Summary: You wake up after the big party, definitely not in your bed, and you don’t remember how you got here. To be honest, you don’t remember anything that happened last night. Why are you not wearing your dress? Why you do you have a big bruise on your arm? Why are you in Jughead Jones’ apartment? What does all this have to do with Reggie? And why you don’t remember anything, even getting drunk?
Words: 1757 (you had waited so long so extra 400 words for you)
Warnings: MISTERY, cursing, sexual content (not even “some”), presumptions of rape, suppositions about a date rape drug, violence, wounds, mention of abuse in the family, not-very-graphic rape. You are reading at your own risk. Sorry.
A/N(IMPORTANT): As you see I’m back! Thank you again for almost 1000 followers! Check out my “I’m back” post. I hope you will like this part. According to your requests, I created the tag list, so if you want to be on it let me know. Now the important part: I have dyslexia so forgive me for my grammar, because I’m trying to write correctly, but it does not always work. So I’m sorry again.
Feel free to send my any requests, asks etc. As always the thoughts are write in italic.
“What are you not telling me, Jughead?” I asked.
He didn’t answer.
I looked at his face. His eyes were concerned on my arm. He was looking at the big bruise. Not thinking what I am doing I touched the purple mark.
“Fuck” I mumbled when the sharp pain run through my arm.
“Did you picked me up from the party?” I asked, and his eyes move to my face.
“No” he took a pause “I found you at near to the Drive-In” Near to?
I stumble again, but the strong hand caught me again.
“Maybe you take off your shoes” I couldn’t locate the source of the words. Maybe they were from my head. I looked at my feet, and I realised that they were bare. Where did my shoes go? I looked around. The Reggie’s house was just a little dot of light in the distance. How long was I walking?
“Everything is fine” the voice, or maybe just a whisper in my head repeat itself. Fine. F i n e. F i n e.
“Yeah, it is” I tried to say, but my mouth didn’t move.
“What? What, the hell, I would be doing in the Drive-In? What the hell were you doing in the Drive-In in the middle of the night!” Suddenly I felt that I started crying. I wanted the answer, but at the same time, I didn’t want to hear it. Near. I wasn’t prepared to hear it.
I stood up, took the clothes out of his hands and run into the bathroom closing the door when I stepped over the doorsill.
My eyelids felt soo heavy. I wanted to sleep. Now. I stopped and tried to sit on the ground but I couldn’t. Something was stopping me.
“Not here” the low voice, somewhere, from someone. Where is it coming from?
Cold air on my face. The stand of my hair in my eyes, when I was shaking my head. The world turned into one colourful stain. It is beautiful. The sudden pain run through my cheek. All of my thoughts stopped. I touched my face. My cheek was burning.
I looked into the face in the mirror. It can’t be me. The (Y/H/C) tangled hair was covered in the dirt and dried blood. The big bruise on my left cheek was reaching my eyebrow and eye. I lightly touched it with my fingertips, but I quickly moved my hand back when I felt the pain. My face was covered with lots of small cuts. My hands were shaking when I pulled Jughead’s T-shirt off over my head. I closed my eyes.
I couldn’t control my breath. I sat on the cold floor. I covered my head with my hands. The tears started to flow. I heard the quiet knocking to the door.
The ground moved. Or maybe I moved. The ground was growing apart from me. Am I flying? Yes, I am definitely flying. Something was touching my right cheek; I touched it with the free hand. Where is my other hand? It was hair? Yes! Beautiful hair. Soft, soft hair. I rubbed the strain around my finger. So beautiful. I smiled. I am not flying someone is carrying me. Is it my dad?I remember that my dad used to carry me like that. I pulled the strain of hair harder. I want it. Some weird noise. Is it a word? I felt that something pulled my hand from that hair. Pain in my arm. I closed my eyes. Soo beautiful.
