she was in space she was outside and he kept on asking her: what are you doing here

settle down | (m)

• pairing: min yoongi x reader, roommate! yoongi
• genre/warnings: smut, angst, fluff, slow buuurrrn, enemies to lovers
• words: 14,930
→summary: An unfortunate event finds you living with the man you practically despise over the summer. However, maybe through a series of fortunate events, you find yourself falling for him…
• note. this is a remastered version of the originally story I wrote called ‘and july’ (found here) that I wrote for suho back when I started this blog, albeit slightly (very?) different.

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Be My Boyfriend

[ao3]

“Dean, be my boyfriend!” Castiel hissed.

Dean’s attention was pulled away from Charlie (who snorted into her drink) when Castiel grabbed his arm.

“Uh,” Dean said, feeling like he was missing out on some vital information. Castiel’s wide eyes were a little too bright and his cheeks were flushed with pink, indicating that he was probably a little bit drunk, though that still didn’t help clear up the situation.

“Come here!” Castiel dragged Dean by the arm across the crowded room until they stood in front of a short brunette who Dean thought was named Meg. Castiel wrapped his arm around Dean’s waist and squeezed him to his side.

“I told you!” he told Meg triumphantly. “I have a boyfriend!”

Meg looked Dean up and down incredulously. “You’re dating Dean Winchester?”

Starting to catch on, Dean put a possessive arm around Castiel’s shoulders. “Yeah, he is. Got a problem with that?”

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anonymous asked:

What do you think about an “i picked up your bag at the airport but i can’t find your number so i’m about to embark on the largest scavenger hunt of all time by using your strange belongings to track you down” au with charmer or nurseydex or zimbits or something??

Well, I don’t know if you expected three mini fics, and I didn’t fully follow the prompt, but here we are.

1. Charmer

Look, Chris knew it was dumb. He knew that everyone on earth had a plain black suitcase, he knew he should have double-checked the luggage tag, he knew it was important to be sure abut these things. But knowing what he should have done couldn’t help him when he finally got his suitcase home and opened it up to find mostly yoga pants and sundresses. 

Fuck.

He zipped the bag back up and flipped open the luggage tag. It was cute, pink with some metallic lettering saying “I’m outta here!” in a handwritten font. Chris blamed jetlag and the redeye flight for making him miss the fact that it wasn’t his Sharks tag. He blamed the bag’s owner for not filling out any of the information on the tag.

Dammit.

Well, sorry random girl, he thought. He opened the suitcase up again to try to see if he could find anything that would give him a clue as to who the suitcase owner was. He moved a makeup bag aside, and hit gold immediately. Well, Samwell red. A Women’s Volleyball tshirt– mystery suitcase girl had to be on the volleyball team.

“Hey Ransom!” he yelled. “You’re facebook friends with all the volleyball team right?”

“He’s friends with everyone on campus!” Holster yelled back.

“Ask their captain if anyone flew in from the Bay Area and lost their luggage!”

_X_

“Is Justin here? My captain said he’s got my suitcase.” Chris overheard her at the door. He grabbed the bag and started hauling it downstairs. As he set it down at the bottom and caught sight of the girl in the doorway, he froze. She was pretty. Like, really pretty. 

“Um, hi,” he said.

“So you’re Justin? Oh my god, I’m so glad it wasn’t some total rando who got my bag.” 

“I’m actually Chris, Justin was just the one who was friends with your captain. Um, I’m sorry, but I kind of had to look through your stuff? Your luggage tag wasn’t filled out.” The girl laughed.

“Yours wasn’t either! Me and my teammates were like one minute away from googling the record holder for most San Jose Sharks merch, but it totally makes sense that you’re on the hockey team.” 

“Since we both forgot to write our numbers down, maybe we should do that now?” Chris suggested. The girl grinned, grabbed his phone out of his hand, and opened up a new contact. She punched in a number, and when she handed it back he saw a text of several random emojis addressed to the new contact of “Caitlin Farmer” with a girl farmer emoji and a volleyball emoji.

“Text me sometime, and maybe we can get dinner?” she said, and she was gone with her suitcase. 

Chris collapsed on the couch, a dreamy look in his eyes.

“Chowder? You get your suitcase back?” Bitty called out from the kitchen.

“Yeah! and I think I’m in love now!”

2. Nurseydex

“Cheryl, I’m telling you, I had a ton of inspiration on the plane and I wrote some great stuff for act three. No. No, it wasn’t just me thinking it’s great because I popped some melatonin and got really sleepy. It’s like, legit. Yeah, I’ll send it over as soon as I get home and–”

Derek slammed into something. If he’d been holding his phone in his hand (bluetooth is a blessing when you drop stuff easily) it would have launched across the airport. As it was, his post-flight latte was soaking through the nice white shirt of the handsome stranger in front of him.

“Shit,” the stranger said, looking down to survey the damage.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have trusted myself to make a phone call and not be clumsy after such a long flight,” Derek said. He set his briefcase down and pulled a wad of napkins out of the outside pocket. The guy took a deep breath, going from murderous to calm in a few seconds. 

“I wasn’t looking where I was going either, it’s not your fault,” the guy said, setting down his own briefcase and accepting the napkins. He blotted at his shirt.

“Let me pay for the dry cleaning. Or a replacement,” Derek offered. The man shook his head.

“It’s fine, it probably needed to go to the cleaners anyways.” He checked his watch. “If I run, I can probably get a new one before my meeting.” He wadded the napkins into one big ball, picked up his briefcase, and walked towards the exit with a terse nod. Derek, feeling terrible about the whole thing, picked up his own briefcase and walked to baggage claim.

By the time he was reunited with his home office, a cozy bookshelf-lined room in his brownstone, he had almost forgotten about the coffee incident. He was focused on sending the manuscript to Cheryl. Unfortunately, that was going to be difficult, considering he pulled a PC laptop out of the bag instead of his Mac.

Derek stared at the computer for a full minute. He almost couldn’t believe that this was happening to him. Hesitantly, he opened the laptop. On one side of the keyboard there was a weird thing that a few seconds of phone googling told him was a fingerprint scanner. Shit. He hit the space bar experimentally. Something flashed on the screen, and then was replaced with just a plain black screen with red text: ACCESS DENIED

Derek swore. He started to look through the rest of what was in the briefcase, but was disappointed to find it empty except for the laptop’s charger, three packs of gum, and receipts from a lobster shack in Maine. Shit. Nothing in here would tell him anything about the redhead he’d launched a latte at. 

He closed the laptop dejectedly, ignored his editor’s text messages, and went into the kitchen to make himself lunch and feel sorry for himself. This was the universe punishing him for covering a cute guy with coffee. If he had just kept his focus and waited to call his editor later, he could have sent the draft along and saved it and not be desperately trying to remember his inspiration.

Just as the self-pity spiral was really taking off, the doorbell rang. Derek sighed, put down his tea, and walked to the door. When he opened it, it wasn’t Girl Scouts or Jehovah’s Witnesses, but the guy from the airport.

“Cancel whatever you’re doing today, I need to teach you the most basic principles of digital security,” the guy said, pushing past Derek into the dining room. He shoved a stack of papers onto a chair and pulled Derek’s laptop out.

“I’m Will, by the way, I make software that’s hopefully a step ahead of viruses.”

“Is the draft still there?”

“The draft of what?” The guy looked confused.

“My third act breakthrough. I’m a novelist, I need to get it to my editor and I couldn’t remember if I saved it,” Derek explained.

“You know you can set up an auto-save every five minutes or so, right?” Will asked.

“This might be surprising to you, but I’ve never had a cute guy storm into my house and yell at me about computers before.” Will looked up from Derek’s computer, blushing.

“I haven’t had a cute guy dump a gallon of coffee all over me and steal my laptop before, either, but here we are.”

“Maybe you can yell about computers over lunch with me?”

3. Zimbits

Button downs. Tank tops. Slacks. Shorts. Three rolling pins. A pie tin. A half-emptied multipack of sharpies.

No lucky puck. No clothes in his size. No jerseys.

Jack sighed. It would just be too much to ask for anything to go well today. He picked up his phone to call someone with the Falconers, in the hope that they could talk to the airline and sort all this out. At the same time, his phone lit up with Tater’s face.

“Zimmboni! Look on twitter. Small internet baker has your suitcase!” Tater hung up before he could reply, so Jack just opened twitter instead. 

omgcheckplease: A bunch of pucks, some dirty jerseys, and a history textbook. Either I’m back in college or this isn’t my suitcase.

omgcheckplease: .@falcsofficial please tell your #1 player to DM me and come get his shit

omgcheckplease: and @falcsofficial tell him to give me my shit back. my hockey days are in the past, I need rolling pins, not a mouthguard

Jack smiled and laughed in the way a person laughs when they’re alone, just blowing more air than normal out of his nose. He looked through the twitter for a minute– the guy, Eric Bittle, was a Providence-based chef, whose latest tweets were mostly greetings to the various cities he’d been visiting on tour. Jack clicked the media tab on the account, and looked through the pictures. Bittle was cute. He wrote a reply.

zimmboni: .@omgcheckplease how do I send u a DM

omgcheckplease: .@zimmboni you don’t deserve to be verified, oh my god #verifybittle2k17

A few seconds later another notification popped up, and he tapped it to be brought to a DM window.

omgcheckplease: hey! sorry about the mixup. I can only imagine how confused you were to find all my book tour stuff.

zimmboni: Probably as confused as you were finding hockey stuff?

omgcheckplease: I wasn’t joking in my tweets, I did play hockey before I got into the whole cookbook/food show thing

zimmboni: Exactly, I did a book tour last year in the off-season :-)

omgcheckplease: oh my gosh, isn’t it the best and the worst?

zimmboni: I know. It’s great to meet people and talk about your work, but it’s exhausting.

omgcheckplease: that’s why I’m so excited to be back in Providence! at least until the next cookbook.

zimmboni: Well we should probably meet up to trade suitcases. Want to meet somewhere for dinner?

omgcheckplease: don’t trust me to learn where your house is?

zimmboni: I mean, if dinner goes well enough…

omgcheckplease: OH. okay, then, Mr. Zimmermann, it’s a date.

Jack smiled to himself, and got ready for his date.

I Don’t Mean It (pt 8)

You were broken. Completely broken. The man you thought was one of your best friends despised you. The man you thought–no you knew– you loved had no trust in you. 

If he didn’t believe you, there was no way the other boys would either you thought to yourself through the tears. But no other thoughts came to you. You felt empty, useless, and broken. You walked and turned off all the lights and sat on the floor in the darkness, letting the room fill with the sound of your sobs.


Two days went by none of the boys had tried to get in contact with you. Tae probably told them. They probably hate me too. I’ve lost them all. But little did you know, they were simply waiting for you to reach out to them and talk first. They wanted to give you your space, and Taehyung still hadn’t told them the truth. I have to leave this place. There’s no point staying here anymore. 

It was true, you really didn’t have any reason to stay back. A little after the boys moved in, you had found a new job, but the commute was kind of far. But somehow they had managed to convince you to stay. Because they were worth it.

You immediately pulled out all your suitcases and boxes and started packing. You even called your landlord asking about the process of moving out. If you were to get past this, you had to move on. Move on from the boys, and move away quite literally.


Taehyung still couldn’t get the image of you crying out of his head, even after two days. He never liked seeing you upset before, and knowing that you were crying because of him tugged at his heartstrings, but he kept telling himself that you deserved it.

He moped around the dorm when there wasn’t a schedule and tried to give everyone his best smile when the cameras were around. He still hadn’t decided how to tell the other boys and he knew that they were giving him the space he needed. 

Today, he had to go to the recording studio to start recording for a new album. He honestly didn’t know if he had it in him to record with how has been feeling recently, but he didn’t have much of a choice. 

Once he made it to BigHit, the boys all gathered in the recording studio and sat there in an awkward silence. Taehyung didn’t mind though as his mind was wandering back to you. He didn’t even realize that Namjoon wasn’t in the room.

“Aish how much longer do we have to wait” asked Yoongi. “I want to start soon!” he said in frustration. Only then did Tae look around and notice Namjoon missing. 

“Where is hyung?” asks Jungkook.

“He said he had something to ask manager hyung.” said Jimin. “But it’s been a while, though.”

“I’ll go get him” Taehyung offers. He leaves the room in search for Namjoon and the manager. He looks for them door by door and in their usual spots, but he was having a hard time finding them. 

Taehyung was starting to get frustrated when he wasn’t able to find them as quickly as he was expecting. Eventually, though, he struck gold when he could hear Namjoon’s voice coming from one of the rooms down a random hallway.

“Hyung, Taehyung’s been acting kind of weird lately and I think we should give him some time off to sort things out.” Namjoon said. Taehyung stood outside the door that was slightly ajar. He didn’t know what made him want to stop and listen in on their conversation, but he did,

“What why? I noticed he was a little strange, but he seemed fine on TV. Does he really need time off?” the manager asked.

“He has some…personal stuff going on.” Namjoon said.

“Whats so personal that I don’t even know about it?” asked the manager.

“Well… he’s in the middle of a rough time with Y/N…our neighbor. You’ve seen her over at our place before” Namjoon offered.

Taehyung could feel his heart tighten at the mention of your name. 

“Oh her. Is she honestly still hanging around you guys?” asked the manager. Taehyung furrowed his eyes in confusion.

“What are you talking about? Why wouldn’t she?” asked Namjoon.

“Aish this bitch. Why do you guys always have her around? What if the press got a hold of that huh? Do you not realize the risks?” asked the manager slightly more loudly. Taehyung’s face turned red once he heard his manager calling you a bitch, but he knew that he was the one who had stopped the article from being published so he just continued to listen silently on the conversation.

“Hyung she’s just a friend. I don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal out of it.” Namjoon stated.

“Big deal? I saw the way Taehyung looked at her ok. And the way she looked at him. It was obvious that if I didn’t do anything, they would have started dating. He would have had to go behind the company’s back. The press would have found out. It would have been just one giant mess Joon. You as the leader should know that and stopped it.” The manager said. 

Taehyung was even more confused. What did he mean when he said “if I didn’t do anything” ?

“Hyung..what have you done” asked Namjoon, catching on.

“Look, don’t tell Taehyung this because I don’t want him running back to that stupid girl. And you should know that it’s best if she stays out of his life. But anyways, I approached Tae with a fake article before all the awards show started a few months ago. I told him that that girl had given a reporter all this private and personal information about Taehyung and that she had received a payment for it. Clearly, it worked if they’re fighting over it. It’s just a matter of time now” the manager said cooly.

Taehyung’s heart sank. What have I done?

“Hyung what the hell. She’s been nothing but a kind friend to us. How could you do that to T-” Namjoon started when the door flung open. Both the manager and Namjoon turned to the door, wide-eyed from the shock.

“T-Taehyung. How long have you been there?” asked the manager, shocked.

“Hyung..w-why would you d-do that? I trusted y-you. I trusted the wrong person! Do you know what I’ve just done because of you?” Taehyung yelled with tears in his eyes.

“T-taehyung-ah, it was for your best. Please try to see where I’m coming from” the manager said. 

“I can’t believe you hyung.” Tae said as he walked away.

What have I done? What I have done to Y/N?


A/N.…AND that concludes part 8~ Do y’all want a part 9? What do you think is going to happen? Inbox or dm me what you think! Also, the italics are meant to be their thoughts. 

Previous Parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Blunt // Cole Sprouse

Can your write one like the only you just did were the reader is younger but this time she is dating Cole and it’s a secret for a while because he is older and everyone already wants him to be with Lili

Warnings: A freaking intense and scary Uno game, Dick related joke(s)?

Word Count: 1281

Characters: Cole Sprouse, KJ Apa, Trevor Stines, Casey Cott, Madelaine Petsch, Lili Reinhart, Camila Mendes, Ross Butler

A/N: I have used the name ‘Kairi’ (if you can guess where this is from, I will give you so much love) as the character you’re playing. It just makes a little more sense to me instead of having to write ‘y/n’ as your character. Because you are you, and your character is Kairi. xoxo

—- —-

“Uno!” You shouted, grinning as you placed down the draw four card you had been waiting to unleash on Cole, a grin across your lips. “Come on, boy. Pick the cards up!” You laughed, looking down at the last card you had left. “Oh, and I change the colour to… blue!”

Cole picked up his four cards, but you were too busy celebrating in your head to notice the smirk on his lips. “Draw four,” Cole muttered slyly, placing down the card, looking at you with a sinister look.

