you don't understand how much i wanted to be there sigh

How them 2000s live actions kids shows be
  • Normal Girl: *internally* I'm just a normal high school girl. I suck at math. I hate my parents. When someone asks me about my opinion on complex socioeconomic issues, I just go "What the heck!?" and start "texting" or something like that. My life would be just like yours, except for one thing: I have an amazing power... I can talk to cetaceans!
  • *at the docks, a bell tolls as our normal protagonist hears the voices of cetaceans bubbling in her mind*
  • Normal Girl: *staring deeply into the ocean*
  • Best Friend: Ahoy! What're you doing?
  • Normal Girl: Just staring into the oceanic abyss, thinking about how much I hate my parents. *internally* I have to keep my ability to speak to cetaceans secret or else... uh...
  • Best Friend: Haha, I feel that, friend. What a colorful life we teens live, our seaside environment awakening a rumbling darkness within ourselves of which we mull on our own with nothing but the unbounding depths of the ocean as our one escape. An escape which serves to only maim our fragile egos with newfound adolescent anxieties.
  • Normal Girl: What are you even talking about?
  • Best Friend: I don't know. I haven't slept in a week. Let's go to the mall.
  • *at the mall*
  • Normal Girl: *internally* My town might as well be called Lamesville. Nothing ever happens here, but the mall can be pretty fun. It's only place in the whole town with anything in it that isn't fish or excessive amounts of woodlice.
  • Best Friend: ...So I'd just dance and I'd dance until my feet broke. When that happened, I'd just get up and dance on my broken feet. And I did this until they were raw and blood was everywhere. I kept waking up in the morning extremely exhausted after this dream. I decided to record myself one night and it turns out I was dancing in my sleep. I haven't slept since I saw that. *leans in close to the normal girl* I'm afraid of what I'll do in my sleep.
  • Normal Girl: Wow, sounds weird... I guess. *sips coffee*
  • Best Friend: OMIGAWD! It's Chad Alphakid. He's coming this way!
  • *the normal girl and her best friend squee*
  • Normal Girl: *externally* That's Chad Alphakid. Who is he? He's only the hottest most coolest boy in this entire lame city. I've been crushing on him since I was like twelve.
  • Chad: Uh, okay.
  • Normal Girl: Did I just say that out loud!?
  • Chad: *sits at the table* Listen, I don't care what you or your friend think of me. I need help!
  • Best Friend: Have you murdered somebody?
  • Normal Girl: Do you need a girlfriend?
  • Chad: No, it's the ocean. The sound of her waves crashing against the shore is like a faultless siren song. There isn't a single night where I don't have visions of floating within her cold embrace. The allure of her boundless depths beckon to me like a lover. I'm afraid that if I don't get help soon, I'll find myself taken away by her to a fate unknown.
  • Normal Girl: *internally* Great, this is a chance to finally use my power to speak to cetaceans to my benefit! *externally* But why do you need us to help you?
  • Chad: You guys are the biggest fucking degenerate weirdos in this washed up town. If anyone knows how to deal with this, it's you two.
  • Best Friend: Haha, truuuuuu!
  • Normal Girl: I'm not a weirdo! I'm a completely normal girl.
  • Chad: Dude, you fucking talk to fish.
  • Best Friend: You do talk to fish.
  • Normal Girl: I don't talk to fish! *internally* I talk to cetaceans, they're mammals, not fish. Also, that's supposed to be a secret, dammit!
  • *at the shore*
  • Chad: Ah, Mother Ocean! Take me!! Take me!!! *attempts to run into the ocean, but gets held back by the normal girl and her best friend*
  • Best Friend: Simmer down, aqualad!
  • Chad: Why did you fools take me here, if not to release into the embrace of sweet Mother Ocean!?
  • Normal Girl: We talked it over and we decided that the best way to get you over your obsession is make you hate the ocean.
  • Chad: Does it involve you talking to fish?
  • Normal Girl: Yes, I mean no. I mean, fuck! Cetaceans aren't fish.
  • *the normal girl sits at the edge of shore, her eyes rolls up in her head as she proceeds to make fucked up porpoise sounds*
  • Normal Girl: *falls over limp*
  • Best Fried: She died.
  • Chad: Does this mean that I'm free to wade into Mother Ocean and meet my fate among her ever chaotic waes?
  • Best Friend: *lets chad go* Yeah, dude. I'm too far gone to care about things anymore.
  • Chad: *strips off all of his clothes* Good. I now understand that there was no avoiding this. This was always a forgone conclusion. My fate is with the waves. Sayonara, weird best friend guy.
  • Chad: *runs into the ocean*
  • Best Friend: *kicks the normal girl's body* Guess she really is dead.
  • Best Friend: *walks home as the night encroaches* My closest friend is dead, and Chad is probably dead too. I wonder where my fate lies?
  • Best Friend: *yawns* Maybe I should go to sleep and just dance myself to death finally. No, I don't think I could go to sleep even if I wanted to anymore. I'm probably going to die from exhaustion in the next few days, not having felt rest or comfort again. Or maybe I'll just stay awake forever. I feel like I was supposed to have an epiphany here, or some type of awakening. But, there's nothing. I feel like everything I've ever done has been pointless. God, I'm just really tired.
  • *back at the shore*
  • Porpoise: *beaches itself*
  • *a gray fleshy version of the normal girl crawls halfway out of the porpoises mouth*
  • Normal Girl: There goes my corpse! *drags her weird porpoise body towards the corpse* Why did I die with such a dumb expression on my face? Lame! I hope Chad didn't see.
  • Normal Girl: *looks around with beady eyes* No one's here. I can finally do this.
  • Normal Girl: *kisses her dead body on the lips* Blargh!
  • Normal Girl: *spits out blood* I bit my tongue when I died. Gross. I guess I can cross making out with my dead body and becoming a mermaid off of my bucket list, though.
  • Normal Girl: *sighs*

A quick Clexa AU fic list as requested by anon

This is rather chaotic as I’ve put it together real quick and I’ve plenty favorites - I might add more as I remember or as I go through my reading (some are finished, some are on-going). For now though …

Keep reading

The One With Stevie's Book

Steve x Reader

Summary: A tiny discovery of Steven’s interest leads to a very surprising turns of events.

Word Count: 1,615

Warnings: steve being a naughty little shit, slight nsfw content (nothing much, i promise) and detailed kissing  

A/N: i was watching season 7 episode 2 of friends “the one with rachel’s book” (hence the name of this fic) when this idea came in my mind.

i hope y'all enjoy this quick one short!

as always feedback is greatly appreciated!

Masterlist here 

Keep reading

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

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


Connor Murphy was a lot of things.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was going to be a long two weeks.

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t yell.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great! Wanna show her the room?”

Connor grinned crookedly. “Follow me, kid.”

——

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

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

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

“Your room, my lady.”

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m fi–”

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

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

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

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

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

We were very, very naked.

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

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

This was how it started, I realized.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Zoe–”

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

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

I was alone.

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

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

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

And boy, were they pretty.

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

Besides, you know, the obvious.

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

Which meant Zoe was in trouble.

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s right here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I–”

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

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

“Okay.”

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He frowned. “I don’t need the bed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know,” I said quietly.

“Know what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Connor Murphy was nothing to be ashamed of.

And now it was too late to be his friend.

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

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

I froze.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing in here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I pretended we were friends.

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

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

Connor deserved to know.

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

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

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

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

I shook my head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He swallowed. “That was two summers ago.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He cared about me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I’m not.”

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

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

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

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

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

I didn’t sleep.

——

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

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

“You’re awake.”

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

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I frowned. “What about it?”

“We won’t see each other again.”

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

He frowned. “You’d come to see me?”

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

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

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

Which wasn’t okay.

——

“This is such bullshit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Time to go back and face reality.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sor–”

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

“What?” I screeched, frustrated.

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

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

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

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

——

The panic set in at twilight.

We were running.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I nodded. “I’m really sorry, Connor.”

“Don’t be sorry. Start walking.”

——

It was an accident.

It was dark.

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

It was an accident.

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

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

“There’s no dry wood. I checked.”

“Nothing?”

“No, okay? Nothing. That’s it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck,” he growled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Something cut my hand!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t–I wouldn’t ask you to–”

“I’m not sucking you off!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ew,” he said. “Please don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God, he’s an idiot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Connor–”

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

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

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

That was the last thing I remembered.

——-

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

Connor was gone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They said the same about you.”

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

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

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

It wasn’t fair.

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

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

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

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

“I do a lot of pot.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I wasn’t talking about that kiss.”

Connor Murphy!

~From Sour to Sweet~

When you find a new friend in the strangest way.

cat hybrid!yoongi/reader

Word Count: 5,704

What were you thinking?

You don’t know what possessed you to go to a hybrid adoption facility and want to pick out a hybrid of your own. You felt bad that you could only choose one of the many hybrids presented before you. All were of various species accentuated with different colors, shapes, and sizes.

“You can go in if you want.” The employee next to you responds, having spotted you looking at the hybrids through the glass window.

The room was pretty spacious but you were afraid that if you went inside you would try and take them all home with you. It looked like a cross between a playground and recreational room. There were beds for them to sleep, a TV off to the side, and lots of blankets and pillows.

“If there’s one you want to interact with personally, we have rooms available for you, if you’re not comfortable going inside with all of them. It can get overwhelming sometimes.”