“(Y/N)” Jughead’s voice was more like a whisper. The doors move slightly but he didn’t press the handle. Probably he leant against the door. I moved closer to the door. But I didn’t answer. I cried and cried. He didn’t say anything else, but his present made me feel safe. Knowing that someone is near was good. Finally, I calmed down.
“Did you dress this… my… wounds” my voice was hoarse.
“Yes,” I was grateful that he didn’t try to talk sooner, that he was just sitting there. Suddenly I realised that I am embarrassed. He saw me like that when even I couldn’t look at myself. He was seeing me all that time when I woke up and when he was talking to me in the morning and he didn’t even twitch. I covered my face with my hands, but I felt the pain.
“I need to know what happened” I felt that the tears appeared on my face again.
“Okay,” his voice made me calmer.
I needed to shower. I probably needed to change the dressing. “I think first I need to take a shower.”
“Okay” he repeated
I closed my eyes. I peeled all the dressings. And I stepped into the shower. The water started to flow. I ignored the pain when water touched my wounds. It felt good. I stand under the shower till water falling on the tiles wasn’t red anymore. Then I turned off the water.
I saw big white towel near to sink. I dried myself and looked in the mirror. The long cut on my back, small cuts under my ribs, a lot of bruises all over my body. I couldn’t look at myself.
I felt that we suddenly turned left. I opened my eyes. The light for the streets was becoming more and more distant. The smell of the woods. I loved that smell. I smiled, when I was little, we use to go to a picnic with my parents. We are going to picnic. My dad is carrying me. Is it my mum. Yeah, she is walking right after us. But why she stopped. “Mum!” I wanted to shout but now words fell from my mouth. I tried again but I only opened and closed my mouth. Where is she now? Archie, Archie were is Archie? Is he carrying me? The branches were cutting my face. The woods, woods were good. The woods meant safe.
I wrapped the towel around my body when two bruises on my collarbone caught my attention. They were medium-sized, almost round. It’s just like… I felt sick. I managed to reach the toilet before I thrown up. I heard that the doors opened and I felt that Jughead hold my hair. He put his hand on my back, but he quickly moved it away when I cringed.
“I will bring you a glass of water.”
I sat on the floor and tried to calm my breath.
Suddenly I felt that I was falling. Or maybe flying. Maybe both or neither. My feets touched the ground. Cold dirt, small branches, leafs. Suddenly soft lips crashed hard on my lips. Big hands on my back. Unknown lips separated from mine. I looked how they moved. They were saying some. I didn’t hear the words. Any words. “Zipper”? “Facking zipper”? That’s it! I smiled. I guessed the words. I felt the cold on my back and then the sound of tearing material or maybe first there was a sound. I wasn’t sure…
After couple minutes Jughead was back with the glass of water and the first-aid kit. I took the glass, and I drank it.
“You should probably dress this wound on your back because the blood already seeped through the towel.”
“Fuck. Jughead I am so sorry! I ruined your towel. I will buy you new one”
“Calm down. It’s okay.”
“But your towel?”
“It wasn’t expensive or something” he smiled. And put the first-aid kit on the sink. And stood up. I bit my lip. Fuck.
“I will probably need help with my back” I felt that I started to blush.
“Okay,” he said, and I saw that he is also blushing. He took the first-aid kit and stood there not knowing what to do. It is equally awkward for the two of us. I stood up, brushed my hair aside and slid down the towel, so the wound was visible.
I hissed when he wiped the wound with disinfectant.
Jughead has really warm hands. He quickly finished. I was really impressed.
“You are good at it,” I said when I looked at the mirror.
“Yeah, sometimes there are things you just need to learn” he mumbled.
He didn’t answer, and he walked out.
Lips on my lips. Lips on my neck. Hands on my back. Lover and lover. Why am I soo cold? Why is the room cold? The sound of breaking branches I have to turn the heater. But where is the heater? I tried to take a step back, but I couldn’t locate my legs. Do I have legs? Now I was sure that I was falling. Sharp pain in my back, even worse in my head. My eyes are soo heavy.
