#night time anytime get your degree set yourself free

[the-himawari]

A3! Troupe Event Translation - Sunny Blanc (2/11)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Tsumugi’s grandmother: I’m sorry about this, Tsumu-chan. This isn’t such a big deal. I will feel better as long as I get a good night’s rest… Is it alright that you took a break from both your job and the theatre?

Tsumugi: I happen to be free right now, so it’s fine. Don’t worry, grandma. Relax and take it easy.

Tsumugi’s grandmother: Thank you. I’m happy that you’re staying at home for the first time in a while.

Tsumugi: I’m glad that I get to be with you too, grandma.

Zabi: Woof, woof!

Tsumugi: Fufu. And Zabi too, of course.

*ding dong*

Tsumugi: Ah, that must be Tasuku.

Tasuku: I bought what you asked for.

Tsumugi: Thanks. Sorry for asking you to go shopping on top of coming home with me.

Tasuku: Don’t worry about it. I was worried about grandma too. Besides, it worked out perfectly since Director asked me to come and I also had something to do at home. If you need anything again, just call me anytime.

Tsumugi: That’s a great help.

Tsumugi’s grandmother: Ta-chan? Would you like to eat some hot spring manjuu? I bought them when I went on a bus trip to a hot spring with a friend of mine.

Tasuku: Thank you. You’re always buying me souvenirs, grandma.

Tsumugi’s grandmother: Tsumu-chan’s sure to buy you a souvenir wherever he goes as well.

Tsumugi: Ahaha, that’s true, now that I think about it.

Tasuku: Alright, I’m going to head home. Make sure you head to bed early, grandma.

Tsumugi’s grandmother: I will do that. Thank you for everything. Goodnight.

Tasuku: Goodnight.

-pause-

Tsumugi: Good morning. I boiled some eggs for the morning.

Tsumugi’s grandmother: Oh my, it smells nice. You’ve gotten good at cooking, haven’t you, Tsumu-chan?

Tsumugi: I make this at the dorm once in a while, so I guess it’s thanks to that.

Tsumugi’s grandmother: I see. I have a photo of the first time you cooked, Tsumu-chan. If I recall correctly, it’s in that album…

Tsumugi: Don’t push yourself too hard, grandma. You should eat and then go right back to sleep.

Tsumugi’s grandmother: It’s alright. I’ve recovered tremendously thanks to you, Tsumu-chan. Your body will weaken if you stay still.

Tsumugi: Just a little then.

Tsumugi’s grandmother: Oh, here it is. Look at this fried egg. You burned it two times, but succeeded the third time around.

Tsumugi: You guys ate the burnt ones, didn’t you?

Tsumugi’s grandmother: Fufu. That sure takes me back.

Tsumugi: That reminds me, the two of us have gone to a flower garden before, haven’t we?

Tsumugi’s grandmother: Oh my… did we do something like that?

Tsumugi: Remember, we rode the bus… it was really large… where was it again?

Tsumugi’s grandmother: I don’t recall… I wonder if we have a photo.

Tsumugi: Mmm… I think I was around 6 or 7 years old… (I swear we went.)

Tsumugi’s grandmother: I’m sorry. I forget more and more things as the years go by.

Tsumugi: It’s almost been 20 years already, so it can’t be helped. (But it would feel a little sad forgetting my memories with grandma…)

-pause-

Hisoka: 1, 2, 3, 4…

Homare: Ow, ow, ow… please don’t push so hard. I’ll have you know I am not origami.

Hisoka: …Rather than origami, you’re a right angle.

Homare: I’m bending more than 90 degrees, you know!

Azuma: It sure is lively again today.

Izumi: Come to think of it, I got a message from Tsumugi-san saying they’re coming home tomorrow. Once the two of them are back, we’ll start discussing Winter troupe’s play.

Homare: That is great to hear. Rehearsal is not as thrilling without the two head theatre junkies here.

Guy: I look forward to seeing how our next performance will turn out.

Izumi: Alright, shall we get started?

Hisoka: …?

Azuma: What’s the matter?

Hisoka: (Azuma smells different than usual… Strange. I feel like I’ve smelled this somewhere before…)

*flashback starts*

Hisoka: I’m back… …What’s this smell?

August: Welcome back. Thank goodness you’re here first, December.

Hisoka: ???

August: I heard that sleeping with perfume on your bedding helps you relax. I gave it a try, but looks like I overdid it.

Hisoka: …April’s going to be mad once he’s back.

August: I know, I know. I hope the smell fades a little…

Hisoka: …I’ll get scolded with you.

August: We’re totally gonna get scolded, huh? Well, thanks.

*flashback ends*

Hisoka: …

Azuma: Are you alright, Hisoka?

Hisoka: … …You smell different than usual, Azuma.

Azuma: Oh, this? A friend gave me some perfume as a present saying it would suit me. I suppose this scent wasn’t your cup of tea, hm? Sorry about that.