Your mouth dropped open and your eyes widened. “Are you serious!?” You exclaimed, slamming down the card and huffing, crossing your arms. You were a sore loser, to say the least. “So you’re allowed to put a draw four down, but I’m not?” Cole laughed, running his hands through his hair and taking a deep breath. “I think we need a break from this game. We’ve been playing for over two hours.”

You stood up, brushing off your pants and stretched, hearing the popping sounds coming from your back. You took a deep breath and looked outside of your trailer, seeing the sun was starting to set. “We’re still doing the Jughead and Kairi scene tonight, aren’t we?” You asked the raven haired boy, grabbing your coat before you followed him outside, walking besides him.

“Yeah. We have to meet the producers at around 11pm. Just so it’s dark enough.” Cole nodded, smiling down at you before making his way to where all the others were sitting.

Truth is, you and Cole had been dating for about 5 months now, but you both kept your feelings hidden away in public and left it all for behind doors. Both of your family knew, and were a bit hesitant at first, since you were 19 (turning 20) and Cole was 24. Your families eventually got used to it, and you got on along so well with Dylan. It was everything he wanted in a relationship.

But there was a flaw. And that was Lili.

Now, she wasn’t a flaw herself. You found her absolutely breathtaking. She was gorgeous. But everyone wanted her to be with Cole, and that’s why you both decided to keep the relationship under wraps.

You shoved your hands in your pockets, smiling as you sat down next to Madelaine and Casey, smiling as she slid her plate across to you, the sweet potato fries already making you drool. “Are (Y/N) and I the only ones that have a late night scene to shoot?” Cole asked, looking around the table. He looked at you, gave you a small smile and turned his attention to Ross.

“I’m sure Lili will wait up for you, Cole.” He laughed, making Lili blush. You ran your fingers through your hair, taking a deep breath and continued to share the plate of fries with Madelaine. You looked at Cole, who was giving a fake laugh.

—- —-

“I’ll be back, guys.” You stood up, announcing that you wanted to take a walk and revise some lines by yourself before your scene. “Need some company?” Cole asked, raising an eyebrow. “We are shooting this scene together, if you need some help or anything.” You shook your head, smiling softly before grabbing your phone from the table and walking off towards the entrance of the lot.

“Need anyone to go with you, Hon?” The night shift guard asked you, but you shook your head, smiling. “I’ll be fine, thanks Linda.” You continued your walk out of the set and took a deep breath, hands in pockets once again.

Your thoughts were startled by your phone ringing. You looked at the caller I.D and saw ‘Sprouse #1’ with the many emoji’s next to his name. You answered the phone, holding it to your ear. “What’s up?” You asked, the main street lit up by the night life of the town.

“Where are you? We have three hours to be on set. You need to get ready.” Cole didn’t even bother saying hello. You took a deep breath, looking over your shoulder. The lot wasn’t even that far away. You had been out for about 15 minutes.

“I’ll be back in another 15 or 20 minutes, Cole. I’m fine. I just need some space.” You sighed, biting your lip and turning around. You walked into a corner store, still on the phone to your co-star and boyfriend. “No, you’ll be back now, please. Just so I know you’re safe.” Cole had whispered the last part, and you could almost picture him looking around, making sure no one was listening.

“I’m just getting a smoothie, Cole. Give me a few minutes.” You sighed, ordering the smoothie and paying for it. You took a seat, phone still to your ear. “Now. There is something on your mind. What’s the matter?” You questioned, biting your lip.

“I want to tell them, (Y/N). I don’t want them to keep trying to make me date Lili. I love her to bits. But I’m going to pull an Archie Andrews here and say I don’t love her like that. She’s a friend and that’s what I want it to stay as.” He sighed, and you could hear his trailer door shut behind him. “I just love you so much and I don’t see why a five age gap is a big deal. I just want to tell them.”

You took a deep breath, getting up and thanking the person at the counter as they called you over for your smoothie. You walked out of the store, taking a sip. “Well, I’m on my way back now. So if you want to meet me at the front and we can do it together, I’ll be happy to.” You complied with him, a smile on your lips. Now you can finally post about him without having to use the ‘best friend’ hashtag.

—- —-

“Fancy seeing you here.” You grinned, seeing Cole in all his beauty. He smiled, turning around to walk besides you. The both of you walked slowly, a silence overcoming the both of you. “How do we do this?” You asked, looking at him. He looked at you, a small smile on his lips. “You’ll find out.”

You had been sitting back at the table for about 25 minutes now. You were due in hair and make-up in another 10, and Cole still hadn’t said anything about the two of you.

“Hey, hey guys. What do you call a 3.14 metre snake?” KJ spoke up, making you furrow your eyebrows at the stupid sounding joke. “It’s a pithon. Get it. Pi. No? Yes?” You had bursted out laughing at the simple, but so stupid maths related joke. “See! At least someone enjoyed my joke!”

“I’m sure Lili enjoys Cole’s snake,” Trevor had spoken up, making you look at him.

“I’m dating (Y/N).” Cole had said it so bluntly that it had almost slipped past. You looked at him, eyes widened at how quickly he had said it. He looked at you, shrugging before going back to his fries. Madelaine and Camila had looked at you, jaws dropped and eyes wide.

“What can I say, I’m into blunt guys.” You shrugged, a laugh coming from your lips as you stood up, leaving to get ready for your next scene.

Cole had gotten up, following you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, making the rest of the cast chatter about the both of you.

“That was very blunt,” you commented, looking up at the brunette.

“I honestly had not planned that.” Cole opened the trailer door for you, a smile on his lips.

“I could tell.”

A Better Word

They say the Fair Folk give journalism majors a lot of grief.

Truths exposed in writing, forms cemented in photographs, stories stripped of flowery prose in favor of concise words. The Fair Folk generally looked down on journalism itself with disdain.

Which made one wonder who would choose to pursue this particular academic career at Elsewhere University.

Some reporters argue learning among the harshest critics on Earth would leave them more than prepared for life beyond the University. Some photographers believe this is the only place on earth to capture something truly extraordinary. Some designers heard even the programs here behave differently, and the words and photos laid out on a screen became something more on paper. Some simply hadn’t known any better.

Bernadette hadn’t known any better.

Elsewhere was affordable, the journalism program seemed decent enough. She liked writing, but did not enjoy chasing victims of the Fair Folk people down for interviews. She liked photography, but knew her writing skills were stronger. So she fell in an unlikely place, a copy editor for the student newspaper. Well, one of. There were many papers, and she’d nearly joined the most prominent one. But the students who worked for it all shared the same bright green eyes, and the rest of the University seemed to avoid that paper like the plague.

Still, she needed experience to graduate in this field, right? Maybe they got a group discount on colored contacts, who knows. People in college are weird like that.

An upperclassman had saved her from venturing too close to THAT paper. He realized she had no salt, no iron, no idea what she had enrolled into. But, like finding her niche, she adapted. Survived her first year without tragedy. (The same could not be said for Sherry from across the hall. One of the Fair Folk had complimented her eyes, and asked if she could have them. Sherry, who hadn’t known any better, jokingly said sure. It’s been months since anyone’s seen Sherry.)

For the most part, the Fair Folk did not venture close to the newsroom. The room itself had been smartly moved the moment time began to behave differently. It was now just a cramped, previously vacant classroom, but with lots of windows. Access to the outside world seemed to weaken the chance of a space being manipulated by time. 

Or maybe that was a comforting lie.

It was a lazy Saturday, salt lines had been neglected and Bernadette was alone when one of the Fair Folk waltzed inside. Silver nitrate burns on her hands betrayed him immediately. His hair was was a dark, voracious black that seemed to leach color from the world around it. His razor-sharp smile held too many teeth. His skin seemed almost translucent.

      “What are you working on?”

A voice that seemed to come from everywhere, and nowhere. Bernadette hadn’t given him more than a cursory glance before returning to the story on the screen. If she was afraid, she didn’t show it.

      “Editing a story.”

      “Chopping up pretty words in favor of boring ones?”

She smirked, adding punctuation to a sentence.

“I like to think of it as finding the best words. No sense in having a bunch of empty, meandering words when you can sum them up with one. For instance, I hate the word ‘very.’ It tells me there’s a better word, but the author hasn’t thought of it.”

The boy hummed at this, an unnerving sound, mulling it over.

      “So what if I told you I find this very boring?”

      “I’d say I’m sorry you find it dull.” 

His head tilted with mild interest. It then turned to sniff at her messenger bag, disgust showing at his inability to open it. She had always been particularly careful about her sigils and rowan. Bernadette hadn’t missed this display, tugging the bag out of arm’s reach before slipping a hand inside. Wordlessly, the boy was handed two sealed pads of butter. It was always good to have butter or cream on hand, in case you were taken. Some Fae found stealing humans more fun than actually keeping them and, in such a case, freedom could be easily bought. 

The boy grinned, ripping off the seals and lapping it up like a ravenous dog, teeth razor sharp and dripping. All the while, Bernadette kept editing the story. When every last molecule of butter was gone, he tossed the packs over his shoulder, turning full attention back to her.

      “What if I said I’m very tired?”

      “Exhausted.”

      “Very hungry.”

      “Starving.”

      “Very happy.”

      “Overjoyed.”

      “Very pretty.”

      “Beautiful.”

The boy threw his head back and laughed, sounding like a chorus of the damned, far too many sharpened teeth glinting in the afternoon sun.

      “Perhaps this isn’t so dull. What’s your name?”

      “Timmy,” Bernadette answered without skipping a beat. His grin widened.

      “No, it’s not. I bet Timmy is that reporter you don’t like. You’d be very mean to give me his name.”

She grinned in return, not at all fazed he knew there was someone here she loathed. The Fair Folk always knew something about something.

       “I can be devious sometimes.”

He laughed even harder, the room seeming to shake with the thunderous sound.

      “What did Timmy do?”

She scowled.

      “He’s a narcissist and a douchebag. Timmy encouraged one of our first-year photographers to capture Genevieve on camera for his story, and we haven’t seen the photographer since.”

The boy whistled, every gap of razor teeth producing a different tone. Her days of playing clarinet had long since passed, but she could have sworn every tone was sharp.

      “Genevieve does not like cameras. But she loves names. Perhaps a trade…”


Four days later, Timmy vanished, and Bernadette opened her dorm room to find the photographer on her futon, paper white and shoveling ramen noodles like he hadn't​ eaten for week. Knowing how obscure time can be in Elsewhere, it definitely could have been a week. His hair now turns green on Tuesdays and bank holidays, but he’s otherwise no worse for wear. And his hands are always burned. Always.

Every once in a while, when the salt lines are neglected, the boy with many voices returns. He has new phrases for her to deconstruct every time.

x

Night Owls--Harry Hook x Reader

Disclaimer-I don’ t own any of the Descendants characters all credit goes to the creators and producers of Disney Descendants 

Summary-You are a part of Uma’s crew, and you have a crush on Uma’s first mate, Harry Hook. One night, you get caught wondering in the deck by Harry himself.

Originally posted by unchxxrted

You take in the sight around you. The fresh salty air blowing through your hair as you breath it all in. Oh how you loved the sea. You hoped to one day be able to set sail on the open waves once again, but that was impossible, since the magical barrier prevented anyone from leaving this foul place. 

 It was dark outside and every one of the crew members were asleep. Being one of the lower ranked members of Captain Uma’s crew, you never really get a chance to enjoy the view of the ocean and horizon. You were mostly instructed to stay below deck, watching all the supplies to ensure nothing went missing. The only times you ever came above deck was when you went out to get a meal at Ursula’s Fish and Chips shop. Not much ever really happened on the Jolly Roger. The only reason you really stayed in this crew was because of Harry Hook. 

He was Uma’s first mate, son of Captain Hook, and the only person able to make you blush by just glancing at you. His tall, tanned figure towered above you and and the majority of the crew members. His clothes consisted of red and black, and many layers of leather, with a hat that shields his hair, though you occasionally saw him without it, revealing a thick mane of dark hair. Even his facial features were sharper than the hook he carried around to seem more like his father. 

But what always caught you’re attention the most were his eyes. He had blue eyes that were lighter than the sea, and stood out even more when he outlined them with black liner. They mostly held a stern look, but occasionally held affection and care. They showed his passion, his triumph, and his determination to make it known that Uma and her crew were not to be messed with. You admired that to most. 

But you never got to spend time with him. He was always commanding the others, carrying out Uma’s demands while you listened to his voice from down below. His Scottish accent was never hard to miss, and hard to resist. Even when the crew was at the chip shop, you sat on the far side of the counter while he was by Uma’s side, causing mischief with other members by shoving them and showing his dominance over them. He did that to the entire crew. 

Well, everyone except Uma. 

And you. 

Too busy in your own thoughts, you failed to hear the scuffle of boots along the deck. With a clearing of his throats you turned your head, and your breath hitched. 

There, before you in all his glory, was Harry himself. He was without his coat or hat, only his leather pants and belt clung loosely on his waist, his torn undershirt over his chest. His hair was uncovered, all tangled and rearranged, from tossing and turning in his sleep you assumed. He smirked a little, and slowly walked towards you. 

“Well, well, well,” he smiled, his stare never leaving your own. “What do we have here? A little night owl hovering about?” 

His voice seemed playful, but then again, he always used a playful tone when he knew he had the upper hand. You gulped, not wanting to respond. “Aw, why so quiet, catfish caught yer tongue?” 

You remained silent, which only made him chuckle. He came closer, making you pull away. You knew you were gonna be in trouble, since you weren’t supposed to be up and about in the middle of the night. It was one of Uma’s rules. 

He continued to snicker, watching you tremble under his gaze. You shifted your eyes to the ground, catching the glare of his hook on one of his belt loops. You began to pant. 

“I-I’m sorry, H-Harry,” you whispered, still shaking. 

“Ah she speaks!” He mocked, taking his right hand to lift your chin. “What are ye doing wondering around late at night. Uma would make ye fish bate if she found out.” 

You took a deep breath. “I-I don’t know, couldn’t sleep I guess.” He didn’t respond. For awhile he looked at you, as if he was trying to remind himself where he had seen you. Then, he remembered. “You work below deck, don’t ya?” You nodded the best you can, since his finger still held your chin up. He smiled a bit, but not in a evil way. “Uh huh, I’ve seen you around, you talk with that Gary fella, right?” 

Gary was your friend, though he wanted to be more. You always rejected him, but continued to talk to him nonetheless, since you didn’t really know anyone else. 

“Y-Yes,” you stuttered. 

“Poor fella, I’ve seen his attempts, yet ye never give him the light of day.” He snickered again. “What’s your name, little owl?” 

“Y-Y/N.” 

He kept looking at you, watching as your chest rose and fell at a steady pace. Then he spoke again. “So tell me, Y/N. Why don’t ya give the lad a chance, aye?” 

You thought about it for a moment and said, “He isn’t my type.” Your courage began to grow slightly as the lack of space between the two of you increased by the minute. 

His hand move from your chin to rest it on the post that pinned you, just to the left side of your head. His toned biceps came to view as he barely whispered, “And what, my little owl, is your type?” 

You couldn’t help the shiver as his breath fanned over your lips. You didn’t know what to do, what to say. Here you were, pinned to the mast post, in the middle of the night, by the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, who is asking you what your type was. You so desperately wanted to tell him that the only person to make your heart soar and butterflies to erupt was the one standing in front of you, but you couldn’t. You froze. 

Harry waited for your answer, but then he spoke up, “Well, do you know what my type is?” He smiled, leaning closer to you. You shook your head. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips and back, smirking at your obvious heavy breaths. 

“My type,” he said barely above a whisper, “is a shy, timid girl, one no one really likes to point out.” You were confused as you why he was telling you this, but let him go on anyway. He pushed back a piece of hair behind your ear with left hand, letting it gently stroke your cheek as he continued. 

“My type is a girl who tries to steal glances of me, thinking I can’t see her, when I actually catch her every time, trying to do the same thing.” His hand continued down, stroking your jaw and collar bone, down your shoulder and arm until he grasped your right hand. He looked down at your two hands and smiled. 

“My type is the one who doesn’t fight for my affection, the one who only need to laugh to make my head spin.” He spoke, lifting your hand ever so carefully, sensing your ease as your shakiness subsided. He looked straight into your eyes, bringing your hand closer to his lips, gently placing a kiss onto it, and never breaking eye contact, not before he spoke, with a voice barely audible, “My type is you, Y/N.” 

His words ran a shiver up your spine, your eyes meeting his light ones. You wanted to tell him you felt the same way, but your heart was racing at his confession. His smile grew at your reaction, evolving in to a full on grin. He took this moment to admire you. 

Your long H/C hair circling your face as the wind blew it and how the moonlight reflected the glow in your E/C eyes. His thumb gently touched your bottom lip, which were oh so tempting. 