I put on Jughead’s clothes and brushed my hair. Using someone’s brush was weird, but in this situation, I couldn’t care less. I looked into to mirror and signed. I walked out of the bathroom. The smell of grilled cheese directed me to the kitchen.
“I guess I should make pancakes, but my cooking skills aren’t so significant,” Jughead said when I walked into the kitchen.
“Don’t be ridiculous, sandwiches with grilled cheese are perfect,” I said and smiled
“Do you want coffee or orange juice?”
“Juice is fine.”
“It’s in the fridge. Glasses are here,” he said and pointed the cabinet behind Jughead.
The kitchen was very very small. I took one glass
“Do you want juice too?”
“Why would I say glasses in plural if I wouldn’t?”
I rolled my eyes. I took another glass and opened the fridge. It was almost empty. What am I talking about it was completely empty! The only thing inside was the carton of orange juice and bottle of ketchup. I looked at Jughead who was putting the sandwiches on the plates. I realised that I didn’t know anything about this guy. This morning we had the first conversation. Well, probably yesterday was our first. I felt that shiver run through my body. I didn’t want to think about it when we were eating. But how is it possible that I felt so comfortable next to the stranger.
How did I end in his bed? Did I sleep with him? What happened yesterday? “Are my guesses real?” I took the carton and closed the fridge.
Summary: Final part of the scenario where your first impression of your upstairs neighbor involves getting woken up at two in the morning to the sound of her and her friends singing along to trashy pop music. You thought it would get better, but it all just goes downhill from there.
Summary: You and your best friend Taehyung have recently got into the same
university in the capital of Seoul. Hoping that this was your year to finally
admit your romantic feelings towards your said best friend, uni seems an
exciting prospect. But of course, the future never really goes according to
A/N: Whenever there’s
a word in italics and in bold, it means you’re speaking in English :)
Tapping your foot, you checked your phone for what seemed to
be the hundredth time. What’s taking you
so long, Tae?
Just as this thought popped into your head, a familiar honey
smell filled your nostrils. Taehyung sat down sheepishly opposite you, giving
you an apologetic grin.
You cocked an eyebrow. “So you text me asking if we can meet up at this café which you found, and you arrive 20 minutes late?”
“Better late than never,” said Taehyung, cheekily looking
out the window with a smirk plastered over his face. He’s an idiot. “So,” he continued, turning his attention back to
you and letting his eyes trail over your choice of outfit, “I see that you’ve
already adopted the student life.”
“Oh, buzz off,” you replied, not all that seriously. “I only
wore sweatpants because I thought I was going to be late. Turns out I needn’t
have rushed,” you added, just to make Taehyung that extra bit guilty. You weren’t
really that mad at him; in fact, you could rarely be mad at Taehyung. He always
found a way to make you smile again, despite getting on your nerves almost
“Don’t get me wrong,
I’m loving your look… which reminds me!”
With his eyes lighting up, Taehyung reached into his bag and
pulled out a small white box with a picture of a man with orange hair on the
Please don’t let it be
what I think it is.
“Could you help me dye my hair orange?”
You stayed silent, trying to ignore the puppy dog eyes that
Taehyung was now giving you. However, Taehyung was hard to ignore.
“Please, please, please,”
he begged, reaching across the café table to grab your hand tightly. “I’ll love
you forever if you do!”
You looked down to where your hands were now entwined, his
warmth sending warm rushes of heat up into your arm. You could feel your heart
melting and yourself giving into his wishes, but you kept your gaze firmly on
your hands. The control Taehyung had over you was terrifying; was that all it
took? A simple touch to win you over so easily?
Taehyung’s voice grew soft and gentle. “Y/N? It’s okay if
you don’t want to, I could probably manage it myself…”
You finally looked up and met his gaze, and to no surprise,
a mischievous glint twinkled in his eyes, despite wearing a solemn face.