You watched all the hybrids for a bit. There were a couple of rabbits running around in a game of chase, bounding through the other hybrids as well as hopping over stray toys and scattered furniture pieces. The foxes were playing with a soccer ball, rolling it back and forth and a few of them even went to mess with the other hybrids nearby. Literally all of the dog hybrids were play wrestling each other and you could see tufts of fur flying through the air. Most of the cats were either asleep or lazily tossing balls of yarn here and there.

You notice a small white cat hybrid tucked away from everyone else, including the other cats, curled up in a ball high on top of one of the shelves. He wasn’t sleeping, rather he was lying there and observing all the other hybrids with a smidge of boredom adorning his features, white tail flicking lazily back and forth like a pendulum. His white ears contrasted the black locks of his hair as they twitched to each of the sounds. You noticed that he looked…lonely, yet there was a hint of sadness somewhat hidden in his eyes, and your heart ached at the sight.

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touken’s wedding night headcanons ((mini-fic)) 💖💍

i’ve said on my twitter (you should follow me there as well! 👀 ) that i was going to write a fic about their wedding night, but the truth is that the plot itself is extremely generic, the structure of the fic feels too weak for me to get inspired and start writing, so i decided to write down some of the headcanons that i have for it instead, this could be considered as part of my mini-fics series (read those here!), but in the end this is just a list of all the headcanons for their special night… although at the end i got a bit carried away and it ended up looking like a fanfic 😂 so i don’t know anymore…  enjoy!! ///


Preview:

“This is what I’ve chosen, Kaneki,” she weeps quietly, feeling his lips on her skin. She’s smirking as she cries. “I want this, I want this so badly, and I’m really happy today, I really am… y-you have no idea how badly I wan—”

“I know,” he whispers, quieting her with a kiss. “I know.”

They stay silent for a while, kissing on the lips, kissing each other’s hands, cuddling until Touka feels her body slowly falling into slumber. She’s not quite asleep yet, she can still hear Kaneki’s words whispering “I love you” to her, firmly and desperate, he wants her to hear him. And she does.

She does.

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Two Lies, One Truth (NSFW)

Summary: During a “two lies, one truth” with the Winchester, reader lets out an intimate confession.
Word counting: 1.1k words
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Warnings: Insecure reader. Smut. Fluff. Gif isn’t mine,
A/N: This here goes to all my lovely girls insecure with their breasts. You are all beautiful just the way you are.

“I’m colourblind. I’ve never had sex dressed. I’ve smoked weed during college.” Sam leant down.

You tilted your head, trying to figure out the truth by his face expression.

“Colourblind one is a lie.” Dean drank a sip from his beer.

You three were playing two lies one truth to pass time, and although the brothers weren’t counting wins, they had gotten far more rights than you.

“You’ve never tried weed.” You decided.

Sam was too perfect to do this kind of stuff.

“Wrong.” He laughed, slightly drunk.

“It can’t be!” You looked at him. “Sam!”

Dean laughed out loud and the two looked at you, waiting.

“So…” You tried to think and was far too drunk to remember you should keep some secrets to yourself. “I look terrible naked, I’ve had sex with a girl, I’ve had a threesome.”

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everyone is gay: the musical // magnus & even, t+

aka: magnus has an awakening and even is unfortunate enough to be near it.
(for ceecee aka @westiris, thank u for supporting my impulsiveness love u)

“I gotta ask you something.”

Magnus blurts it out over lunch one day when it’s just him and Even sitting at the table. Even doesn’t even have to look up from his phone to know that Magnus is staring intently at him, hands in his lap as he waits for Even to tell him, “go ahead, lay it on me, I’m a human search engine.”

“What’s up, Magnus,” he all but sighs instead, tossing his phone onto the table.

Magnus doesn’t even hesitate before beginning with “So you’re bisexual,” and Even’s patience is already compromised.

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anonymous asked:

Hi!!! I was wondering if you could do how rfa+v+Saeran would react to seeing old self harm scars on MC or MC relapsing? I am almost 1 year clean from Self harming but today is one of those bad days I get urges to do it. If you don't feel comfortable doing this it's okay :) Hope you have a good day and keep working hard 💪🏼❤

i’m so proud of you for staying clean so long, i know how hard it is!! i have scars myself from 1-2 years ago, so this was comforting for me to write as well :) i hope it helped you feel a bit better, remember that you deserve being happy! ❤ i’m always here if you need someone to talk to 


Trigger warning: self harm


Zen (this turned out really long whoops)

  • A lot of his fans were jealous of you, so you got a lot of hate for being “to ugly and fat for Zen”
  • You were home alone as he was at rehearsal, so he couldn’t scold you for looked down at your thighs in disgust
  • They were faint, but the old scars on them gave you an idea. You hadn’t done it in a long time, but you remembered that it did feel calming to a certain degree
  • You went to the bathroom, popped out a blade from your razor, took a deep breath and let yourself feel that familiar burning
  • Suddenly you heard the front door open and Zen’s voice telling you he was home early
  • You scrambled to find something to wipe the blood away with, and ended up just messily wiping it away with a paper towel before pulling on a pair of his sweatpants and going out to greet him
  • He smiled when he saw you, then frowned
  • “Princess, I feel rude to ask, but are you on your period? You’ve got blood on your pants”
  • Shocked, you looked down and saw that the cuts appearantely were too deep for your messy wiping, so there was quickly growing blood spots on your legs
  • Zen was no stranger to people with bad mental health around him as he was a public figure, so he quickly suspected what you had done
  • When he saw that the spots got bigger his fears were confirmed, and you saw his entire face fall
  • “I-I can explain…”
  • He cupped your face and looked straight into your eyes with the saddest look you had ever seen 
  • “Listen here… I know a lot of my fans don’t treat you right, is that it?”
  • His worried stare was too intense, so you looked down with tears in your eyes and just nodded
  • He sighed and pulled you close to him, kissing your head
  • “I love you so much, it hurts me too… But harming yourself won’t do anything good, you understand that? Can I see..?”
  • Hesitantely, you nodded again and pulled down the pants so he could see, and he got down on his knees and started kissing your thighs, not caring that they were bloody
  • “I love every single part of you, you understand that? Let’s go clean and wrap this up, I will protect you. Even if it’s from yourself”


Yoosung

  • He convinced you to cook with him
  • You were supposed to make cookies, but the only thing you managed to make was a total mess
  • By the time you finally got them into the oven, you both had dough and flour all over from the food war you had
  • He offered to clean some up from you, and when you agreed he blushed and kissed you
  • When you smiled into the kiss because he tasted like cookie dough, he gained confidence and slowly pushed you back to the wall, where he pinned your wrists over your head
  • You moaned softly in suprise as he wasn’t usually this dominant and it was really hot I’m always a slut for dominant Yoosung
  • Wanting to see what effect he had on you he pulled away for just a second, when his eyes were pulled to where he was holding your wrists
  • The sleeves you usually made sure were always covering your scars had rolled down to your elbows, revealing all of them
  • You saw his eyes go from filled with lust to filled with worry, and you looked away from him in shame
  • “They’re all old… Right?”
  • You nodded and he sighed relieved, before he hugged you tight
  • “You mean so much for me, I don’t want you to ever feel like that again. Please talk to me if you feel bad, okay? Can you promise me that?”
  • You agreed and he kissed your head
  • “I think it’s time for cookies and cuddles”


Jaehee

  • You had such a crush on her, but she was either really oblivious or just didn’t like you back
  • No matter what the reason was, it really hurt and you couldn’t help but feel insecure when all of your flirting got turned down
  • You really didn’t want to stoop so low as to go back to your old self harm habits, but it was so hard
  • In addition to the fact that you lived with her, the stress of running a café and your parents not accepting that you had a crush on a girl, it all got too much for you
  • One day when she was grocery shopping, you couldn’t help but find a small knife in the kitchen, locking your bedroom door and resume your old habit
  • You tried to keep them relatively shallow so they would heal quicker and lower your risk of getting caught, but once you started you found it hard to stop
  • You sobbed softly but because of that you didn’t hear Jaehee return from the store
  • Not finding you in the couch where she left you, she wandered around the appartment untill she heard you and stopped in front of your room
  • “MC? What’s wrong?”
  • When you didn’t answer she got worried, found a spare key and unlocked the door with a warning
  • You didn’t even bother trying to hide what you were doing, you just hung your head in shame as she gasped in shock
  • “W-what do you think you’re doing? Give me that knife!”
  • She quickly took it from you, ran to the bathroom to get a first aid kit and found you full on crying on the bed
  • Putting bandages on your wrists she softly said “Shh… I don’t know why you did this and you don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to, but please know that this isn’t going to make anything better”
  • When this just made you cry harder, she kissed your newly bandaged wrist
  • “I… I care way too much about you to see you like this, you should know that. Please come to me if you ever feel like this, okay? I can’t ever lose my reason for happiness”


Jumin

  • Whenever the two of you made out, you would always stop him when his hands started roaming under your shirt
  • Which he thought was fair, considering that your relationship was still new and you probably just weren’t comfortable enough with him yet
  • A few weeks after you started dating he offered to take you on a vacation, figuring you needed it after the stress of the party and hacker and all that
  • With Elizabeth the 3rd safely at V’s house and a mansion by a private beach rented for the weekend, he wanted to spend some time alone with you
  • He was suprisingly fond of the beach and wanted you to take you swimming there, but you kept declining
  • Kind of upset, he asked if there was any spesific reason why
  • You shrugged it off and said that you just weren’t in the mood, that you were tired and wanted to nap instead
  • He encouraged you to do as you pleased, not showing how hurt he was that you declined his offer
  • An hour or so after you had fallen asleep, he got bored and went to check on you and saw you sleeping, your shirt riled up revealing dozens of scars on your belly
  • His heart broke when he realized that was probably why you were so insecure about intimacy and going swimming
  • Careful not to wake you up, he hovered over you on bed and kissed your stomach
  • Despite his efforts you still woke up, and squeeled suprised when you saw him practially praising your biggest insecurity
  • “Kitten, I don’t ever want to see you do this again, but please understand that I love everything about you and you have nothing to be ashamed of. You’re like a tiger, these stripes show that you are strong. Promise to not hide yourself from me anymore, okay?”