Hisoka: No, that’s not it.

Azuma: Is that so? That’s a relief.

Hisoka: (I remembered August from a scent earlier as well.) (My warm, precious memories with August… How could I have forgotten them?)

Izumi: Shall we start with etudes today?

Homare: It is probably going to be harder than usual since we have fewer people.

Hisoka: … (I wonder if I’ll also forget my precious memories of my daily life with everyone one day…) (I thought that even if I lost my memories, I could just make them again… but now, I feel kind of scared…) *Sigh*…

Homare: …

---

previous | next

[lovelyyweather]

haha! Did this with my finger bois! I'll shove it all right here if you dont wanna read my chicken scratch:

Name: Lee (but u can call me anything) really, don't really like the og one ID: lovely_weather Platform: PS4 VC: On + Off (shy at home) i get shy when my parents are around and hear me... Timezone: MT mountain Legends: Love BH, Mirage, Octane, but I mainly rotate on that L shape Weapons: R301, Triple Take, Spitfire i like to experiement (typo) so I don't get pressed :) Play Style: "sidekick" i'm not good w/ decisions but will follow u into battle ETC: played since S0; am average; she/her; RARELY play w/ others ie poor ppl skills ; will hype u up ; tired of randoms

hrmhgn I just really want to have trust in my teammates and have fun. I can be pretty competitive, which is good bc Im serious but bad because I can be Too serious,,, i constantly cry over my kd. I never rage quit or swear though! I'm very friendly!!! I'm okay with giving my age too, because I know people can be uncomfy with some ages. I'm 17, nearly 18. Just wanna learn and play!!!

template by @syntheticnightmares

[bcofl0ve]

Invisible String (Part 3)

(part 3/9)

ship: austin butler x fem!reader

summary: a summer fling when you were working on the set of the shannara chronicles turned your life upside down with a positive pregnancy test after austin returned to the united states. a pregnancy test, and a daughter that you never told him about. until the elvis biopic found him back in your orbit and forced you to face the music.

chapter summary: you take austin up on dinner, discuss some things you haven’t yet, feel like you’re finally starting to get a handle on the whole situation- and hope it stays that way. (spoiler: good luck.)

word count: 2,600

authors note: yes i know the shannara chronicles was filmed in new zealand but this is my au and i can do what i want so we’re pretending it was filmed in queensland. covid also doesn’t exist in this story, because i said so, hence the filming schedule being one of my own making.

i live for comments and love talking about my writing, pls feel free to pop me an anon anytime!

xxx

August 25th, 2015

“You didn’t fall in the toilet, did you?”

You heard Leah running up the stairs from the other side of the bathroom door but couldn’t make your own feet move from where they were planted on the rug in front of the sink. Your eyes were equally glued to the white stick in your clammy hands, the two pink lines seeming to stare right back at you.

“Y/N?” 

Leah knocked on the door and you went to reply until you realized that if you said anything the waterworks would start, a lump forming in your throat. Unfortunately though, Leah was your best friend and she could sense something was wrong.

Opening the door a crack, she turned her head away.

“I’m gonna come in, you have a few seconds to shove me out if you really need to,” She said as she opened the door the rest of the way and stepped inside. Meeting your eyes, she took in your expression before following your gaze to the pregnancy test.

“Oh shit.”

You gave a wet laugh to that, at the absurdity of it all, but real tears followed. Leah grabbed you into a hug and rubbed your back as you sobbed, still clutching the test. She pulled away after a minute, wiping your face with a scrap of toilet paper and cupping your cheeks. 

“Listen to me," She started, looking at you assertively. "This is not the end of the world, okay?"

You couldn't bring yourself to give even a small nod, let alone believe that for a second.

---

May 30th, 2020

It must’ve been fifteen minutes since you pulled into Austin’s driveway, but actually getting yourself out of the car was another ordeal entirely. You drummed your fingers on the steering wheel, half tempted to pull back out and make some bullshit excuse about Cora being sick. Except Cora wasn’t sick, she was more than happy to spend the night with your mom. Your mother who had practically shoved you out the door when you told her where you were going, a twinkle in her eyes as she gave you a one over.

“You look beautiful honey, and I know Austin-”

“It’s not a date.”

You cut her off, arms crossed over your body. You had dressed a degree nicer than you normally did, but only because of how nice you were sure Austin’s place was in comparison to yours.

And it was by a long shot, at least as far as you could tell from the outside. 

Removing your hands from the steering wheel, you took a small breath in and out before pushing open the car door and making the walk to his front porch. You rang the doorbell, smoothing over your dress with your hands as you waited.

A few seconds passed, you heard some shuffling from the other side and the door was swinging open, Austin giving you a one over similar to the one your mother had. Relief washed over you at the sight of him somewhat dressed up too, wearing a dark blue button up rolled back at the elbows with khakis. His shirt was the exact same color as your dress, something you seemed to notice at the same time.