Shaking your head out of your stupor, you mumbled, “Yes, it’s
fine, Tae. I’ll help you.”
Taehyung’s smile returned, lighting up his features. “Your
place or mine?”
“Yours,” you replied quickly, your mind still half-focused
on the fact that Taehyung hadn’t let go of your hand. “My housemates are… funny.”
A girl, supposedly one
of your new housemates, opened the door to your share house. Her expression
matched her clothing style: uninterested and dull.
“Come in,” she said in
a bored tone. “I take it you’re Y/N. Back of the room, door on the left. No
noise after 10pm, switch off electronics when you’re not using them, and no
Without another word,
the girl turned on her heel and disappeared into the house.
Feeling quite shocked
at your abrupt meeting, you stepped inside and made your way to your room,
making sure to put on your house slippers before going anywhere near the clean
Dumping your stuff
down, you flopped onto your bed and stared up at the ceiling, hoping that your
other two housemates were more welcoming. The silence of the house was
unnerving, and it made you wish you were living with Taehyung instead of random
strangers. Neither set of parents agreed to you two living together, and no
landlord or landlady allowed mixed gender residents anyway.
Sighing, you picked up
your phone to see unread messages from Taehyung.
so far so good – housemates seem nice, my room doesn’t smell like rotting food
and I can see a food shop from my window
I’m already invited to a party!!! do you want to come?
You sighed, throwing
your phone down next to you. Taehyung was already going to a party when you
hadn’t even spoken one word to the people you were living with. Listening to
the occasional car go by on the road outside, you felt the familiar stone grow
in your chest, the same one you got when Taehyung used to talk about his high
school crush. Was it loneliness or jealously? You couldn’t tell anymore.
Picking up your phone,
you wrote out a text to Taehyung.
count me in.
“Hold still, Tae!”
“You’re getting water in my eye!”
“I wouldn’t be if you had stayed still. Also, close your
eyes you moron.”
“What did you just call me?”
“If you’re going to insult me, say it in a language I
Rolling your eyes, you continued raking your fingers through
Taehyung’s hair, using the shower head to wash out the remains of the shop-bought
hair dye. You had come over to Taehyung’s new house and immediately ruined
their towels by leaving bright orange streaks on at least three.
“All done,” you announced, ripping off your gloves and
turning off the water.
“Finally,” grumbled Taehyung, slowly standing up and rubbing
his back after being hunched over the bath tub.
Grabbing a towel, he began to work on drying his hair while
you made your way to his bedroom. It was a decent size for a student, and
although Taehyung had only moved in a few days ago, already the room felt like
his. You sat down on his unmade bed, letting yourself be comforted by the sight
of his familiar possessions. After a couple of gruelling days trying to talk to
your new housemates, it was nice to be surrounded by a piece of home again.
The girl you met on your first day, Yeona, was no different
the next day. You had come out your room to go on a large shopping trip to find
Yeona sitting at the table in the kitchen area, her hair loosely tied back and
wearing a baggy shirt.
“Good morning,” you had said shyly.
Yeona turned around to see who had spoken, and after
catching a glimpse of you standing behind her, she replied with a ‘morning’
before turning back to sip her coffee and continue her book.
One of your housemates hadn’t turned up yet for this term,
and the other girl, Jiwon, stayed in her room most of the time, too busy with
her work. So no new friends there then.
Taehyung appeared in the doorway of his bedroom, his hair
looking wild but almost dry. And very orange.
“Yah, what do you think?”
You stared at the mop of orange, a smile tugging at your
lips. It should’ve looked bad, and on anyone else, it would have. But honestly,
it suited Taehyung, matching his bright personality and brilliant grin down to
“You look great, Tae,” you said truthfully, biting your lip
as he ruffled his hair into place.
“Do I look handsome now?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at
“Sorry Taehyung. Still a long way off that title.”
