walk a mile in my shoes and then open your mouth

anonymous asked:

86 and andreil??

86: “Perhaps you’ll take me out one day — or do I have to make an appointment?” (I combined this with a prompt from foxpaws10 from ages ago based on this post, and I kind of warped both of your prompts i hope this is still okaaay basically it’s doctor andrew and that’s all u need to know)

His morning is a string of disasters that begins with covering the ER in the Sunday rush of hypochondriac elderly and fussy children. It’s one long stretch of kicked over paint buckets, a mess you can’t ignore, splattering the walls and getting on his shoes.

Andrew chose surgery almost entirely for the distance of it, the sterility of a room with a slab of meat, a tray of knives, and a sickness he can actually cut out.

He’s a doctor because he can be, and patients sometimes like that he doesn’t speak a word to them, like silence equals genius.

He likes that there are some patients that come into the ER unconscious and leave the OR unconscious, and all he has is a problem and a ticking clock. He always solves the problem. He thinks maybe it’s because he is one.

The sinking ship of his Sunday in the emergency room goes from slippery to debilitating with one patient.

Two showy ER doctors with their lab coats off and their sleeves rolled up go into the private room they’ve cordoned off, and they both come out looking pinched in the face with their stethoscopes clenched in their fists.

“He’s a fucking disaster,” one of them says, leaning up against the information desk with his eyes still pulling back to the closed door of the room.

“I know. I thought, I dunno. That the news was exaggerating.”

Andrew tilts his head and listens without making any move to leave his post, filling out inane charts as illegibly as he can.

One of the residents chances a look at him and Andrew makes a point of catching him. The guy startles, then juts his chin.

“Maybe you’ll get along with him, Minyard. He’s as crazy as you.”

“You’ve mistaken the hospital for a playground,” Andrew says mildly. “Give me his chart.”

“What?”

“His chart.”

He looks at his friend, mouth slack, and then the one holding the chart holds it out like a dirty rag.

“He’s Boston’s starting striker,” he stage whispers. Andrew takes the clipboard and ignores him, scanning the details. “We’re not supposed to let any patients know.”

“That Neil Josten is causing a scene ten feet away from them?” he says, and the men titter uncomfortably. “Why should he get the luxury of privacy?”

“How did you—“

“The news is available to everyone, Bryant, you fuck.” He rounds the desk and makes for the closed and shuttered room, dropping the chart in the receptacle outside.

“He shouldn’t be allowed to practice,” someone says behind him, and then someone else, softer, scornful: “surgeons”.

Andrew wrings the door knob and finds himself abruptly face to face with the singular most swollen person he’s ever seen. He’s obviously bolting for it, his gown gaping at the neck and someone’s stolen shoes jammed on. Andrew scans the defiant face, the shock of red hair, the near invisible trail of blood from an incorrectly removed IV.

“Sit down.”

“No.”

Andrew watches Neil Josten— and it is him, one of the handful of strikers on Boston’s team and certainly the most newsworthy — size him up. His eyes run the same circuit Andrew’s would if he were looking to fight his way out: door, threat, surreptitiously behind him for a weapon, back again.

“I’ll drug you,” Andrew says simply. Neil’s good eye, the one that isn’t purpling, goes narrow.

“Are you allowed to say that?”

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two rotten apples [m] | pt. 3

credit: x.

❛❛we’re next-door neighbors and have hated each other since middle school but now we’re going to the same university how can we avoid the other person like the plague so there isn’t a crime scene— what do you mean you promised my mom you would keep an eye on me???? you fucking planned this❜❜ AU

COUNT → 21.489

GENRE → smut | angst

PAIRING → jungkook | reader

WARNINGS → dom and sub tones | threesome | oral sex | explicit language | penetration | public sex | grinding | graphic dirty talk | slight female masturbation | overstimulation

LINKS → 1 | 2 | 3COMING SOON


As the back of Jungkook’s head rested against the driver seat’s headrest, catching his breath, your glare hardened.

Once again, he’d fucked you and not cared whether you came or not. In fact, for the duration of his penis being in your vagina, he’d barely even touched you. And sadly, it hadn’t even occurred to you he’d used you once again until it was too late. Your clit didn’t matter to him apparently; your pleasure didn’t matter to him either. All that mattered was his dick. That’s all that ever fucking mattered.

After that weekend at the camping grounds where you actually came for once, you were expecting something better than whatever the fuck he called this performance. Your horny brain had quickly forgotten that it’d been your own fingers that got yourself off—not him—and those nights you spent in his tent were no exception. Why were you so surprised? This was Jungkook you were talking about—he would never fucking care about you or any part of you.

And that’s why this was the final fucking straw.

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anonymous asked:

Any quotes which make you shudder?

GLAD YOU ASKED:


“I’m sorry about the blood in your mouth. I wish it was mine.”
—Richard Siken from “Little Beast

“You happened to me. You were as deep down as I’ve ever been. You were inside me like my pulse.”
—Marilyn Hacker from “Nearly a Valediction”

“I don’t want to be around you. I don’t want to drink you in. I want to walk into the heart of you and never walk back out. “
—Nico Alvarado from “Tim Riggins Speaks of Waterfalls”

“Take me to your trees. Take me to your breakfasts, your sunsets, your bad dreams, your shoes, your nouns. Take me to your fingers.”
—Margaret Atwood from “The Good Bones”

“When I don’t touch you it’s a mistake in any life, in each place and forever.”
—Bob Hicok from “Other Lives and Dimensions and Finally a Love Poem

“When I haven’t been kissed in a long time, I create civil disturbances, then insult the cops who show up, till one of them grabs me by the collar and hurls me up against the squad car, so I can remember, at least for a moment, what it’s like to be touched.”
—Jeffrey McDaniel, "When a Man Hasn’t Been Kissed

“Kiss the mouth which tells you, here, here is the world. This mouth. This laughter. These temple bones.”
—Galway Kinnell from "Little Sleep’s Head Sprouting Hair in the Moonlight

“I will love you forever; whatever happens. Until I die and after I die, and when I find my way out of the land of the dead, I’ll drift about forever, all my atoms, until I find you again.”
—Phillip Pullman from "The Amber Spyglass

“I wanted to write ‘stay’ on your sides, surround your bed with oceans of salt. I hope he folds you into a fox, loves you like a splintered arrow, brandishes the kill of your lips. May the bouquet of your hips wither. May the wolves forget your name.”
—J. Bradley

“I love you. If you hadn’t existed I would have had to invent you.”
–Elaine Dundy from “The Dud Avocado

“And I’d choose you; in a hundred different lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.”
—Kiersten White

“The first time I asked you on a date, after you hung up, I held the air between our phones against my ear and whispered, ‘You will fall in love with me. Then, just months later, you will fall out. I will pretend the entire time that I don’t know it’s coming.’”
—Miles Walser

“I will come back from the dead for you.”
—Richard Siken from “You Are Jeff

“Do you want it? Do you want anything I have? Will you throw me to the ground like you mean it, reach inside and wrestle it out with your bare hands? If you love me, Henry, you don’t love me in a way I understand.”
—Richard Siken from "Wishbone”

“Here we are, at the place where I get to beg for it. Where I get to say ‘Please, for just one night, will you lay down next to me? We can leave our clothes on, we can stay all buttoned up?’ But we both know how it goes–– I say I want you inside me and you hold my head underwater. I say I want you inside me and you split me open with a knife.”
—Richard Siken from "Wishbone”

“Even when I’m dead, I’ll swim through the Earth like a mermaid of the soil, just to be next to your bones.”
—Jeffrey McDaniel
the legacy of b. knight

“It’s Ford’s first meal at the Haus, so everyone be on your best behaviors, alright?” Bitty bustled around the kitchen, a bowl of biscuit dough tucked under one arm as he gave the gravy on the stove a stir. Though it wasn’t an official Team Brunch, Bitty was pulling out all the stops for Ford: biscuits and gravy, fruit salad, hash browns, Canadian and normal bacon, as much coffee as could be brewed at one time… 

“We’re always on our best behavior,” Holster said with a yawn. He and Ransom were slumped together at the counter, lethargically slicing fruit at Bitty’s command. 

“Yeah, Bits, we’re upstanding gentlemen,” Ransom said, grabbing Holster’s hand before he sliced his own finger. Holster gave him a sheepish grin and reluctantly put his glasses on.  

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3,459 Miles ~ Jack Maynard

Characters: Reader X Jack Maynard X Conor Maynard X Jack’s ex

Word Count:  1043

Summary: Reader in love with Jack but lives in New York, Jack’s gf cheated on him. Conor calls the reader in concern and she flys out.

Requested: Yhas

Not my gif


Originally posted by conorshickey


It’s not every day you find yourself running through the airport with a duffle bag, shouting apologises at people whom bang bags with, but let’s be honest you wouldn’t be doing this if you only booked the flight only an hour ago.

Why are you running again?

Well this is why.

Two hours before…

You were editing a video you had done, where you talked about the meaning of some photos on your phone. Most of them were pictures of you and buttercream squad, you used to live in London around a year ago but you had to move to New York due to this amazing opportunity with bring out your own makeup.

You lived in an apartment with the love of your life, Jack Maynard. Unfortunately, he saw you as his best friend and had an amazing girlfriend called Lilly, however when you moved, Jack moved out and into an apartment with Josh and Conor. Luckily, your other best friend had moved with you and had left her boyfriend, Conor behind. She was actually out in London now visiting Conor and secretly looking for apartment for the both of you, your two year New York move had been cut to a year and you wanted to get back to London so bad.

You missed the buttercream squad so much that it was starting to drive you insane, you speak to them every day and actually FaceTime them every week but Jack had stopped texting/face timing you two months ago. It hurt like a bitch when Jack had ignored all your texts and declined your calls, the boys didn’t know what had happened either and cornered Jack into telling them only to get “Fuck off, it’s none of your business.”

It leads to a lot of shit on twitter too, your fans and Jack’s fan had noticed you guys hadn’t tweeted each other every day or had posted pictures of each other for throwback Thursday or had funny face competitions on Snapchat. The fans shipped you two together since he first appeared in your YouTube video you posted at 19, it did cause arguments for both you and Jack when you had got into a relationship.

Jack may never mention you in his YouTube videos anymore but you did, you just edited a photo of you and Jack laugh with mud and cream all over the two of you. That day was one weird ass day but you loved it.

Just as you were placing the photo on the video your phone rang and the older Maynard sibling ID showed up.

“Hmm what have I won to get a call Mr. Maynard.” You teased.

“Y/N.” Conor spoke.

“What? What’s happened? Is everyone okay?” You rambled into the phone in panic, Conor never called you by your name it was always pinkie or shorty; Your name means something had happened.

“Jack and Lilly broke up.”