“Great minds think alike” He said with a light laugh as he let you in. He looked like he wanted to add something to that but didn’t, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip as he led you into the dining room. There were two wine glasses on the table, accompanied by a pasta dish that was a degree fancier than what you’d been expecting, garnish, ornate plates and all.

“You really went all out,” You remarked quietly, seeing a hint of blush in his cheeks as you sat down across from him.

“Been a while since I had an excuse to.”

Vanessa you realized as you picked up your glass, your mind wandering to what your mother or Leah would think if they saw all this after your insistence that it wasn’t a date. Just a friendly dinner between two people who shared a child but until a month ago hadn’t seen each other in five years.

The conversation was lighthearted as you started eating. Something you sensed was going to change when Austin put his fork down, his expression more concentrated than it had been just a few seconds prior.

“Can I ask you something personal?”

Your stomach dropped, but you nodded, trying to hold eye contact as you crossed and recrossed your ankles under the table.

“You mentioned taking the Elvis job because of the pay,” He started, looking off to the side. “And I guess I was just thinking, you could’ve been set for life if you played your cards differently. Ran to the tabloids or something, I don’t know. Maybe wouldn’t have gotten you much in 2015, but around when Elvis casting came out last year,” 

He had been moving his hands around as he talked and stopped, bringing one to rest under his chin, a finger across his top lip.

“If you’re comfortable answerin’, I’m just curious why you didn’t do any of that?”

Your eyes fell away to your hands in your lap.

“Cora’s the best thing that ever happened to me,” You started, taking a breath and looking back up at Austin.  “But I was terrified when I found out I was pregnant. I had nightmares about waking up to reporters at my door, being seen as someone who fooled around with a celebrity and baby trapped him.” 

Austin opened his mouth to protest and you kept talking before he could say anything.

“I know that’s not what happened, but it’s what people would think. And keeping you completely in the dark wasn’t right, I know that too. But I wasn’t going to make you find out from TMZ either.”

There was a moment of silence between you before Austin nodded, picking his fork back up as he spoke. “You’re a good person Y/N, I mean that." He said gently, and you were inclined to believe him.

The rest of the evening was less intense than that conversation, maybe because you’d gotten it out of the way. You talked about work, about Elvis- the movie and the man himself. And when Austin was walking you back out to your car a little part of you didn’t want to leave him.

“Cora’s at my mom’s place on the coastline, and she wanted me to tell you you’re more than welcome when I come pick her up tomorrow.” You started before you got into the driver’s seat. “She owns the property, so it’s a private beach. Not to mention I think she’d chase off any paparazzi herself if it did become an issue.”

He laughed at that, reaching forward to touch your arm just above your elbow. “You tell both of ‘em I’ll be there, alright?”

He stayed in the driveway as you pulled out, the both of you giving a little wave before you drove off. It was nice, you thought, to feel an emotion about the whole situation other than abject terror. Even if you weren’t quite sure what to label this new feeling.

---

May 31st, 2020

You were off for the afternoon a couple hours before Austin was and had offered to just meet him at your mom's house, but he'd insisted on coming to pick you up once he wrapped for the day. An insistence that came as a surprise given that didn’t know if him taking you around in his car was too big of a risk recognition wise.

When you climbed into the passenger seat you noticed something in the back that hadn’t been there when he drove you to the hospital. A pink child’s car seat.

“Ordered it online a couple days ago,” He supplied before you could ask about it yourself. “Thought driving y’all home tonight might be a good time to try it out.”

Something about the gesture made your heart rise in your throat as you put your seatbelt on- the permanency of it, you realized. All while trying to swallow down your emotions as Austin started making small talk with questions about your mom.

He seemed nervous when you reached the house, something your mother paid no mind to when she swung open the front door and pulled him into a hug before she so much as greeted you. 

“Oh my goodness,” She exclaimed as she pulled back, running a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry if that was too much, but ever since Y/N mentioned that you two were talking again I’ve been begging her to bring you around, “

Austin to his credit handled your over-excited mother perfectly, shaking her hand and complimenting the house as she let you two inside.

“Cora honey, look who’s here,” She called out down the hallway and the four year old came running face, lighting up when she rounded the corner.

“You b’ought Austin!” Cora squealed in your general direction, barrelling over and bear hugging his legs. Your mom, from where you could see her out of the corner of your eye, had both hands over her heart watching the two of them.

“So I’m chopped liver to everyone then.” You joked and she laughed, giving you a side hug with a whisper of “You’ll have to tell me about your not-date,” as she ushered the three of you towards the back door that led to the beach.

Cora didn't unglue herself from Austin’s side until a few neighbor kids came over to play and she was content to run off with them, leaving you two to your own devices in lounge chairs under an umbrella. You fell into light conversation, sipping on drinks your mom had brought out, and for the first time since everything had blown up you didn’t feel the urge to get up and bolt in the other direction.