At that precise moment, you heard loud voices enter the
house, saving you from Taehyung’s ruthless tongue.
“My housemates are back,” he said happily. “Come on Y/N,
come meet them!”
Taehyung’s housemates couldn’t have been more different from
yours. There was Namjoon, a clever boy who welcomed you as if you were an old
friend; Jungkook, a younger, more shy boy with an innocent face but a wicked
sense of humour; and Jin, the oldest, who honestly looked like a model but had
the lamest jokes.
“If you ever need anything, Y/N, feel free to come round at any
time,” Namjoon said kindly, as Jungkook put an arm around your neck.
“Yeah, we prefer you over Taehyung any day.”
“You’re a whole lot prettier, too,” added Jin.
“Okay Y/N,” interrupted Taehyung, ignoring the laughter from
the other boys, “why don’t we explore the campus? We could sign up to a few
clubs if you want?”
Knowing Taehyung was getting embarrassed, you accepted the
arm he extended to you and together you headed towards the campus grounds.
It was a nice sunny day, with the gentle breeze playing with
your hair as you walked. Breathing in the aromas of the city around you, you
felt the most comforted you’d been since you arrived in Seoul. You turned to
look at Taehyung, watching the sunlight sharpen his jawline and making his
orange hair shine.
You knew that moving to the same university and doing the
same course as Taehyung wasn’t going to help your feelings towards him. But you
felt as if you had fallen into a well: the Taehyung Well. No matter how many
times you tried to climb out and pretend that you didn’t like your best friend
in that way, the more tired you grew of hiding it. Ever since you gave in to
your emotions, just the thought of Taehyung was enough to make your heart lift.
You were surrounded by
revision notes: flashcards, mind maps, you name it. And there, lying right in
the middle of it all, was Kim Taehyung, fast asleep with his mouth hanging open.
True, it was 4am, but
the exam was drawing ever closer and you needed to do this last-minute
cramming. You remained hunched over your notes, rubbing your temples to try and
help the information sink in. When Taehyung let out a particularly loud snore, you
jumped in fright and kicked out your foot, which connected with Taehyung’s
“Ah!” he hissed, his
eyes wincing as he slowly sat up, multiple sheets of paper stuck to his body. “What
time is it?”
Taehyung’s eyes flew
open. “What? Y/N why are you still working? You need to sleep!”
“I know, Tae. But I
can’t afford to do badly in this exam!”
Taehyung continued to
stare bleary eyed at you for a few more moments, but before you knew what was
happening, he had stood up and had grabbed you around the legs and around your
Squealing a little,
Taehyung lifted you up bridal style, holding you against his chest whilst carrying
you to your room.
“Kim Taehyung, let me
go!” you ordered, but your voice was far from demanding after realising how
close you were to his head.
“I’ve got to look
after my Y/N, haven’t I? I am older
Your heart fluttered. My
Y/N? You stared at his cheek, trying to
even out your breathing despite feeling Taehyung’s steady heartbeat against
When he reached your
room, he gently placed you on your bed and tucked you underneath the duvet. For
added effect, he gave you a quick kiss on your forehead before firmly saying
goodnight and closing the door.
As you lay there in
the dark, still feeling the ghost of his lips against your hairline, your
cheeks began burn like fire, making you glad for the lack of light. Your head
was a jumbled mess of feelings and emotions. What was he playing at?
Rolling over, you let
out a large sigh, trying to ignore the stone that had begun to settle on your
chest after Taehyung left, but it was useless. It was like he was engrained in
your mind: the image of him laughing, the image of him doing his goofy walk
which always made you smile, the image of him concentrating in lessons with his
eyebrows furrowed, the image of him watching his favourite movie with his eyes
wide open in wonder.
You lifted your hand to
rub your eyes, but instead it drifted towards the spot where Taehyung kissed
you. You were almost scared to touch it, as if it would fade as soon as you did
What the hell is happening? He’s my best friend, why am I obsessing
But you knew why. You
wanted him to do it again, and not in a best friend kind of way.