He couldn’t take it anymore. 

He leaned in and captured his lips with yours, caressing both your cheeks as he did. To say you were shocked was an understatement. Your eyes were wide, as you didn’t know what to do at first, until you kissed him back. Once he felt you giving into him, he pulled you closer by your waist, allowing your right hand to stroke up his arm. He went to deepen the kiss, biting your bottom lip and giggling when you let out a little squeal. He picked you by your thighs, pushing you harder against the post, never letting the kiss end. You let out a gasp as you felt his lips leave yours, only to latch onto your neck, and up to the sensitive skin by your ear, nibbling it ever so slightly. Your fingers ran through his hair, earning a groan from him as you did so. He soon returned to your lips, picking the pace back up. 

Eventually, you pushed against him, your breaths heavy, leaving your hands to rest against his chest. He looked up at you, a cocky smile on his face. 

“So, I guess I’m yer type then, aye?”

Obsession


Scenario: The temp agency sent you to a new job that was supposed to be something simple that came along with easy money: lots of easy money. But simple is far from what you get when you realize, being the secretary for Jeon Jungkook, comes with his own form of demands.

A/N: this is part one of the obsession series. I blame Jungkook with his stupid sultry looks and how damn good he’s looked in suits the whole BS&T era. I ended up writing this last night sitting in my car for almost two hours.This is honestly going to be dirty and kinky and I’m not gonna apologize. I hope you all enjoy!

Genre: Jungkook x Reader

Words: 3100

Disclaimer: As always, any gifs used are not mine and belong to their rightful owners!!

Warnings: Smut, oral, and slight rough play

“I am a professional. I. Am. A. Professional. I’M A GODDAMN PROFESSIONAL!”

Your hands smacked down on the marble of the bathroom counter. The words you’d been muttering to your reflection over and over like a damn mantra somehow becoming less effective. You felt like you couldn’t breathe in the high-waisted pencil skirt, which wasn’t a ludicrous assumption since you could barely walk properly in it with, or without, the heels.

The reason behind your anxiety ridden pep talk: Jeon Jungkook.

One of the youngest high-ranking executives in the company, he was known for being incredibly smart; thinking outside the box to close deals and create new overseas partnerships, charming, and a decorated athlete. Before you’d been assigned to the company as his latest secretary, the only time you’d actually ever seen him was on the cover of magazines and photographed next to expensive people with beautiful faces to match. Jeon Jungkook held a life you envied.

Keep reading

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

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


Connor Murphy was a lot of things.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was going to be a long two weeks.

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t yell.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great! Wanna show her the room?”

Connor grinned crookedly. “Follow me, kid.”

——

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

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

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

“Your room, my lady.”

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m fi–”

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

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

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

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

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

We were very, very naked.

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

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

This was how it started, I realized.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Zoe–”

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

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

I was alone.

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

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

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

And boy, were they pretty.

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

Besides, you know, the obvious.

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

Which meant Zoe was in trouble.

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s right here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I–”

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

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

“Okay.”

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He frowned. “I don’t need the bed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know,” I said quietly.

“Know what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Connor Murphy was nothing to be ashamed of.

And now it was too late to be his friend.

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

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

I froze.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing in here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I pretended we were friends.

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

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

Connor deserved to know.

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

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

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

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

I shook my head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He swallowed. “That was two summers ago.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He cared about me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I’m not.”

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

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

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

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

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

I didn’t sleep.

——

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

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

“You’re awake.”

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

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I frowned. “What about it?”

“We won’t see each other again.”

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

He frowned. “You’d come to see me?”

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

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

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

Which wasn’t okay.

——

“This is such bullshit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Time to go back and face reality.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sor–”

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

“What?” I screeched, frustrated.

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

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

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

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

——

The panic set in at twilight.

We were running.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I nodded. “I’m really sorry, Connor.”

“Don’t be sorry. Start walking.”

——

It was an accident.

It was dark.

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

It was an accident.

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

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

“There’s no dry wood. I checked.”

“Nothing?”

“No, okay? Nothing. That’s it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck,” he growled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Something cut my hand!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t–I wouldn’t ask you to–”

“I’m not sucking you off!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ew,” he said. “Please don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God, he’s an idiot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Connor–”

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

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

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

That was the last thing I remembered.

——-

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

Connor was gone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They said the same about you.”

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

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

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

It wasn’t fair.

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

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

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

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

“I do a lot of pot.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I wasn’t talking about that kiss.”

Connor Murphy!

Degrade(Yoongi Smut)

Trigger Warning:

The chandelier above your head shined a bright radiant gold as it hung low over the heads in the crowds.  The golden dressed that hugged your waist and dipped low in the front matched the hanging sculpted light. Your hair was pinned up in loose curls some strands framing the sides of your face as you laughed and indulged in minor chatter between you and the men you were around. Your arm was placed on hip of a male who wanted your attention tonight like you wanted his. His hands were currently drawing a patterned X on your lower black, the tips of his fingers brushing against the top of your ass. The thin fabric of the dress clung to your body, your weight shifting as you moved to press down on your left heel looking around once more at the crowd in front of you, your hand reached out to grab a drink and bring it to your lips.

“How about we get out of here?” Your guest whispered, and you nodded your head smirking up at him.

“I would like that. Give me time to freshen up yes?” You asked as you made your way towards the bathroom letting him go. Gliding through the crowds of people, your eyes sought out one familiar person. Min Yoongi. Seeing the male dressed up in a dark blue tux with a black button down shirt under it you couldn’t help but move to stand beside him.

“Good evening all of you, I hope you are all having a good night.” You stated letting your eyes linger on everyone.

“We were doing fine until you came.” Yoongi countered looking at you with slight irritation. Who told you to where such a revealing dress? It burned him up to the core.

“Well then you can keep your mouth shut while I talk to the rest.” You smirked as the men around Yoongi laughed.

“In that case if my presence is no longer needed my date and I will leave.” Yoongi bowed respectfully to the elders walking off to fetch his date. Your eyes wandered down his body and back up, frowning deeply you moved to fill the little gap he left in but you wanted to talk him and find out his deal.

Ever since you were younger Yoongi always spited you for everything you did. And you never understood why he didn’t like you. It wasn’t like you weren’t attractive apparently, you were a hot commodity because every male and female wanted a piece of you. And you were never one to let anyone down. Your parents were important people, an actor and a classical composer meaning they were never around at home leaving you to your lonesome. One thing lead to another and before you knew it you were joking with a guy in high school about him giving you fifty bucks for a blow job. You could say you were very surprised when you were wiping the cum off your lips and he was handing you a crisp fifty-dollar bill to add to your savings. And you thought to yourself if you could get that from one guy, imagine what you could get from a whole population. That’s how you started it, bribing men to give you thing in exchange for your body and your time. It was a beautiful life that you created for yourself one where you worked and upheld a decent name for yourself as well as keep attention that you wanted. And you didn’t always have to sleep around, sometimes a video of your fingers buried deep in your pussy or your pierced breast pressed together was enough to get them off. Of course, sometimes you felt bad going after many people, you had married men who would always want to buy you things and or just spend time with you, have someone to listen to. Everyone had given you what you wanted, attention and gifts like the true princess you were with her pretty little head held high. But there was just one man who acted as if the very sight of you repulsed him. You had known Yoongi and his parents as long as you could remember. His family owning their own business both his mother and father were the CEO’s of the company. Yoongi was just as wealthy and privileged as you but for some reason he didn’t appear to be as lonely. He had a few girls that he kept with him but it was always the same few and they never changed. You always questioned why he kept people close to him that weren’t gorgeous like yourself. It never truly dawned on you that you were jealous, because you could have whoever you wanted! But for some reason you wanted him, he was just so sexy and masculine. He kept himself subtle but the look in his eyes held a dark secret. You sighed to yourself, feeling the ache between your legs just thinking about those plump lips pressing against your lower ones, his tongue how it would flutter and grind against your clit. You almost released an audible groan, not aware that your breast was becoming pert nubs or the fact that your piercings were starting to show through.

“Y/N are you ready?” Your date asked wrapping an arm around your lower back and pulling you as flush close to his body as he could. He was a bit jealous watching how oblivious you were with that dazzling smile and how everyone else eye fucked you.

“Yes my love, I’m ready.” You smiled up at the male grateful for him coming along. Following him outside and eventually ending up tangled in his bed sheets, you shut your eyes and imagined that he was none other than the dark haired deep eyed male letting you control him for just once in your lifetime.


It had been a few weeks since your last run in with Yoongi. But you knew without a doubt that he would be at this social gathering at a close colleague’s house, you could almost say she invited him for you. Standing in the mirror you put on something casual, a zip up body suit with lace over your breast and ripped skinny jeans. Your hair flowing down straight and loose, makeup on your face with prominent but nothing overboard. Grabbing at your ankle heels you placed them on your feet and made your way to your friend’s house.

Standing around, your eyes danced around the room, your body becoming nervous as you waited for Yoongi to come. You hated yourself because you wanted him so bad and he didn’t give a damn about you. But it didn’t matter as soon as you saw Yoongi stepping into the space you were in with a black turtle neck on and skinny jeans you wanted to melt on the spot. On his arm was one of his favorite girls, a pretty brunette with a heart shaped face and an innocent aura about her. Going for just watching him today you wanted to stay back from him but your date decided you two should go talk to him.

“Love he is busy leave him be.” You tried to reason as you were tugged by an older gentleman towards Yoongi and his group of friends.

“Nonsense we are all here to talk and have a fun time.” The male explained as you all walked up. Yoongi’s happy smile was replaced with a grimace as he saw you and for the first time your cocky exterior was cracking. Shifting nervously, you pressed against your date and his comforting hand strokes down your lower back made you calm down.

“Y/N you look a little pale. Would you like something to drink?” Yoongi asked idly. You nodded your head about to leave but your date stopped you saying he would handle it. “So, what’s the old man giving you?” Yoongi asked and you shrugged your shoulders crossing your arms over your chest.

“It’s none of your business what I get from the deal.” You snarled at him and you could see the anger growing in his face.

“Of course, it is. Everything you do is since it effects both of our families but you’re going around acting like a typical whore on the street.” Yoongi growled as he pressed his hands together in a hard line in front of him.

“Nothing I fucking do concerns you! I’m a grown ass woman who does what the fuck I want with who I want. And if you need to really know he’s giving me a new pair of kicks.” You said proudly.

“Look she’s so proud to be a slut.” Yoongi chuckled causing the people in the circle to laugh as well.

“You know what how, fuck you and go worry about those ugly girls you keep having on your shoulders.” You turned on your heels to leave not knowing why you were insulting them because they hadn’t done anything to you, Yoongi just really knew how to piss you off.

“What you call ugly I call art. At least unlike you they are faithful to me. And no thank you I’d never fuck a pussy as loose and worn out as yours.” Yoongi responded. “Besides you couldn’t even handle what I would do to you. These girls obey me.” Yoongi stated dismissing you. Turning around on your heels you glared at him, the anger raising in your face as you took minor steps forward towards him.

“Excuse me!? Loose pussy! I’m pretty sure the ones you fuck have a loose pussy or how else could your tiny dick fit inside of it? I bet it feels like a teddy bear is humping them whether they are on top or bottom. It’s funny that you think yourself is not art then because I’ve never called you ugly but maybe I should. Also, I could handle anything you gave me but no loose lips remember?” You countered back, it wasn’t the strongest attack and you felt like a child for it.

“Oh look the little baby can speak words, and she is starting to form her own sentences. I’m proud. I find it cute that you are confessing your feelings to me, I think I’m cute too. As far as I’m concerned, my size is not anything you need to know. Now run along and go ride on that dick, I know you want to.” Yoongi tilted his head towards the older male who was at the bar.

“Fuck you, you talk shit but you can’t back it up. See you around baby penis and remember I can handle whatever I want you just aren’t capable of taming me.”

“You actually think you’re tough.” Yoongi said to you rolling his neck as he took off his glasses. “But since you like indulging in child’s play so much, I’ll put you in your place right now little girl.” Yoongi gave his glasses to the girl who came with him, taking steps forward he opened his mouth to address you again. “You little slut, dirty whore. Cheap bitch.” With every word, he said to you he got closer, one hand pushing you back a bit making you stumble back until you were in the middle of the guest. “Filthy cumslut.”

“NO I’M NOT!” You shouted at him. “And I never will be any of those things. So, don’t ever call me those things again.” You didn’t realize how your voice rang or that Yoongi had set you up for failure, he gave a disappointing dry smirk.

“Exactly, which is why I would never want someone like you.” Yoongi kept his eyes on yours, and hearing the clearing of throats you looked around to see everyone look at you. You were embarrassed and upset with him. Your date who watched the whole thing go on slipped out and left you there, your plans were ruined. Turning on your heels you ran as your bottom lip quivered from anger and embarrassment. Punching a wall as you made your wall outside it created a hole that you felt in your heart.

All that night you thought about what Yoongi said and you had to admit, the way he spoke those few words to you didn’t stop playing in your head. He knew you didn’t like being dominated, you liked doing that, getting told yes and getting praises. He had basically shot you down in every area of your life and you couldn’t even handle it. But what if it felt good to be called such things as you got fucked? It couldn’t hurt too bad and if anything, Yoongi was not about to make a fool out of you. You would prove to him why you were worth it and you would make him take back his words.

All that night you thought about what Yoongi said and you had to admit, the way he spoke those few words to you didn’t stop playing in your head. He knew you didn’t like being dominated, you liked doing that, getting told yes and getting praises. He had basically shot you down in every area of your life and you couldn’t even handle it. But what if it felt good to be called such things as you got fucked? It couldn’t hurt too bad and if anything, Yoongi was not about to make a fool out of you. You would prove to him why you were worth it and you would make him take back his words.

The next morning when you got up, you laid in your bed for a while thinking on if this was really what you wanted to do and you did. You wanted to prove a point, you wanted to feel Yoongi. You were so angry with him but you wanted him at the same time and it was torture. You wanted to know why you weren’t enough for him. Getting out of your bed you threw on a pair of gray shorts and a black tank top. It didn’t take long for you to get yourself presentable enough to go and confront Yoongi. Marching up towards his door you knocked three times crossing your arms over your chest. You bit on your bottom lip when no one answered reaching forward you started to slam you fist against the door not taking the silence to well. Yoongi was shouting from the hallway and you could hear it, you were starting to become nervous as you rocked yourself back and forth on your feet. Yoongi opened the door looking down at you a mix of emotions washing over his face before a hard-tight smile was pressed onto his features.

“What do you want little girl?” He asked snarling at you. His tone made you push inside of his house past him as you glared up at him.

“We need to talk.” You said calmly.

“No, we don’t now get out.” Yoongi gripped at your wrist trying to pull you outside but you jerked away from him shaking your head.

“I’m not going any fucking where until you talk to me.” Yoongi was annoyed, cursing he slammed the door and gripped at your wrist tighter pulling you to him before his hand wrapped around your neck instead and he pressed you against the wall.

“The last thing you are going to do is bring your ass in here and tell me what to do. You need to watch your mouth and that little princess attitude. The world doesn’t owe you.” Yoongi remarked trying to be as calm as he can.

“And who’s going to make me watch it? Teddy bear?! I do what I want bitch.” You slapped Yoongi on his face trying to get him to let you go. Yoongi could feel the hand print on his face, looking back at you he slapped you back before he pulled on your hair dragging you down the hallway behind him.

“HEY LET ME GO!” You shouted out as you followed after him reluctantly.

Yoongi was quick to throw you on the bed wrestling with you to pull down your shorts and panties leaving you with just your shirt on. He slammed his room door shut and locked it. You tried to get up and dash for the door but Yoongi only caught you and kept you in his arms as he moved around his room getting things he thought he would need. Slamming you back down on the bed, he turned on his video camera. “Look at what little slut came to play with me.” Yoongi chuckled huskily his eyes growing dark as he looked down at your body. Your plump thighs on display for him as your hands tried to pull down your shirt. Yoongi could feel all his want creeping back into his body but he shook it off telling himself it would pay off it he just waited. “Here I have a few rules but the main is simple, I am the dom and you are my slave. If you can’t handle what I say or you feel it’s too hard then you might want to leave right now. You entering in this room means you gave yourself to me. Everything that I want to do to you is ok. Do you understand?” Yoongi asked pulling out his phone, he hit the audio record button repeating everything again holding out the phone to you. You didn’t know what to do until he showed you that it was recording and you understood.

“I-I understand.” You nodded your head and he smirked shutting off his phone.