The two of you were quickly finding that you had a lot to catch up on even outside of a certain four year old, Austin in the middle of a story about his sister when Cora came barreling back up the shore.

Shaking the sand out of her hair, she came to a stop in front of him.

“Are you my daddy? Cuz they were askin’ me” She started, talking so fast you could barley understand her and pointing at her friends playing in the sand. “But I t’ought people gotted their daddies when they were babies.”

Austin leaned forward but not before looking back at you, a question in his eyes. Giving him a little nod, you grateful that he seemed content to take over this one himself. Weirdly enough too- you weren't nervous at all about what he was going to say.

You trusted him. That was new.

“I am sweetie, but I didn’t know ya when you were a tiny baby because I was working all the way in America. And I didn’t even know I had a little girl named Cora until I came back here last month and saw your mama again.”

“Okay!”

And with that Cora was running back to the other kids, no follow up questions to the explanation he’d given. There was something to be said for the adaptability of kids, you thought, and Austin made a quip about it himself as he relaxed back into his chair.

Lifting his drink, he motioned for you to do the same. 

“To Cora Jean," Austin said tenderly and you echoed him, clinking your glass with his. "To Cora Jean."

---

Cora was just as excited about riding home in Austin’s car as you thought she’d be, climbing up into the carseat and giggling as he helped her get buckled in.

“We can go on so many ‘ventures in here,” She said and you smiled listening to him assure her that they’d go on so many adventures before he closed the back door and got into the driver's seat.

She fell asleep about halfway home, the glimpses you caught of Austin looking at her sleeping in the rearview mirror bringing back the feeling from the night before. The one you weren’t sure what to call. 

Love.

“So I was thinking,” Austin said, looking at you out of the corner of his eye as he drove. “That it’s probably time for me to loop Baz and my manager in on everything.”

You knew it was coming, and that it was necessary. But it didn’t stop your stomach from knotting up. 

“Okay." You replied softly, looking out the window as he pulled to a red light. “But I’d appreciate time to look for another job, if Baz doesn’t think us working together is a good idea then,”

“Hey,” He cut you off, laying a hand over yours on the center console. He stopped short of intertwining your fingers, and you realized you wouldn’t have minded all that much if he did. “I’m not gonna let that happen, okay? Baz is a good guy.”

You nodded, and expected Austin to move his hand when the light turned green. But he didn’t, keeping it there until he pulled to a stop at your building. You’d wound up on the front side this time, but it was late enough that the neighbors were all in for the night.

Unbuckling and twisting in your seat, you were unsurprised to see that Cora was still asleep. Reaching forward, you gently shook her awake by the foot. 

“We’re home sleepyhead,” You whispered and she stirred, rubbing her eyes with a tired smile. When you got out and opened the passenger side door to get her she looked past you at Austin, reaching out with grabby hands.

“I want daddy to carry me.” 

After appearing to freeze up for a second he slid past you and unbuckled her, picking her up with a soft “Come here baby girl,”

You could hear the emotion in his voice at the title she'd given him just then, for the first time. Cora dropped her head to his shoulder, with a tired protest muffled by a yawn about how she was not a baby, she was four.

“Always gonna be my baby.” He responded, looking at her tenderly as he kissed her forehead.

You were starting to feel overcome with emotion yourself, and before you could give it much thought you were stepping a little closer. He lifted his head when you put a hand on the shoulder that wasn't occupied by Cora, looking into your eyes before his gaze slipped down to your lips.

“Austin,” You started softly, but then chill that ran up your spine didn’t feel like butterflies. 

Something felt wrong.

Turning, you saw two men with cameras at the mouth of your driveway and your heart stopped. The shuttering you heard before you could fully process what was going on was paired with one of the men shouting.

“Mr. Butler! When were you planning on telling the world about your child?”

Austin damn near threw Cora into your arms as he told you to go inside, stalking off towards the photographers as you rushed in the other direction.

“Papping a kid, really?!” You heard him yell, “You so much as think about coming near my family again I’ll knock your goddamn teeth out.”

Whatever he said next you didn’t hear as you slammed the front door behind you, holding onto Cora and trembling as you tried to get the blinds down.

xxx

tag list (tags don’t always work, i do my best!): @chernayawidow @theinvisiblecapricorn @aalishiftsts @mavericksicybabe @cryingabtab @kittenlittle24 @invisiblee-smokee @mrs-munson-quinn @cevans-winchester @kikilovesdankmemess @oh-austin @chrissie-soula @starcatchxr @butlervol66 @thedeviltohisangell @redhoods-gf @gabrielajimenez @stlover288 @alqvarde @loudwombatmugkid @austinbrainrot @ab4eva @m0ndayagain @marlowmodee @kingbouji3 @gardenavenue @yeonimiii @eliseinmemphisis @blurredcolourour @tiddieshakeshownu @fallininlovewithurlove @briannaisanxious @amiets2 @alqvarde @karamelcoveredolicity

[kywaslost]

Levi x Sick Reader

Warnings: being sick, vomiting

I may take requests for Levi, but I only really write comfort for him...