Falling asleep that
night, you let yourself dream of Taehyung, and it was the best sleep you had
had in a while. Because you were falling for your best friend, and you didn’t
mind it one bit.
Sitting in one of the many parks making up the university
campus, underneath a large tree that let the sunlight filter through, you sighed
in contentment as you rested your head against the trunk. Taehyung lay on the
ground and rested his head on your lap, while you absentmindedly stroked his
orange fringe off his forehead.
Lots of students milled about, making the most of the good
weather. You could see Park Jimin playing football with his friends not too far
off, making you feel like you were back in high school again. You were
surprised that he managed to get into this university, seeing as he bunked
class most of the time, but Taehyung explained that he never needed to try at
exams to do well.
“I see Jimin’s dyed his hair silver,” you commented,
watching him make a shot at a goal.
“Silver is for old people. I’m keeping it fresh,” said
Taehyung, keeping his eyes shut. “Perhaps we should dye your hair too.”
“No thanks,” you replied, looking down at Taehyung’s
peaceful expression. “I’ll look so different with dyed hair. I won’t look like
“Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”
You retracted your hand from his hair and instead dug your
fingers into his sides. Taehyung rolled away, giggling as you tickled him but begging
you to stop. As it turned into a tickle fight, you couldn’t help laughing out
of pure happiness. So long as you had Taehyung, nothing could go too badly
“Alright! I give in,” Taehyung chuckled, flopping against
the tree in defeat. “I swear, you could give Jungkook a run for his money. So
Taehyung trailed off as he stared towards one of the
buildings, his focus completely shifted.
“Tae? What’s the matter?” you asked, wondering would could
have caught his attention so quickly.
Taehyung’s mouth hung ajar as he lifted his finger. “Look!”
he gasped excitedly. “It’s Yeji!”
Imagine Darry comforting his little sister after she gets bullied at school for her red hair.
You wiped away your tears as you opened up the bottle of peroxide… you were just so damn tired of all the comments your so called “friends” were calling you- you were done, you just wanted it to be gone.
“Queenie, honey, can I talk to you for a moment, please?” Darry called from behind the door. “Sodapop told me that you came home from school upset.”
“Just go away, Dar.” You sighed as you began to towel dry your soaking wet hair.
“Queenie, this is important, if you don’t open this door I’m coming in.”
You went to hide the peroxide, only to knock it over in the process, causing it to spill all over the bathroom tiles.
“Shit” You cursed, picking up a dirty towel to mop it up… and then the door opened.
“What’re you doing?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow as he stared you down. “Is that peroxide?”
“Yeah, I’m dying my hair.”
“Why?” He squatted down beside you, taking the ruined towel off of you. “Your hair is beautiful, why would you want to dye it?”
“Because.” You wiped away your tears, refusing to look him in the eye. “My friends- they tease me… they call me carrots and say that I haven’t got a soul- they call me a devil, so maybe if I dye it they’ll stop.”
“Oh sweetheart.” Darry said softly, bundling you up in his arms. “Don’t cry, baby. They’re not worth it, and besides that, if they were your true friends they wouldn’t be teasing you over something as trivial as your hair colour. “
“Am I ugly?” Your voice shook as you looked into your big brother’s eyes desperately. “Or evil? Do I look-”
“Beautiful, that’s what you are.” He kissed your forehead gently, giving you a kind smile. “You are beautiful, you’re not evil. You’re my angel, and if those idiots at your school cannot see how beautiful you are inside and out, then they’re not worth hanging out with. Find new friends, ones that’ll appreciate who you are for you.”
“Do you really want to dye your hair, Queenie?”
“No… I just want them to stop it.”
“Then don’t dye it, if you’re going to dye your hair colour, do it because it’s what you want to do. Do it because it makes you happy, not because people at school are bullying you. Defend yourself, don’t change yourself, you hear?”