707

  • Yet again he was doubting your love and pushing you away
  • He yelled when you tried to hug him, not knowing that the reason why you were clingy was that you were feeling like shit and needed to be comforted
  • You knew you were overreacting when you stopped by the bathroom to get a razor before returning to your shared bed (that he rarely used), but it just hurt so much that he didn’t trust you even after months of living together
  • Taking a deep breath, you pulled the leg of your pants and traced the outline if your old scars on your shin with the razor blade
  • Seven did realize how much he had hurt you, and just to be sure he checked the security camera he had installed in your room
  • When he saw that you were hurting himself he rose from his chair and ran to the bedroom, desperate to stop you
  • “Stop what you’re doing right now!”
  • You looked at him with tears in your eyes and yelled “so now you care?!”
  • With a firm look he pulled up the sleeve of his hoodie, showing his own scars and cuts
  • Taken back, you looked confused at him
  • He just smiled sad
  • “I know life is hard, okay? I know I am a shitty boyfriend, a shitty brother, a shitty person. But that doesn’t mean you are, do you understand that? It might not seem like it right now, but I really do love you. Like, I really love you. Can we make a deal? If you try to never do it again, so will I”
  • You nodded and hugged him, both of you apologizing for not being there for each other


V

  • Being practically blind, he depened a lot on his touch
  • Because of this, he had really sensitive finger tips
  • As weeks passed and you got closer to the handsome photographer, you let him touch and explore more and more of you
  • His new favorite hobby was to just run his hands over your smooth skin, trying to picture exactly what you looked like
  • During a particularly steamy makeout session you were on his lap, his hand travelling up your thighs where he could feel raised lines on your otherwise close to perfect skin
  • Pulling away from the kiss and raising an eyebrow questioningly, he kept tracing the lines
  • You hesitated before you admitted that you had self harmed, and he asked you if you had any other scars
  • Nodding despite his lack of sight, you took his hand and placed it on your wrist so he could feel them
  • He smiled sad and kissed your wrist
  • “You don’t have any fresh, do you?”
  • When you confirmed that you didn’t, he held you closer and kissed your nose
  • “I like everything about you, you know? You’re human, bad things are bound to happen sometimes. You got through it though, and I’m proud of you for that. Please remember that”


Saeran/Unknown

  • He didn’t like to admit it, but something about you pulled him towards you
  • The way you always put up with his bursts of anger and sadness and comforted him, made him care for you more and more as time passed
  • So when he saw you sleeping on the couch, his first reacting was to smile as you looked cute and carefree
  • And as he did find you quite attractive (not that he would ever admit that), he couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over your sleeping body
  • When he saw the scars and cuts on your wrist where your shirt had riled up your arms, he got mad
  • ?? Who had dared to hurt someone as nice as you??
  • He woke you up suprisingly gently, wanting to know who he needed to kill
  • Disoriented from sleeping, you said that he didn’t need to worry but he refused to give up, so he asked his brother
  • He admitted that he had seen you harm yourself but hadn’t really figured a way to confront you about it yet
  • Saeran got even more mad and walked back to the couch where you had gotten up and was now lazily stretching
  • “Why the fuck are you hurting yourself? Explain!” he growled and pushed you against the wall
  • Stuttering and ashamed you explained that it was a way to deal with sadness, but he didn’t get it at all
  • “Giving yourself another type of pain will just make you more sad, you idiot! God, what’s wrong with you?”
  • Hearing the guy you were crushing on saying this to you and literally growling made you tear up, and you saw his expression change to one of sorrow
  • “I-I’m sorry, okay? It’s just… You’ve helped me so much and I want to return the favor, but I have no idea how to. You… You are special, I don’t want you to be sad”
  • You met his eyes and saw how sincere he was, and was suprised when he hugged you tight
  • “Please don’t ever do it again, MC”


~jane

This fic has been on my chest for days and I’m so glad that it’s finally done!

Anyway, this is based on @kaxpha‘s lost lance au and I was so excited to write this, the au has taken over my life no kidding. It also has a second part and you can find it here on @bleusarcelle‘s blog.

I’m very proud of how this came out(for now at least) :’)

I hope you’ll like it! <3


Keith hears the moment when Shiro takes in a shaky breath as the two of them and the rest of the guests watch Allura walks down the aisle. She stands tall and proud, a big smile on her face but when she meets Keith’s eyes for a few moments, he can see the storm of emotions that they hide.

He gives her an encouraging smile before her eyes move on to Shiro. The moments their gazes lock it’s like something shifts in the room: the mood, the quiet, the air. Keith isn’t sure what changes, but it feels like a relieved sigh. It feels like Allura is saying you’re here, like Shiro is agreeing iIm here, it feels like both of them are realizing we’re here and this is happening and i’ve never been more happy before.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Your style of writing is so lovely and addicting to read! It would be amazing if we could see more of selkie!Viktor (upbeat and chatty Viktor with a tragic past is my one weakness)

aww thank you! i don’t really have the energy to write something extensive at the moment but this is what i’ve got (this would be an au where viktor is the selkie and yuuri is the human haha)


It has been a month since he found Viktor on the beach. Well, ‘found’ isn’t quite the right word for it, as Viktor had come up to him completely naked and started asking him questions about whether or not he could show him around. Yuuri had assumed the man was lost, but he had ended up taking him around the beachfront portions of Hasetsu. And getting him a towel to avoid getting arrested for public indecency. 

It has been a month and it feels like Viktor has always been here, clad in a green yukata that barely clings to his shoulders sometimes and scarfing down bowl after bowl of katsudon and helping out around Yu-Topia wherever he could. Yuuri is more than painfully aware of the repercussions of getting too attached, since for all intents and purposes this man is a stranger, and Yuuri has no business wishing he’d stay forever when clearly this must be a temporary visit from this extraordinary person. Because there’s simply nothing ordinary in the way Viktor walks like he’s floating, in the beautifully foreign cadence of his voice, in the brightness of his eyes and hair. Yuuri had been enchanted from the start – he wouldn’t have invited anyone wandering lost around his hometown to stay with him at his family’s inn, after all. 

Yuuri knows their time must be limited. This mysterious man – Viktor – is surely too good to be true. Every day Yuuri strains to hear the sounds of him in the empty banquet room next to his own, hoping to ascertain that the man had not vanished in the night. Every day he finds those worries proven false, though it doesn’t stop him from thinking it, either. Viktor must surely be getting bored of this dying little town and its little ninja castle, of the tiny shops that only run in a language that stumbles around in his mouth and close too early. He’ll leave, and Yuuri will have to return to reality, to the very difficult decisions about his skating career. But while Viktor is here, Yuuri can pretend that caring for his guest is the first priority.

“I have never seen you skate,” says Viktor this morning, just after breakfast. His eyes are bright and there’s a smudge of natto in the corner of his mouth. Yuuri wants to taste it more than his own food. “Will you show me?”

Yuuri shrugs, his gaze dropping to his own breakfast. “I’m not that good,” he says.

“There are pictures of you skating everywhere, and trophies. Someone must think you are good,” Viktor points out. Yuuri feels his ears burning. 

“I came in sixth at the Grand Prix Final,” he says.

Viktor rests his chin on his hands, surveys Yuuri with that scrutinising blue gaze. “Minako-san says that makes you the sixth best skater in the world,” he points out. 

Yuuri sighs. “Later,” he promises, and begins to drink his tea to stave off further conversation. Viktor’s smile is bright, heart-shaped. Yuuri paints it into his memory and frames it in gold. 