You felt happiness build up inside you but it crashed down when you realised Conor sounded angry. “What happened?”

“You know he stopped speaking to you two months ago? Well turns out it’s because she had cheated on him. He has been getting drunk and staying in hotels when he was ‘seeing Lilly’, Y/N I’m worried about him. Please help me.” Conor pleaded.

“Pick me up from the airport tomorrow morning.” And with that you hung up and flung yourself off the bed, booking a flight, texting Conor what time to pick you up, packing a duffle bag, jumping in a cab and catching the flight.

Present time…

Running outside the aiport you noticed a sleepy Conor leaning against his car with Y/B/F/N standing next to him. Conor was the first one to notice you and walked slowly towards you opening his arms for you to run into.

No greetings were said, pulling out the hug you jumped in the car and watched Conor drive through the streets till you reached the Maynard/Pieter’s apartment. Conor nodded at you and you jumped out the car and run up the stairs to the apartment, pulling out the spare key the boys gave you before you left to New York you let yourself in.

The apartment was silent besides the sound of someone crying, Josh, Conor and Y/B/F/N had left the apartment to give you and Jack some time. Taking your shoes off, you walked towards Jack’s room and listened to the cries that were escaping his mouth.

Frowning you opened his door to see something that made you want to break into tears, Jack’s room was trashed, bottles of alcohol were on the floor, and Jacks shaking body was crashed onto his bed. You silently closed the floor and made your way to his bed, crawling onto it you grabbed Jack by his shoulder causing him to jump and turn to face you.

You stared at each other in silent before he tackled you into a hug, his head in your neck as his hold body shook with sobs. “Sh, I’m here. I’m here now.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Jack repeated into your neck, tightening his hold on you.

“Nothing to be sorry for, it’s okay Jack.” You whispered hands running in his hair.

“Don’t leave me, please Y/N. Don’t leave me.”

“Jack.” You spoke softly, Jack brought his head up staring at you. “I didn’t travel 3,459 miles just to leave you. I’m not leaving anytime soon; I’ll be here till you get sick of me. I promise you.”

Jack smiled at you with a look in his eyes you couldn’t make it, “Can we just lay here and cuddle?”

Nodding your head, you climbed into his bed with Jack. You lay on your back while Jack placed his arm over you and stuffed his head in the crook of your neck, smiling down at him you placed a hand in his hair playing with it.

“Get some sleep Jack, I’ll be here when you wake up.” You whispered kissing his head while he nodded.

You laid in silence running your hand through his hair, feeling your eye closing feeling sleep crash down on you. Just before you went into dreamland you heard Jack mutter something.

“Travelled 3,459 miles to make sure I was okay; I knew I loved her.”


Last imagine today…. aslo @purple-alien-monkey is this fluffy enough or shall I make another one ;)

Steamy Showers / Clay Jensen smut imagine

Steamy Showers

Clay Jensen x reader

Request: clay jensen smut where you’ve been teasing him all day at school w little touches and whispers that when you two are home later he can’t take it anymore.

A/N: First smut I’ve ever written so I hope it’s good! Decided to change locations a little bit, but it’s still the same idea J. Thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoy! (Oops, this got longer than expected… oh well.)

Warnings: smut, swearing

Word count: 1410


It was a few weeks after you and Clay had your first time together. It went pretty well but it had hurt a little for you. Clay felt so bad about hurting you that you hadn’t had sex again. But you were determined to change that. You had longed for Clay to have sex with you again, but you were too afraid to initiate it or ask for it.

Today was your weekly jog session together and you picked out a sexy sports outfit; short pink shorts, a pink sports bra and a see-through white top. You had it hanging in your closet for some time and you were too shy to actually wear it. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

You heard the doorbell ring and knew it was Clay. You quickly put your hair into a messy bun and ran downstairs to open the door.

“Hey, babe, ready to go?” Clay asked as he was checking his watch. He lifted his head to look at you and his mouth fell open a bit.

“I’m ready,” you smiled happily and closed the door behind you. “Shall we?”

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BTS Reactions

Requested by:


J Hope:
The 2-mile run he completed that morning got him panting as he trudges into his apartment, barely realising the extra pair of shoes that sat nicely by the door. He danced around the kitchen to the beat in his earpiece, taking a gulp of water before walking to his room. The sight that lay waiting for him when he opened his bathroom door got him stunned. There she was, taking a shower, soaping herself up.

“Damn,” he mutters to himself as he plucks out his earpiece. His tongue licks his lips in anticipation as he watches her hands roaming her own curves.

She gasps when she turns around to see him blatantly staring at her, “Hoseok! What are you doing! Get out!”

He chuckles at her attempts to cover herself up. “Mmm I think I need I a shower too,” he smirks as he locks the door.

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Rhythm of the Beat- Part 1

Based off a request by @thelittleredwhocould​ for gender swap Wincest.

Summary: Sam and Dean get trapped in a vault after being turned into women by an ancient Egyptian god. Because of course they did. There’s only one way to get free. Because of course there is.

Word Count: 2150ish

Warning: Wincest, gender swapping, smut

A/N: This one just happened. I’m not sorry. Hope you all enjoy it! Two more parts coming soon! XOXO


“Dean! You okay?”

“Yeah, I think so. Are you?”

It’s at the end of that second sentence that they both register the voices themselves and not just the words.

“Dude. You sound like…dude. Sam? You’re a fuckin’ girl.”

Sam tears his eyes away from Dean’s apparently female body to look down at his own.

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Downright Neighborly

Fandom: WWE/TNA

Pairing: Jeff Hardy/Female Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: I return almost wholly whole from the land of concussions and I offer you this…kayfabulous indulgence! Tagging the always-beloved @toxiicpop, the ever-enthusiastic @oraclegazes, the King Captain @hardcorewwetrash  (my thanks for not keelhauling me for the IRS thing, cap!), and new tagees @karaboomhower, @thephenomenonalkingofthebrogues and @superrezzy00 (not sure about these tags, work darn it!). Enjoy!


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Cherry Flavor

(Or read on ao3.)

“Hey, do you um…need a ride?” Connor looked up at the nervous, messy haired boy with a cast on his arm. He took a long sip of his cherry slushee and realized he’d reached the bottom of the cup. He slurped up the last of the artificial syrup and sighed.

“You’re Evan Hansen aren’t you?” He said, evading the question. He’d seen him gawking at his sister during jazz band concerts.

“And you’re Connor Murphy,” he replied. “It’s late.”

Connor was sitting on the curb, shivering in his thin hoodie. In hindsight he probably should have gotten a hot chocolate but he liked the way the cherry stained his mouth.

“Thanks Captain Obvious,” he sneered.

Evan seemed to shrink from him. “So you don’t need a ride or…?”

“Can we just go for a drive Hansen? I’m still kinda high and my parents are pissed off enough as it is.”

“I…um, sure,” he said. Connor got up.

“Do you want a slushee? I’ll buy you one.”

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Spider

pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

summary: you live across the hall from Captain America, but you never really talk to him. When you find a giant spider in the bathroom, that all changes. 

warnings: big spider

Friday had finally come to a close, and you were relieved to be able to take your shoes off by the front door of your apartment. The clock under the tv read that it was only 9:20 pm, so you decided to have a glass of wine before settling in bed. It didn’t take long for you to down the whole glass, especially since your day consisted of your boss making rude remarks and low-tipping customers. Your eyes began to droop, and you decided it was time to find your way under the sheets. But low and behold, the moment you were finally comfy your bladder decided it was party time. After a few curses, you got up from the little burrow you’d made in the bed. You flicked on the bathroom light, and squinted momentarily.

A giant black spot on the wall made you stop in your tracks. You grimaced as you recognized the spot to be a spider, and it seemed to be staring back at you with it’s many eyes. Putting a hand on your mouth, you attempted to prevent a scream from ringing out across the apartment complex.

Being an independant woman was something you were used to from living in the city for so long, but your nerves were shot as of late. There was no way you were getting close to that damn thing, not just because spiders are gross, but you didn’t know if it was venomous or how fast it would be. The idea of running to a neighbor seemed childish, however, your neighbor wasn’t just some random citizen of New York. You’d only seen him in the hall a few times, and he was nice enough to ask you how your day was going, and even bring you a few misplaced packages. Maybe he’d help you in this dire situation of getting that damn spider off the wall. Not only that, but he would probably get a kick out of it as well. After practically running out of the apartment you called home, you knocked on the door across the hall from yours.

A deep voice rumbled from behind the door with a slight accent, “Who is it?”

You coughed, trying to rid your voice of any shakiness, “It’s your neighbor, Y/n,” The man was silent behind the door, “I need some help with a slight emergency.” There was a few moments of silence, and then you heard the chain being dragged away from the lock behind your neighbors door. The man who opened the door had an unfamiliar face, and he squinted his eyes at you. You’d only ever seen Steve going into the apartment, so you were about to walk away in fear him not being home.

Then, he quickly yelled over his shoulder but still managed to keep his eyes on you, “Steve, some short girl is here!” You smiled at the light jab, since it was obvious he was playing around. While he stood in front of you waiting for Steve, he pulled his long brown hair into a loose bun.

Captain America came into view from one of the rooms down the hall, and the man with long hair moved out of the way, “Can I help you?” He looked down at you with worry, and you knew you were in good hands. Even with a look of concern on his face, Steve looked as handsome as could be.

Instead of explaining how stressful of a week you had, you cut straight to the point, “I know you don’t really know me, but I have a really big spider in my bathroom.” You pleaded, “Can you please kill it for me?” A pathetic smile lifted your cheeks. Who else could say they asked Captain America to kill a spider for them? But it’s not like you were being dramatic considering the arachnid was bigger than your fist.

Steve bit back a laugh and nodded his head, “Sure, show me the way.” He took a step out of his apartment, and then added, “Oh, and please call me Steve.” The man with long hair was right behind him the whole time Steve was speaking to you at the front door, and finally waved the two of you off as you walked back across the hall. The whole situation made you giggle, you’d never spoken to Steve before, but here you are asking him to kill a spider in your apartment. Walking into your apartment you suddenly realized that it was a hot mess, so you immediately jumped to apologize and tried to explain that you were barely ever home. Steve just laughed and said, “Don’t worry, Bucky makes more of a mess than you do.”

You pointed through your room, with a shaky grin, “Okay, the bathroom is to the left, and the spider should be on the wall straight ahead when you walk in.”

Steve took a few quick strides towards the bathroom, and not even a half of a minute later you heard the toilet flushing. He came back out of your room, and smiled as he entered the living room, “The threat is gone.” His hands rested at his hips.