“Cadet L/N, you’re late,” Captain Levi called to your running form. You sprinted to your spot in the role call line, solluting to your captain.

“I’m sorry sir,” you apologized. “It will never happen again sir.” The man shot you a menacing glare.

“It better not.” He finished role call and started giving out the day’s events. “Run 60 laps and then move on to chores.” 

The soldiers responded with, “Yes sir!” and started on their laps.

“Accept you, Cadet L/N,” Levi commanded. You turned your attention towards him and ran over to him. He gave you a cold stare. “You will run until I tell you to stop.”

You gave a quiet upset sigh. “Yes sir.” You solluted before starting your laps. You watched as the other soldiers finished and started on their chores. A couple soldiers shot you sympathetic looka while the others either laughed or ignored you completely.

The sun beat down on your running body hours later. Your legs ached, a headache starting to form behind your eyes.

“Cadet!” You continued to run as Captain Levi called for you. “Take a drink of water, then get back to it. Don’t stall either or you’ll be running all night.” You nodded, slowing your pace.

“Thank you sir.” You walked into the mess hall to get a glass of water, downing it instantly. You then sighed as you started to go run laps again. This is going to be a long day.

Lunch rolled around and everyone was in the mess hall. You saw Captain Levi cross the area you were running and you were hopeful that he would let you eat. Without even speaking a word yourself, Levi answered your unasked question. “Keep going Cadet.” Your hopes smashed to the ground as you nodded, running past a few dying bushes.

Rain clouds rolled in a few hours later and you started to cry. All you wanted to do was eat and get some sleep. The reason you were late this morning is because you weren’t feeling well. You had a small headache and your throat was scratchy but you sucked it up and went to training. Now you knew for a fact that you were sick. You could tell you had a fever by the chills rambling your body even though it was easily over 100 degrees. Sweat poured down your face and into your eyes as you rubbed at your aching head.

“You’re still running?” a voice asked from beside you. Mikasa was jogging beside you.

You let out an airy, “Yeah.” Mikasa looked concerned.

“Do you feel alright? You’re looking paler than usual.” Raindrops soaked your uniform, making the fabric cling to your skin.

“Nah, I’m fine,” you wheezed. Mikasa sighed and stopped running, now walking over to the girl’s dorms. The heat mixed with the rain made the air very humid, which on top of that caused you to have trouble breathing. Captain Levi came to get you a few hours after dinner. The rain poured down even harder and the temperature had dropped drastically, now in the low 60s. The Captain had his cloak draped over his head and shoulders, shielding him from the rain. 

“Cadet!” he yelled. “You’re free to go.” You sighed as you stopped running. Your vision swam.

“Cadet?” The voice was closer this time. You sighed again as your body slammed into the mud, unconscious.

Levi walked over to his soldier. She had stopped running, but all she did was stand there. He was going to remind her not to be late again but he could see the way she swayed. “Cadet? He ran towards the girl as she fell into the mud. He dropped down behind her, shaking her shoulder. “Cadet!” He cursed to himself as he saw she wasn’t going to wake anytime soon. 

“Captain?” Armin and Eren ran over to Levi. “What’s going on? Do you need a medic?” Levi scowled.

“No, she’s alright,” he answered, picking up his soldier.

“What happened?” Eren asked worriedly.

“She passed out,” Levi answered again. “She will be alright.” Leaving the two boys behind, Levi brought his unconscious soldier to his bedroom. He placed her on his bed gently and slowly stripped her of her tan jacket and boots. He covered her with a thick blanket and left in search of Hanji.

Levi roughly slammed the door of the lab open as he made his presence known. He spotted the scientist almost immediately. “Hey four eyes,” he called. “I need your help.”

The brunette smiled up at him. “Sure. What do you need?” He scoffed at her enthusiasm.

“Cadet L/N is unconscious and soaked to the bone. I need you to change her out of the clothes she’s wearing now and into something dry and warm.” The woman looked concerned.

“Why is Y/N unconscious? Did something happen?” she asked worriedly.

“I’m not sure why yet, which is why I need you to get her into something dry. She is in my quarters when you’re ready. And try to make it quick, we can’t have a soldier get sick.” With that said, Levi left the lab and got to work on paperwork in his office.

Hanji came in not five minutes later with a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. She walked through Levi’s office and into his bedroom. Levi didn’t look up until she came back into his office, arms full of soaking wet clothes. “She’s in dry clothes now. Mind telling me what’s going on?” she explained. Levi sighed.