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Breakdown

Requested: can you do one where shawn has a mental breakdown and you have to calm him down

Originally posted by everythingshawnmendes

Your name: submit What is this?

~~~

“Y/n,” You hear Andrew’s voice shouting from the front of the bus. You don’t know why he’s yelling, but he sounds frantic.

You tell your sister, “I have to go. I’ll call you back later.” And you hang up the phone before even giving her a chance to say goodbye as you slide out of your bunk. You’re currently on tour with Shawn because he had asked you to come along, but you miss your family just like he misses his when he’s gone. Whenever Shawn’s busy working, you often take that time to call or FaceTime your family or friends back home. Shawn is currently doing his meet and greet, so you had decided to stay on the bus to talk to your sister over the phone.

As soon as your toes touch the ground, Andrew appears at the end of the hall. “Y/n, there you are!” He practically screams, which slightly startles you because you’re not very far from him, so you don’t really understand why he’s shouting so loudly. “Come with me,” He says, turning around and practically running out of the bus. You’re confused, but decide to not ask any questions as you rush after him.

“Shawn’s freaking out. I think everything’s just been too much lately.” Andrew tells you, while practically jogging into the venue.

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hmltntrsh51  asked:

OKAY BUT WHAT IF (this a request) NEWT X READER X STEPHEN SMUTFIC OKAY THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I NEED. READER CALLS BOTH OF THEM DADDY (I'm dead) If you don't want to write this just let me know. I won't be upset at all 😊

Okay guys. Here is the promised NewtxReaderxStephen fic. I wasn’t able to get every single thing y'all wanted in it. I went where inspiration took me. This is the first threesome fic I’ve ever written, so yeah…I was like ‘the fuck is going on!!’ The entire time I was writing it lmao.

Hopefully, it came out decently enough. I didn’t proofread, I’m too lazy. So if there’s embarrassing mistakes, my bad. Also!!! I was so into NewtxStephen I may have made this gayer than expected…..if you ain’t into dudexdude leave now….like right now. Lol

MASTERLIST


******

Imagine: A threesome with Newt and Stephen.

Stephen sat idly by at the table, flipping through his cards and drawings. He seemed to be looking for something important, but really all he reached for was the silver lighter he stolen off a dead German soldier’s body. In the reality of it all, he would’ve never even thought of doing such a thing, but now, so deep into this war nothing seemed to matter.

“You shouldn’t smoke so much.”

Your voice gained his attention, and he looked over at you lying on the bed next to Newt with a raised eyebrow. As if to spite you, he flicked the cap to the lighter up, never leaving your annoyed gaze as he scratched his finger over the switch and ignited his cigarette. He took one long drag, the burning sensation slowly settling his nerves.

“Go back to sleep.”

Stephen’s tone was exhausted, and you could tell he could use some sleep himself, but the lieutenant was hell bent on staying up every single night. There wasn’t much you could do though, truthfully you weren’t even supposed to be here. You spent months running from the war, you had lost your entire family, and if the German’s found you…you’d just end up right along with them. By luck or not, you came upon Stephen one night. You were hiding in the bushes before a dilapidated building, trying hard to hold your breath because you weren’t sure who was on the other side. Nothing helped though, and with a rough tug you found yourself pulled from the foliage and thrown to the ground by a British soldier. When the young man saw it was just a girl, he backed off, sighing heavily and looking back at his superior with a relieved nod. That young man, Newt, ended up becoming your lover, and in truth as handsome as he was, the very need for human affection is what drove you to him to begin with, Stephen just happened to…fall into the same relationship as you two eventually. All of you seeking the same thing, love in a time of hate.

“Don’t talk to me like that.”

You scolded, rolling your eyes and snuggling back into Newt’s chest as he tightened his grip on you. The younger soldier was asleep already, head nestled between the crook of your neck as he breathed softly. Stephen just chuckled at your hurt tone, still smoking his cigarette without a care in the world. He flipped through the pages of a newspaper, half of it burned off from the fire that happened earlier today. Still, he read what he could if only to gain any knowledge he might not already have of the war.

“Come on.”

With your hand held out, you beckoned for the lieutenant to join you both, wanting him to rest at least an hour or two. Stephen seemed reluctant, but he removed the cigarette from his mouth walking over to the bed and setting it on the ash tray. He took a seat against the headboard, one leg still off the bed as the other bent slightly and allowed you to rest your head on his knee. He ran his fingers through your hair, humming a song to himself as you closed your eyes. You reached for his other hand, curling your fingers between his in comfort. He squeezed it gently, a sign that he was still very much here in every way.

“Stop bloody singing…”

Newt groaned in frustration, his tired eyes opening to glare up at his friend and superior. Stephen just scoffed at him, clearly having no intention to do as he was asked from someone much younger than him.

“How about you bloody fuck off, Scamander.”

Newt’s lips stretched into a grin, his green eyes softening when he tilted his head to look at you instead. “Hello, darling.”

“Morning, Newt.”

You leaned back a bit, kissing his cheek affectionately before going back to resting on Stephen’s knee.

“You’re on trench duty, Scamander.”

Newt sighed into your shoulder, kissing it lovingly as he glanced up at the lieutenant.

“Yes, sir.”

You watched them both carefully, smiling at the way they spoke to one another. It was obvious they both cared about each other, and truthfully, when you weren’t around you suspected they still shared a bed together. There were multiple times you had walked in and they would quickly make a distance between themselves. You didn’t understand why they felt the need to hide it from you of all people, the intimacies you’ve all shared in this very bed was beyond the realm of normal for most these days anyway.

From the corner of your eye you could see Stephen’s hand resting on the pillow next to Newt’s head, and you had no doubt he was giving the younger soldier the same affections he had been giving you earlier when he was running his fingers between your locks.

Newt nuzzled into your neck, kissing you a bit more passionately now as he nipped at your pulse. It was all too clear to you that Stephen had ignited a certain part of Newt that only came out in the privacy of Stephen’s tent, not that you had any complaints. The love you all shared with one another was something beautiful in your eyes, twisted as it may seem to others.

“Have your fun, Scamander. Then resume your duties.”

The lieutenant smirked down at Newt, still brushing his fingertips across the younger man’s hair as he riled him up for you. Newt seemed pleased with this, and he tugged you closer to his body as he pressed his lower abdomen against your backside. You could feel the hardened heat of his crotch pressing into you, Stephen’s touch having already gotten him more than aroused.

A gasp fell from your parted lips, and you instinctively pushed back into him, wanting more friction as the warmth between your legs began to build.

“Newt…”

You half moaned his name out, still gripping Stephen’s hand in yours as he encouraged Newt to keep going. Which Newt was more than happy to do. He sucked just below your earlobe, knowing after many nights spent together that you were overly sensitive in that spot. He smiled into your heated skin, loving the way you squirmed in his hold. His hands slowly trailed down your front, unbuttoning the top of your dress as he slipped a hand inside.

The minute his roughened fingertips brushed across your nipple you arched back into him, letting out a long moan that conveyed just how badly you suddenly needed him. Newt pressed his lips into your cheek, whispering out sweet words as he ground his hips into you. The pressure alone was enough to make him want to cum, but Stephen scolded him to stop.

“Not yet.”

The lieutenant slid down the headboard, pushing himself up as he found a comfortable spot and laid down next to you. He turned on his side, now sandwiching you between both men the very heat from their bodies making you yearn for so much more.

You gripped Stephen’s uniform, pulling him down so he could kiss you. His lips smashed into yours, tongues tangling and fighting with one another for dominance that he easily gained over you.

Newt watched you both kiss, his breath hitching in his throat as he tried to control the raging desires he was feeling, but how could he when he saw just how needy you both were for this. Newt groaned deeply in want, going back to kissing your neck as he slid his hand up your thigh, pushing the material of your dress up as he exposed your panties. His finger dipped beneath the hem of them, pulling them off slowly as he bit down on your shoulder. His cock was aching terribly behind his pants, and if Stephen wasn’t going to further his relations with you yet, then he would.

Newt pulled away, the sound of his belt coming undone alerting you both. You looked back at him, biting down your lip as you waited for the younger man to take you. Stephen just chuckled at Newt’s eagerness, and he watched intently as his soldier pulled himself free of his restraints.

Newt’s cock was swollen with need, the head of it already leaking drops of cum as he stroked himself. He looked up at Stephen, a silent agreement between the two of them as Stephen grabbed your thigh and lifted it up. He laid it against his own leg, letting you wrap it around his waist as Newt settled himself behind you.

Stephen kissed you on the lips, smirking into them as you gasped loudly, and he used this to his advantage as he pushed his tongue into your mouth. You moaned into the kiss, cupping the lieutenant’s cheek as Newt had begun to thrust into you. His movements were quick, but hard enough to make your legs quiver from the force. The sound of his skin hitting you filled the room, and you whined and moaned into Stephen’s face at the feeling of being completely filled by the younger soldier.


Stephen licked his lips in arousal, eyeing his soldier as he fucked you senseless. If he could just sit and watch this forever he would, but his own need was becoming apparent to him. He needed some form of relief and he was going to get it from one of you. He inched his hand down, snaking it between your body and his as he found your clit. He rubbed at it, creating a rhythm that had you practically screaming at all the sensations.