“Perfect, now I know you are used to getting your way and having people baby you but you will not have that here. You are aiming to please me today, I could care less if you cum or not.” Yoongi muttered as he sat up his camera and took things out of his drawer to align along the top dresser. He turned on the camera hitting record as he watched you lay on the bed looking at him with an almost innocent expression that he wanted to wipe off your face.

“Touch yourself for me.” He commanded leaning against the dresser and you sighed.

“I can’t do that.” You frowned leaning back on your hands.

“And why not? All sluts know how to play with themselves.” He responded back looking at your figure.

“Well because I’m not turned on and I am not a slut.” You got defensive feeling your face heat up as he called you that.

“I don’t remember asking for you to speak back to me slut. Now I will say this again touch yourself of you can get the fuck out. If you can’t get horny that’s not my problem, you walk around here with your head held high and you can’t even get your own pussy wet? You’re pathetic and certainly not a sub I’d want.” Yoongi looked off unimpressed with you parts of him expecting you to leave from his harsh words, but what he got was better than what he expected.

You opened your legs for him, still very offended by what he said but if anything, it made you want to prove a point. Your hand went to cup your pussy, rubbing it up and down slowly you shut your eyes, thinking about the man in front of you that made you wet. How deep his voice was, or how long his fingers were. How it would feel to have him touching you like this, complimenting you instead of talking down on you. Your pussy got wetter, allowing you to feel like you were replacing your hand with his, stroking over your lips you pressed a finger against your clit stifling a groan.

“No. Here you will moan.” Yoongi commanded, you were never a moaner your voice bothered your own ears and you never thought anyone else would like it so you didn’t. Sliding your middle finger inside of your pussy you bit your lip again to quiet yourself shaking your head.

“I can’t.” You replied as you tried to ignore him and press your finger deeper inside of you. You heard him moving things on his desk but you didn’t think too look, slowly getting warmed up you moved your finger in and out of your dampening heat pushing it as deep as you could.

“I’ll say it again. Moan.” Yoongi commanded with a dark voice. You shook your head disobeying again and that was your mistake. Yoongi was pressing the shock wand against you causing you to yelp and jerk from the item looking to see what it was. “Did I tell you to stop?!” Yoongi asked pressing the wand against your skin causing you to cry out as you shook your head no. Your finger pressed back inside of your pussy, your hips rolling off the bed as you gave him a tiny unsure moan, he raised the shock wand to press it against your inside thigh and you moaned out his name in sheer fear of the item sending jolts through your body, it was a hard press that caused a slight pain. He moved back, watching you and you felt your heart rate calm down again. Shutting your eyes slowly you added your second finger curving them inside of your tight heat moaning for him, your legs starting to press down against the bed as you thought of this as doing it for a gift or anything that would benefit you.

“Look at me.” Yoongi commanded, your eyes slowly opened to land on his, it made you flustered how he watched you, your own eyes unsure and very flustered. You looked off and Yoongi picked up the wand from the dresser causing you to gasp and look back at him.

“Tell me, what do you want little girl? You could have all these men, and here you are my dirty slut on my bed finger fucking her pink little pussy. What can I do for you?” Yoongi asked you. Opening your mouth, you paused to think about the question before you looked at him thrusting your hips up.

“Do I really have to say it?” You asked softly your fingers slowing down inside of your pussy.

“One. If you slow your fingers down I will punish you so speed them up until I say stop. And two yes, to be a sub I need to know as your dom what you want from me. I cannot give you what I think you want. You claim you are so great, you should have no problem using that mouth.” Yoongi retorted and you frowned.

“Fuck you.” You spat out. In a flash Yoongi was standing in front of you at an angle where the camera caught everything.

“Fuck me?” He asked slamming his hands down on the insides of your thighs. “Fuck me?” He asked again slamming his hand down harder on your skin leaving imprints causing you to whine as he grabbed at your neck pushing you into the bed, holding up the shock wand he started to press it against your parted thighs and on top of your shirt causing you to whimper and squirm not wanting to feel the shocking jolts. “If I were you I would watch my mouth little girl. The only one who will get fucked here may be you if you play your cards right. And I said to move those fingers faster!” Yoongi growled as he pressed the wand down above your clit scaring you shitless. Your fingers picked up speed pressing harder into your soaked entrance, watching as he pulled back and smirked down at you letting your throat go so that he could slap at your thighs. “What do you want?” He asked after he was successful in turning your skin red, your body was throbbing every hit made you jolt, everything had you feeling very sensitive to touch.

“I want you to fuck me.” You responded as your fingers brushed against your clit, sweat starting to form against your forehead.

“That’s all? Anyone can do that.” Yoongi sighed going to grab at something else on his dresser.

“Your dirty talk sucks.” He admitted coming back up to stand in front of you.

“You may have a great pussy but you lack, and unless you can convince me before I get bored of you that I should fuck you then there is no need for you. I have my favorites.” He smirked seeing the look of slight defeat on your face mixed with irritation. “Change my mind.” He breathed out huskily, leaning down he kissed up your parted thighs causing you to whine out for him. His teeth gripping at the hems of your shirt pulling it upwards as he listened to the sounds of your fingers brushing inside of your heat. He leaned down letting his tongue flick against your pussy lips, your head rolled back as your stomach tightened up you cried out louder for him, wanting to feel more of the playful flicks he was giving to you.

“Yoongi! I’m going to cum!” You announced but he had other plans. Pulling back, he pulled at the shock wand shaking his head.

“No.” He stated simply leaning down to lick against your pussy.

“No?!” You questioned him, feeling in the back of your mind you should’ve known better.

“I said no!” Yoongi growled out hovering the wand over your pussy. “Bad girls don’t get cummies and you are far from a good little slut, you will not cum until I say so or I swear you will get me off and I will give a fuck about if you find pleasure today or not.” You groaned rolling your head back trying to move your fingers and thrust at another spot but Yoongi shocked you twice. “No cheating, fuck your spot.” Yoongi commanded. You shifted your fingers again acting as if you found your spot and though you were moaning for life Yoongi saw through your bullshit. “Untrustworthy slut.” He chuckled angrily going to his desk to grab at a purple dildo. He pried your fingers away from your heat throwing your hand away as he pressed the dildo against your entrance. “Suck on your fingers like a good girl or you get the wand.” Him saying the words alone had you shoving your fingers down your throat moaning around them as he slid the toy inside of you, turning it on low he watched your reactions as he thrust it in and out of you at different spots wanting to find where you lost your mind. You were doing good of riding the toy always trying to one up him. Yoongi gripped at your hips pushing you down against the bed, a cry erupting from your lips as the toy found your spot. Your head rolled back as the vibrations were turned to medium, Yoongi leaned down to lick up your juices that were escaping from your pussy, biting back a groan he let his tongue dance up and down your lips, soon he was pressing his tongue against your throbbing clit that wanted attention. He watched you shift your hips, his tongue making a slow languid lick up and down as he kept you pinned to the bed.

“I can’t Yoongi!” You cried out, the vibrations becoming too much. This only excited him more, he switched the knob on the bottom making sure it was on the highest settings not pulling the toy out as he watched you writhe against the bed.

“Be a good girl. Don’t cum.” Yoongi warned moving to stand over you. He let his hands start to slap at your thighs again, eliciting sweet moans from your lips that he didn’t get the first time. You just didn’t know it but you were starting to break for him piece by piece. He saw your hardened breast under your shirt and he leaned down to flick his tongue against it, feeling little balls on each side he knew you had a piercing, looking up at you with surprise he kept his mouth shut for now, pulling on the piercing with his teeth as you shook your head.

“Are you going to cum?” He teased as he saw your toes curl, your thighs lifting as your face got red. Yoongi was un merciful as he let the toy assault your spot, knowing the vibrations were killing you.

“It’s too much.” You whined, your stomach clenching as you shut your eyes from the pleasure.

“Look at me. I said look at me!” He grabbed at the shock wand pulling the dildo back as he started to shock you making you feel in a state of having an orgasm and losing it at the same time, you were frustrated that you had been denied, your juices leaked out on the bed. Yoongi smirked at the puddle you had made.

“Shirt off.” He said and you did as instructed taking off your shirt and throwing it onto the ground.

“Lick up your juices.” Yoongi pointed at his bed.

“I don’t know who’s been on this bed.” You twisted up your face. Yoongi grabbed at your hair pulling you until he was pushing your face down into the puddle of juices, his free hand reaching for a cane flogger that he slapped against your back causing your skin to mark up as you tried to yell out in pain, feeling suffocated as your face was pressed against the damp spot.

“As of now, the whore that’s been on the bed is you so you shouldn’t have a problem licking up your own juices unless your pussy isn’t all that great.” Yoongi growled his fingertips brushing against your scalp as he pulled your head back, looking in your eyes he pressed his forehead against yours. “I’ll say it again. Fucking lick it up.” It was something about the darkness in his eyes that made you not want to question what would happen if you didn’t do it. Leaning down against the bed, your tongue stuck out as you started to lick at the wet spot, your cheeks burning as he let you go and went for his camera pressing it in your face. You stopped and he glared grabbing at the wand. You went back to licking the spot swirling your tongue around the silk materialled sheets that he had on his bed.

“Do you taste good slut?” He asked and you nodded your head. “That’s a good little slut.” Yoongi praised, it did something to your insides, your pussy was already a state but hearing him say good anything had you liking the sound of it, your toes curling as you wanted to hear more of it from him. Yoongi sat the camera back down looking back at you he grabbed more toys. “On your back.” He commanded and you did so, watching him. He leaned down letting his tongue glide against your nipples one by one. Soft moans echoed from your lips as you arched your back, your hands tangling into the sheets beside you.

“You’re starting to give into daddy.” Yoongi commented as he bit down onto your piercings, his tongue delighted to feel the metal balls pressed against your pert nipples. He gripped at the nipple clamps pressing them down on each of your breast. You winced wanting to take them off, to make it worse he started to pull on the chain causing you to groan wanting to be free of the things.

“Tell me what you want.” Yoongi asked again moving to take off his shirt, your eyes roamed his figure looking over his smooth flawless skin, he had one hickey on his collarbone and that made you feel jealous, looking up in his eyes you bit on your bottom lip clearing your throat.

“I want you to touch my pussy, to play with me. Use your tongue.” You said avoiding his gaze.

“You’re getting a little better. Who am I?” He asked and you lifted an eyebrow.

“Yoongi.”

“Nope try again.” He said and you frowned.

“I’m not calling you daddy.” Oh but you will. He promised darkly. “On all fours. Ass up face down.” You rolled over for him, getting into position as he wanted, you heard him shift around behind you, not knowing what he grabbed but soon you felt him pour some substance on you that you took as oil or something of the sort. Yoongi rubbed it into your ass, grabbing a paddle he aligned the cool mahogany colored wood against your ass striking you once. A loud cry of pain erupted from your lips as you looked over your shoulders up at him. Yoongi winked down at you hitting your ass again watching as the flesh jiggled. He grabbed the purple vibrator sliding it back inside of your pussy, he thrust it in and out of you while he spanked your ass.

“Who am I?” He asked again as he saw your hips move, the dildo thrusting against your spot as quick as he could move his hand. Your back arched and he slammed the paddle back down onto your body, you didn’t speak thinking you could get away with it. Yoongi growled taking the toy from you and denying you any pleasure. He swung the paddle down against your ass until it was a blistering red color, the prints looking angry against your skin. He trailed his fingers across the marks disappointed that you weren’t listening to him. He dropped the paddle rolling you onto your back. Smiling sweetly, he grabbed at a small plastic bag setting it on the bed, the other hand connecting his black battery on the underside of a glue gun that he had. Yoongi walked around the bed, reaching under to get restraints to cuff your arms wrist above your head on the bed. He walked back around you undoing the tied-up plastic bag watching you.

“It’s been a while, since I’ve did this to someone, but you will break. And if you cum, you will not ever get to touch me again.” He promised looking you in your eyes. He pushed the dildo back inside of you, letting the high vibrations ring through your body. Your hands jerked on the cuffs that were around your wrist. He moved to press the hot glue gun against your chest.

“What are you-“ You couldn’t even ask because he slapped your pussy causing you to gasp as he squeezed down on the trigger, the hot liquid pressing on your skin and causing you to hiss. It was so hot that the smoke was rising from it as he slid it down in a line.

“TAKE IT OFF!” You cried out, your body turning red as Yoongi decorated a pattern on your stomach with it.

“Say the words and I will.” Yoongi responded as if it wasn’t a big deal. You grit your teeth watching you and hating him, he smirked drawing the glue down to your thighs. “Do you know why I chose glue instead of wax?” He asked and when you shook your head he smirked pulling his whip from his drawer setting the hot glue gun down over paper towel. “it’s easier to break off.” He commented as he started to whip your skin. Loud curses of pain left your lips, but strangely enough some part of you liked it, every strike that he cracked against your skin. Yoongi gripped at the shock wand with his free hand pressing it against your body, you became a mess, writhing with a dildo buried inside of your crying out, almost literally as your eyes welled up. Yoongi kept going not pausing or slowing down.

“What am I?” He urged again, letting the whip focus on your abused nipples that were already suffering from the clamps.

“Daddy!” You shouted out, anger washed over you, you were embarrassed to be giving into him, he chuckled sitting down the shock wand that had your body writhing, he gripped at the dildo pressing it against your spot fucking you with it quickly.

“Say it again.” He commanded, you looked at him but the striking of the whip caused your mind to blank and you just reacted.

“Daddy! Fuck daddy! Please.” You whimpered out feeling your hips jerk against the toy, you wanted to cum so badly.

“No.” Yoongi denied you again pulling the toy from you. You were angry with that man you wanted to get up and walk away but you couldn’t because you agreed to stay, you had wanted this all these years and now you were getting it. Yoongi gripped at the hot glue gun again, pouring more on your body but this time he was sticking little pieces of paper to it. Looking down through teared eyes you watched as he decorated your body. He gripped at your hair pulling your head up a bit so that you could see better.

“All these words on your body are what you are to me. A dirty filthy slut. A cumslut, a sperm dumpster. A rag doll whose only good for fucking.” Yoongi commented, your eyes watered up more at his words, his other hand let the glue gun go as he stroked your clit, your anger slowly being replaced by pleasure but the tears poured from your eyes.

“Say it.” Yoongi commented. He knew you hated this, the look on your face, being turned on by those words said to you but your hips moved, your body was craving his fingers to brush against you, you wanted him. He slipped two fingers inside of you stretching you out and finger fucking you. You bit on your bottom lip as he pressed his forehead against yours, moaning as he rolled his hips against one of your legs. He was intoxicating and he was indeed breaking you. “Are you going to be good for daddy?” He asked softly curling his fingers against your spot. Your mouth flew open as you let out a jagged breath. “That’s right baby, I want this pussy. I want you to feel good. But you have to give into daddy.” He said the words so sweetly almost as if it were a promise. You shut your eyes before opening them again, rolling your hips against his fingers. “What are you?” He asked licking across your bottom lip.

“I’m daddy’s little slut.” You whispered out to embarrassed to say it louder.

“What?” He asked you, his fingers picking up speed.

“I-I’m daddy’s little slut.” You said again a bit louder as his fingers continued to assault your spot.

“Yeah? You’re my dirty little fuck toy, aren’t you?” Yoongi growled biting on your bottom lip causing you to whimper as he finger fucked you harder.

“Yes I am!” You cried out as your stomach tightened but you knew you had to hold it, you just knew it.

“All mine to fuck and destroy, everything on you is mine, even this dirty little pussy.” Yoongi pulled his hand back to slap at your pussy before he shoved in three fingers inside of you soon making it four.

“Say it. Say what you are.” Yoongi worked on your slicked pussy, watching as you struggled to speak because of the pleasure. Instead of slowing down he added another finger inside of you, all his fingers and his thumb buried into your pussy. Grabbing at the shock wand he pressed it against your skin causing you to cry out.

“I’m your dirty little fuck toy! Everything is yours! Yes, daddy it’s all yours.” You cried out rolling your head back before you could feel his fist closing up inside of you. “Daddy no! Daddy please no.” You looked down at him as he started to fist you. Yoongi smirked proudly, you were the second girl he ever tried this with, sliding his fisted hand in and out of you he rubbed your clit with his hand after he sat down the wand.

“Sluts get fisted baby girl. Look at how you’re taking this fist up your pussy. You’re that loose? A fucking whore I knew it. On your knees, all the time. How many men have you let do this?” He teased causing your face to heat up as you moaned your eyes shutting as he fucked you. You were embarrassed you knew you were sight to see with all these words hot glued on your body and a man’s fist up your pussy. Your hair was starting to stick to your face, your body was having a hard time regulating breathing. Yoongi slowly removed his fist and his hand from you when he knew you wanted to cum. It hurt so bad, your pussy was throbbing with release, the juices were sliding from you and you felt empty. Looking up at Yoongi you watched as he took off his pants walking around the bed. “Open.” He commanded you.