“She was late this morning and I made her run. I honestly forgot she was out there until after dinner. She had been running in the rain for hours.” Levi had a distant look in his eyes. “Leave.” Hanji nodded and closed the door behind her. The Captain returned to his bedroom to see you still unconscious under the blankets. He took in how pale you looked and how you trembled under the thick blanket. Levi placed his hand on your head and quickly drew it back when he felt the heat radiating from you. He sighed as he went to get a bowl of cold water and a cloth. When he returned, he pulled a chair to his bed and dipped the cloth in the water. He gently wiped down your face with the cloth. He continued to do so as he soaked the cloth and tried to keep your temperature on the low.

He had just drained the cloth of most of its water and dabbed your face when you stirred and opened your eyes, drained of all energy. He pulled his hand back, surprised to see you awake. “Cadet?” he asked quietly. When you noticed he was sitting beside you, you quickly tried to sit up but he pushed you back down. “You need to relax, Cadet.” You looked around the room, confused.

“Captain?” you muttered. He pushed your head back down to rest on one of the pillows.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he confessed. “But I’m glad you’re awake. You need to eat. Wait here.” You watched as your captain left the room. Within minutes you had fallen back asleep again.

Levi walked in 20 minutes later with a tray holding two cups of steaming tea, toast, and soup. He smiled gently when he saw you fast asleep on his bed. He set the try on the bedside drawer and felt your temperature. He decided to let you sleep a bit more before waking you again. He shook your shoulder five minutes later.

“Cadet,” he said quietly. “Wake up L/N.” You stirred, groaning as you covered your eyes. Levi frowned. “Does your head hurt Cadet?” he asked. You nodded as you rolled onto your back. Levi didn’t show it but he felt bad for you. He felt as if this was his fault. He sighed, “I brought some soup, toast, and tea.” He helped you sit up slowly, propping you up against the pillows he stacked behind you. “It is important to stay hydrated when you are ill.”

You looked at the tray with the food, staring at it. Levi followed your gaze and picked up one of the cups of tea. “Here. It’s a special type of tea that helps with common aches and pains. It should help with your headache.” You took the cup with trembling hands. When you lifted the cup to your lips, the warm liquid flowed over your lips. It was soothing, at least it was before you started coughing. You coughed so hard you spilled tea down your shirt. Levi was quick to take the cup from your hands and place it back on the tray. He pulled a cloth from his jacket pocket and dabbed at the liquid dampening your face and torso. When the sputters of coughing fits wouldn’t stop he patted your back genty.

“Jesus Cadet,” he muttered. “You must not be feeling well at all.” When you finally managed to calm down, tears fell silently down your flushed cheeks. It hurt so much. Levi wiped the tears away. “There’s no need to cry, Cadet.” He then continued to wipe at the spilled tea. As he did so, the dots connected in your head and you realized you were in Levi’s room, in his bed. Your eyes widened.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, shaking your head. “I’m so sorry.” You started to cry again as you hid your face in your hands. Levi gave up on wiping away the tea when he heard your soft sobs.

“Don’t worry about it Cadet,” he responded as he pulled your hands away from your face. “You’re ill, I get it.” He then held the bowl of soup in his hands. He lifted the spoon to your mouth. “Eat.” Your eyes widened.

“T-There’s no need,” you stuttered. “I can feed myself.”

“Tch,” Levi scoffed. “You couldn’t drink your tea, so I’m going to feed you.” You blushed, not that anyone could tell though, as you nodded and accepted defeat. Levi continued to feed you until the bowl was empty. “Eat this toast,” Levi commanded as he handed the toast to you.

You shook your head. “I can’t,” you muttered. “I’m afraid I’ll get sick if I do.” Levi stood and picked up the trash bin in the corner.

“In that case, I’ll put this here.” He set the bin down beside the bed. He then pulled a t-shirt from a dresser and tossed it at you. You held the cloth in your hands.

“W-What’s this for?” you asked as you looked back up to your captain. He walked towards the door.

“You’re covered in tea. Now change your shirt.” He cracked the door as he left. You slowly pulled your soiled shirt over your head. That’s when you noticed that the clothes you were in weren't your uniform. You pulled Levi’s shirt over your head and layed down. Levi knocked before entering again. He took notice that you looked exhausted. He sat down in his chair, watching over you. “Rest Cadet,” he commanded. You didn’t need much convincing for that to happen. You closed your eyes and fell asleep.

As hours passed Levi sat in his office doing paperwork. The stacks of papers climbed higher and higher each day and he just wanted to get it all finished. The only noise that could be heard were the bugs outside and the sound of his pen gliding across all of the papers. It was almost three in the morning when another sound could be heard. Levi quickly ran into his bedroom to see you vomiting up the food you had eaten earlier into the trash can he had set down. He quickly got on the bed behind you and pulled back your hair. The heat coming from the back of your neck was worse than when he left just hours ago. 

When you had finally stopped emptying the contents of your stomach you cried. Levi shushed you quietly as he picked up the nearly dried cloth and used it to wipe at your mouth. “Calm down Cadet, you’re fine,” he said gently. “You’ll be alright.” He propped you up against the headboard and turned your head to face him. “Do you feel like you’ll be sick again?” You shook your head slowly.