With a little shake of your head, you sighed, “Thank you Steve, hopefully I can sleep tonight and then enjoy my day off Sunday from this crappy place.” You could tell Steve was trying to look you up and down with each nod of his head, so you simply explained that you were a waitress and that your boss had been a dick as of late.

“Maybe I’ll stop in one day, shake your boss up a little.” Steve charmingly smiled, “If you need anything else or want to go get coffee or something, here’s my number.” He grabbed a marker, and wrote on the mini whiteboard on your fridge. Your heart was pounding a million miles every second as he closed your apartment door on the way back to his own. It felt like you’d just been thrown for a loop, but for some reason you were undeniably excited.

This was only the beginning for you and Captain America.

✨ H.A.T.E  ✨


Peter Pan Imagine

Author: Joi A. Wade

Tagged: @tmrhollandkay

Requested: Yes,  Hi, can I get one where Pan & the reader are in HS and they don’t really get along but Pan always trys ti seduce her. Pan and the lost boys have a costume party and the reader dresses up as a sexy maid and Pan takes her to go to his room and smut.

Warnings: Swearing | smut | long | greaser!Pan | soc!reader

Summary: H.A.T.E = Having All These Emotions.

The word hate is a very well known word in the English language. Some say it’s rather strong, some say it’s something unnecessary to express. It’s avoidable; it’s easy to spread like a disease, it’s also just another four letter word that is shared among people. For this situation, it’s mainly between two.

Y/n L/n was one of the richest girls in town. 17 year old honors student, with a 4.0 average, and killer good looks next to her fabulous brain. Almost every girl wanted to be her friend, and for those who didn’t just bathed in their pool of, you guessed it, hatred.

Peter Pan was one of the baddest greasers in town. 18 going on 19, still a junior in high school, holding on to his 3.0 average for deal life (not really) and also killer good looks that could get any girl below his grade to swoon over him. 

The senior girls that he was supposed to be in the same grade with, didn’t want anything to do with him or his gang.

Including Y/n. 

But, that didn’t stop this greaser from flirting with her any chance he got. Every guy wanted nothing to do with him, thanks to his reputation, and for those who did? Good luck to them.

Y/n and Peter never got along since the day they met. The first day of high school, an awkward year for the both of them all started off with their orientation in the school’s gym. 

It was going fine, until a certain someone who was still on his childish side, decided to pull another certain someone’s skirt down right in front of everyone after the ceremony. Showing off her white, virgin panties. In front of every freshman. 

Just think about it.

Picture it in your head.

Prepubescent boys. E V E R Y W H E R E.  All witnessing the vulnerability of young Y/n in the start of the year.

“Why can’t you just grow up, you dumb hood!” 

“Maybe, I don’t want to grow up! Why can’t you just take a joke!”

“I hate you, Peter Pan! Till the day I die, you’re nothing but gum underneath my shoe!” 

“Right back atcha, princess.” 

And thus, the hatred grew from that day on to three years today. 

Now coming back to the present, on a Friday evening in October, we find our main characters to be sitting on opposite sides of their study hall classroom, waiting for the day to finally end and be free for the weekend. The class room was already divided into their own cliques, from Socs, to Greasers, to Middle class, you name it. Everyone was where they belonged. But, of course, this wasn’t just any day. It happened to be October 31, Halloween night. And guess who just so happens to be planing a stellar party, for all to those willing to come? I’ll give you one guess.

“So, as you all may know, tonight is the night where the dead roam the streets.” Peter starts, rubbing his hands together, as he scanned the classroom. “And I’m also sure you know I am cautious of your safety, so everyone is welcome to crash and have shelter at my place this Halloween night.”

Snickers are heard from the greaser side, partly of what Peter said, and the other being because of their passed out study hall teacher, drooling all over his desk and papers. With a roll of her eyes, Y/n responds.

“Why would anyone wanna go to your dump of a house? If I wanted to spend my Friday night with trash, I’d spend my hours standing in Wendy’s closet.”

Said girl starts to laugh at the insult, only to then realize she was just insulted. “Hey!”

Peter chuckles at the witty tongue he hates so much. Every time she opens her mouth, it’s an endless cycle of sarcasm and bitchiness. Leaning on a desk, he places his hands in his leather jacket, resting them just below his armpits.

“No one said you had to come, princess. I’m sure mommy and daddy don’t want you out past eight anyways. Wouldn’t want you damaging that pretty grade of yours, right next to that pretty face.”  Now the whole greaser side howled with laughter and ‘oohs’. Y/n scowls in anger, rolling her eyes yet again, ignoring his comment. “Aw, what’s the matter? Run out of things to say?”

“No. Just thought I’d give your brain a break, I mean, this is probably the most words I’ve ever heard you speak without stuttering like an idiot, or shrinking your vocabulary to one of a kindergartner’s. Tell me, grease, can you spell ‘damaging’?” Getting no response this time, Y/n only smirks, this time her side of the room laughing at his. “Just to humor you, because I guarantee no Socs are going if I’m not, I’ll come to your little party tonight.”

With a raise of his eyebrow, Peter licks his lips slowly, relaxing his hands and walking over to their side of the room. Two Socs that sat next to Y/n were quick to stand, blocking him from getting any closer. Having a silent stare down, Y/n places hands on their shoulders, smiling sweetly as she told them she could handle herself. Oh, the curve of her lips only made his blood boil. Not to mention how easily she could coax any man with just one curl of them, as they sat back down without protest.

“You sure a pretty little thing like you, can handle a party like mine? There are no rules, no limitations.”

“Ooh, big word, Pan,” He rolls his eyes at her comment, already bored with the conversation. “But, you’d be surprised what a ‘pretty little thing’, like me, can handle.”

“Care to give me an example, princess?” He asks, taking only a small step closer to her, his eyelids falling slightly as well as his voice. This sent chills through her body, but she’d rather die than let him see that it did. Never breaking eye contact, everyone around them waited for someone to make the next move. 

Until the bell rang. 

Everyone got up from their seats, the teacher practically falling out of his chair at the sudden wake up call, as the school day was finally over.

Inhaling sharply, Y/n drops eye contact first, taking her bag that Wendy held out for her, looking up at the tall boy one last time. “In your dreams, grease.”

“Rich girl.”

“Prick.”

“Bitch.”

“Oh, real mature.” She glares, turning with her chin high in the air as if she won that fight. With a slight shake of his head, he signals his gang that it was time to leave, heading out to maybe steal some beers and cigs on the way back to his house. While walking, the youngest of the group spoke up to his leader.

“Why’re you and her always fighting,” Henry asks. “She’s a real nice girl, why you gotta pick at her all the time, man?”

“Simple. We hate each other.” Peter shrugs, adjusting the collar of his jacket.

“Now y’all don’t, it’s obvious you wanna fuck each other. Just both of your prides are too big for one of you to go for it. It’s cliche, Pan. The rich girl wanting to be with the bad boy because her parents are against it. She wants you, she’s just making you work for it.” Tiger Lily nudges him with her elbow, while twirling her switch blade in the other hand.

“And what makes you so sure?”

“Tiger’s middle class, Pan, and yet she hangs with us all the time instead of them. Because…” Felix drew out, inquiring for Pan to finish his sentence for him.

“I ain’t stupid, I know what you mean. But, you’re different, Tiger Lily. You’re like one of the guys, it’s easy for you to adapt and be like us. But, Y/n? A whole different story.”

“Hm. Well, plus I’m a girl. I can see the signs of want from a mile away, and she is dripping for you.”

“Okay, now you’re just being weird.” Peter shoves her playfully, Henry shaking his head, not satisfied with his answer. “Look, tonight if she drops her attitude with me, then so will I. But, until then, I hate her fucking guts.” 

Meanwhile, on the richer side of town, Y/n wandered around the costume store, in a dilemma with ‘which outfit would be perfect’ for this said occasion. Not just any Halloween costume will do, she needed something that will really catch…a certain someone’s attention.

“No. No. No. God, this is a definite no. This is so stupid, how hard could it be to find a decent costume?” Y/n groans loudly, Wendy only giggling at her frustration.

“Well, you are looking on the day of Halloween. You’re a little late on getting decent, let alone anything at all. I’m just going as a cat; drawing whiskers on my face and buying this tail and cat ears. See? Simple and I don’t have to spend a lot.”

“Uh, you’re so cheap.”

Wendy glares at her head, grumbling to herself while her arms were crossed like a child would do. “At least I’m not trying to impress a greaser.”

“Excuse me? Who says I’m trying to impress that delinquent?”

“It’s so obvious! The sexual tension between you two is so suffocating, I can barely stand it any longer! One day I’m gonna get you drunk off your ass and lock you in a room with him-”

“[Gasp] This is perfect!” She exclaims, finally finding an outfit she likes in the very back of a rack. “Sexy maid! It’s ironic because his place will most likely be filthy. Now what were you saying about a room and ass or something?”

Sighing heavily, Wendy just grabs Y/n’s arm, dragging her to the register. 

“You’re so oblivious, it hurts.”

The sun was finally setting, and the street lights had finally cut on. Halloween night was something the troublemakers all over the town looked forward to, that and Pan’s parties. Halloween and end of the year parties were his specialties, filled with one night stands, hangovers, and wild memories to tell your grand-babies someday. Once the clock hit 10, everyone was piling into Peter’s place, for those who don’t get to be inside due to space, had most of the party outside, the backyard or on his neighbors lawn instead. Luckily where he lived, everyone was cool with everyone on the block, so there were no worries on horny teenagers grinding on each other on their front lawn. As long as it stopped by 2 AM.

Y/n and her large group of Socs make there way inside, all dressed up in their costumes, ready to have a good time. Readjusting the tight costume that felt like it was covering not a damn thing, Y/n took a look around. The music was blasting, the room already reeking of alcohol, and bodies upon bodies were pressed up against one another. Wendy tugs on her arm, pointing to the dance floor.

“Let’s go dance, this is my song!”

“I am not dancing up on greaser trash!” She shouts over the music, “You go ahead, find a guy, hook up, I don’t care! I’m going to get a drink!”

Giving her a thumbs up in response, Wendy disappears into the crowd. Y/n finally makes her way over to the drink table, filling her red cup with what she suspected to be just beer. Taking a huge gulp of the liquid, the burning in her throat confirmed her suspicion. It went down horribly the first time, but after her third cup, she was starting to loosen up and bob to the beat of the song.

Swaying her hips from side to side, she barely noticed a mixed group of middle class and greaser boys staring in her direction. One being bold enough to approach her came up from behind her, pressing his front to her back, helping her sway to the motion a little better. Turning her head to see who it was, she sneered.

“Get your hands off me.” 

“Aw come on, baby, let’s just have a little fun~”

“I’ll give you to the count of three. Last warning.” 