He dropped his boxers as you looked up at him, seeing his hard cock spring out to press in the air. The tip was red and angry, his veins popping out against his skin and he looked sexually frustrated. Yoongi waited for you to open your mouth, sliding you up a bit, he made sure your head was hanging off the bed, his slipped his cock past your lips opening his legs wider to be on either side of his face. He started to roll his hips forward burying himself down your throat as much as he could. Rutting his hips forward he watched as you stretched your mouth wide trying to fit him in without choking too much. His balls were slapping you in the face causing you to become more flustered as his fingers busied themselves back on your clit.

“Mmm you’re sucking me so well. You must really like my balls in your face. Or you’re just a very cock hungry girl.” He teased as he picked up the speed of his hips. Yoongi gripped at your hips lifting you up in the air, your legs on either side of his face as you were hanging upside down. Not able to do much but place your hands on his knees due to the restraints you felt your heart pound hard in your chest at the thought of him dropping you. Yoongi started to lick at your abused pussy, shoving his tongue into your entrance he tasted all of you burying his face as much as he could. He gave you moans letting it vibrate onto your body as you moved your head up and down on his shaft, your tongue finding his most sensitive parts and attacking them, Yoongi knew you were good at head which was why he saved this, it was hard enough not giving into you. He wanted you but he had to treat you like he hated you or he would have always given in. Yoongi let his tongue swirl around your pussy, mapping out the insides of your slick heat. His tongue licked up all your juices, before he pulled back to grab at your ass cheeks and spread them wide, looking at the camera and hearing you whimper around his dick lodging it down your throat causing you to choke as he teased your asshole. He smirked proud to get the reactions out of you that he wanted.

He slowly pulled away and pressed you down into the bed before he pulled out of your mouth. Yoongi gripped at the restraints taking them off you moving back to slide the camera stand close to the bed. He pulled at your hips moving you until you had one leg pushed up and the other down, on your stomach but your upper half was twisted. He aligned himself with your heat, but he didn’t push in. “Fuck yourself on it pro.” He responded slapping at your ass cheek. You huffed, licking over your swollen lips you tried to move your position. “No, just like this, I want to capture that wet pussy taking me in on camera.” He admitted as he kept you in place. Slowly you slide down on his cock, your head rolling back as you took only half of him in. You didn’t need time adjusting thanks to him and other encounters. Bouncing yourself on his dick as much as you could your hands fisted the sheets under you as you rode him. Yoongi bit on his bottom lip knowing your game. You only took half of him in so you wouldn’t moan or get caught by the camera enjoying it or doing too much work. He gripped at the top of your thigh by your hip sliding himself forward earning a moan of pleasure from your lips. It was the first time you had bothered to take anyone in all the way and no one until now had caught your game. Yoongi leaned over your body, grinding his hips forward as your hand pressed on his lower stomach.

“Fuck Y/N. I see why you stay tight. Have you been cheating all these years’ baby girl? That’s.. Cute” Yoongi admitted slowly snapping his hips forward he pulled back to grab at the camera pressing it downwards to look at how he connected with you, your ass meeting his hips as he slipped deeper inside of you.

“Daddy don’t.” You whimpered slightly feeling full of his cock buried inside of you, becoming connected to him in ways that you had never done before. Yoongi had his own agenda staring to speed up he held the camera in place as he watched you.

“Don’t what? Fuck this little pussy until you’re cumming? Fuck you into the mattress? Or paint all of you white because you don’t know how to handle teddy bear’s dick?” Yoongi smirked as he continued to snap his hips against yours picking up speed. His impactful thrusts got harder, his lust filled eyes studied your body, Yoongi leaned down to grab at the chain pulling it causing your breast to feel sore and you whined out laying against the bed. He made sure that every thrust had you gasping for air or calling out for him in some way. He sat the camera back down keeping you in position, his free hand pulled at your hair as he turned your head to his. Kissing your lips, he wasted no time slipping his tongue into your mouth giving you a very wet and sloppy kiss, your teeth clashing with one another as he fucked you harder. He gave a pattern hitting your spot three times before he missed on purpose. He pulled back to growl against your lips, looking in your eyes as his hand moved to grab at your neck instead. He shifted his hips to land strictly against your spot, causing you to try and gasp for air as he brought you down against him, slamming you on his shaft. He bit on your jaw, his other hand pressing down into the bed as he ruined you on his sheets. Your eyes were overflowing with water, the mix between pain and pleasure, your stomach tightening up and air cutting off was too much. You were overwhelmed but it felt great and you knew soon you were going to cum.

“You want something?” Yoongi growled, rolling his hips forward pulling out until he had just the tip in and slamming back inside of you creating a faster rhythm, his hips were starting to feel sore and he had the strongest urge to cum but he had to get you off first.

“Can I cum?” You whispered as his grip got a little tighter.

“Can you cum what pet?” He asked you as he watched your eyes drop and your face form the most beautifully aroused expression he had ever seen in a slave.

“Can I cum daddy?” You asked before you looked in his eyes. “Please let me cum Yoongi.” The way you said his name, had him groaning out yours as he nodded. “Cum kitten.” He wasn’t going to last long but seeing you give into your orgasm and tighten up around his shaft, how your whole body shook and bent to his will, your essence sliding out on his cock as he released your neck was enough. Yoongi quickly picked you up, pressing your back against his chest and spreading your legs out wide he fucked you in the air pounding his hips up creating more lewd sounds of skin colliding with skin your juices dripping down to his balls. He continued slamming into you until you were a sobbing mess meeting your second orgasm. Yoongi released as soon as you did the second time, slamming you down on the bed he pinned your wrist beside your head driving into you harder, both of your legs spread as he let his shaft penetrate you. You were trying to move, the overstimulation becoming too much as he fucked your spot harder. It took a bit longer but he had you cumming for the third time pinning you in place, his hips circling against your ass, his wet balls slapping against your pussy, Yoongi pulled back feeling another wave hit him, his cum shooting out in thick ropes onto your lower back and your ass some escaping to slip down your crack. Yoongi took deep breaths combing his dark blue and black hair from his face. Letting his heart calm down he lifted you up a bit taking off the nipple clamps and going to turn off the camera. He started to clean up his stuff as you lay there soaked in cum and hot glue with letters. You rolled over on your back, slowly starting to unpeel the letters from your body. You felt sore and your eyes searched for the male that had escaped into the bathroom and turned on his shower. You got up, thinking that it was all over wanting to just go back home to bask in this and frown that it was over but at least you had more dates.

“What are you doing?” Yoongi asked you as he came from his closet with a towel around his waist going towards his bathroom.

“I’m going home.” You said as if it was obvious. “I have a date later.” You reached for your shirt but Yoongi snatched it smirking.

“No you don’t. You’re mine now. And that doesn’t mean I’m your man but when I call you, then you come running because that’s what we agreed on.” He smirked at the color drain from your face.

“It was a one-time thing!” You shouted.

“Ahh see that’s where you’re wrong. You see, I have a sex tape of you now. And that means unlike your little plan of just fucking me to say you got me, I enjoy degrading you very much and I plan to do it as many places as possible.” He winked before you opened your mouth.

“I’ll sue! You can’t do this!” You yelled glaring at him because you couldn’t fathom the fact that someone could one up you or trap you especially him!

“Well I’ll tell you what. If you do sue, I have a voice audio as a verbal agreement between us. I will also let you go, but I get to show your parents. And all the men you’ve ever screwed. I know for a fact the things I’ve done to you no man hasn’t. O-Oh~ Yoongi.” Yoongi smirked faking one of your moans causing your body to become heated with rage and a deep scarlet set on your skin. You sat there rooted in place unbelieving this had happened to you.

“See, you may be smart but I am smarter. Why do you think I stayed away? Not because I didn’t want you, I just had to play your game. SO now you belong to daddy who is going to shower, and when he comes back you better be clean and waiting for me to tell you what you and I will do today. But since you had to misbehave so quickly then I won’t bother to tell you where the bathroom is. But it does take me on average ten minutes to shower.. If I was my hair.” Yoongi shut the door and you thought about escaping or even disobeying but one sound of the shocker pressing against the door had him gloating and you limping to find the nearest bathroom.

~

I literally redid this story four times so I hope you all really like it.

Mob

summary: you and shawn’s friends get mobbed when you go out for some food


“Hey, rockstar, you want anything from the shop down the block?” You asked, walking up to Shawn.

He looked up from where he was sitting on the dressing room floor, scribbling down some lyrics. The meet and greet was set to start in about an hour and half, but Shawn was struck with some good melodies and wanted them down before he forgot.

“Um, not particularly, but if you see something I like, you can get it. I’ll pay you back.”

“Don’t worry about it, babe.”

“Are you going alone?” Shawn asked, biting his lip. “There are a lot of fans outside, and I don’t want you to-”

Matt clapped Shawn on the shoulder, and smiled at him. “Don’t worry about it, bro. Brian, Ian, and I are going, too.”

“Alright.” Shawn nodded, and you bent over to kiss his forehead before the four of you headed out of the venue, making sure you all had the all-access passes to get back inside.


Laughing at Ian, you jumped when someone tapped on your arm. “You’re dating Shawn Mendes, right?” She asked, popping her gum.

“Um, yeah.” You nodded, cautious.

“You two are so cute together! Do you mind if we take a selfie?” She asked, smiling brightly.

“Oh, sure!” You nodded, smiling into the girl’s camera. You made eye contact with Brian, who was standing back far enough that his head was between your’s and the girl’s, causing you to let out a snort.

“Thank you!” The girl skipped off, and you rolled your eyes at the redheaded boy.

The four of you ordered your food, and Matt was paying for his, when you felt your phone go off. You looked down, a text from Shawn. Hey, some girl tweeted out where you and guys are, just be careful getting back. Love you.

“Hey, the fans know where we are, so like, maybe we should head back a different way?” You looked at the guys, who all exchanged looks.

“I mean, if we head back now, we shouldn’t get too many girls coming up to us, right?” Ian asked, pocketing his phone.


Boy was he wrong. Girls had already begun to crowd the sidewalks, not nearly as many as when Shawn would be out, too, but there were many more girls than you were used to. “Guys, c’mon, just let us though.” Matt said, leading the way to the venue.

You kept a solid stare on his back, not really talking to anyone.

“Come on! We just want a photo! Please! We drove four hours for this show!”

“Y/N! Y/N! Can you give this to Shawn!?”

Things were thrusted towards you, and hands gripped your arms. You felt like everything was getting closer and closer together, like the fans wanted to be as close to you as possible.

“Hey, guys, back up!” Ian gently tugged the girls away from you.

All three boys knew you didn’t really do too well in crowds like this, so they were trying to keep everything calm and get back to the venue.

“Stop being such a bitch and take photos with us!”

“Hey!” Brian yelled, not caring if he seemed rude. “Shut the fuck up. You’re already invading our personal space, don’t fucking demand things like that.”

You were thankful for him, but you just wanted to get inside.


Finally, you four made it inside, where Shawn was waiting just behind the doors. You nearly collapsed into him, since you were out of the public eye and able to breakdown. “Hey, hey, it’s ok. You’re ok, it’s fine, shh.” Shawn rubbed your back, sitting on the floor with you in his lap.

He nodded to his friends, letting them know he could take it from here, and gently rocked you. “It’s ok, it’s over.”

After a few minutes, your cries lessened to the occasional sniffle and whimper, and your breathing had more or lesser evened out. “I’m sorry,” You looked at his shirt, which was now spotted with mascara.

“You have nothing to apologize for, honey.” Shawn whispered, tucking some hair behind your ear.

“It’s just- they got so close. And they kept asking for photos. And touching me, trying to get closer.” You felt your heart speed up, and Shawn shushed you, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I know, hun. But you’re ok, you’re safe now, I got you.” He stood up, and helped you up after. “C’mon, why don’t you go freshen up, hmm?”

You nodded, and walked into the bathroom, and Shawn walked into the dressing room. “What the fuck happened?”

None of the boys had touched their food; they were all sitting on the couch, just looking at the cherry-colored table. “Is she ok?”

“Yeah, she’s gonna be fine. What happened?” Shawn repeated, sitting on the arm of the black leather couch.

“Um,” Matt sat back, looking at his friend. “We met some fan inside the café, and I guess she tweeted out where she met us. Didn’t expect that many girls to show up.”

Shawn hummed, pursing his lips. “Fuckin’ disrespectful.” He mumbled, texting someone. “Um,” He looked up, furrowing his brows when he saw you walk in. “You feelin’ better?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, voice weak. “Thanks for like, protecting me.” You smiled at Shawn’s friends, who all shrugged like it was nothing.

“Gotta protect the girl who makes him happy.” Ian jabbed a thumb at Shawn, who chortled.

The five of you ended up just joking with each other for the rest of the hour, wanting to get your mind off of small mob that had surrounded you earlier.


a/n: i’m not happy w this, but i restarted it three times so

5 a.m. [Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader]

Summary: Inspired by the one time me and some friends went to McDonald’s at 5 a.m. The reader, craving junk food, drags a sleepy Lin out of bed, way too early in the morning. The breakfast menu isn’t up yet. Chaos and shenanigans ensue.

Word counter: 4,474

Warnings: None, just a really sleepy and grumpy Lin. 

Authors Notes: @sunshinemiranda - i cannot believe i got to the chance to collab with ren again??? you guys, this honestly all stemmed from this really cute story she told me and then me (being pushy and annoying as per usual) needed to get in and then this came into being!! we got so attached, we made headcanons for this, unbelievable. i still want to make a prequel. enjoy.

@alexanderhamllton - i got to collab with my girl again, can you guys BELIEVE??? I am so happy with how this turned out, we made a whole lot of headcanons (hence the mixtapes) and we really hope you guys like it! If you want more from this universe PLEASE let us know, because we would love to wirte that! 

askbox | olivia’s masterlistren’s masterlist


Lin wasn’t expecting his phone to ring at 5 in the morning. He wasn’t expecting anything but a solid sleep that he desperately needed after too many late nights full of work. Funny thing was, life had a screwed up talent at ruining expectations.

His phone lit up in the dark, vibrating against the wooden bedside table with a vicious energy. With a groan, he stabbed a button blindly and brought it to his ear without even bothering to emit a greeting. It was too early for that.

“Lin. Listen, it’s 5 am. You wanna go to McDonald’s with me?”

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you might get an ovation

pairing: daveed diggs x reader, lin-manuel miranda x reader, daveed x reader x lin (i think that’s how this should be listed idk) 

request: @iamafangirlforeverthing​: “Can you write a reader imagine where daveed and Lin compete for her affections and just pure nsfw…” and @itsme-ashley-marie​: “Can I get some super kinky role play?!” AND @derpypenguin​: “Lin smut with maybe some nice daddy/sir kink with some bondage maybe??”

summary: lin and daveed are both super into reader. she goes with this for a little, before they realize there’s only one way to make them all happy.

warnings: NSFW, smut, flirting, wall sex, dom/sub, begging, dirty talk, clippng lyrics, oral sex, prof/student roleplay, bath sex, threesome (kinda…), spitroasting, mentions of other kinks,

word count: 4,936

a/n: i am going straight to hell. probably tomorrow, honestly. title from clippng’s “wriggle.” this was fun. enjoy!! lemme know whatchu think!! the sequel to this smut sin is here 

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Talking Body

Reader x Klaus Mikaelson

(NOT MY GIF)

*requested

Imagine: You are in a extremely heated situation with Klaus and your younger daughter bursts in, so you have to explain to her what’s happening and the older one, who understands what you were doing, keeps making disgusted sounds. After it is all done, you go back to what you were doing.

Warnings: dirty, dirty smut. oral sex (female receiving). sex, ofc. a bit fluff. roughness. swearing. and i guess that’s it.

Word Count: 3105


Being Klaus Mikaelson’s partner was definitely not an easy task; aside the fact he was a very complicated and troubled man, the blond had many enemies who craved to see him defeated, which means you were always their first target when they wanted to draw his attention. A bunch of fools, if you were to be honest, for you were no damsel in distress. Matter fact, you had been taught to fight ever since you could remember. Born in a werewolf family, it was kind of obvious that your parents guaranteed to never leave their beloved child unprepared to the supernatural life.

“Mum!” Cami, your younger daughter, yelled, getting you out of your inner thoughts. You closed the book you were reading and offered her a happy smile. “Dad won’t let me have cookies!”