“No,” you said through tears. “I’m good.” Levi slowly got off the bed so he wouldn’t upset your stomach any more than it already was.

“I’m going to clean this out. I’ll be right back.”

Levi returned not long after he left. His heart melted slightly when he walked in to see you still sitting up except this time your legs were pulling to your chest. You were shivering violently even though sweat covered your face. “Cadet…” Levi said quietly. He picked up a spare cloth and soaked it in the water. He ran the rag gently over your face, nose, and neck. “You need to rest.” You looked at him with bloodshot eyes.

“Sleep?” you questioned weakly. Levi nodded.

“Yes, sleep.”

“Captain?”

“Yes.”

“Stay here?” You were already dozing off again as Levi helped you lay back down. He smiled slightly and pulled off his jacket, cloak, boots, and straps.

“Of course.” He sat down beside you on the bed. You rested your head against his side as he picked up a book, opening it to where he left off. Before you were completely asleep, you registered one last thing. You could feel Levi press a gentle kiss on the side of your head as he said, “Feel better soon Cadet.”

[so-writing]

Sugar, Honey, Ice and Tea - Matthew Tkachuk (7)

all parts in the master list

Minimal editing. Also hit me with some predictions for the end of this and also any thoughts at all about it. Is it trash, is it good? I am curious about what you think!

--

Matthew didn’t usually drink much during their time away from home. If the Flames won, he’d usually have a beer or two to celebrate and that was it. This past week had him consuming more alcohol than he had in a long time and he had no idea why.

The roommate situation put him on edge the moment he found out who he was going to be staying with and his mood soured even more when he discovered they’d have to share a bed so maybe that was why he was taking shots and downing beers like he was on summer vacation. 

He remembered bits and pieces of the previous night: she kissed him and then disappeared, he continued to take shots long after she’d gone, they had a conversation about moms in their hotel room. 

That was it though. He had no recollection of changing into his pajamas and crawling into bed. When his alarm went off, he woke up in bed alone and as he surveyed the room, he realized all her stuff was gone. 

Sure, they were going home today but damn, she must have really wanted to get the fuck away from him. He wasn’t ready to acknowledge that it might have hurt his feelings a little bit so he pushed the thought away and began to get ready for the day.

*

The feeling of peace you got when you quietly closed the door behind you and wheeled your luggage away from the room you shared with Matthew Tkachuk was incredible. 

The past week had been a roller coaster that you were dying to get off of and all you had to do was get through this last game and the bus ride home. That would be easy though, you’d have no interaction with Matthew during the game and you knew damn well he would rather cling to the top of the escape hatch on the bus rather than sit next to you. 

It was finally over. Your mouth was practically watering at the thought of sitting down in your apartment, by yourself, with a bottle of wine, Netflix and Chinese takeout. 

You watched as the Flames won the game and as much as you didn’t want to notice it, you did. Matthew was playing like shit, barely dragging himself around the ice as he tried to keep up with his teammates. His personal play was entirely unremarkable and you were sure he was going to hear all about it as soon he got to the locker room. 

“How happy are you to be free of Tkachuk?” 

“So fucking happy, you’ve got no idea!” 

You laughed along with another of the assistants as the two of you helped organize the remaining luggage for the driver to load beneath the bus. 

“He played like shit today, might be bummed you two aren’t going to keep sleeping together.”

“Oh, don’t even. ‘Sleeping together’ implies something entirely different that what we were forced to do.”

“I know, I know,” he shook his head and laughed easily, “but honestly, did you think about it? I know you two aren’t exactly besties but come on, look at the man.” 

Did you think about it?

Of course you did. You thought about it multiple times. Matthew had stripped down in front of you, once completely and another time almost there. There was no denying that you’d gone to bed at least once thinking about what it would be like to spend the night enjoying yourself underneath him instead of sleeping next to his grumpy ass. 

You were taking that shit to the fucking grave, though.

“He’s a complete prick, and I don’t know if you heard, but I slept on the floor a few days ago, so no. I wouldn’t fuck that man with your dick.” 

That response sent him into a fit of laughter, “I mean I get that it was a rough week for you but I’ll be honest, I respectfully disagree. That pest could fucking get it anytime he wanted.” 

“Gross,” you playfully rolled your eyes as the two of you finished your task, “spend a few hours with him not in a strictly hockey setting and I promise you’ll change your mind.”

“Doubtful!” 

When all the luggage was loaded, the two of you made your way onto the bus. None of the players were there yet so you both took advantage of the back two rows that only contained two seats each. The entirety of the team didn’t completely fill the bus so you, stupidly, assumed you would sit alone on the trip home. 

Shoving your AirPods into your ears, you opened Spotify and settled into both the uncomfortable bus seat and the several hours long trip home. 