The stranger leans in to whisper in her ear, only getting half of his sentence out until he was dragged away by a couple of Peter’s friends. Not too long, Peter replaced his spot, his hands gripping her waist tightly, keeping her pressed against him, holding her still.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Y/n growls slightly, the sound sending a pleasant feeling straight down to his manhood, but the anger of seeing another guy touch her was clouding over that feeling. Turning herself around, she was quick to push him off. 

“Fuck off, Pan. I’m here to have a good time, not waste it fighting with you.”

“Well then stop the search, because the ‘good time’ is right in front of you. What’s more fun then spending the night with the host of this sick party?”

“Avoiding him.” 

Y/n was about to walk away, only for her arm to be tugged right back. Groaning inwardly, she was about to give him another snarky comeback, only for the look on his face to wipe that idea completely. He looked troubled, almost uncertain of something. 

“Follow me.” 

“What part of ‘avoiding him’ did you not understand-”

“Please, love.” 

Now this caught her off guard. Him, Peter Pan, the ruthless greaser that didn’t ask nicely, and took what he wanted, was begging her? Oh, she was definitely about to use this against him later. But, for now. 

“Fine.” 

Doctor Kim || Seokjin Scenario

Originally posted by fyeahjinismyalpaca

Genre: Fluff | Doctor!Jin

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Word count: 2784

Warnings: Brief mention of being shot (I believe that’s it?)


(A/N: Here it finally is after a week! ^_^ I really hope you guys like this, this is dedicated to @jennilycrown, her and her love for Jin, ah ^_^ Please do leave me feedback guys, it’s always welcome, and do guess who the “blonde haired man” is at the end ;) )


Standing in the queue, you exhaled in frustration, tapping your foot impatiently as you waited. You peered down the line that seemed to stretch on for miles, your hands flying to your hips as you stared ahead, pushing your hair back with a sigh.

“This line had better move sometime soon, I really haven’t got all day,” you muttered to yourself, your lips curling into a frown as you glanced around at the other people bustling around in the bank. Some were sitting in corners consulting a banker, kids were impatiently tugging at their mothers’ sleeves while they attempted to work the machines, and here you were, standing in the halted line, purse in hand. You were so absorbed in your own frustration and annoyance, you hadn’t noticed the group of people clad in black dispersing throughout the building; until you heard the shrill sound of screaming, piercing your eardrums and causing to wince.

Spinning around, your hair flying into your face, you spotted the cause of the commotion - someone had the cold barrel of a gun pressed to a woman’s head while she knelt on the floor in plea, her kid bursting out into tears. The other people swiftly dashed through the crowd of people - and past the queue - pointing their guns towards the receptionists, their eyes wide and trembling with fear as they quickly packed wads of notes into black bags, under the stoic, watchful gazes of the criminals stood menacingly in front.

The initial feeling of fear left your body, instead replaced with pure frustration and anger, your fists balling up so tight that your knuckles quickly turned pale. This was the last straw, your day had already gone badly enough.

“Hey!” You shouted over the commotion, narrowing your eyes as you glared  - as menacingly as you could muster - at the man keeping the mother hostage, his eyes snapping up to glance at you, curiousity sparkling in his eyes. “Let her go before I… I…” You faltered, your mind buzzing as you tried to come up with a viable threat, but resulting in nothing.

The man laughed; a dark chuckle that reverberated through the now quiet room. Everyone was cowering away, unable to make their escape due to the men blocking every possible exit, the children clinging tightly to their parents, everyone crouched, frightened whispers echoing through occasionally.

“Before you what?” The man stood upright, casually walking towards you, a maniacal glint in his eyes as he stared at you, lips curled up in a devilish smirk. “What could a weakling like you do, hm? Try me.” He retaliated, standing only a metre away from you, a lump forming in your throat as you attempted to think fast.

Acting on instinct, you whipped off your heel and violently threw it at the man standing in front of you, his eyes widening at he watched the shoe spinning towards him, hitting him directly in the face. He winced, and his eyes quickly darkened with pure anger, rolling his neck and his arm raising to point the gun directly at you. You stood your ground, your body heaving in anger as you stared at this criminal in front of you, your other heel in hand, poised and ready to throw it. Cocking your eyebrow at him, anticipation built up throughout the room as everyone waited for someone to make the first move. More hushed whispers in the corner as someone frantically muttered some directions down the phone.

The man raised his eyebrows, and suddenly the sound of a gunshot spread through the building, your knees buckling, mouth agape as you stared down at the bleeding wound in your upper leg.

“You son of a…” You faltered once again, pressing your hand to the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding, glaring up at the man. He would have pulled the trigger again, but the door burst open, police pouring into the building and apprehending the criminals, the bystanders visibly relaxing in relief and allowing the situation to be taken care of.

One of the police officers, a young man with strikingly purple hair, scanned the scene, spotting you kneeling down on the ground, wincing as he noticed your bleeding wound. He approached you, kneeling beside you, and your head snapped up in surprise and recognition.

“Jungkook?” You exclaimed, briefly forgetting about the throbbing pain in your thigh, your curiosity piquing.

“(Y/N), what did you manage to get yourself into?” He tutted, raising an eyebrow up at you, a smirk dancing on his lips.

You rolled your eyes at him, scoffing as you scolded, “Hey, stop flirting, don’t forgot you have a girlfriend now, I’ll tell her.” Reaching up with your arms, you looked at him expectantly. “Help me up then, there should be ambulances outside, right?”

Jungkook simply chuckled, putting an arm around you to support you as you limped outside with his help, your eyes widened at the several ambulances parked outside.

“Thanks to my amazing heroicness, I reckon I’m the only one who was all that hurt, why exactly do you have so many ambulances lined up outside?” You inquired, your knees still threatening to give way beneath you from the pain of the bullet wedged in your leg.

Jungkook shrugged, taking you to the nearest ambulance and helping you up through the door, as he said, “They must have anticipated more casualties… what exactly did you do?” He turned to face you as best as he could while supporting you, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.

“I… uh, threw my heel at their leader…” You replied sheepishly, wincing again as another bolt of pain shot through your leg, your legs weak as you sat down inside the ambulance.

“You…” Jungkook looked at you in disbelief, snickering slightly at the thought. “You’ve got some guts, that’s all I can say.” Glancing back at the building, he looked back at you, his eyebrows still raised in disbelief. “I have to get back to help the other guys, good luck with the wound.” He shook his head, walking off with a smirk.

You leaned your head back on the wall of the vehicle, your eyelids cracking open slightly to see, who you presumed was a doctor, looking at you in concern, his eyes soft with care and worry. His black hair was parted to the side slightly, and you perked up at the sight of the rather handsome doctor staring directly at you.

“Are you okay?” The doctor finally spoke, as he leaned forward in his seat, his eyes darting to the blood still trickling out of the open wound, before glancing back up to make eye contact with you.

You opened your mouth to answer, but another sting of pain shot through your leg, and you groaned, leaning your head back and closing your eyes. The doctor took out a bandage from his first aid bag, leaning closer to you, his hands carefully winding it around your thigh as best as he could. You flinched at his touch, before relaxing again, your hand clinging onto his arm tightly as he tied off the bandage. Noticing your discomfort, he gently patted your arm, smiling reassuringly as he said, “Don’t worry, you’ll be okay. We’re almost at the hospital, where I’m going to remove the bullet for you. Luckily, the bullet doesn’t seem to be wedged in too deep, so you’ll be just fine, I promise.”

You blinked at the man throughout his speech, your eyes trailing up and down his face, admiring his sculpted features, his arching nose, his soft eyes, his caring yet worried expression. Cut it out, you told yourself, trying to refocus back on what he was trying to tell you, but you found yourself dreamily staring at the doctor once again, your mind drifting off elsewhere.

“Miss? Are you okay? Is the pain worsening in any way?” The doctor asked you in a worried tone, staring intently at you, his eyes scanning over you in concern. You finally returned to reality, attempting to sit upright, but slumping back as your leg began to throb again. “Just relax, don’t try to strain your body, it’ll just cause you more pain.”

“I think I’m okay,” you blinked at him once again, glancing out of the window behind him to realise you had finally reached the hospital after what seemed like an eternity of time, and the ambulance halted, the doctor reaching to open the doors.

He pulled out a folded wheelchair from the corner of the ambulance, stepping out of the ambulance and setting it up outside, glancing back up at you as you watched curiously. He fought back the urge to smile at your inquisitive expression, looking away and clearing his throat. He beckoned at a nurse standing near by, gesturing at you, and the nurse immediately understood, rushing over to help him support you as they gently lowered you onto the wheelchair, the nurse wheeling you into the hospital building, the doctor following beside you.

“I’m going to try and remove the bullet for you now, okay? It’s likely that’ll leave a scar, but that can’t be helped, the important thing is that the wound heals correctly with infection,” the doctor explained, his lips curling up into that same charming smile, and you stared up at him, processing his words.

“Is this going to hurt? Because you’re literally pulling a bullet out of my leg, what are you going to stick in my leg? Are you sure this is safe, you won’t pierce an artery or something, what if I bleed out too much…” You rambled, the doctor looking at you in surprise at your sudden outburst, chuckling under his breath.

“I assure you, you’ll be perfectly fine. As I said, the bullet hasn’t gone in too deep, so it shouldn’t be too hard for me to remove the bullet, and no, you shouldn’t bleed out too much, you’ll be just fine.” The doctor shook his head, a smile dancing on his lips, and the nurse finally wheeled you into a surgical room of some sort. The doctor nodded at the nurse, and the two of them slowly carried you up off the wheelchair, setting you down upright on a hospital bed, a light pink dusting your cheeks at his hands supporting your legs.

The nurse smiled, before rushing back out of the room, likely to tend to another patient, leaving you alone with the doctor once again. He took out a row of surgical tools, and you gulped, your eyes widening as they glistened under the light, your eyes darting back up to the man in slight fear.

Noticing, the doctor shook his head, chuckling as he said, “Don’t worry, I’m not using all of these, I only need one or two tools. I will have to stitch the wound up afterwards though, but I’ll apply some anaesthetic to the area before I do anything so you won’t feel any pain, I promise.”

You shook your head at the mention of stitches, shuddering as you thought about the needle piercing your skin. “I hate needles,” you muttered, sighing and pressing your hand to your forehead dramatically, the doctor smiling to himself with an amused expression. He wheeled closer to you in his chair, and your face flushed pink as he gently lifted up your skirt a little to reach the wound, your hand clinging onto the mattress. A light pink flourished on his face as well, but he continued, treating the wound before he attempted to carefully and precisely remove the bullet.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you began to ramble on about what happened, your hands gesturing wildly in frustration. “You should’ve seen the look on his face, he looked so smug, like it was all a show to him, he looked like he was finding it so entertaining, I just wanted to wipe the smirk off his dumb face, what kind of robber was he…” You continued rambling, and the doctor couldn’t help the smile that spread onto his face at your strangely cute frustration, shaking his head occasionally.