“That’s because you just had dinner!” A masculine voice replied, trying to sound angry. A soft laugh left your lips. “Agree with me on this, darling.”

“Your father is right, baby.” You stroke her red cheek, placing one blonde curl behind her ear. “Also, you need to go to bed. It’s late.”

“Urgh.” She whined, pouting, making both you and Klaus giggle. “This isn’t fair!”

Whilst the girl escaped, running out of the room, you stood up from the cushioned armchair you were sitting on and went straight to your husband's​ arms, enjoying, afterwards, the warm hug he gave you. It was adorable how he never stopped doing these little things like hugging, kissing, holding your hand, grabbing your ass whenever you were not paying attention… All of it; Klaus simply could never stop reassuring his love for you. As for yourself, well, the feelings were wildly mutual.

“I’ll tuck her in.” He whispered in your ear, sending chills down your spine. “Wait for me in our room wearing that. I’ve been wanting to tear that dress out of you all day long.”

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Camp food

“Nichole, that’s not how a lady sits” the girl’s mother didn’t even look up from her book. It was as if she could simply feel the bad posture.

Nikki tried her best not to groan and sat straight up.

“Feet flat on the floor.”

She shifted her position so that she was no longer sitting on her feet, and they dangled just above the floor.

“Feet flat ON the floor. If they dangle, you’ll just kick your feet like you always do.”

Nikki scooted a bit forward so that her feet could reach the ground. It was taking everything in her power to not just inhale her meal and run off to go play.

But now there was a new problem, her right leg was shaking.

This wasn’t a new problem for Nikki, she used to claim it meant it was happy, but her mom told her that it was disruptive and needed to stop. She made a conscious effort to try and will her leg to stop, but it kept shaking as if dancing to a song no one else could hear.

Her mother simply looked up. That slight, almost unnoticeable motion was enough to make Nikki freeze in place.

“This is a dinner table, not a jungle gym. You can play when you’re finished Nichole.”

“I’m sorry mom…”

“If you’re sorry then fix it.” Nikki nodded and stepped on her right foot with her left. Her feet weren’t flat on the ground, but at least her leg wasn’t shaking.

She hadn’t even touched her food.

It wasn’t that her mom wasn’t a good cook, she was great, but every dinner was an exercise in remembering how to eat. It took years just to get which utensils go on which side of the plate. Nikki didn’t see the point, nor did she understand why you even needed more than one fork. They’re all forks, and she has two perfectly good hands anyway, no utensils needed.

She’d never actually try that though, at least not with her mom right there.

“Nichole, stop picking.” She froze again, she didn’t even realize she had been picking. Looking down, one of the scabs on her arm was bleeding. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, Nikki was always playing with or picking at things, be it loose thread, one of her many bandaids, or the wounds they cover. It got especially bad when she was nervous.

“Hey mom? I’m not really super hungry.”

“Put plastic wrap on it and put it in the fridge, we’ll try again later.” This always happened. She was beginning to forget what warm food tasted like. At least not warm food that hadn’t been microwaved only to go back in the fridge without having a bite taken out of it.

–***–

“Camp?” Nikki looked up from the sand box. She wanted to dig for pirate treasure other places but she didn’t get yelled out when she dug here.

“Yes, I was thinking of sending you to a summer camp,” the woman smiled slightly seeing her daughter’s excitement.

“Like outside? In nature?”

“Absolutely. I think it’ll be just what you need.”

“Will it have fun games and adventures?! Can I wrestle bears and befriend wolves and make new friends?”

“You can do… some of those things, yes.”

“Thank-you thank-you THANK-YOU” Nikki jumped up and hugged her mom’s leg. “What’s it’s name? Where’s it at?”

“The sleepy pines. They’re called the flower scouts.”

–**–

The first week hazing had been bad, but Nikki took it in stride, initiations were always like this on TV. She was tough though and while these girls were… well girly, Nikki wanted to be their friends more than anything. This was her chance to go to camp and make friends and go on adventures with them. She didn’t want to blow this.

The second week was worse, they stopped being friendly all-together. They started calling her things like “weirdo”, “freak”, “disgusting”, they made it a game to get up and move when she’d try to sit with them. What’s worse, they’d give the same treatment to everyone who tried to be nice to her. It wasn’t long before the whole camp avoided her like a plague. She started to feel like that’s what she actually was.

Why wasn’t she normal? If she was, then her mom wouldn’t be so disappointed in her. If she was, these girls would want to be friend. If she was, then she wouldn’t feel so lonely.

The final straw was something simple. She was sitting alone for dinner, like she always did. She didn’t have to worry about eating a certain way, it’s not like using forty forks like her mom told her would suddenly make everyone give her another chance. The food was delicious too, these camp chefs were apparently hired from France. Still, it felt so lonely.

“Ew, she’s peeling her scabs!” Nikki was brought back from her daydreams by the entire mess hall pointing and staring. Some of them even took out phones to take pictures.

“She’s such a fucking freak!”

“Do you think she eats them?”

“Probably, it’s like she’s not even human.”

“She’s probably not, she’s an ugly rat.”

“Eww, what if she has bugs?”

Nikki felt like a trapped animal, which is exactly what they thought she was. She backed a couple paces away from the table before running out of the cafeteria, tears forming in her eyes.

It didn’t take her long to flag down a counselor and ask to use a phone.

“Hello? Residence of doctor-”

“Mom?”

“Nichole? Are you calling from camp?”

“I…” she sniffed, “I wanna go home! I don’t like the flower scouts! They don’t do adventures or even go into the woods! A-and they’re mean and I don’t wanna be a flower scout, I wanna be a Nikki.”

There was a long sigh on the other side, “Are you sure you can’t stick out for a couple months?”

“N-none of them like me, they think I’m we-e-e-eird.” She sobbed, and wiped her nose with her sleeve.

“Sweetie, this wouldn’t happen if you just acted like a lady” Then the realization hit Nikki, she sent her there to try and change her, she wanted her daughter to act like these mean kids.

She took a deep breath and tried to compose herself. “I wanna go home.”

“…are you sure?”

“Mmhm.” She sniffed

“Alright, I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“…okay. I love you.” She was answered with a repeated beeping, indicating her mom had hung up.

–**–

The mess hall was… well a mess. Max had convinced Space kid that the astronauts ate toothpaste and now there’s mint scented vomit all over that table. Nerris, having witnessed that, failed her constitution saving throw and lost her lunch as well. Then David, walking in without a care in the world, slipped on it and ate shit.

Max was basking in the situation he created, trying to get a handle on his hysterical laughter. Neil completely lost his appetite and pushed his tray away. Nikki hadn’t really noticed any of it, she was just scarfing down her food, completely spaced out.

Max snapped in front of her, “Nik, are you even seeing this?”

“Huh what? That’s a lotta barf.”

“Not the barf, well yeah the barf, but I meant David. He nearly fucking faceplanted in it!” Max laughed even harder when he noticed how much Neil was gagging. Nikki smiled more.

“Sorry I was out of it,” she said. “I was eating.”

“How can you eat this shit anyway? It’s not even real food.” He’s right, it couldn’t compare to home cooked meal, and especially not something made by professional chefs. But sitting here in perched frog on Lilly pad position, with her right leg shaking away, between her two best friends who, while flawed, love her for who she is and not despite it… she couldn’t ask for a better dinner.

“I dunno, it’s just good.”

“Whatever Nikki.” That’s right, she wasn’t Nichole, she wasn’t a flower scout. She was Nikki, and she was where she belonged.

Birthday Breakfast

Summary: It’s your birthday, and what better way to celebrate than by having an amazing birthday breakfast thanks to the Avengers, as well as one last exceptional gift from a special someone.

Word Count: 1,126.

A/N: This was written for my amazing friend, @spidweeb. HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU BEAUTIFUL BITCH, I HOPE YOU LOVE THIS AND I LOVE YOU LOTS. Here’s my gift to you, as it is my way of repaying you back from all of your help in the past, and to show how much your friendship means to me. <3

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anonymous asked:

I'm intending to move out of my mom's by fall, but I have two cats, and idk much about how to care for them on my own. I want to do it right, but I'm not very good with figuring out vet info or other care stuff for them.

Okay, so I’ve just spent the last two hours writing this post for you, in the hopes that you will change your mind. It’s way longer than I intended, but I tried to be thorough and comprehensive. Know that I have strong opinions about how to raise cats because they’re a huge part of my life. You might not agree with what I have to say, but this is what’s worked for me. I urge you to try different things and find out what works best for you! Before I get into it, let me talk about my cats…

I have a four year old orange tabby (Mason) and a sixteen year old tortoiseshell cat (Gretel) pictured in Appendix D. They have completely opposite personalities (Mason is super confident and talkative, Gretel is more standoffish) and they did NOT get along for the longest time. I’ve been with Gretel since she was three years old, so we’re very close and she’s very protective of me. After we moved into our current apartment, my boyfriend and I bought Mason to keep Gretel company. He was a rescue cat that had been previously returned after being adopted once, because he was “fresh”. He gave me the runaround when he first moved in, so I understand what it’s like to have a difficult cat.

It’s taken two years for them to both be comfortable with each other, but last week they fell asleep on the bed together (see Appendix D) and it was so beautiful. These cats have brought so much joy into my life, and I don’t know where I’d be without them. All these experiences, good and bad, have taught me that I never want to live without cats in my life.

Please feel free to direct message me if you want to talk about what taking care of cats on your own will mean for you. I am here for all your cat needs!

The Complete Guide to Living on Your Own (With Cats)

Phase 1: Your New Apartment

Before moving into your new home, follow these steps to make the process as comfortable as possible for your cats. You need to understand that they will be upset and act strange for the first few days, and this is absolutely normal and expected. Give them time- they’ll adjust.

1. Move the cats last. Move everything else you own into your new apartment, and get it set up as much as you can before moving your cats. Make sure there are plenty of places for them to hide that are easily accessible, like under your bed or in the back of a closet. Initially your cats will be very shell-shocked, and it will be easier for them to adjust if they smell familiar furniture and are able to find a secure place to hide.

2. Feliway. Buy yourself Feliway and spray it on walls and around doorways at your kitty’s eye level. I can’t tell you what it is or why it works (Science Side of Tumblr please explain), but your cats smell it and will feel much calmer. Feliway also helps when your cat starts peeing on everything, see Phase 2: Tantrums.

3. Moving your cats. If you have two cats, make sure that you move both cats at the same time. Even if they’re not the best of pals, a familiar face in a time of stress will soothe them. In the car ride they will cry, drool, pee, and sound like they’re dying. This is horrible to hear, but no that it’s only temporary. If you were in their situation you would act the same way! 

Hyperventilating. If you hear your cat start to hyperventilate, move them out of the carrier and comfort them immediately. I was transporting a cat with a high fever to the vet once and he started to do this, so I literally pulled over and drove with the cat in my lap the rest of the way. Once in my lap, he relaxed and started to breathe normally. The vet told me that I was lucky I did this, because the cat could’ve had a heart-attack. 

4. In the new apartment. Open your cat carrier and allow your cats to explore their new home at their own pace. Depending on your cat’s confidence, they might make a beeline for your bed and hide under it for the next two days. This is absolutely fine. Your cats may not want to eat or use the bathroom during these first few days, and this is normal. You often won’t eat if you’re stressed out, so understand that when they’re hungry, they’ll eat. If one of your cats is very upset, place their food and water bowl in the room they’re hiding in, so that they won’t feel threatened while they eat. 

5. Give it time. This could be less than a day or over a week, but your cat will come out from their hiding space of their own accord. They will walk around their new home and take everything in, and they’ll make themselves comfortable. Be there for your cat during this time, offering encouragement and love as they need it. It’s okay if they come out and retreat back to their safe hiding space, tell yourself that they will come out again.


Phase 2: Tantrums

Cats are mostly independent animals, but they do require lots of love and attention. Expect at least one or all of these tantrums to be thrown when you move them into your new home. Your cats are in a new environment that they are not wholly comfortable with, so it’s important to be patient and help them through this difficult time. 

1. Pooping. Your cat has an excellent sense of smell- they know where their litter box is. If they’re choosing to poop outside of the box, they are most likely looking for attention. Make sure that the poop has no blood in it (see Phase 4: Veterinarians + Common Diseases) and spend time making your cat feel special. This includes treats, playtime, combing, whatever they like best. 

2. Peeing A. Peeing is a form of scenting, which is essentially your cat being like “this is mine”. Your cats will probably do this a lot when you first move in, so make sure you have the proper cleaners ready (see Appendix A). Clean the spot thoroughly, and spray Feliway all over it. Your cat will smell the Feliway and think “Okay, I peed there already” and walk on. I’m not kidding. 

3. Peeing B. Peeing can also be an cry for attention, slightly different from scenting. Here’s how to tell the difference- does your cat only pee when you’re around? Typically this will only be done in areas that you frequent, like your bed or your couch. If so, then this is a cry for attention- see “Pooping”.

4. Peeing C. Is your cat declawed? I sure hope not, because that’s inhumane. But anyways, if it is… declawed cats require a different type of litter than the normal Tidy Cats brand. Call your local vet and consult with them about the best types of litter to use. 

5. Attacking. Is your cat attacking people/places/things? Get toys and play with them. Cats are evolved from fearsome predators, they need to be stimulated or they’ll get bored and start hunting whatever they can find. Here are some great toys to buy your cats so that they can “hunt” on their own, there’s something in there for every cat type.


Phase 3: A Place For Everyone

Jackson Galaxy is the Cat Guru, and you can find episodes of his show “My Cat From Hell” on Netflix. Whenever Jackson enters a home of a troublesome cat, he always looks at the environment in terms of how “cat-proof” it is. Your cat needs to have their own stuff, and whether this is a cardboard box or a $150 piece of cat furniture, it needs to be there. 

1. Bush vs. Tree dweller. I have a bush dweller and a tree dweller! Bush dwellers are the cats that like to hang out under tables and under beds, and they’re thought to be cats with less self-confidence. Tree dwellers like to climb and look down on their surroundings, reconnecting with their ancestors in the jungle. Cater your apartment based off of your cat’s needs. See Phase 6: Miscellaneous to learn more about different cat personalities. 

A word on bush dwellers. I was initially very upset to learn that Gretel is considered a low self-esteem cat. I kept trying to think of ways to make her more comfortable her surroundings, in the hopes that she would one day want to climb things and perch up high. Since getting Mason, she has slowly become a bush/tree dweller. She now climbs to the top rung of her cat furniture, and asks me to help her up on the kitchen table (it’s tall so she can’t jump). What I’m trying to say is that cats will gain confidence as they get more comfortable with their surroundings, and having a second and way more confident cat has helped her come into herself, even in her old age. So proud of my baby.

2. Cat furniture. I’m not going to lie to you, cat furniture is hella expensive. But it’s life-changing. Your cats recognize that its a piece of furniture for them, and they will run right over to it and begin exploring. If your cat is wary about climbing to the higher platforms or levels of the furniture, entice them with treats or a toy. The general rule is one piece of furniture per cat, because they will fight over them. If you have a very active cat, I’d recommend getting a multi-leveled piece. 

3. Cardboard boxes. The rumors are true- cats love cardboard boxes. Just open it up and leave it in the middle of the floor, and allow your cats to explore. If you’re not ready to drop $$$, place a warm blanket in the box and allow your cats to curl up. 

4. Windows. If you leave for work, leave your blinds open for your cats to peer out. If you don’t, they’ll peer out anyway and wreck your blinds. In the summer time it might seem like a nice idea to leave your windows partially open, but always make sure that your window screens are secure. If they’re not, add masking tape around the sides of the window until you can press on the screen and it doesn’t collapse.

5. Food and water. I like to keep a bowl of water in each room for the cats, and I refresh this daily. I like to add ice cubes in the summer so that the water isn’t that awful room temperature. If you feed your cats dry food, make sure that they’re drinking lots of water after eating. 

6. Litter box. Yeah, I know- it’s the worst part of being a cat owner. I keep mine in my hallway closet, and I leave the door partially open so that the cats can get in and out as they please. I’ve seen people with litter boxes in their bathrooms, their hallways, behind chairs in their living room, etc. The general rule is to have one more litter box than there is cat. I’m sorry, that’s crazy talk. I have a one bedroom apartment and I’m not having three litter boxes. One has worked fine for my babies, I just have to be vigilant about cleaning it. 

As far as choosing a cat litter brand, most cats are not picky. Some, however, are. Tidy Cats is expensive so I use whatever is on sale at CVS. I prefer scented because I have the litter box right by my front door. Find what works for you, but listen to your cat’s needs. 