“Thank’s Darry.” You wrapped your arms around your big brother, thankful that he was here.
Could you do one where the two of you are trying to get the kids ready for Halloween?? With cal?
You were covered in green face paint.
Your daughter, aged seven, had informed you she wanted
to be witch for Halloween. At first you’d been thrilled with the idea. A hat, a
broomstick and a stick on nose and she was set. And then Frankie told you she
didn’t want to be any old witch, but Elphaba. Green paint and all.
Calum didn’t look much better.
His own hands were stained red from where he’d been
helping your son, Matthew, apply fake blood to his Dracula costume. At age
five, he seemed to be following in his older sister’s love for the dramatics.
You blamed Calum, he blamed you.
Either way, Halloween was not the easy day you’d hoped
“Let’s tell people we’re a paint factory explosion.”
Your husband mutters, as he tried to wash his hands for the fifth time. “Throw
some blues and yellows in there and we’re set.”
“And tomorrow when our skin is still multiple colours?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t plan on
leaving the house until I’m rid of this crap.”
“I thought so.”
He grins at you through the mirror, and you shake your
head at his words. Laughing, Calum wipes his hands on his shirt, not wanting to
ruin the towel, before crossing the room and pulling you into his chest.
“So next year, when my parents offer to have the kids
“We say yes and then run to the Bahamas.” You finish,
Calum smirking before dropping a kiss to your lips. “Never again do I agree to
turn your daughter into her favourite musical character.”
“Oh, so now she’s my
“Mummy! When do we get to go?” Frankie calls, forcing
you to break apart. Calum laces his fingers with yours as you go to where your
children were dancing around the living room.
“When your uncles and cousins all get here.” Calum
answers, referring to his bandmates. “Which will be soon, so put your shoes on.”
The doorbell rings as Calum finishes, and your children
both dart to the door. Their shouts inform you of Luke’s arrival, and soon
there are four children running around instead of two.
“Spoke to Mike and Ash, both families are on their way.”
Luke greets you, eyes on his phone as he follows his wife and children into the
room. When he looks up however, a smirk takes over his features. “What are you
two supposed to be?”
“Pain factory explosion.” You tell him, causing Calum
to snort. “Isn’t it obvious?”
He had mainly done it on impulse. After waking up in the middle of the night, the idea struck Jeremy and he just had to do it. No one was stopping him right? So he called up his favorite stylist and asked for an order of bleach, hair dye, and hair care products. No, he didn’t care that it was three in the morning, he needed this stuff ordered now.
He went in the next morning and picked up everything he needed. He went to his apartment and set to work. He’d dyed his own hair several times in the past, but nothing like this. He’d only done part of it, but now, as he was applying the bleach to his hair, there was no going back from what he was doing.
He stayed away from the crew that day. Simply caring for his newly dyed hair and ruining his towels even further. His cats stared at him oddly and he had to shoo them out of the bathroom so they didn’t inhale the fumes of the chemicals or knock over any of the bottles.
The next day, he got into his car excitedly. He had to head over to the penthouse for some final heist preparations. He couldn’t stop checking the mirror to see his hair and the colors he had picked. He was sure Gavin would faint on the spot upon seeing his new coloring. He didn’t care though. This was to make him happy not them.
When he arrived, there was no sight of anyone. They were probably huddled up in the planning room already so he walked over to the door. He hesitated for a moment, taking a breath and calming his nerves before opening the door. When everyone turned to look at him, everyone went dead silent.
Michael was the first to make noise, bursting into laughter and going, “Holy shit. I can’t believe it took him this long to do it!” Gavin looked absolutely shocked, saying, “Jeremy. What did you do, Jeremy?” Ryan seemed impressed, giving a small smile and a thumbs up his way. Jack was giggling in her seat, and Geoff didn’t seem too impressed.