Having successfully removed the bullet, he took out a needle, your eyes once again widening in fear, your hands flying up in protest. “Hey, Doc, is this really necessary? I mean, I’m sure it’ll close up by itself, the body is just amazing like that, I don’t really think we need to stick that thing in my leg…”

He simply looked at you in slight disbelief and slight amusement, before saying, “As amazing as the body is, it does need help healing the wound, so that mean I am going to have to stitch it up. It’ll only take a minute, and it won’t hurt one bit, I promise.”

His hand rested on your thigh to steady it, and once again a blush spread over your face at his warm touch, your arm flying up to grab onto his shoulder, causing him to look up at you with surprise.

“I… uh… need to… um… steady myself, so…” You stuttered, only clinging on tighter, and he simply smiled, beginning to stitch up the wound. He couldn’t help but find you adorable, no matter how much he tried to remain professional, especially the way you obliviously stared at him with curiosity, causing a small flutter in his chest.

**

You sat up in the recovery room, after spending a significant amount of time resting and regaining the strength in your legs, the doctor popping in occasionally to change the dressing on your leg. He had to be the most handsome doctor you had ever come across, and so you couldn’t help the blush that rose up onto his cheeks every time he smiled at you, mentally slapping yourself for being so awkward.

For the last time that day, the doctor walked in, charming smile present on his face once again.

“How are you doing?” He asked, standing by the bed you were currently propped up in. “Your leg feeling better I hope?”

You nodded, your hand reaching over to brush over the dressing still on your thigh, remembering the warmth of his touch, and smiling to yourself.

“I think you’re finally ready to be discharged, so some advice, make sure you keep the dressing and the area around it nice and clean, take the painkillers I’ve given you, and make sure you change the dressing regularly.” He explained, gesturing with his hands, and once again, all you could do was stare up at his face, your eyes once again trailing up and down.

“What?” He asked, noticing your expression. “Is there something on my face?” His hand reached out to brush against his cheek, his expression curious.

“You’re cute,” you blurted out, looking down awkwardly as you realised what you’d said, the doctor simply chuckling.

“I’ll leave you gather your things then, nice to meet you, (Y/N).” And with that, he left the room once again, and you pouted. “He could’ve said something back…”

Finally ready to leave, you slipped your coat on over your shoulders, frowning slightly as you realised it meant you might not get to see him anymore, sighing as you went to grab your bag. You cocked your head slightly when you noticed a neatly folded piece of paper by your bag, turning it around in your hands curiously.

Opening it, you smiled as you read the neat handwriting scribbled across the paper. It was a phone number, signed “the ‘cute’ doctor, Seokjin (I’m glad you realised my good looks, I am cute).” You shook your head with a laugh, your heart flipping in your chest as you tucked the paper into your bag, making a note to call him later on.

**

Ever since that day, you became a regular at the hospital, popping in with a new “sickness” almost every day. You came in with a fever one day, a “broken leg” the next day, and a stomach bug the day after that.

The hospital staff had become accustomed to your visits, laughing it off and informing you that Seokjin - or Jin as everyone called him - would be on break soon, and that you could go see him then.

One day, you were standing in the reception of the hospital, laughing over something with Jin as you playfully hit his arm, when the two of you spotted two men walking in, standing in the middle and scanning the room. One of them - a blonde haired with a backpack slung over his shoulder - saw the two of you standing there, and walked over to the two of you nonchalantly.

“Has a teenage boy, about this tall, injured, been admitted to this hospital today?”

prongsno  asked:

okay rhiannon i can't choose one so here and you can choose which inspires you c: 20, 49, 51, 54, 58 & 60 <333 ((because i can never make my mind up! choose whichever hehe))

‘marble hearts collide’

#58 “I was going to kiss him, but then my friend texted me about going to Taco Bell, and, well, there’s this cashier that works there who is way cuter, so I bailed on the rest of the date.”

Thank you Grace! I chose this one because I had an idea for it as soon as I read it and so… that’s what this is <3 I might make this a thing ?? like a series

modern + muggle au

“I was going to kiss him, but then Gemma texted me about going to Taco Bell, and, well, there’s this cashier that works there who is way cuter, so I bailed on the rest of the date.” Lily’s telling him this, aware that she sounds loopy, and she can’t help the blush on her cheeks but she’s also had a few glasses of wine, a few really meaning five, and really, it needs to be said. “So, anyway, I’m standing in front of this cashier guy and he really, really is cute. Like, textbook, chick flick, cute. Probably has a good shot at a career on Instagram. And he asks me what I want. And you know what I don’t want?” She pauses, doesn’t give him time to answer, takes another sip of the drink in her hand, drink meaning gin and tonic, and continues, “Him! I don’t want him! So, now I’ve bailed on my date to ask another guy out on a date and I go to ask this guy and I realise I don’t want to go on a date with him! He has to use a calculator to work out my change. I only paid with a fiver!” She throws her hands up and almost sends her glass flying and Sirius takes that as his cue to intervene. 

“Hey, Evans,” he says, stilling her hand, “breathing is a vital part of staying alive.”

She looks at him with wide eyes, wide eyes meaning eyes that can’t focus on one thing. “I’m breathing.”

“Good to know.” He slips her legs off his lap and stands, cracking his neck, before snatching her glass from her hand. He downs it before she can protest and just grins at her pout. “Everything in moderation.”

“Including sobriety.” Surprisingly, drink never seems to hinder Lily’s vocabulary. It just makes her sound like a character out of an American coming-of-age film. 

Keep reading

Mr Douchebag- Stiles Stilinski

Author: @maddie110201 

Pairing- Dylan x Chloe

Word count- 3,884

Warnings- Cringey smut ;) 

AN: This was for @writing-obrien Competition (thus Chloe x Reader) But i also decided to post it as well! Im not sure how much i like this and im not really too proud of it but oh whale. I’ve been meaning to post something for months now!!!! Also thanks to the lovely @dylan-trash-tbh for proofreading this for me!!!


Originally posted by allmyworry


Stiles. Fucking. Stilinski.

Stiles is my best friend. Or was. I’m not sure how to feel now, considering he has ruined every relationship i’ve been in. I’m not sure why he does it or why he thinks he’s “protecting me” but i’m getting really sick and tired of it.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Could you write a small thing about ryan leaving bodies for ray as a sign of courtship? And ray being like "what the fuck?"

Gotcha covered Anon. Warning for some gore and thank you so much for the prompt:

It’s not every day Ray finds a dead guy outside of his apartment (if it had been, he would have moved a long time ago), but there he is, lying there, eyes wide open, body riddled with bullet holes, three fingers missing.

It’s the fingers that give away who this guy is; Ray having shot them off in a struggle for his gun two days ago. It’s one of the downsides of working for Geoff Ramsey, sometimes guys tried to take them out at all hours of the day. The crew quickly learned they either have to fight back or let it happen. So far, none of them have let it happen.

Ray’s not sure who would take the time to track this guy down and kill him; especially with very little to go on. Until today, he had never seen the man’s face, hadn’t heard his voice, knew virtually nothing about him other than he worked for someone who at some point wanted Geoff and anyone working for him dead. And that three of his fingers were missing. Because of Ray.

Carefully, Ray steps over the body, making a quick phone call to the clean up crew they have on stand by, and Barbara promises to make quick work with the disposal; puns and all.

The rest of the day passes by uneventfully, and when Ray returns home no more bodies have been left in the hall. He does wonder why none of the neighbors bothered to call the cops, but then he remembers that last week he had heard gunshots coming from What’s Her Face’s apartment upstairs followed by a loud cackle. The next morning, Ray talked to the woman and she acted as if nothing happened, but he could have sworn he saw specks of blood covering her shoes. He didn’t ask, she didn’t tell, and they went about their lives.

He thinks about moving again, but dismisses the idea. His neighbor may be morally questionable, but she’s a fantastic baker and the commute to the FAHC office is only fifteen minutes. Plus, he’s already moved once thanks. Not again.


The next morning, he nearly trips over another body, this one laying right outside of his bedroom door. He takes several steps back, watching the new body warily, half expecting it to stand up and start swinging, but it just continues to lie there, immobile, throat cut, blood spattered across the front of his shirt.

Ray doesn’t recognize this guy, but he still has a feeling he should know who he is, so he snaps a picture of him and sends it to Gavin.

Gavin responds with an incoherent text followed by about fifty exclamation points and question marks, and Ray can’t help laughing softly, possibly sounding a little hysterical. He doesn’t blame Gavin for his response, would have had the same had their roles been reversed (possibly with a few less punctuation marks), and only types: Do you know who this guy is?

Gavin doesn’t respond for a good fifty minutes, but when he does it’s an email. The guy turns out to be the boss of the first dead guy. Some small time criminal with his hand in too many cookie jars, a record a mile wide, and a petty grudge against Geoff.

Why are you standing over this dead guy? Did you kill him? Gavin sends the text almost immediately after the email.

Not me. Ray sends back because if he’s going to get accused of killing one of Geoff’s enemies, he better be the one who pulled the trigger.

What sort of mof leaves a dead body on your floor?

I’ll let you know when I do.

After another quick call to Barbara, who delivers about a dozen rapid-fire dead body puns before promising to take care of the new dead guy, Ray sets out to find who has been leaving dead people around his apartment.


Geoff has a fit when Ray tells him about the body. He goes on about having to pay Barb not once but twice in the same week, and how the last person who cost him this much money on cleaners had been Ryan after his last murder break. It gives Ray an idea, but he stores it away for later, instead asking Geoff if he knows who could be responsible.

“How the fuck should I know? I gotta go make a few calls, make sure Barb isn’t the one doing it. She tried this two years ago.” He stalks away muttering to himself and Ray huffs. So much for Geoff’s help.

For a brief, very brief, moment Ray thinks maybe Barbara is behind this, but then he reminds himself she’d be more likely to leave the bodies outside of Geoff’s apartment, and he immediately abandons the idea.

No one else in the crew is all that helpful, but Michael and Jeremy offer to keep an ear out. Gavin starts going over security camera footage outside Ray’s apartment building and in the lobby, but whoever is doing this must have disabled them because he has no luck.

Jack offers up her couch until they figure out who’s behind it, but Ray kindly brushes off her concern. He’s sure whoever is doing this isn’t threatening him, but he knows there’s a message there somewhere. He just doesn’t know what is is yet.

The only person he can’t seem to find is Ryan, but knowing him he’s holed up in Sandy Shores somewhere, hiding out from the cops. It wouldn’t be the first time and Ray knows it won’t be the last either.