You threw your head back against Newt’s shoulder, crying out as your body began to stiffen from all the pleasure. Stephen’s fingers worked you wildly, and Newt just kept slamming into you from behind like it was the last time he’d get to make love to you. It wasn’t something you thought you could handle for long, and if Stephen kept that pace up you would be finished in no time.

“Tell the lieutenant how much you like that…”

Newt grunted out, licking the shell of your ear as he smiled over at Stephen. The older man laughed at that, his eyes focused on his soldier as they both awaited your response. You mumbled out a sentence that none of them understood, but you were far too gone to respond coherently.

“You know, it’s considered insubordination if you ignore your superiors.”

Stephen rasped out, his nose pressing into your cheek as he quickened the movement of his fingers.

“I….fuck…”

Newt grinned at your language, not used to hearing you talk like that except for in these moments. But, the very sound of your seductive voice made him just want to move harder, to give you so much pleasure you couldn’t walk for a week or two. He leaned over towards Stephen, his lips inches from his lieutenant’s as he spoke.

“Get inside her…”

Stephen gritted his teeth, the overwhelming desire to kiss the younger man clawing at the back of his mind. He eyed him warily, unsure of what to do, but he simply nodded, removing his hand from between you two and undoing his own belt. You watched with a shade of red on your cheeks as Stephen brought his fingers to his lips, ready to lap off whatever juices from you clung to them. But, Newt grabbed his hand, capturing Stephen’s attention as he leaned forward, green eyes gazing up at his lieutenant as he wrapped his warm tongue around them. He sucked down on Stephen’s fingers, bobbing his head, mimicking exactly what he’s done to him before in a much more intimate setting.

The lieutenant stared in disbelief, not really sure how he felt about Newt doing this in front of you. But, with that sweet mouth sliding around his fingers like that he wasn’t sure he truly cared anymore.

“Scamander…”

Stephen’s voice was heavy with desire, and you smiled widely, hiding your face between the lieutenant’s neck. You wondered when they’d get around to just letting themselves seek pleasure in each other even when with you. As far as you were concerned, this only made these moments that more pleasurable.

Stephen groaned at the loss of that tongue flicking around his fingers, and he watched as Newt licked his lips, teasing him further. But, he kept his wits about him, swallowing that lump in his throat as he shifted closer. He spread your legs wider, giving himself room to join Newt in pleasuring you.

Both men kissed you, one on the lips, the other on your shoulder trying to distract you from the initial feeling of Stephen pushing inside of you as well.

“Ahh!”

You clutched Stephen’s jacket, the feeling of being stretched by them both causing a jolt of pain to shoot up your spine. And yet, the idea of it all was enough to make you ease up, wanting to feel both their cocks thrust into you and bring you to completion.

“Bloody hell-”

Newt growled as Stephen’s cock joined his inside your warmth, the feeling of the older man’s length rubbing into his making him want to lose it right then. But, he muffled his moans into your back, grabbing a hold of your hips as he made you lay still.

You let out the breath you were holding, whimpering out as you dropped your forehead against Stephen’s chest. Both men were panting by now, wanting to move but not wanting to hurt you all the same.

“Are you alright?” Stephen whispered into your ear, nuzzling your cheek. You smiled up at him, nodding your head softly as you begged them both to move.

Newt looked at Stephen, his breath quickening when the lieutenant’s eyes met his. They slowly started to move inside you, finally syncing their rhythms as they thrust up and down. By this point, the room was filled with the sound of all your moans and groans, each of you giving into the sensations and wanting more. Newt reached over and grasped Stephen’s jacket, looking at him with such a passion as he pulled him forward.

Their lips crashed into each other, and Stephen finally caved into his desires as he forced his tongue into Newt’s mouth. They kept up their pace, sliding in and out of you as they massaged each other’s tongues. You were far too busy moaning and mumbling out both their names you didn’t even pay attention to them. You just needed to feel that moment of bliss your body so desperately longed for.

Stephen cupped Newt’s cheek, brushing his thumb along his cheekbone as he growled deep into the kiss. He had made up his mind somewhere, that once he was done with you he’d be doing the same thing to his soldier.

“Fuck…” Stephen gasped against Newt’s mouth, shutting his eyes tightly as your walls clenched down around them both. Newt was in no better shape, and he panted out a curse as he came inside of you.

Your body shook with waves of ecstasy, mouth hanging open in a silent scream as your orgasm began to wear off. You sagged back against Newt’s chest, his lips connecting with your sweaty forehead as he smiled.

“Good show, love.”

You giggled, looking back at him as he slowly pulled out of you. Stephen grinned at the younger man’s words, holding your hips gently as he did the same and slipped out.

The lieutenant was still very much in need of relief, but he didn’t press either of you for it. He laid back against the bed, smiling in his current state of bliss.

You looked down at him, noticing his length was still at attention, and you wanted him to reach that perfect high Newt and you already had. With a smirk, you tilted your head back, whispering something to the soldier that Stephen didn’t quite hear or pay attention to.

You lifted yourself up, untangling yourself from Newt’s arms as you straddled the lieutenant’s head. Stephen raised his eyebrow at you, lips lifting at the corner in amusement.

“What are you planning?

You grabbed the headboard in both hands, spreading your legs more and putting your sex on full display for Stephen to see.

“Come on, lieutenant…”

He chuckled at your needy nature, but he ran his hands up your thighs, getting a hold of your waist as he lifted his head. He opened his mouth, tongue coming out as he wasted no time in licking a path up your cunt.

Your nails dug into the headboard, head tilted back as he licked and lapped at your wet folds. Newt looked up at you, smiling when you winked down at him. He rose to his hands and knees, climbing down the bed and hovering just over Stephen’s lap. He glanced up at his superior, licking his lips before he leaned down.

Stephen sucked around your clit, pulling you down more onto his face as you rolled your hips above him. He hungrily buried his face into you, his cock only twitching with need. He was going to reach down and finish himself off, but he released your swollen clit from his lips and gasped out in pleasure.

His head fell onto the pillow, eyes staring up at you as Newt licked around the head of his length.

“Scamander what are-”

“Shh.”

You smiled down at Stephen, shushing away his slight discomfort as if to say you knew he wanted this. He simply chuckled, his laugh quickly turning into a drawn out moan as Newt hollowed his cheeks and sucked around him. Stephen closed his eyes, enjoying the heat of the younger man’s mouth around his cock. He gripped your waist once more, pulling you back down and continuing to eat you out. He growled into your heat, bucking his hips up into Newt’s mouth. He was growing closer by the minute, and he muffled as many moans of his as he could against your inner thighs, but you knew he wouldn’t last long. Newt definitely knew how to work his mouth.

The younger man pressed his tongue against the underside of Stephen’s length, his hand curling around him to stroke up and down. The feeling of both lips and hand was slowly drawing Stephen into a mess, and it wasn’t long before you came again, riding out your orgasm astride the lieutenant’s face. He lapped up your juices eagerly, making sure to completely get it all before he too succumbed to his desires.

Newt slid his lips off Stephen, swallowing his seed before wiping at his chin. He took his spot next to you both again, all of you completely spent and sweaty from your love session.

You stretched out on the bed, muscles beginning to relax as the endorphins rushed through them. You curled up next to Stephen, closing your eyes as sleep began to claim you.

The lieutenant kissed your temple, reaching over to the small desk he had and grabbing his cigarette and lighter. He lit the end of it, enjoying the long drag he took. He blew out the smoke, curling his arm around you and tapping Newt on the arm. The soldier looked down at Stephen’s hand, taking the cigarette that was being offered to him.

Newt placed it between his lips, letting it hang there for a second as he rose up and buttoned up his pants again. He slicked his hair back, grabbing his hat from the table and placing it back on his head. He took a quick puff of the cigarette, before handing it back to his superior, and bowing slightly.

“Sir.” He spoke up, giving his regards before heading towards the exit of the tent to get back to work. Stephen watched him go with a smile on his face, knowing he’d be coming around tonight again.


*****


Wowwwww that’s quite possibly the smuttiest shit I’ve written. Lol Ugh. I don’t even know if any of that made sense…..I was so confused half the time. If it did make sense and you liked it, let me know 😂

Dearly Beloved

Originally posted by frosya

Read the first here! ~http://ofnifflersandkings.tumblr.com/post/158907528077/lovely-lovely-man

You awoke that morning to a beautiful spring day, the sun peaked through soft clouds as they rolled lazily in the sky of gentle blue. You could see the wind shake the leaves of the trees and the golden ends of the barley field next to your home.

“The flowers look wonderful this spring, Miss Fontaine,” You complimented the elderly florist as you examined her daffodils. “And what a lovely shade of yellow.”

“Thank you, dear.” She beamed proudly as you took two and placed them in your basket.

“And how are the lilies?” You asked as she reached under the counter for some shears to cut the stems of her fresh roses.

“Oh just fine, though I still think they’ll need a week or two to fully bloom,” Miss Fontaine saw the minor look of disappointment in your face before laughing softly. “You’ll be the first to hear when they’re ready.”

You smiled at her generosity. “Thank you, have you tried-”

Your words were caught off as the front door of the florist shop opened, a little bell chiming as it did. You whirled around to find a completely out of breath Lefou with his hands on his knees as he huffed the breath back into his lungs.

“Lefou? Are you alright?” You asked as you gingerly placed your hand on his shoulder.

He stood up straight and tall, turning to you as he heaved one final sigh. “Gaston…Gaston is looking for you.”

“Is he drunk again already?” You asked with a clear and sharp agitation to your voice before you placed your flower basket on the counter. “For goodness sake Lefou, it’s barely the afternoon?”