“Sit your ass down, Rimmy Tim. We’ve got heist plans to do,” Geoff said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose and muttering “Fucking Christ I can’t believe this kid.”
Jeremy sat in his seat, beaming proudly about his new two tone hair. The sides were dyed a bright purple, the top an even brighter orange. He was sure the others, after the meeting, were going to ask him about why he did it, why right before a heist, and other things. Despite it being an impulse decision, he was happy with it and was going to keep his hair like this for as long as he could.
Summary: Spider Man helps you out after a date gone horrible. This is filling the request from @spiderpparker from the prompts list: “I’m sorry you didn’t know me before this.” Thank you so much for the request, love!!
Warnings: like a cuss word or two. peter being adorkable.
Anonymous Request: “Hey! I was wondering if you could do a fluffy Sam oneshot because I’m having a really rough week and it would really make up for some of it.”
Warnings: Fluff, Cheesiness, Nudity, Implied Sex (Is this a warning? idk), Cursing
Word Count: 2544
A/N: Not too thrilled by this because I feel I may have channelled a little too much Dean since this is my first time writing Sam in a while. I hope it still cheers you up, Anon! Also, I’m not too sure about the physics or anything about ectoplasm so I hope this isn’t too far-fetched lol for Supernatural at least.
The reader is having a bad week of unlucky solo hunts and her boyfriend, Sam Winchester, tries to cheer her up.
You walked into the bunker completely drenched and feeling as if a stone was tied to your back as exhaustion weighed down on you. You walked down the stairs slowly and cautiously, trying not to slip from the substance dripping off your clothes and skin. You dropped your bag at the bottom of the stairs and sludged your way to the library, right where you knew he’d be.
Just as you expected, Sam Winchester was sitting at the table reading while his brother sat across from him, basically inhaling the burger he’d just made.
You cleared your throat and both the boys’ heads shot up to look at you.
“You’re back! How was the-” Sam stopped mid-sentence as he took in the site of you. You were covered from head-to-toe in gooey black ectoplasm. Dean nearly dropped his burger as he burst into laughter and Sam’s hand quickly shot up to cover his own mouth.
“Did you remember to wipe your feet before you came in?” Dean asked, wiping a tear from his eye. You shot him a glare.
“Laugh it up, Winchester. I was driving your car,” You said as you threw the Impala keys at the eldest brother. Dean’s face immediately fell.
“Fuck…” He groaned as he grabbed the keys and stomped out of the library to check out the state of his leather seats. Sam chuckled and shook his head at you. You just stared at him with an exhausted expression. He finally started to look sympathetic at your weakened state and closed his book as he got up to walk over to you.
Once he got closer to your messy self, you saw his sympathetic look start to turn humorous once more.
“It’s not funny,” You stated sternly. He swallowed his laughter and nodded at you as seriously as he could.
Omg that video is so perfect and cute and emotional and kinda weird but still good weird and sb needs to write drabble about everlark!djsnake video and I don't know if I can but I would ask you for it so very much because you're such a great writer💔
Hey anon! I don’t know what this ended up being, but it’s where my brain took me. Thank you for sending me this ask and for being so sweet. I really appreciate it. I hope I did right by you and Amazing Marv!Peeta. <3
A/N: Modern AU Everlark, Rated E for explicit language, sexual situations, and references to violence. Contains quotes from The Hunger Games books and movies. Inspired by the video for Middle by DJ Snake. Unbetaed. With thanks to @lifeloveanddance for being the best cheerleader a girl could ask for.
Shards of glass were embedded in his palm, tiny fragments so small he couldn’t see them unless he held his hand up to the light to watch them sparkle. They stung sharply, a hundred bloodless gashes, but they didn’t sting as badly as his injured pride. That hurt so much worse, but unlike the gash on his leg, exposed by the tear in his cargo pants, or the scrape below his blackened eye, at least he could hide that away behind a mask.