He goes for broke around noon, stopping by Fakehaus’ hideout, but the only one around is Lawrence. He’s sitting behind a desk, tinkering with an old laptop, but looks up when Ray walks into the room.

“Oh great, there you are. You here to pay me?”

Ray stops, confused. “Pay you?”

“Yeah, pay me. Look, I tried calling Ramsey but he’s not answering and I’m about this close-” he held up his left hand, his index finger and thumb nearly touching “-to tracking Ryan down myself.” He glances at his finger and thumb again before widening the space exponentially. “Okay, more like this…” he trails off again, squinting at his hand, and then says, “Fuck it. Just tell Ryan he still owes me for the information.”

“Information?”

“Yeah, information,” Lawrence retorts impatiently. “I mean fuck, if Ramsey is going to send Haywood around looking for some guy who fucked him over once like eight years ago the least he can do is send him along with some money. Especially since I found not only him but the flunky who works for him.”

Ray turns to leave, ignoring Lawrence when he calls him back. He thinks he understands what’s going on, maybe, but he can’t be sure and the uncertainty is going to drive him crazy.

Too lost in his head to actually be paying attention, he nearly runs into Ryan as he’s leaving the hideout. He looks up, scowling at Ryan.

“Uh, hi,” Ryan says with an awkward wave.

Ray narrows his eyes at him, opens his mouth to say something no doubt profound or witty, but instead grumbles, “I hate puns.”

“What?” Taken aback, Ryan shuffles back a few steps, watching Ray warily.

“I hate puns, Ryan,” Ray repeats softly. “I hate puns and yet because of you I had to deal with them.”

“I don’t…” Ryan clears his throat, his cheeks turning red. His voice cracks when he says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Betrayed by one of my closest friends and he can’t even admit what he did.” He shakes his head, pushing Ryan back a step. “Dude, you left me not one but two bodies. Two. I mean, yeah they’re both involved in my almost death, but seriously. Can’t you have buried them in the desert like a normal criminal? I had to call Barb and I swear she has a book full of puns she has at the ready whenever anyone calls her. What the hell, Ryan?”

“I don’t know,” Ryan exclaims with a helpless shrug. “I thought, you know, you’d see the bodies and…”

“And what? What? I’d swoon at your feet and declare you my hero?” Ray can’t help it, he laughs, shaking his head again. “Dude, next time. Next time just ask me out like a normal person, you idiot.”

When something close to hope flickers across Ryan’s face, Ray knows his hunch had been right, but it doesn’t stop him from quickly saying, “That’s not a yes, by the way. You’re not getting a yes that easily.”

“I’ll wear you down,” Ryan replies with a self-assured grin.

“If I find another body on my doorstep it’ll be a definite no.”

“I make no promises.”

Talk Drunky to Me

Hey guys! So, I suck and the muse has been hiding for almost 4 months. I’m sorry I haven’t been writing, but now that the show is over and KLAROLINE IS ENDGAME, my muse is KICKING! Okay, I’m hella rusty and Klaus is probably totes OOC here, but why not come back to life with a little crack drabble?

From Ashleigh: One gets drunk and confesses all over the phone, unaware that said person on the other end was actually outside, ready to confess their love. Fluffy post canon Klaroline?*no babies* ;)

Enjoy!

Coming to New Orleans in the middle of Mardi Gras was a good idea in theory, but in hindsight, Caroline cursed her less than stellar timing. The streets were brimming full with half naked people running around, tossing beads and spraying booze over the crowds while she attempted to navigate her way through the French Quarter. She dragged two heavy, gray suitcases behind her, and sidestepped a hazy college guy who embarrassingly face-planted in front of her as he attempted to flirt. Caroline wrinkled her nose and kept on walking, thankful that her taste in men had improved immensely over the decades.

Thirty years ago, Caroline would have been in the middle of the throng of people, drunk off her ass. But older, wiser, eternally a teenager but creeping into middle-age-Caroline was more interested in spectating the festival with a glass of champagne between her fingers and an Original Hybrid by her side. 

She rarely spoke to anybody from Mystic Falls. Elena and the Salvatore brothers took the cure years before, turning human and living out their last lives in the suffocating small town. Matt married a quiet girl from high school Caroline’s math class that she never noticed and was about to become a grandfather for the fifth time. Bonnie traveled with Enzo, the witch using powers and herbs to keep herself from aging. She and Caroline kept in touch, meeting up whenever they were on the same continent.

It wasn’t the first time she thought this, but perhaps she seriously considered for the tenth time, turning back and having the airline ship her belongings to Klaus’ door.  She blew her sweaty bangs off her forehead as she lugged her suitcases with a huff. Why did she feel the need to bring her whole shoe collection, including her ski boots? But, the dramatic person in Caroline (and to be honest, the dramatic person in Klaus too) eagerly anticipated the sure to be memorable look on his face when she showed up on his doorstep with her stuff. 

She stopped by an alley, pulling out her phone to consult the address Rebekah texted her the week prior. Over the past few years, she and the blonde Original had somewhat hit it off through an accidental run-in in Barcelona. Caroline ran into a little drunken trouble with a hunter one night, and Rebekah was luckily in the same place at the same time, swooping in the save her. Surprisingly, the older vampire was a blast to travel and shop with. They had a long standing tradition of hitting all the infamous fashion weeks, and Rebekah not so subtly kept Caroline updated on her family’s hijinks. 

Putting the address into Google maps, Caroline made a face when she realized how far out the Mikaelson mansion was from the French Quarter. Leave it to Klaus to find the oldest, largest mansion in the middle of nowhere on the outskirts of town. She was just about to open up her Uber app for a ride when her phone vibrated in her hand, the words “Blocked Caller” flashing across her screen.

Rolling her eyes, she swiped to answer. It was a common occurrence for Enzo to lose his phone along with Bonnie’s whenever they went on a drinking binge in Vienna or Venice and they always called her from their newest number to let her know it was them. 

“What country are you calling from this time?” she answered with a laugh.

There was silence on the other end, a shuffling noise coming through. Caroline narrowed her brows.

“Enzo? Bon?”

She heard another shuffle and a manly sounding groan came through the receiver. Her pulse jumped, her mind instantly going a hundred miles a minute wondering if Enzo got himself into some trouble.

“Enzo? Is that you?”

“Caroline,” a low, familiar accent sang through the receiver.

Keep reading

Mom - Auston Matthews

Requested by anon: Hello!! I love your writing!! Do you kind writing a Auston Matthews imagine where he introduces the reader to his family and his mom doesn’t like the reader so she has to try to win her over?? Hopefully that makes sense!!! Thanks so much!!!

A/N: I’m so sorry it took so long, I’m awful. I hope you like it!

Word count: 1432

Warnings: None. I think. I mean, momma Matthews is mad.

Master list

Originally posted by wonthetrade

“Oh my god (y/n), stop cleaning,” Auston whines from his spot on the couch. “You are going to wear out the floors if you keep vacuuming.”

I grunt, hitting his feet with the nozzle until he gives in and puts his feet up on the table that I have just wiped.

“Auston, put your feet down!” I scold him and he rolls his eyes, putting his feet on the floor after I’ve vacuumed under them.

“I don’t understand why are freaking out. It’s my family, not the Queen of England.” He says, looking down at his phone.

Yeah, it is easy for him to say, but I’m about to have a mental breakdown. I’ve been dating Auston for five months now and it’s been great so far,ut when he told me that his family is coming to visit from Arizona I got into full crazy mode. I’ve cleaned his house at least ten times in the last three days, bought fresh flowers, changed all the sheets and made beds for everyone, got snacks and food for everybody… And I’m more anxious by the minute.

“I don’t have to impress the Queen of England.” I mutter, dusting the top of the TV again.

“They are going to love you, (y/n).” Auston says, getting on his feet and wrapping his arms around my waist while I straighten a pile of pucks that are sitting on the TV stand.

“I hope so.”


 

I look at the mirror one last time, looking for flaws on my outfit. Auston and I decided that it would be best for me to meet his parents and sisters at dinner so he could spend time with them first. We are going to Auston’s favorite steak house. I decided that a pair of jeans, a nice blouse and booties would be an okay outfit, it was simple and it didn’t scream I tried too hard.

“C’mon (y/n), you can do this.” I cheer at my reflection, grabbing my keys from the small hooks on the wall and stepping out my small apartment.

The steak house isn’t far away from my place, so I decide to walk there. It only takes me ten minutes to get there and I’m five minutes early… that’s good, right? I’m early… I didn’t make them wait… I’m so worried about causing a good impression that I don’t even realize that they are here until Auston touches my arm.

“(y/n).” My name rolls in his mouth, waking me up from my trance. “(y/n), these are sisters, Alexandria and Breyana, and my mom and dad, Ema and Brian.”

I smile, extending my hand to shake everyone’s hands, but Breyana walks up to me and hugs me leaving me speechless for a second.

“It’s so nice to meet you, (y/n). “ She says, rubbing my back with her hands. “Auston doesn’t stop talking about you.”

I feel like I’m blushing and I give everyone a shy smile, earning smiles from everyone but Ema.

“Let’s get inside.” Ema’s accent is thick, but it is easy to understand.

I sit between Breyana and Auston, Ema in front of me. We order our drinks and Auston and I give them time to choose what they want from the menu; Auston and I already know what we want. I can’t help it but to smile when Brian orders for Ema so she doesn’t have to repeat herself if the waiter doesn’t understand her the first time around.

“So (y/n), what do you do for living?” Brian asks, taking a sip of his beer.

“I’m a student.” I answer. “Sports management.”

I don’t realize that I’m nervous until Auston puts his hand on my leg to stop me from jerking it any longer. I look at him and he gives me a reassuring smile, squeezing my thigh softly.

“Oh, so you are planning on working with athletes! She could be your manager, Aus!” Alexandria says cheerily and I smile, shaking my head.

“Auston doesn’t need a new manager.” Ema’s voice is sharp; she almost sounds mad.

I look at her, trying to decipher if she is actually annoyed or not. She is looking straight at me, a frown visible on his face.

“I actually want to work with teams, not athletes.” I say, nervously playing with my rings.

“I’m sure that Auston could help you get into the Maple Leafs team.” Brian comments and Ema’s frown deepens.


 

I’m sitting next to Ema watching the game. Auston has got tickets for all of us, even thought I told him that it wasn’t necessary, that I could get my own ticket. To be honest, I don’t want to be here; I can feel Ema’s discontent with me from a thousand miles away. I’ve tried to make her like me… not even like me, tolerate me, for the last three days and nothing has worked.