Be wary of any brand of “lightweight” cat litter other than Tidy Cats. One time I bought Stop & Shop’s “Companion” lightweight litter and it hardened and stuck to the bottom of my litter box and I literally had to rehydrate it to remove it. DISGUSTING. 

7. Wall furniture. If you don’t have a lot of room on the floor of your apartment, consider putting up wall furniture for your cat. This can be anything from an expensive piece like this, or a simple wooden board for your cats to walk on. 

8. The floor is lava. Confident cats like to be up high on tables, window sills, cat furniture, etc. This is because back in their ancestral days, they had to peer down from the treetops to hunt their prey. Allow your cat this luxury, and try not to freak out if they walk on your kitchen counters or sit on your dining room table. Your cat is programmed to do this, the fact that your cat wants to be up high is a sign of confidence, a sign that your cat is comfortable with their surroundings. 


Phase 4: Veterinarians + Common Diseases

Your cat’s health is so important! There are lots of things you can do to maintain your cat’s health on your own (see Appendix B), but know that you will need to take one or both of your cats to the vet sometime this year. Remember to consult medical professionals if your cat is visibly ill. I am not a medical professional, but here are some of the things I’ve dealt with as a cat owner.

1. Hospitals vs. Doctors. My biggest expense as a cat owner is taking my babies to the vet. I have a Veterinary Hospital literally two minutes from my home, and Gretel hates the car so much that I always just take her there to get her to calm down. In general, hospitals are WAY more expensive than regular vet’s offices. Like, I’m talking over $100 difference. The expense is worth it for me, but it might not be for you. Find your closest vet office and put their number into your phone ASAP.

2. Making an appointment. If your cat is having a crisis, you can call during normal business hours and bring your cat in right then and there, but it’s going to cost you extra money. If your cat is not in imminent danger, call and make an appointment for the next day.

Theoretically, you’re supposed to bring your cat(s) or yearly check-ups and make sure they get all their vet shots. I’m gonna level with you- I don’t do this. I wish I could afford to do it, but I live paycheck to paycheck and can’t. You need to be able to take care of yourself, so if you’re poor like me, I’d advise saving vet visits for emergencies only. 

3. Vet insurance. Obviously- I do not have vet insurance. This means that I pay for all my vet visits out of pocket, and vet offices do not allow you to pay in installments, you have to pay all at once. My downstairs neighbor once had her cat held by a vet’s office because she didn’t have the money to pay for the vet bills. She had to get an emergency loan from her bank to be able to pay and get her cat released. Yikes. The one person I do know with pet insurance says that it saves her about 75% of her vet bill, but she’s a grown ass woman with a house. It’s okay if you don’t have vet insurance, there are still things you can do to improve your cat’s quality of life for reasonably cheap (See Appendix B).

3. Flea medication. Flea medication can be expensive, especially if you have two cats. Unfortunately, Advantage is the only medication that I have found effective. I’ve tried several different knock off brands, and while they worked, they didn’t last nearly as long as Advantage. I don’t worry about fleas that much in the winter, but I put it on my cats during the summer because there are lots of stray cats where I live.

4. Vomit. An occasional puke pile is nothing to be concerned about. There are lots of reasons why cats throw up, but 99% of them are digestion related. The worst part of puke is having to clean it up. As disgusting as it may be, the best way to clean up puke is to allow it to dry and to then clean it (see Appendix A). Lots of cats have food allergies (Mason, for example), so if your cat is throwing up multiple times in a week, change their diet (see Phase 5: Cat food).  If your cat throws up blood, take them to the vet immediately. 

5. Feline Respiratory Virus. Cats do not get colds like humans do, so be very wary if your cat has a runny nose, watery eye discharge, is sneezing or acting lethargic. These infections can kill cats if left untreated. If your cat is showing these symptoms, take them to the vet immediately. The vet will prescribe antibiotics that you will have to give your cat, and your cat should be feeling better within 24 hours. Once a cat gets an FRV, they are more susceptible to it. Cats can infect other cats, so keep your cats separated and give them separate food and water until your infected cat is visibly better. 

6. Bloody poop. Bloody poop (while disgusting) does not always signify illness. Sometimes it means that your cat is having trouble digesting, but other times it means that your cat has worms. Keep an eye on your cat’s poop, and if it’s still bloody after two additional days, take them to the vet and bring a sample of the poop with you. This stool sample will be tested by your vet, and if you don’t have one they will send you home and wait for you acquire one before testing anything.

7. Lumps. My cat Gretel currently has a lump on her face. I noticed it a couple months ago and took her to the vet. If your cat gets a lump suddenly, see if you can move the lump around with your fingers. If the lump feels solid and causes your cat pain, make an appointment ASAP. Gretel’s lump moves around freely and doesn’t cause her pain at all, so my vet told me not to worry about it. Cats grow non-cancerous tumors on their faces and bodies, as well as excesses of fatty tissue that cause bumps. Feeling a bump does not guarantee that your cat’s life is in danger.

8. Bottom line. Wondering if something is wrong with your cat? Ask yourself this simple question- Is your cat eating and drinking water? If your cat is not eating or drinking water, then something is wrong. Make an appointment and take them to the vet.


Phase 5: Cat Food

Spend some time researching different brands before deciding what to feed your cat. Here are some guidelines to help you.

1. Wet food vs. Dry food. It’s a scientifically acknowledged fact that wet food is much better for your cats than dry food. Unfortunately canned food can be up to three times as expensive per pound as dry food, and I can’t afford that on my budget. If you feed dry food, make sure that your cat is properly hydrated and drinking lots of water after they eat.

2. Junk food vs. Health food. Some cats are finicky eaters, mine are not. They do not care what type of food it is, they’re just happy to eat it. Meow Mix is super inexpensive and filling for cats, but it’s not healthy. It’s essentially like eating McDonalds every day. As a young adult, you probably can’t afford to spend large quantities of money on cat food. So compromise. Buy a bag of high quality “healthy” cat food, and a bag of cheap cat food, and give your cats a mixture of this.

3. Grain intolerance. Allergies are a real thing with cats. If your cat is having a hard time keeping food down, switch them to a grain free diet. I buy Rachel Ray cat food off of Amazon because Mason has a delicate stomach.

4. Proteins. Switch up the proteins in the food you’re feeding your cats. Spend a few months with salmon, then switch to chicken, then back to salmon, etc. I don’t remember why, but studies were done and this proved to be more healthy for cats.

5. How much food? Current studies say that cats should be feed about a half a cup of cat food per day. PER DAY. Cats also should have definitive feeding times, and should not be allowed to “graze” or eat all day. I feed my cats a cup of food in the morning (2 cats, half a cup each) and that’s all they get. One of the most common problems that cat owners have is over-feeding. 

6. Fast eaters. Mason has this problem where he gobbles down food super fast (he doesn’t even chew it half the time) and then throws up a few minutes later. You can buy special plates online that force cats to eat slowly like this one

7. What not to feed them. Check out this link. Also if your cat accidentally drinks antifreeze give them alcohol

8. Changing food. Remember that you can’t just feed your cat one food one day and a different food the next day. If you do, they’ll throw up. If you need to switch your cat’s food, do it gradually. Here’s how:

  • First day of switch: 95% old food, 5% new food
  • Second day: 75% old food, 25% new food
  • Third day: 75% old food, 25% new food
  • Fourth day: 50% of both foods
  • Fifth day: 50% of both foods
  • Sixth day: 25% old food, 75% new food
  • Seventh day: 25% old food, 75% new food
  • Eighth day: 5% old food, 95% new food
  • Ninth day: 5% old food, 95% new food 
  • 10th day: 100% new food!


Phase 6: Miscellaneous 

1. Cat types. I’m a big believer in the ASPCA feline-alities. ASPCA employees essentially give cats a personality test to see how they perform under stress. They have something wonderful to say about even the shyest of cats, it really puts everything in perspective. Check it out here. Points if you can guess my cat’s personality types based off what I’ve written here.

2. Bathing. Generally speaking, cats and water do not mix. I don’t bathe my cats because they don’t really get gross enough to require bathing. The one time I did try to bathe Gretel was an absolute disaster, so barring her overcoming her fear of water, I’m never going to do it again. She’s old and sleeps next to my head every night, so sometimes I have to help her clean up a bit. If your cat steps in poop or dirt or whatever, use baby wipes. 

3. “My Cat Doesn’t Like to Play”. Bullshit. All cats like to play, you just haven’t found the right toy. Mason responds to strings that are waved in circles above his head, squeaky toys, and things that are thrown so that he can run and “catch” his prey. Gretel likes crinkly things like candy wrappers, and will only chase a string if it’s dragged on the ground. Mess around and figure out what makes your cat tick. After playing your cat will:

  • Have a snack
  • Clean themselves
  • Take a nap

4. Reprimanding cats. I found a great post on Tumblr a year ago explaining this phenomenon, but I currently can’t find it, so I’m going to paraphrase. Essentially, cats don’t have great short-term memory, so you have to be careful when yelling at them. If your cat pees on your couch, and you don’t discover it until three hours later, yelling at your cat will accomplish absolutely nothing. They won’t understand why you’re upset, and they won’t understand what they did was wrong. You have to reprimand your cat’s either while they’re in the act of being naughty (i.e, peeing on the couch) or directly afterwards. 


Appendices 

Appendix A. Cleaners

  • Carpet cleaner (I recommend Resolve)
  • Hardwood floor cleaner (I recommend Bona)
  • Plastic gloves (I recommend whatever is cheapest)
  • Bleach (or a tile cleaner you feel more comfortable with)

 Appendix B. Caring for your cat.

  • Feliway
  • Cat lax (for those with hairballs)
  • Flea medication (you can buy Advantage in bulk on Amazon)
  • Brush (brushing decreases the risk of hairballs, fleas, and your clothes looking like shit. It can also be a way to bond with your cat)
  • Toys (get an assortment like this one)
  • Supplements (if you have an old cat, check out elder cat supplements on Amazon)
  • Ear cleansers like Epiklean (Did you know that you’re supposed to clean your cat’s ears every month? I didn’t! Gretel had an ear infection because her ears hadn’t been cleaned in 15 years)
  • Baby wipes (Gretel is very old, and sometimes she has a poopy butt. I recommend baby wipes for elder cats)
  • Multi-purpose treats (buy treats that are beneficial for your cat’s health, like treats with calcium or treats that help with hairballs)

Appendix C. Cat behavior.

Appendix D. Mason and Gretel

Praying

Requested By: @jasssra

Hey, your writing is amazing! I was wondering if you can write a Peter Parker imagine where he is dating Starks daughter and they’ve been together for a while but he then cheats on her with Michele and it breaks her heart. Thanks! :)

Like usual, I have a song to go with the imagine, so if you’d like to listen click here

Also the song influenced the title of the imagine.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Description: You and Peter met when he was introduced into the Avengers, you both started hanging out a lot and then you started dating. Tony didn’t like the idea of you dating him, but eventually approved, but said there would be consequences if he broke your heart. Something he never thought he’d have to do.

Warnings: It’s just really sad and emotional

Word Count: 2,919

A/N: Okay I’m not gonna lie but my hands were full on shaking the entire time I was writing this because I got so into it?? I was getting super emotional and angry while writing and listening to Ke$ha’s new song Praying. Also, can we just talk about her new song though? There is so much emotion and power in it and I genuinely love it so much. This might be why I put so much emotion into this or because I’ve kinda gone through a relationship like this so I know how it feels in a way?? I dunno, read at your own risk because you will be hit with strong feels.

“Everyone, I would like to introduce a new member to the team, this is Peter Parker, aka the Spider-Man.” Tony smiled proudly, patting Peter on the back who looked nervous as hell.

“H-Hey everyone.” He waved awkwardly, making everyone chuckle at his hesitance.

“Well don’t just stand here, go mingle.” Tony motioned for him to go start up conversations with Steve and Natasha, while he went to talk to Wanda and Clint.

“So how old are you kid?” Steve smiled, observing his features, he looked kind of young to be on the team.

“I- uh- I’m fifteen.” Peter stammered, shifting his weight on his legs awkwardly, he hated that he couldn’t talk normally.

“Stark says you’re the Spider-Man?” Natasha smiled, looking at Peter who nodded slightly.

“Y-Yeah I am.” He gave a slight smile, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously.

“Hey, it will be okay, I know everything is new at first and a bit frightening especially for how young you are, but trust me, you’re going to fit in nicely.” Steve smiled, patting Peter on the shoulder, before disappearing into another room with Natasha.

Peter stood there awkwardly, he didn’t know where to go, or where he was even allowed to go.

He decided to go look for Tony, but bumped into someone right as he turned around.

“Ah, -Shit I’m so sorry I-” Peter stammered, his eyes widening seeing you standing in front of him.

“It’s cool, I always run into people somehow.” You laughed, shrugging your shoulders before moving around him.

Peter stared at you, his expression showing clear confusion written all over it.

You opened the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water, feeling his eyes burning holes into your back.

“Is there a reason you’re staring at me newbie?” You spoke opening the bottle without even looking at him.

“I uh- I mean- How did you- Uhm..” Peter stuttered, mentally face palming himself for being an idiot.

“I’m just messing with you.” You laughed, turning around to see his face flushed with embarrassment.

“Y-Yeah, right.” Peter nodded, trying to act unphased, but you and him both knew he couldn’t hide anything.

“What’s your name?” You asked, propping yourself up on the counter, swinging your legs back n’ forth.

“P-Parker Peter, -I mean, P-Peter Parker. Peter Parker.” He stuttered, making you laugh quietly, before he clearly managed to say his name.

He gave you a nervous smile, which you returned with a smile back.

You jumped off the counter, walking up to him.

“Y/N, Y/N Stark.” You grinned, patting his cheek before walking out of the kitchen, leaving a wide-eyed Peter.

Weeks after being introduced to the Avengers, Peter started fitting in really well, you even started hanging out with him more, doing homework together or just sitting outside, watching the sky change from day to night.

It was peaceful, something you craved to have, mainly since your life was far from normal.

“Y/N, do you ever wonder what’s out there?” Peter asked you one night, you two were sitting out on the balcony, staring up at the night sky, stars twinkling before you.

“I used to, but my dad blew it up.” You laughed, turning to look at Peter who’s eyes were wide with shock.

You laughed even more once you told him the entire story, of how your dad and the Avengers protected New York from Loki and his army of space aliens, and how he sent a nuke into outer space and blew up the alien ship.

Peter’s face was priceless after that, he told you how he got his powers, and how he could stop a bus with his own bare hands.

You two bonded a lot that night, you both kept growing closer and closer.

A few months had gone by and you were walking into your dads office, you were going to break the news you and Peter had started dating.

“Hey dad, you got a minute?” You smiled, peaking inside the room, seeing him smile and wave you in.

“Sure thing kiddo, what’s up?” Tony smiled, but it slowly faltered, seeing your anxious expression.

“I uh- I have to tell you something..” You twiddled with your hands nervously, feeling his intense stare on you.

“Peter and I.. We’re kind of dating now? But it’s okay dad, he’s really sweet and I know he wouldn’t hurt me.” You gave a small smile, seeing your dads face become serious.

“Y/N, he’s a teenaged boy, they’re unpredictable, I should know, I was one years ago.” Tony sighed, rubbing his face with his hands.

“I don’t like the fact you two are dating, but give me some time to get used to it okay?” He saw your eyes light up a bit, making him give you a small smile.

“Thanks dad.” You replied weakly, turning to leave, but he put his hand up in a stopping matter.

“But if he does break your heart, there will be consequences.” Tony spoke sternly, making you nod rapidly.

“I know, thank you.” You smiled, before leaving his office, leaving Tony to think over everything.

Weeks passed, soon months, then a year, and you and Peter couldn’t have been happier.

You two were what they called in school “couple goals” which made you laugh every time you heard someone say you and Peter were.

Everything was great, you felt like a normal person in high school, with high school friends.

You were walking to lunch with Liz, you had been helping her with homecoming decorations.

“So, can you come over later to go over a few things for homecoming?” Liz asked you, looping her arm within yours.

“Of course.” You replied, looking around the hallway before entering the cafeteria.

You were talking to Liz, before you noticed how she was staring at something else.

“Y/N, I think we should go do some homecoming prep work.” She tried to turn you around but you refused, but you wished you would have listened.

There sat Ned, Peter and Michelle, at your lunch table, but Peter and Michelle were holding hands, laughing over a stupid joke.

And then it happened, the thing that broke your heart.

They kissed.

Your mouth dropped open, you were stunned, how could the sweet innocent boy you met over a year ago do this to you?

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you refused to let them spill.