Lefou laughed but it was cut short by a cough as his lungs couldn’t take the strain. “No not-hing like that, I assure, Is there somewhere I can sit?” He asked while simultaneously falling backwords onto the bench by the window, though you still made sure he didn’t harm himself on the way down.

Patiently, you waited for the poor man to catch his breath before he spoke again. “But, Gaston still wishes to speak with you,” He said clearly. “Said it’s urgent.”

You sighed before setting your basket in front of Miss Fontaine. “Would you mind if I left these here? I shouldn’t be too long.”

The old woman giggled and waved her hand. “Don’t you worry about a thing dear.” She then gave you a mischievous wink which only left you perplexed.

Your eyes found there way back to Lefou who, regardless of his disposition only moments ago, was practically beaming.

“Is there something I’m missing?” You asked, turning your gaze between the two of them.

They both shook their heads and Miss Fontaine ushered you both out of the shop. “Everything will still be here when you return, don’t hurry.” She said with that girlish giggle again.

“Will you come?” Lefou asked as he placed his hat back upon his head.

“I dont really have a choice it seems,” You said as you brushed out the skirts of your dress and fixed your hair. “Lead the way.”

You and Lefou had become dear friends in the time you had known each other, so throughout the walk you made simple small talk about how nice the weather was or how lovely Villeneuve looked during Springtime.

Just as you rounded the corner to Gaston’s home, you grabbed Lefou’s arm to pull him back. “Be honest, what aren’t you telling me.”

Lefou laughed awkwardly and shrugged. “I have no idea what you mean!” He then saw the unwavering look upon your face and he sighed in defeat. “It isn’t my place to tell you, I made a promise.”

You smiled at him regardless. “I understand, thank you for escorting me here.”

He tipped his hat. “Good luck, Miss (Y/n).”

Lefou quickly made his exit before you could question him on his words, and with that you walked up to the door and raised on the brass knocker before dropping it against the dark wooden door.

Almost instantly it swung open and you were pulled into two very strong arms that whirled you around once you were inside.

“(Y/n)! It’s a lovely day isn’t?” Gaston said in a rather uncharacteristically cheerful voice, and when he set you back on the ground you looked up to his bright smile.

“You’ve certainly sobered up, last night you could barely keep your eyes focused on the same place.” You teased him as you closed the door behind you.

“Well of course I did, I had you taking care of me didn’t I?” He asked you as he lead further into his home setting you on the sofa before he held out his hands. “Here, close your eyes.”

“What for?”

“A surprise.”

You did as told, holding your hands over your eyes so you couldn’t see him.

“One moment…,” Gaston said and you heard retreating footsteps and a few rustling noises before you heard him return in front of you. “Okay, you can open them.”

You opened your eyes to see a full bouquet of perfectly bloomed white lilies held in his hand.

“Oh my.” You said with a broad smile on your face as you took thek from him. “There absolutely wonderful, where did you get them? Miss Fontaine said her lillies weren’t bloomed yet.”

Gaston pulled one of his chair from the dining table so he could sit with you. “I bought them from her and asked her if she’s keep it a secret, I knew they were your favorite.”

You gently set them down in your lap as you noticed the yellow ribbon holding the stems together. “Thank you, Gaston. It was very kind of you to think of me.

Gaston smiled, “Of course, the lilies aren’t the real reason why I asked to see you.” He said, though his voice was little more quiet and he had moved closer to you.

You looked up from the flowers to meet his eyes with a smile before looking back down at them. “Go on.”

“Well in light of our conversation from last night, there was a question I’d wanted to ask since you left.” Gaston took both of your hands in his and your gazes met each other and you nodded for him to continue. “I’d like to ask you if you’d like to marry me?”

You were completely taken back by the question it seemed to have knocked the air out of you. You’d never think the random conversations you two had after a night were he particularly had too much ale or wine would ever lead to this scenario.

Gaston saw the expression on your face and he couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “I understand if this a bit too foward, considering we’ve never formally courted one another,” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small red box, placing it in your hands. “And I have every intention of properly courting you and asking for your family’s good graces, but I want you to hold on to this until that happens.”

You took the box in both of your hands, staring at with wide eyes before they met his again. “I don’t…”

“You may open it if you’d like. I promise all of the evil in the world won’t sprout from the top the moment you lift the lid.” He said, making you both laugh and easing the tension.

Curiosity got the better of you and slowly you opened this box, smiling whenever you saw the ring sitting in the pool of dark velvet. It was a similar shape and style the engagement your mother always wore, and one you always admired.

“I spoke to your brother whenever chosing it.” Gaston said as he looked down at it with you. “You don’t need to accept or reject me anytime soon, I’m more than willing to wait.”

His hands enclosed around yours and he closed the box. “I shall wait regardless of your answer.”

You opened your mouth before closing it and shaking your head at how silly you were being. “I think…,” You said looking up at him with a genuine smile. “Should the time come, I would like to marry you,” You said, watching the light encase in his eyes and his smile grow. “Very much so.”

Gaston leaned foward, careful not to crush your flowers, and kissed your forehead tenderly. “Then that is very good news indeed.”

promises

“This is a promise that I’ll come back home– come back to you– after every case.”

wc: 1034 // just a lil short and quick something to get me back into the writing business

You’re not so much surprised as you are confused to see Spencer sitting on the coffee table poring over some files when you walk through the door of the apartment. Spencer, who seven hours ago, called you from his hotel room in a sleepy Utah town in the middle of a case. He had told you that he wouldn’t be home for another four days, and yet here he was: messy hair and soft smile and the beginnings of a black eye and bandages on his arms. He looks like he hasn’t shut his eyes once in the past three days he’s been gone.

“Hi,” he says. He sounds as exhausted as he looks.

It’s not like you haven’t seen him roughed up before– you’re almost used to it by now, actually. And it’s not like he hasn’t been gone for longer than this either. But tonight, you’re extra eager to see him, slamming the door shut and dropping your bag on the floor as you rush over to him. You wrap your arms around his neck and he hums quietly in contentment as he rests his head against yours.

“I missed you, Spence.”

You feel him nod against you. “I missed you too.”

His exhaustion is palpable and as you run your hands down his back to soothe him, he winces and inhales sharply.

“I, uh, I got hurt pretty badly by the Unsub,” he says quietly, peering up at you to gauge your reaction. You’ve seen him hurt before, sure, but that doesn’t make him feel better about making you see him in such a state.

Frowning, you pull back and instead pull up a seat in front of him. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just– I don’t know, I was just in a bad position.”

“Wanna talk about it? I could make us some coffee?”

Spencer exhales slowly and nods after a moment, his eyes trailing you as you get up and walk to the kitchen to start brewing a fresh pot of coffee. Normally, you’d smirk at him and jokingly tell him to get his own damn coffee, you’re not his maid, but tonight he looks so worn out that you shrug off the faux sarcasm. You don’t really mind, anyway.

You glance over your shoulder as the machine whirs to life. “So how’d you get that black eye?”

His frown deepens. “My profile was wrong. My profile’s never wrong. But… but I profiled the Unsub to be too socially inept for confrontation.” His voice is laced with anger and bitterness. “We were going after her and I scoped out the back alley next to her house and she attacked me.”

You sigh, looking over at him. “How long have you been back?”

“Three hours. I wanted to come home right away, but JJ had me do a complete medical evaluation before she’d let me leave.”

“Remind me to thank her. How bad did they knock you up?”

He grins and laughs, low and soft, before it’s cut off by a sharp inhale of pain. “Interesting choice of words.” You smile just as widely to mirror his expression.

You roll your eyes in mock annoyance. “How badly did you get hurt, Spence?”

“Three bruised ribs, this black eye, and a mild concussion.” He shrugs and winces at the pain. “I’ve had worse.”

While true, it doesn’t stop you from worrying and looking over at him sadly. The machine stops suddenly, the whirring dying down to a calm quiet, and you picks up the mugs of coffee and heads over. When you hand the mug to him, he smiles in appreciation and you feel better at the sight of it.

“Did you guys catch the Unsub?”

“He got away after. They sent me back home early.”

You furrow your eyebrows at the news and search his face for any answers, but you find none in his smile. Spencer Reid, though admittedly not physically capable of body slamming criminals to the ground, has a heart of gold and a moral compass that’s always in tune. He’s never left a case early– even after injuries far worse than those he’s sporting now.

“Not that I’m complaining,” you say slowly, peering over at him. “But you never come home early. What happened there?”

He opens his mouth to respond but instantly shuts it again, letting a brief silence fill the air. After a few moments, Spencer gets up and heads over to his bag, gingerly leaning down to fish something out and clutching it tightly in his hand. When he makes it back to you, he places a small black box on the counter and smiles.

“I had some things I wanted to take care of.”

“Spence–” You say his name breathlessly, your heart beating faster.

“Wait, let me– let me just explain.” He takes a deep breath and gathers your hand in his, big brown eyes looking into yours. “I love you. A lot. I’ve loved you for a long time now. Statistically, people spend a little more than two years together before they move onto this part, so I think we’re safe after three years and a baby on the way.”

You stifle a laugh, smiling widely.

“My job can be dangerous. And I know you worry, but I don’t want to leave it–I love what I do.” Before you could tell him you understand, he continues. “But I know you worry about me and that this won’t change much, but this is a promise that I’ll come back home– come back to you– after every case.”

