A/N: I would just like to say before any of you begin reading: This was a prompt—although not mine originally—I was given permission to use. Credit for it goes to Deirdre or on the Tumblr world she is known as damnbamon. You should really check her out if you haven't. She's really nice and a bamon-fanatic. Anyway, now that that's out of the way, I hope you enjoy the first chapter!

BONNIE

Things had been going well for Bonnie—well, except for the fact her rent was due in three days, she and her roommates spent the rent money on booze and decorations for the New Year's Eve party that Caroline, one out of two of Bonnie's roommates, had been planning. Oh, and before she almost forgets, her boyfriend of five years just broke up with her only a three weeks ago.

So, as far as things going well, they definitely could've been worse.

...And if she hadn't believed in bad luck, she did now.

It was only when Bonnie had woken up the next morning with a very annoying and painful hangover that threatened to send her straight for the bathroom as soon as her eyes had opened, her stomach churning, did something feel off. At first, her suspicions had lead to the fact when she turned her head—which had been buried into the pillow as she sleeps on her chest, face smashed into the feathery cushion—to the side and read the alarm clock that sits on the white nightstand that stands next her bed. The damn thing told her it was only seven thirty a.m. and she let out a groan.

...Or, at least she thought she did.

Her mouth had opened, but nothing had actually come out of it.

Bonnie had been expecting to hear her own voice, but instead what she had heard was groan—a very manly, tired groan.

And Bonnie was definitely not a man.

As she slowly, and reluctantly, turned her head over her right shoulder, one eye closed while the other was just cracked open slightly she realizes her suspicions had been completely wrong. It wasn't the fact that it was seven-thirty in the morning that had set her off, but instead the very overwhelming fact that there was a very naked, and beautifully carved man lying on the bed next her.

He had raven black hair and strands of it hung in front of eyes, pale skin, a sharply toned body, a chiseled chin that you could probably grate cheese off of because of how sharp it was, and a six pack. And the only thing her purple sheet covered was his junk, nothing more, nothing less. When she glances over at the foot of the bed, she spotted her white comforter lying in a piled heap on the floor, mostly likely kicked off and forgotten.

Although this wasn't exactly the worse thing to ever happened to her, Bonnie couldn't help but wonder: Who was he?

And what was naked mystery man doing lying in her bed? Bonnie had all sorts of ideas of why he was here, but she had even more questions that demanded to have answers now. But something in her gut told her she wasn't going to like the answers she got. It also probably should've surprised her to see him just lying here, but over the years of having to deal with some pretty weird shit and now at the prime age of twenty-two, not many things could surprise her.

Not even a naked man in her bed.

But what really creeped her out wasn't that this rugged male specimen was too freakishly beautiful to even be part of the human race, but actually the fact that he was staring back at her, his light glacier blue eyes locked with her emerald green ones is what did the trick.

...So, in typical Bonnie fashion, what does she do?

Act mature and deal with the situation like an adult?

Haha...No. Because that would be unheard of.

She does the one thing she can't think of.

She screams.