The game is tied to one with only two minutes left on the clock. I try to focus on the game, but I’m too busy trying to be as invisible as possible, answering Brian, Breyana and Alexandria’s questions with the smallest amount of words as I possibl can so I don’t say anything that can upset Ema any further. I’m so focus on barely breathing that I don’t even realize that Auston has scored until everyone have jumped off their seats. I get on my feet and applaud, trying to ignore Ema’s disappointed look.


 

“I’m going to bed.” Auston says, getting up from the couch where he is sitting and kissing my temple. “You staying?”

“No, I should leave.” I say, shaking my head and he frowns but doesn’t say anything else.

“Good night, everyone.” He kisses his mom and sisters good night and walks to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

Before I can get up and leave Breyana, Alexandria and Brian excuse themselves as well and go to their rooms, leaving me alone with Ema. I sit there, trying to figure out what to say or do.

“I think that you should go.” Ema says. “For good.”

“For good?” I wonder, feeling sick on my stomach.

“Yes, before you hurt my son.” Her answer stinks deep inside my soul.

“I would never hurt your son on purpose.” I defend myself, getting on my feet. “I love your son.”

“You love his money, his fame and his contacts.” Ema’s accent is even thicker when she is mad and I feel even sicker than before.

“I have never asked him for anything, Ema. Neither do I want him to find me a job.” I say, rising up my voice. “We met on the coffee shop I work on. He kept coming and coming and coming, asking for a large Americano and my number and he didn’t stop until I agreed to give him my number and go on a date with him. Yes, I knew who he was, if I would have wanted to take advantage of him I would have agreed to go on a date the first time he asked.”

Ema and I stare at each other for what it seems like years, trying to read each other’s expressions. It doesn’t seem like Ema has anything else to say, so I grab my coat from the back on the chair it is on and walk towards the front door when I hear her.

“(y/n)… you should stay.” She says and I turn around. “I’m making churros for breakfast.”

I look at her again, but she seems sincere so I nod and hang my coat on the entry’s closet and take my boots off, leaving them on the shoe rack.

“Good night, Ema.” I whisper, realizing that I’ve been yelling all the time.

“Buenas noches, mija.” She answers, giving me a shy smile.

I open Auston’s door and step in, shutting it behind me and leaning on it.

“Come here, baby.” Auston says from the bed, patting the spot next to him. “My mom is scary when she is mad.”

“No kidding.” I say, taking my jeans off and getting in bed besides him.

“Make your banana pancakes for her tomorrow and she will fall in love with you.” He tells me, wrapping his arms around my body.

“That’s how I made you fell in love with me?” I wonder, laughing softly.

“Pretty much.” He jokes and I hit his chest. “I love you, (y/n). And my mom will love you too, just give her a little time to stop being overprotective over his baby boy.”

“She won me over when she said churros, to be honest.”

anonymous asked:

46, 93, 98 Yoongi pleaseeeeeee

I Will Follow You Into The Dark (Yoongi x Reader Fluff)

Prompt request: “If they find out, I’ll kill you then myself.” + “You’re crazy! You’re out of your mind!” + "Where are your pants?”

Summary: Every time you go to work, you look out the window and see your classmate, Yoongi, jumping a fence and disappearing into the darkness. One day, you decide to follow him. To put it simply: shit hits the fan.

Word count: 1.3k words

Originally posted by rapnamu

You leaned over the counter, the used bookstore almost completely empty. The clock near the cash was a few minutes behind, but it was nearly seven o’clock. You knew that soon, if you looked to your left, you would see your mysterious classmate, Yoongi, leap over the fences across the street.

Every time you went to work, which was three times a week, you would see Yoongi appear and disappear into a shroud of darkness in nearly seconds.

At school, Yoongi had a bit of a dangerous reputation. No one actually knew if the rumours were true, but Yoongi’s standoffish behaviour and dark appearance didn’t help to dispel them. During your uneventful shifts, you often imagined what Yoongi could be doing.

You wondered if you were overthinking things, and this was just a shortcut for Yoongi to get home. But sometimes your mind wandered, and guiltily, you questioned if Yoongi was up to something dangerous. Drug deals? Vandalism? Gang stuff?

“Hey, Y/N,” your supervisor called, snapping you out of your reverie. “Suzy wants to go home early, so can you take your break now?”

“Yeah, sure,” you responded immediately, not really caring. You stepped out from behind the cash register to make way for your co-worker and made your way to the employee room in the back of the store.

Once you were in the small room, you reached for your locker and retrieved your hoodie. Throwing it over your uniform shirt, you quickly made up your mind. You were going to follow Yoongi to figure out what was really going on.

Quickly, you made your way out of the story. Taking the back exit, you found yourself in an alleyway shared with a few other nearby stores. The sun was beginning to set already, casting dark shadows in between the buildings.

As you approached the main street, you stuck close to the wall in case Yoongi was near. Just as you reached the front of your building, you caught a glimpse of a small-framed boy with bleach blond hair swinging his body over the tall, chain link fence across the street. He landed gently on his feet and continued quickly, soon becoming lost in the darkness in front of you.

Gulping, you stood rooted in place for a few moments while you considered if following Yoongi was really a good idea. But eventually, your curiosity got the better of you, and you ran across the street to where Yoongi had slipped away.

The closer you got to the fence, the more daunting it looked. It was higher than you anticipated, and you wondered if you’d be able to climb it at all.

Inhaling deeply, you grabbed onto some chain links and jammed your right foot into another. With a mighty heave, you managed to lift yourself up. Foot by foot, you slowly ascended the fence, the metal links clanging loudly against the poles supporting it as you moved. Yoongi made scaling the fence look much easier than it actually was.

Eventually, when you reached the top of the fence, you were coated in a sheen sweat. Straddling the top, you glanced down at the ground, which seemed miles away. Unsure of how to disembark, you recalled Yoongi’s effortless jump over the fence.

The drop was far enough to look like it hurt, but not enough to break any bones.

Awkwardly, you repositioned your body so that your legs were dangling over the edge. With a muffled scream, you let yourself fall. Something snagged your right leg, and you heard a loud rip as you tumbled to the ground.

You landed unsteadily on your feet, quickly losing your balance and falling to the pavement. Groaning in pain, you pulled yourself back up.

A cool breeze tickled at your thigh.

Looking down, you realized that your jeans had been torn from the knee through the waistband, the denim dangling uselessly around your leg. Cursing underneath your breath, you grabbed the torn ends and pulled them together to salvage your decency.

Lifting your gaze, you realized you were standing in a dark alleyway leading in many other directions. You had no way of knowing what was waiting in the obscurity, but you had come this far, so you weren’t going to turn back. Plus, you weren’t ready to tackle that fence again.

Quietly, you began walking, the sound of your footsteps loud in the silence around you.

As you progressed, you could hear something faintly in the distance. Increasing your pace, you followed the sound. Eventually, it became louder, and the high pitched noise resembled something of the cries of an animal.

Concerned, you broke into a light jog and followed the source, which led to a narrower alleyway. The meows of what sounded like kittens was nearly deafening now, but the sight that greeted you was even more surprising.

Yoongi sat in the middle of the alley, his bodies covered in kittens, and a bowl of milk beside him. He gazed down at the small animals around him, smiling softly as the stray kittens nuzzled against him.

You couldn’t help it–you burst out laughing.

Yoongi’s head whipped up, his mouth growing slack as he saw you.

“Y/N, w-what the fuck are you doing here?” he spluttered, plucking the kittens off of him. Yoongi jumped to his feet and approached you, but he no longer seemed intimidating. You wiped away tears from your eyes. “Did you follow me? The fuck?”

“I can’t believe this,” you cried, falling into another fit of laughter. “This is so weird. I thought you’d be doing drugs or something, not nursing kittens. Man, everyone at school is so wrong. You’re a huge softie, this is hilarious!”

“If they find out, I’ll kill you then myself,” Yoongi growled, staring down at you with a menacing expression. He was still coming closer, and you backed up instinctively.

“Shit, Yoongi, I’m just joking!” you gasped. “You’re crazy! You’re out of your mind!”

A soft meow interrupted you, and you looked down at your feet. One of the kittens had approached you curiously and was sitting beside your shoe, looking up at you. Your heart melted at the pink-nosed kitten, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Where are your pants?” Yoongi asked, his voice tight. When you looked down again, you noticed that your ripped pants had slipped down, and your pants were circling around your ankles.

“Oh my god!” you screamed, reaching for your pants. The kitten scampered away, startled by your shouting. “Look away! Close your eyes!”

Even in the dim lighting, you could see Yoongi’s cheeks turn red. It was futile, but you held your ripped jeans up, trying to keep the torn fabric together to hide your underwear. Faintly, you could hear Yoongi snickering.

“Shut up,” you snapped, your cheeks heating up. “We’re even now. Everything that happened here stays here. Deal?”

“Deal,” Yoongi agreed. “Can I open my eyes now?”

“Whatever,” you sighed. Kneeling down, you reached your hand toward the kittens that were slowly crowding you and Yoongi. “These kittens are so small. How long have you been taking care of them?”


A few weeks later, Yoongi approached you at school and quietly disclosed that the kittens were old enough to adopt. He offered you one, and you accepted eagerly. Later, he explained that he couldn’t keep any of them because his parents were allergic.

The other kids at school were shocked to see you and Yoongi talking, but you paid them no mind. You became much closer as time went on, bonding over your shared parenthood over Yoongi’s favourite kitten.

And if Yoongi used the cat as an excuse to start talking to you, well, no one needed to know.

- Girl in Luv

The fence thing sort of happened to me before. I jumped off a truck and my pants got stuck on something and ripped ALL THE WAY DOWN. I also grabbed onto a broken chain link once and gashed my palm open. Moral of the story: don’t jump fences or other things. Anyway, hope you enjoyed! This request was so much fun and I’m sorry I wasn’t creative enough to think of a weirder scenario :( As always, thanks for reading!

Natural Beauty

Pairing: Philip Hamilton x Reader (Modern)
Word Count: 2,384ish
T/W: Smut, Kinks 
A/N: (Requests open) So I’m currently taking a college summer semester which means I go to class every week day. It’s a “physical education” class, so we work out everyday and that’s how I got this idea. 
Side note: Am I the only one who sees Philip as Anthony Lee Medina?…


“Yes! That’s a new time!” you exclaimed.

“Yeah…by like…two minutes!!…” your best friend, Theodosia, panted, as she bent over, resting her hands on her knees. 

The two of you made a pact to run together the whole summer, until school started again. After all it was going to be your senior year of college, you simply had to look your best. Though running in the middle of summer did make you sweat like no tomorrow.

“That’s a lot Theo!!” you squinted up as you tried to calmed your breathing. 

“Uh-huh, yeah…well it’s got me sweating like a pig!” Theo stood up and pulled at her t-shirt which had sweat spots scattered across it.

“I told you to wear a tank top!” you gestured to yourself smirking.