You will yourself not to cry, but containing emotions was never your strongest suit. You almost want to look away from Spencer to compose yourself, but you can’t bring yourself.

When he says your name, it’s in the same tone that he used when he first told you he loved you. “Will you marry me?”

Your yes was teary and breathless and when you moved to hug him tightly, he holds back a groan and wraps his arms around you to pull you closer. There’s such a thing, he decides as he slips the ring on your finger, as good pain.

masterlist.

liar (archie andrews x reader)

9

pairing: archie andrews x reader

word count: 905

request: Hi! Could you maybe do one where you’ve been dating Archie for about a year and you find out for the past couple of months he’s been seeing Ms. Grundy (ugh) behind your back? Thanks!! Absolutely adore your blog <3

You were easily a teacher’s favorite without even really trying. All your teachers appreciated your efforts and knew who you were— except one in particular.

You were fine with it, really, until you realized that it wasn’t that Miss Grundy didn’t like you— it was that she seemed… uncomfortable. She wouldn’t look you in the eye, wouldn’t say anything to you unless she had to, and seemed put off whenever you tried to address her.

“I just don’t get it. I mean, did I do something? You talk to her a lot, right? You’re like her favorite,” you explained to Archie, your boyfriend for over a year now.

“I don’t know, (Y/N)…. maybe she just doesn’t feel like talking to you,” Archie shrugged, walking down the hallway at a fast pace.

You huffed angrily, mumbling. “Well then, she wouldn’t be the only one, huh?”

“What?” Archie suddenly turned to you, looking at you for what felt the first time since the school year started.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed, Archie. Something’s up with you, and I don’t know what I did.” You sighed. You have been trying to hint at this for weeks now, and you had given up on trying to be subtle. You didn’t know what was wrong and it was stressing you out; you usually told each other everything.

Archie very suddenly grabbed your arm, stopping you, and pulling you off to the side, so you were against the wall. “No— you didn’t do anything, okay? I need you to know that. It’s nothing to do with you. You didn’t do anything.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, shaking your head, not understanding what he meant. “Archie, I don't—”

He cut you off from speaking by pressing his lips against yours, gently pushing you into the wall behind you. When he pulled away, his eyes were glassy and watery, as though he would never see you again. “You’re perfect, okay? And I’m really not. Nothing is your fault. Promise me you’ll remember that.”

You gulped, slightly afraid and still not understanding. “Archie, what are you talking—”

He kissed you again, cutting you off again, urgency in his eyes when he pulled away. “Promise me.”

“Okay…” you breathed slowly.

A week later, you understood.

You had done some extra credit homework for Grundy, hoping that maybe it would lighten up her mood towards you. You instantly regretted it as you spotted her in the classroom through the door window— making out with your boyfriend.

You froze in place, chest heaving, your eyes burning the image into your brain forever. You felt heartbroken and paralyzed, but a strange sense of completion at the same time— like now everything made sense. Now you could breathe again.

Except you couldn’t.

You very literally couldn’t breathe, and began hyperventilating, taking sharp, shallow breaths. You didn’t exactly register what was happening anymore except that at some point you had stumbled backward so your back had hit the wall, and you slid down it, your knees up to your chest. You didn’t know how much later it was that Archie had left the room and found you on the floor, kneeling next to you, worried.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N), what happened?” He begged, caressing your back gently.

You snapped out of it, and flinched back. “Don’t touch me,” you demanded, somehow not crying yet.

“Okay…” Archie trailed, keeping his hands to himself and being understanding as he usually was during a panic attack. It was sweet. It was stupid. That’s not why you didn’t want him to touch you anymore.

“Get the hell away from me. Don’t talk to me, ever again!” You said a bit louder this time.

The worried look on Archie’s face had something else to it now. “What? Wh—”

“I saw you. And Grundy. Together. Making out.” You gasped between words, trying to breathe normally again, your eyes beginning to water at both your struggle with oxygen, and the circumstance.

Archie didn’t say anything, but his eyes began watering too.

“That is wrong. You’ve done stupid shit before— broke Betty’s heart, left Jughead, but this? This is morally incorrect on so many levels. It’s a crime. You cheated on me. It’s stauatory rape. You *cheated on me. You *lied to me!” You scrambled backward on the floor and stood up, wanting to hold your own against him now.

Archie stood too, and gulped. “I know.”

“Does anyone else know?” You crossed your arms.

Archie shook his head slightly, looking down. “I was going to tell you.”

“When?” Tears threatened to fall as the weight of the situation began to hit you.

Archie stuffed his hands in his pockets, kicking at the floor, looking like a shy little boy again, speaking softly. “Next week.”

You felt some comfort in the fact that you found out yourself, but you were still utterly destroyed. “Why did you do it? Do you love her?”

Archie shook his head again, and dared to look you in the eye. “I love you.”

You waited a moment before responding, so it stung more. “Liar.”

Miss Grundy walked out of the room, and froze, her stupid, young, prettier, naive eyes going perfectly round and wide— she knew what had just happened.

You didn’t know what to do, or who to tell, or where to go. “You’re both cowards,” you said, turning on your heel and walking away before they could see your tears fall.

tag list: @potter-the-marauder@jxggie-jxnes@casismyguardianangel@itsjaynebird@jugbug-imagine@duchessdaisybat @maydayveins @assbutt-jones-at-law @heir-of-light-33 @theselfishllama

|A Theory part 5|

GROUP: GOT7

GENRE: Angst, Smut, Pure unadulterated nonsense

LENGTH: 4.2K

A/N: I am so so so sorry for how long this took for me to get out. I really hope you guys like it. Now, I since already gifted the Jackson stans, I believe the eldest hyung and the leader deserve some love too, yes?

Originally posted by got7official

Originally posted by msmichellec

GIFS ARE NOT MINE


“Dress sexy” .

Jackson’s husky words echoed in my mind as I washed my body, making sure to shave, exfoliate and almost everything else in the book I could think of. I touched my skin making sure it was silky smooth to the touch before turning off the water and stepping out. The steam enveloped the room, making it a foggy maze to the door. I grabbed the dark colored towel off of the rack, wrapping the fluffy thick cotton around my body before I left the humid room, relishing in the cold air hitting my wet skin when I opened the door and stepped out into my room. In my immediate line of sight, I could see a broad back and shoulders going through my closet, carefully inspecting each article of clothing before pushing it aside and moving onto the next.

“I like the red” I heard his low, smooth voice speak as he inspected a dress I wore once to some high end fashion party Bambam dragged me to.

“It suits you” he mused.

That deep, melodic and smooth voice belonged to only one person. But how and when did he get in my room? How long was I in the shower for? It couldn’t have been that long, could it? My mind was swirling with the bombardment of questions assaulting my conscious, the most prominent one being what the hell was going on.

“Jaebum?” At the call of his name he took his attention away from the dress and turned to me.

I could fully see how he was dressed now, a simple white button up, buttoned up to his elbows with black slacks on. It was simple, but with his accessories of the silver earrings and simple chain, adorning his neck, he made it gorgeous. Giving me a once over, his lips spread into a gorgeous breathtaking smile. He kept his hand on the smooth, silky fabric of the dress as he addressed me.

“Evening baby girl” he said in a smooth, polite voice.

The initial shock of Im Jaebum in my room, while I was naked no less, was staggering and highly difficult to get over to say the absolute least. He raised an eyebrow at my silence and I could see the smug glint in his eye. He was breath taking, it was almost impossible for me to take my eyes off of him. His dark hair was styled back and away from his forehead, giving me a view of his gorgeous features. He watched me as I watched him, silently egging me on to do something as I continued my ogling unabashedly. That was before my mind took me back to the reality of the situation; Until I was reminded of the questions that needed to be answered.

“What did Jimin tell you?” Finding my voice was difficult but to produce it was even worse.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Can I request RFA + saeran reacting to a MC self harming like how they would find out and react (sorry if this makes you uncomfortable and you don't want to this) I'm currently almost a year clean!

Well done, anon! That’s a brilliant achievement ^^. I’m over 2 years clean now and currently feel really positive in myself. I really hope I wrote these alright because everyone self-harms for different reasons and feels differently about it. I tried to sort of generalise it and I’ll put a trigger warning here that there are mentions of self harm and blood (Not detailed, though) ~H x

RFA with an MC that self harms

Yoosung:

-He saw it by accident one day at school
-You were both in science, doing an experiment involving water
-The water had splashed on your sleeve and Yoosung had kindly offered to dry it off
-You didn’t expect him to pull your sleeve up, though
-He saw the scars on your arm and gasped in shock, quickly pulling the sleeve back down so that no-one else sees
-You looked down in shame
-Yoosung was never meant to see that
-“I’m… sorry,” you apologised.
-“You’re coming to mine after school, right? I really want to talk to you. Why are you sorry?” Yoosung responded.
-“I thought you’d be upset with me. Or disappointed,” you explained.
-Instead of answering, Yoosung pulls you into a big hug as you try not to cry
-At Yoosung’s after school he asks you when it started and why it started
-You’re reluctant to tell him but he eventually has you in tears, spilling out the full story of when you started with depression
-All throughout, Yoosung hugs you close to him, rocking you and stroking your hair
-“You’ve been through so much, MC,” Yoosung said after you’ve finished, “I’m so proud of how strong you’ve been. But please- it breaks my heart to think that the most wonderful, most beautiful person I know would harm herself because she thinks she isn’t good enough.”