You felt your breathing start to become rapid, the amount of emotions rushing through you was too much to control.

You walked over to the table, acting as if you hadn’t seen anything, sitting down next to Ned.

“Hey Y/N.” Peter smiled, but you didn’t return the friendly gesture.

“Are you alright Y/N?” Michelle asked, seeing your stiff posture.

“I will be.” You replied angrily, grabbing Peter’s drink, before dumping it on his head.

He sat there baffled, before looking up at you and seeing your face flushed, eyes red.

“If you were going to cheat on me, the least you could have done was break up with me, I would of understood.” You choked out, before grabbing Ned’s drink and dumping it on Peter’s head again.

“I never want to speak to you again.” You glared at him, before backing away from the table.

“Y/N, wait! Please! I can explain!” Peter ran after you, catching your arm.

Don’t touch me!” You yelled, making people look over at you both.

“You betrayed me, how could you?” You shouted, his shoulders slumping, avoiding your eyes.

“You’re an asshole Peter Parker.” You bit your lip, trying to get it to stop quivering.

“Y/N, please..” Peter pleaded, looking up at you through his wet hair.

You shook your head, a few tears slipping down your cheeks.

“Never speak to me again, in fact, I never want to see you again Peter.” You backed away from him, Liz wrapping her arms around you before dragging you off.

She gave Peter a look over her shoulder, which crushed Peter even more, he really screwed up.

He turned around, but noticed everyone was looking at him in pure shock and anger.

“Nice going Penis Parker!” Flash shouted, which made everyone else agree with him.

This was the longest day of Peter’s life.

Back at the Avengers headquarters, you rushed into the building, slamming the door behind you.

“Whoa hey what’s wrong Y/N?” Steve stood up, glancing at Natasha who looked equally as concerned.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks, you slowly looked up at the two, their expressions changing from concern to anger.

“H-He cheated on me.” You spoke in a whisper, your voice wavering as you stood there, your heart crumbling even more.

“No he didn’t, there’s no way.” Natasha shook her head in disbelief, looking at Steve who looked pissed as hell.

Steve pulled you into a hug, you let out a few sobs, before going to your room.

You sat there on your bed, trying to figure out what you should do first, but a knock on your door pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Hey kiddo..” Tony walked in, his heart breaking at the sight of you.

“Hey dad.” You smiled weakly, wiping your cheeks from the tears.

Tony walked over to you, pulling you into a side hug, and before you knew it, you were breaking down, letting out every emotion you had been bottling up.

Tony hated this feeling, he hated seeing you so broken, and he was one to keep his word, there would be consequences.

You soon had found out Tony had taken Peter’s Spider-Man suit from him, he told Peter he had wanted him to be better, and that if he was nothing without the suit then he just shouldn’t have it.

A part of you was sad for him, but at the same time you didn’t have a single care in the world.

Oh sometimes I pray for you at night,

Someday, maybe you’ll see the light.

A few weeks had gone by since your breakup with Peter, you had gotten rid of about everything he had given you, except a box of his belongings that you needed to deliver.

You hadn’t seen him since that day in the cafeteria, so you knew it was going to be a bit awkward.

Tony had kicked him out of the Avengers building, so you had to travel to his apartment.

You knocked on his door, awkwardly waiting for someone to answer.

When Peter opened the door, seeing you was a shock, he wasn’t expecting that at all.

“Y/N.” He breathed out, making your eyes snap up to meet his.

“I have the rest of your stuff.” You handed him the box, then crossed your arms.

“Uh, um, thanks.” Peter mumbled, setting the box on the ground.

“Well, bye.” You glanced at him one more time before walking down the hallway, only to be stopped by him.

“Y/N, please let me explain.” Peter pleaded once again, making you stop and turn around.

“No let me.” You glared at him, making his eyes widen a bit.

You almost had me fooled, but after everything you’ve done, I can thank you for how strong I have become.” You ran your fingers through your hair, trying to choose your words carefully.

“Y/N, I never meant to hurt you.” Peter tried to intervene but you held your hand up.

You put me through hell, I had to learn how to fight for myself, and we both know all the truth I could tell, I’ll just say this is I wish you farewell.” You gave a small smile, before turning around and walking down the hallway.

There was no way you were going to give into his bullshit speech about how he messed up and wished he never did what he did.

Peter watched you walk away from him, his heart breaking into pieces.

But he wasn’t going to give up without a fight.

You were sitting at the table in the kitchen, listening to your music.

I hope you’re somewhere prayin’, prayin’,

I hope your soul is changin’, changin’,

I hope you find your peace,

Falling on your knees, prayin’.

You couldn’t help but hum along to the words, you felt connected to the song in so many ways.

Steve and Natasha were in the living room, hearing you sing along to the song, their hearts breaking a bit.

Peter had really hurt you, and it was their job also to protect you.

You were singing along to the song when someone walked up to you, you glanced up only to be met by Peter.

“Y/N, please just let me talk to you.” Peter begged, making you roll your eyes in annoyance.

Can’t he just leave you alone?

“What’s there to talk about? You cheated on me, the end.” You stated bluntly, making Peter cringe.

“Nothing really happened between Michelle and I, it was a dare.” Peter tried to explain, but you were already over it.

I’m proud of who I am, I don’t need you, I found strength I’ve never known.” You sighed, looking at Peter who was still stunned.

“Peter, you need to leave.” You motioned towards the door, he nodded slowly, knowing it was no use, he had really messed up the best thing in his life.

You.

Oh, some say, in life, you’re gonna get what you give,

But some things only God can forgive,

I hope you’re somewhere prayin’, prayin’,

I hope your soul is changin’, changin’,

I hope you find your peace,

Falling on your knees,

Prayin.’

3 weeks early

requested: can you also do imagine where y/n is married to shawn and she’s pregnant and she’s on tour with him and before every concert she goes out to fans to give them some tickets 😊 and it’s cute and fluffy ☺ thanks, love you 💖

okay i changed this one just a little bit, it’s not that much but she’s just not on tour with him

NOT LYING I LOVE THIS SO MUCH THE PERSON WHO REQUESTED THIS NEEDS TO REQUEST MORE OFTEN BC I LOVE UR IDEAS TY OKAY CARRY ON WITH READING


-

“guys where’s y/n?” the voice of your probably worried husband could be heard from his dressing room even though he was on the stage doing soundcheck for the show later on. he got no response from his team around him, causing him to worry more. “you left her alone? you guys can’t do that she’s 8 months pregnant!”

you chuckled, knowing he was going to send someone to the dressing room so you could sit in the audience and watch him or something. just so he can see you at all times. ever since you found out you were pregnant, shawn has been almost extra protective. you were surprised you were even allowed at tonight’s show. when you were in the early stages of your pregnancy, you were still allowed to tour with him and go to his shows but once you reached the 6 month mark, you were banned. you had managed to convince him to let you come tonight since it was a show in your hometown, but after a few weeks and a few deals made, he finally let you come. of course, he tried his best to make sure you were never alone just in case you went into labour early which was definitely a possibility. another reason he let you come to tonight’s show was because his family was also going to be attending, and you could stay with them while he was
performing.

“somebody go find-” shawn yelled, walking into his dressing room. “oh you’re here. okay never mind everyone i found her!” he came over to your spot on the leather couch, “how are you two?”

“i’m good,” you said, rubbing your giant belly. “she’s good too. she loves the music, she’s been dancing around in there all day.”

“that’s my girl.” shawn smiled, changing into a black short sleeved dress shirt for his q&a that started in about 45 minutes. “she’s gonna be a dancer one day.”

“you mismatched like all the buttons shawn.” you laughed,
nothing that all the buttons he just did were all in the wrong places. “how do you even do that?” slowly, you managed to get up from the couch to help him redo the buttons. you got as close as your stomach would allow to undo all the buttons as shawn just smirked while watching you intently.

“i’m having some sort of déjà vu,” he said. “last time you did this, that happened.” he pointed to your baby bump.

you rolled your eyes, swatting the side of his arm then quickly doing up the buttons. “you’re an idiot.”

“hey,” he raised his hands up in defence. “i’m just saying the truth.”

“all fixed,” you announced, lighting patting his chest. “what would you do without me?”

he shrugged, taking some food from the table that was set up in every one of his dressing rooms. “i wouldn’t be living y/n, my fans would make fun of me too much for not knowing how to do buttons.”

you laughed, taking a peek out the window to see a giant crowd of fans in the distance. you remembered going out into those crowds when you toured with shawn, you had a tradition of giving away tickets to a few fans who had none. of course, you kept it a secret because you didn’t want people to get greedy but you missed doing that.

“hey shawn?” you called, closing the curtains so fans couldn’t look in. you stood in front of his spot on the couch, wrapping your arms around his neck. he looked up at you, his hands grabbing your sides. “did i ever tell you how insanely attractive you are?” you smiled. you knew that if you wanted him to agree, you would have to do some kissing up.

“you want something don’t you?” he narrowed his eyes, not being able to keep a straight face.

“you don’t happen to have any extra tickets lying around do you?”

“y/n,” he sighed. “you can’t go out in that crowd. it’s too dangerous for you and the baby.”

“shawn i used to give away tickets all the time before! please, i’ll be fine i promise.” you begged. you wanted nothing more than to get some fresh air. after being in this stuffy dressing room all day, you were in desperate need.

“y/n, you could go into labour at anytime now! it’s way to dangerous and if i let you go out there and something happens i will never forgive myself.”

“nothing is going to happen shawn, i’ll be careful i promise. i really need some fresh air, i feel like i’m suffocating in here. if you’re really that scared, come with me.”

“if i come with you we’ll for sure get mobbed. i’ll get you some extra tickets.” he sighed, finally giving in because he knows you wouldn’t have stopped until he did. “but, you’re going out with security standing close by and i’m going to be watching. if i see anything that doesn’t look normal, you need to come in.”

you nodded, taking the tickets he handed you. some people would think shawn was being too demanding and overprotective but you know he’s just looking out for you and the baby.

“i’m not trying to be harsh baby,” he said, kissing your forehead. “i just want you to be safe and protected at all times. if anything were to happen at one of these shows i would never be able to live with myself.”

“i understand shawn, trust me. but i’m going to be okay out there, especially with everyone watching my every move. nothing is going to happen.”

“you could go into labour at anytime y/n, your due date isn’t that far away.” he said, cupping the side of your face with his spare hand.

you were due on april 21st and today’s date was april 2nd, meaning you were almost full term and the baby could come at any time but she would be early. you had the slightest feeling she would be late though, motherly instincts i guess.

“babies aren’t always born early shawn. she could come when she’s supposed to come.”

“y/n,” he chuckled. “how early were
you born?”

“5 weeks early,” you mumbled. “okay i see your point but still, i’m going to be fine you can watch from the window or something.”

he reluctantly handed you one more set of tickets and you were off. “be safe out there!” he called.

“i will!”

you met a security guard at one of the entrances of the arena who allowed you to leave, and another one followed you out. you were happy that he wasn’t right behind you, you needed some space. as soon as the door opened you were relieved that nobody was really paying attention to you. everyone was mostly occupied with their phones or talking to their friends as they waited to get into the arena.

as you walked around for a bit you heard a few mutters of “is that y/n?” or “guys look, it’s y/n.” but thankfully the crowd was calm and hadn’t erupted into screams yet.

you began to feel a large amount of pressure on your stomach which you were used to, but never this intense. you shrugged it off thinking it was just braxton hicks.

you noticed a young girl, probably about 6, and another older teenage girl who looked about 16, and their mom standing further away from the crowd. the two girls were wearing t-shirts with your husband’s face on it, but you had never seen those shirts before. they must not have been official merch shirts. the older girl smiled at you, and you decided to go over and talk to them for a bit.

“hi,” you smiled as you approached them.

“oh wow, hi y/n!” the older girl smiled. “would it be okay if we took a picture?”

you nodded, smiling for a picture with the girl and asking for her name. “i’m alessia, and this is alex.” she said, pointing to her little sister who was standing behind her mom.

“aless, who is this?” her mom stepped in. obviously noticing you were very pregnant, her eyes flickered to your ring finger, obviously looking to see if you were married.

“mom, this is y/n. she’s shawn’s wife, you know that already.” alessia stated like she should already know.

the girls’ mom asked you a few questions about your pregnancy which you were happy to answer. eventually the younger girl came from behind her mothers legs and asked for a picture.

“so,” you started. “are you guys coming to watch the show?”

obviously they just thought you were making casual conversation, but you knew what you were doing.

“no,” alessia sighed. “i wish.”

“i tired my hardest to get them tickets but they were so expensive and money is tight right now.” their mom said. “but they wanted to come stand outside for a bit just incase shawn came outside.”

you sighed, you suggest shawn come outside but you understood why he couldn’t.

“well,” you smiled. “i happen to have some extra tickets if you three would like?”

the two girls nodded eagerly, looking at their mother for permission.

“we could ask you to do this,” she said, shaking her head.

“please,” you handed her three front row tickets. “it’s my gift. take them.” she took the tickets, all three of them thanking you many times.

another sharp pain ran through your body although this time it was more noticeable.

“are you okay?” alessia asked, putting her hand on your arm.

“yeah,” you nodded. “i’m okay. she’s just kicking.” you lied. “anyways, i should probably get going but it was nice meeting you guys. have fun later!”

you met a few more fans, giving them tickets and making them promise they wouldn’t say a word about it. you forgot to tell the first family not to say anything, you really hoped they wouldn’t. as for the pains, they didn’t fade away. in fact, they were getting more intense but you didn’t want to go inside just yet. you were sure everything was fine. the fact that you were in pain was more noticeable now, almost everyone was asking if you were okay. you were sure shawn knew something was going on because at one point even your security guard asked if everything was okay.

you handed the last group of fans some tickets as you felt the sharpest pain followed by a trickle of water going down your leg.

“shit,” you mumbled, noticing that your dress was now soaked with water and there was a small puddle under you. the girls noticed what happened and were definitely all recording you but you didn’t care at this point. you were in too much pain to walk back into the arena and find shawn. you noticed a bunch of people from shawn’s team walking out of the main entrance, followed by your husband. he knew exactly where you were standing so he was at your side immediately. the rest of the team followed close behind, andrew was on the phone with who you hoped was 911 for an ambulance.

“y/n,” shawn said. putting his arm around your shoulder and his other hand on your stomach. “is everything okay?”

“yeah,” you breathed. you assumed you were having a contraction, which would explain the pains you’ve been having all day. “i’m in labour though.”

“what?” shawn practically yelled.

“my water broke,” you motioned to the puddle of water a few feet away. you managed to move a few feet in the time it took for shawn to find you.

“you’re joking.”

“shawn why would i joke about this?”

you felt another contraction hit, while shawn yelled at someone to call an ambulance even though it was already on the way. you could hear the sirens in the distance already.

“holy shit y/n this is really happening!” he exclaimed, kissing the side of your head.

“yeah, 3 weeks early.”

the ambulance pulled up next
to you after a few more
minutes. they helped you onto the gurney and shawn followed behind them.

“let’s go have a baby,” he said as the nurses closed the ambulance doors. “3 weeks early.”

Leave This Town Pt 6 (Mechanic!Bucky AU)

Characters: reader, Bucky, Natasha, Surprise Avenger! :)

Summary: Your dreams of kissing your small town life goodbye are about to come true when an unexpected detour leaves you stranded. Meeting the handsome local mechanic has you rethinking your plans. Perhaps happiness is less about where you’re headed and more about the people you meet along the way.

Song Inspiration: Sleep on the Floor by The Lumineers

Warnings: Angst and then a bit of fluff. Mentions of sex.

Word Count: 2.7k

Tags are at bottom (TAG LIST IS CLOSED I’M SORRY)

**This fic is for @bionic-buckyb ‘s 5K AU Writing Challenge**

A/N: Soooo yeah. Heh. Just keep in mind that this is not the end! At least 2 more parts coming. Here’s my ask box if you feel the need to share. ;) 

<<<Part Five   Part Six   Part Seven>>> 

Leave This Town Masterlist

Full Masterlist

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Originally posted by captaincentenarian

“You’re meant for more than this small town, too,” you declared louder this time, grasping his face in your hands.

“I don’t underst—“

“Come with me.”

_____________

“What did you just say?” Bucky asked, taking a step back.

“Bucky,” you began calmly, since you had blurted it out too quickly the first time. “I want you to come with me. To L.A.”

With a dazed look, he slipped from your grasp, taking halting steps backwards until he reached the bed and sat down. “Are you serious?” he asked, finally meeting your gaze.

“Yes.”

“You want me to come to L.A. and…do what?” he questioned.

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