“Yeah, well I’m sure, Philip will love it!” She winked, eyes trailing down to your chest. 

“Oh come on! I know he’s “innocent”, but he’s seen my boobs before…”

“I’m just sayin’…with them all glistening and perky-”

“Dear Lord, Theo! He’s not even supposed to be home, he said he was going to visit his Dad.” you shrugged, “Though I kinda wish he was more assertive, ya know? I’m usually starting stuff. I know he always wants to make sure I’m in the mood, but honestly I’d love to see him be in the mood first…”

“Maybe you gotta find what really does it for him? Some guys are like that you know? There’s that one thing that just makes them go crazy!” Theo looked at her watch, “I better get home, I’m having family dinner tonight.”

“Okay, well have fun girl!” You hugging her before unlocking the apartment door and jogging up the stairs until you reached your floor. Turning the key and opening the door you find Philip sitting by the counter typing on his laptop. Probably writing something for the summer poetry class he was taking in grad school.  

“Hey, baby!” You closed the door, and kicked off your running shoes, taking your socks off and tossing them next to the shoes, “I thought you were supposed to be with your family today?”

“Yeah, well I was, but then Mom sent me a text this morning saying her and Dad were packing to go to France. They’re going to stay with the Marquis for a summer vacation.” Philip stated as he typed gently.

“Aww, I’m sorry babe. I know how much family means to you.” you said walking up behind Philip, who hadn’t even turned to see you come through the apartment door, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before walking around the counter to the kitchen opening the fridge.

“Yeah…I mean it’s whatever, they’ve been really good friends. I’ve always called Lafayette my Uncle since he-” Philip stopped dead in his tracks as you stood on the opposite side of the counter in front of him, opening the bottle of Gatorade you had grabbed from the fridge while he was talking.

“He?” you asked raising your eyebrows.

“He- uh, well he…um,” Philip looked down at his keyboard, then back up at you, his eyes travelled slowly across your body.

There was silence.

“Philip!” you raised your voice a little, just enough to snap him out of the trance he seemed to be in, “What’s up?”

“Nothing, I, it’s just, you look great, baby!” He blurted out weakly smiling at you.

You arched an unbelieving eyebrow, cocking your head to the side a little while resting your palms on the counter, “Really…I just ran four miles, I have no makeup on, I’m sweating like a pig and I look….great?”

“No, really you do…” Philip began to blush as he redirected his eyes to meet yours, before swallowing harshly and looking back to his computer. 

Just as you were about to walk off to take a shower, it clicked. Was he…turned on? This was it, you had turned him on without even touching him. 

Smiling devilishly you crossed your arms onto the counter and leaned forward on them. Accentuating a particular part of your body Philip seemed to be enjoying. Philip had always been sweet and gentle and wanted you to be in the mood before he would even make a move, but now you wanted to see how it worked when he was in the mood first. Did he have the same patience?

“So, whatcha workin’ on?” you inquired.

“Oh, just some poems for my summer cla-” Philip clenched his jaw when he looked up.

“You okay, baby?” you swayed your hips on your way over to Philip.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” he subtly bit his lower lip as he watched the motion of your hips.

You sat on the bar stool next to him,  Philip directed his attention to his screen.

“You sure?” you placed a hand on his upper thigh and began rubbing it up and down his inner thigh.

Philip tried to cover up a moan with a cough, but it didn’t exactly work. Desperately wanting to move things along, you took it to the next level leaning closer to him, chest pressing into his bicep while you placed hot kisses on his jaw. Your hand travelled higher on his thigh, lingering around his belt buckle. The typing noise stopped and he was motionless as you continued your antics for a few more seconds. 

“What’s wrong ba-”

Philip abruptly closed his laptop. You weren’t sure how he was feeling, was he mad or still turned on? You noticed him breathing heavier and pulled back.

“Philip-”

Before you could continue your question he grabbed your wrist and began dragging you off to the bedroom. Your heart began to race, bitting your lip you wondered how this was going to work. Once you were in the bedroom he pulled you into a passionate kiss, pressing your body tight against his. Your hands reached up to wrap around his neck, but were stopped when Philip grabbed your wrists. 

“Take it off,” he commanded. 

You took a moment to gaze into his lust filled eyes, before turing around and undressing, first you let your hair down from the messy ponytail, you pulled your tank top over your head, then your sports bra, and once you got down to your panties Philip came behind you, pushing your hair to one side of your shoulder as he planted hot kisses along the top of your shoulder. You let out a hum when his bare chest touched your back. Philip spun you around picking you up, just to lay you onto the bed. He rested on his forearms while you lay beneath him. You rested a hand on his bicep and the other lazily pushed back his thick curls. 

His mouth began kissing at your jawline leaving a trail down your neck, then to your collarbone, down to the middle of your chest and in one swift movement his mouth latched onto your nipple. You let out a sharp gasp, pushing yourself up against him with a tug on his hair in response. Philip let out a low moan against your skin as he pressed his tongue flat against your sensitive skin he had been sucking at. His hand reached down to your heat, slipping under your panties. 

“Mmm, Philip,” you hummed when he began rubbing small circles around your clit. 

“Already so wet,”

He moved his mouth back up to capture yours. He simultaneously slipped his tongue into your mouth the moment he pushed two fingers into you. You shamelessly moaned into his mouth, tightening your grip on his bicep, digging your nails into his skin. You took your other hand and began to palm his already hardened length through his pants. With that Philip broke the kiss. He slipped your lace underwear off, pulling away from you to remove his khakis and boxers. You closed your eyes as you waited for him to slowly enter you, but not this time, he slid into you with one swift thrust. 

“Philip!!” you yelled, throwing your head back into the pillows, opening your neck to Philip.

He continued the rough pace while he bit and sucked at your neck causing you to let out breathy curses. His free hand pushed down on your hip. You pushed your chest up against him. You couldn’t help but want every part of him touching you. And it seemed like he enjoyed the closeness too.

“Fuck…”  Philip dropped his head to rest against your shoulder, his thrusts became harder.

You bit his shoulder, scratching your nails down his sides, evoking a growl from Philip.

“I’m sorr-” you began to apologize.

“Do it again, Babygirl.” Philip said in a dark tone you had never heard before. 

Hold on, does he like the pain? Does he have a-

“Yes…Daddy,” you tested the waters, nipping at his neck while you drug your nail tantalizingly slow down his shoulder blades.

“Fuck yes,” he brought his other hand up, tangling his fingers in your hair. 

Philip brought you into a kiss as he adjusted, hitting you at a new angle that felt heavenly. His tongue swirled around yours until you slowly pulled back closing your eyes in bliss, biting your lip and then releasing it as you moaned. He absolutely loved seeing you like this, completely helpless to his touch and desperate for his touch, underneath him. 

“Oh, holy sh- mmm” you were cut off by your own moan.

Soon Phillip hit a sweet spot. You reached a hand to his dark curls, pulling him closer to you. He decided to nip at your neck, reaching a hand down to your clit and rubbing it perfectly in synch with his thrusts. 

“A-ahh,” you bit down on his shoulder.

“I want you to cum for me, babygirl. You hear me?”

“Y-yes, yes, right there Daddy, don’t - mmm- don’t stop!”

You felt a familiar pressure begin to build in your stomach. Philip knew you were close, as he felt your chest rise and fall against his. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him as close to you as possible. He rocked his hips hard against you to assure that he was hitting your g-spot just right. He felt your knees tighten on either side of his body. You began to shake a little.

“Oh god-”

“Come on baby,” Philip slowly licked across the side of your neck.

That sent you over the edge, your toes curled, you gripped onto him for dear life as the room began to spin. You closed your eyes, and your mouth fell open a little. You felt the wave of pleasure rush throughout your body.

“Daddy…” your whispered shakily into his neck as he helped you ride out your orgasm.

“Babygirl,” He gave a gentle tug on your hair.

That was enough to do it for Philip, you felt him twitch inside you as his thrusts became sporadic, you helped him get the most pleasure out of his orgasm by dragging your nails across his skin and breathing his name in between sloppy kisses to his neck, until his motion stopped and he was breathless above you.

“Damn, baby.” Philip said as he pulled out and laid down beside you. 

The room was quiet as the two of you tried to catch your breath. 

“So,” you broke the silence, turning onto your side, facing Philip with an excited smile, “You have a pain AND a daddy kink?”

“…Yes…” Philip hesitated.

“WHY haven’t we been having this kind of sex?!” You asked, as he put his hands over his face with a groan, “Philip! That was AMAZING!” you rested a hand on his chest.

“Okay, listen, I just never wanted to force myself on you, but seeing you with that gorgeous shine covering your skin and your muscles all tensed it was just…very attractive okay?! I like your natural beauty….”

“I think the kinks are hot, but really?…That’s what did it for you?” you laughed.

“Hey! I bet it would work on you too!” he defended himself, dropping his hands to his chest, gently lying on top of your hand.

“Oh yeah, sure,” you rolled your eyes, “it’s just sweat baby, nothin’ special.” You kissed him once more before getting up and heading off to the shower.

One week later:

It was Sunday, your off day from running with Theo. You had decided to sleep in, but one thing was off. Philip wasn’t by your side. He was usually softly snoring next to you. Slipping on one of Philip’s t-shirts, you figured it was safe to wander around in that and your underwear. You checked the apartment and didn’t find him anywhere, where could he be? you thought to yourself. Maybe he went to go see his family off at the airport? you reasoned with yourself as you went to the fridge in search for breakfast, but turned around when you heard the apartment door open. 

To your shock, Philip walked in. He was wearing basketball shorts low on his waist, his hair slightly dampened and his bare chest was rising and falling at a faster than normal pace. Did he go…running? You didn’t realize it, but your lips had parted slightly when you saw him, as you stood with a hand still on the refrigerator door.

“Hey, baby!” Philip walked over and kissed you on the cheek, “Can I get in there?” He pointed to the fridge door.

“Oh, y-yeah.” You answered him without ever taking your eyes off him as you backed away from the fridge and rested against the counter behind him. 

Damn him. He was right, there was just something about that natural glisten that spread all over his body. Your eyes trailed all over his body, you bit your lip when you noticed the red marks that went all the way down his back. His muscles were tense and accentuated, perfectly showing his body off in full display. He turned to face you. Your gaze fell to a drop of sweat making its way down his abs.

“What’s up?” he smirked with a teasing tone, walking over to you, locking you between him and the counter. Your hands instinctively rested on his chest. Your heart was racing, you stared up into those brown eyes. “Like what you see, Babygirl?”

“Y-” you paused, looking at your hands as you spread your fingers out a little more across his toned chest. He tilted your chin up with his hand, “Yes…Daddy.” 

You had found your breakfast.