-You nod. You understand how he feels and you wish it was as simple to stop
-But Yoosung went through a rough enough time after hearing that Rika was mentally ill
-So now that he knows what you’ve been suffering with, he’s not letting the same thing happen to his precious girlfriend. He wants to get you professional help.
-And if you think he’ll be too shy and won’t
-Think again
-Because this boy loves you

Zen:

-After a while of dating, he noticed that you always wore long sleeved tops
-One day, it was absolutely boiling outside but you wouldn’t take your jumper off
-Even though you feel like you’re going to be fried alive
-“Babe, just take your jumper off! You look like you’re boiling,” Zen tried to persuade you.
-Your sudden, “NO!” is all it takes for him to confirm the worry he’s had for a while
-“MC, please will you show me your arms,” he asked seriously as he reached across the table to you and held your wrists.
-You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head
-Not today. You can’t let him see. He’ll think you’re a failure
-“MC,” he said so sternly that you jump in shock
-As you jump, his hands accidentally slide up your arms and scrape a recent cut
-You yelp in surprise
-And he doesn’t allow you to pull your sleeve back down
-When you face him, you’re expecting some sort of emotion but you didn’t know what
-What you certainly didn’t expect was tears
-“How long?” he asked quietly, maintaining eye contact and making you want to shrivel up in yourself
-“A while. Since before I knew you,” you responded, making him know that he had nothing to do with the mental illness you’d be struggling with for ages.
-“Does anyone know?” Zen asked.
-You shook your head.
-“MC, I want you to look into my eyes and tell me that you want to hurt me in the same way you hurt yourself,” he said sternly.
-“But I can’t- I don’t- I love you!” you argued, wondering how he could suggest such a thing.
-“The fact that I now know you did this gives me exactly that pain. Imagine how I feel to know that you would suffer through this alone, without telling anyone, hurting yourself in such a way,” Zen sighed, holding your hands tightly.
-You don’t know what to say. You’re not good enough. Surely he knows this
-“Please- we already lost Rika- we can’t lose you. I can’t lose you. Not after everything we’ve been through,” Zen cried, now fully letting tears stream down his face.
-“I’m sorry,” you whispered, “I’m disappointing you.”
-“No!” Zen immediately interrupts, “I’m just worried about you because I want you to be well. Please let me take you to see someone. They can help you.”
-You didn’t want to see anyone- that’s why you hadn’t
-But if Zen was hurting, you’d at least give it a go
-“Ok,” you agreed as Zen pulled you into his chest.
-At least you had something to live for- your wonderful boyfriend
-Did anyone notice the quote I kind of took from Phil? It’s so beautiful

Jaehee:

-Mama Baehee sees and knows all
-She realised practically immediately
-Because she literally forced you to take your jacket off when you came to her house
-You were really worried how she’d react and if she’d realise you weren’t the support she needed and ditch you
-Instead, she ordered you to sit and talk
-“You can say what you like to try and get out of it, MC, but you aren’t leaving until I have the truth,” she insisted.
-So you cried and told Jaehee everything
-“What I think you need is someone there to promise you that they’ll always be with you and help you to believe in yourself,” Jaehee seemed to analyse.
-But then she shuffled closer to you and hugged you
-“MC, will you let me be that friend? Can I help you?” she asked, to your surprise.
-You were already crying too much so you just nodded
-So Jaehee smiled and started to cry too
-She looked so cute crying but you didn’t deserve her
-In fact, you wondered how many times you’d drawn a line of your own blood because you were ashamed of your sexuality
-But with Jaehee hugging you so tightly and promising to be there for you, you allowed yourself to imagine what a world with good things in for you could be like
-What if Jaehee did like you back?
-Oh if only you knew
-If only you knew how much it broke her heart to see that you’d caused yourself pain
-Jaehee wondered if it was her fault for not being a good enough friend
-It’s not, Baehee, you’re perfect and we love you

Jumin:

-It was whilst you were still ‘trapped’ in his penthouse that he found out
-He thought you were about to leave
-So he grabbed your arm to stop you escaping
-You know the Visual Novel I’m on about, right?
-And you accidentally let out a yelp of pain
-He let go go your arm and saw blood seeping through the fabric
-Forget whatever he was about to tell you- you were injured
-“MC, what happened? I didn’t- I didn’t hurt you did I?” Jumin panicked.
-“No- it’s not you. I’m fine,” you lied.
-He wasn’t about to let you pretend you weren’t hurt
-So he rolled your sleeves up
-And saw the lines on your arms
-And broke down
-“MC- I- Why- Why would you do this to yourself?” he asked, practically in tears.
-You just hung your head, not answering
-“It’s not me, is it?” Jumin asked with his eyes wide, “Am I trapping you? Is that why? Please- I’ll let you go immediately.”
-At this point you’re pretty sure he’d leaked a few tears
-“No,” you said calmly, “It was way before I met you that I started.”
-“How could someone as kind and beautiful and perfect as you do something like that to your body?” he asked.
-“I’m not perfect or beautiful in any way. I’m messed up. Really messed up. I just wanted to try and help you,” you explained.
-“And you are doing. So now I need to help you,” Jumin said sternly.
-You looked up at him
-And started crying
-So he cried too
-Jumin decided to envelope you in a hug
-So you just cried into his chest, feeling safe
-Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to stay at his penthouse forever
-When Elizabeth was around, Jumin promised himself that he’d force you to see the best counsellor in the world

Seven:

-He found out just after you’d started living in his house
-He’d told you he had something to fix on his computer but you were having a really bad day
-So to you, that just seemed like an excuse to not spend time with you
-He loves you though, please never think that! People love you and sometimes they actually just have to do stuff
-For once, he didn’t put his headphones on
-So he heard crying and decided to come and check it out
-Only to find you with blood coating your arm in a pile of tears
-He panicked
-And just runs towards you and hugs you close to his chest, not caring if he’s getting blood all over him
-You cry into his shoulder for a while whilst he just rocks and shushes you
-He knows the feeling
-Whilst he never self harmed, he was very depressed for so long
-And he knew what it was like to feel like you shouldn’t even exist anymore
-But without you
-He couldn’t exist
-Deciding it was best to tell you this, he starts to
-“MC, I love you. I couldn’t live without you. You mean so much to me. You helped me with my depression and now I want to help you. Please, let me save you like you saved me,” he begged.
-He’s going to do absolutely anything he can to help you

Saeran:

-I feel like he’d know the signs
-Because I’m pretty sure he’d self harmed too
-So he just asks you
-“MC, do you self harm?”
-“What makes you think that?” you answered sceptically.
-“Because I did for a while. You were what made me stop. Please don’t lie to me and show me your arms,” Saeran ordered with clear concern in his eyes.
-You show him your arms- it’s pointless hiding it
-“You’re going to come and see my counsellor with me,” Saeran said immediately.
-“No, Saeran! I don’t want to see a counsellor,” you begged.
-He grabbed you by the shoulder and leant down to look you directly in the eyes
-“I don’t care if you want to go or not. I’m not going to allow the person that saved and healed me to suffer herself. I love you too much to lose you. My life is nothing without you,” he told you.
-You hug him really tight
-And just wonder how you’re both messes
-Saeran was not going to allow you to help him as much as you had without him helping you in return
-He loved you too much to lose you

V:

-You were constantly thinking that you were nothing compared to Rika
-Sure, she’d been crazy, but V had loved her
-Probably more than he loved you
-V found out you self harmed when he accidentally walked into the bathroom whilst you’d just finished showering
-You had a towel wrapped around you but your arms were exposed
-And bleeding
-“I’m sorry- wait, MC, your arms!” V started to apologise before seeing the lines and blood on your forearms.
-You hung your head
-He was going to tell you that you were nothing compared to Rika- that you were weak- that you were weird for harming yourself
-But he didn’t
-Instead, he runs towards you, gently takes your arm and kisses all your scars
-“I made a mistake last time- I didn’t help her. I’m not going to make that mistake again because I love you so much that I will force you to see a therapist,” V told you.
-“But I don’t want to-“ you started to protest
-“I know. Last time I made the mistake of thinking love would be enough. I’m not blind anymore and I can see that despite me loving you, you need proper help. I don’t want to lose you. You mean far more to me, MC,” V said.  
-I’m sorry for the blind joke, really I am
-It suddenly registered in your mind what he was saying
-V loved you
-He loved you more than he’d loved Rika
-And he wanted to help you
-Finally- someone did
-And you loved him

Breaking Down

Request: I love your stories so much! If it is no trouble I was wondering if you could write a newtxreader where the reader feels like she has been a burden to Newt and it gets to the point when she leaves when he isn’t noticing? And then he comes to find her? Really angsty please? Thanks! 

Word Count: 2,106

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Requested by Anonymous

Requests are currently open! Feel free to send one in


The pot clatters to the ground, breaking open and sending black dirt rolling across the floor. Newt cranes his head around from where he’s working. He watches the shrivelfig bounce across the ground and ricochet off his boot.

Wiping his hands on a towel, he leans down and lifts it. “Efficient.”

You return his grin with your own half-hearted smile as you turn to grab a broom.

Newt notices your insincerity. “You okay, love?”

Your back to Newt, you nod. “Fine.”

He focuses back on the potion in front of him. “You sure?”

“Positive,” you murmur. Guilt tugs at you. You don’t like lying to Newt, but this isn’t his problem.

You go to sweep up the spilled dirt, but before you can even touch a grain of it with the broom, it starts spinning around. The pieces of the pot reassemble themselves, and the dirt shoots back into the mended pot. Newt doesn’t need to look at you for you to know he’s smiling.

“No need for the broom, love, I’ve got it.”

You stare at the clean ground, unmoving. Of course you’d mess up and break something Newt needed. Of course he’d need to clean up after you.

“Everything okay?” The nonchalant question comes from over his shoulder as he stirs the mixture.

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