Not even ten minutes later, a body dropping into the seat next to you pulled your concentration out of your music and when you looked to see who it was that sat next to you, you couldn’t yourself from rolling your eyes. 

Matthew Tkachuk gave you a tight smile before rummaging around through his book bag and producing a paperback book. 

No he wasn’t. There was no way he was reading that. Dumb hockey bros weren’t into high fantasy. There was no fucking way he was reading ‘A Game of Thrones.’

He was though, and you watched him like a hawk as he parted the book where his mark was placed, almost halfway through, before you felt like you had to say something.

“You’re legitimately reading that book,” you pulled out an AirPod and gave him an inquiring look, “really?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged his shoulders, “I loved the show, figured I’d give the books a try.”

“They’re really good, much better than the show in my opinion.” 

Matthew’s smile stretched across his face, “that’s what I’m thinking! I know I’m barely into it but the books are so much more detailed.”

It was a cute moment, the two of you sharing an interest, but you were determined to remain all business with him.

“Why’d you sit here?” 

“I don’t know,” he ran a hand through his curls, “why not?”

A quick silence formed between the two of you before he tried again, “what are you listening to?” 

“Uh, Bring Me The Horizon, you probably won’t like it.” 

“Try me.” 

Matthew handed you his phone and you opened up his Spotify account and typed in the song you were listening to. 

“So the band is Bring Me The Horizon, right? What’s the song called?” 

“Sugar honey ice & tea.” 

“Okay.” 

++

You settled into a comfortable flow with Matthew. One of your pods was in his ear as he read AGOT and listened to the whatever you were playing. He didn’t mind when you fell asleep on his shoulder, leaning his head against yours as he continued reading his book. 

“Hey,” he was gentle, “wake up. We’re home.”

“What?” 

“We’re back in Calgary.”

“Oh, okay.” 

“Are you good?” 

“Yeah, I just, yeah. Can you ask someone if they wouldn’t mind taking me home? My car’s here but I’m so fucking tired.”

“I can take you home.”

“Matthew, no, you cant. You need to rest. I’m fine, I’ll be fine. I’ll get an Uber or something.” 

“No.”

He was firm in his response. Your eyes were heavy with sleep and you were in no condition to do anything on your own. 

“Whatever, I don’t want to fight with you, dickface.”

Matthew chuckled to himself as he guided you into the parking garage toward his car. You let him open the passenger door and help you into the Audi. 

“What’s your address?” 

You mumbled it quickly, earning a smile and a “we live in the same building” declaration from him. 

Far too sleepy to notice anything around you, you nodded in and out of sleep as Matthew drove from the area to your building. His quick glances in your direction were lost on you and it was only when he was trying to get you out of the car that you really woke up. 

“Fuck, Matt, I’m so sorry. I’m just so exhausted.” 

“I get it,” he helped you get your bags out of his trunk, “you didn’t have a great week and I had a lot to do with that.” 

The two of you headed up to your second floor apartment in silence, you trudging up the stairs with little effort while Matthew followed you, making sure you didn’t fall. 

“This is me. Where are you?” 

“Oh, uh,” his cheeks lit up red as his eyes traveled toward the ceiling.

“Of course, superstar Matty Tkachuk lives in the penthouse on the top floor,” you teased, “if only we could all be so lucky.” 

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with your apartment,” he slid around you let himself in as soon as you opened the door and surveyed his surroundings, “I really like it.” 

*

He didn’t expect her place to be so cute, but it was and he smiled wide when her black cat rubbed against his legs.

“He’s called Onyx.”

“I like him,” Matthew leaned down to scratch his ears, “who takes care of him when you’re gone?” 

“My neighbor. She’s a sweet lady.”

“I’m glad."

“I’m sure this is peasant shit compared to your place, but we do what we can.” 

He stopped petting Onyx and looked up to meet her eyes. 

“I would never think that about anyone. Jesus Christ, do you really think I’m that much of a fucking asshole?”

She didn’t say anything, but her face turned beet red and she turned away from him before turning back again.

“I’m sorry. I’m so used to you being awful that any small morsel of kindness is unfamiliar. Sorry.” 

“It’s fine. You should sleep though.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

He paused for a moment before breaking out in a big grin, “can I take Onyx up with me?”

“Absolutely not! Onyx is a heathen like the rest of us on the lower floors!”

“He deserves 360 degree views of Calgary.” 

You paused, turning to look directly at Matthew.

“Do you have that?”

“Yeah.” 

“I am so fucking jealous.” 

“You can come up and see too, as long as you bring Onyx.”

“As much as I don’t like you, I’m absolutely going to take you up on that, Matthew.”

He hated ‘Matthew’ and she knew it. He had tried to correct her a few times but she wasn’t budging. He wasn’t going to argue now, though, because she was adorable standing in her own apartment with her cute cat rubbing against her legs and—No. No, no, no. Matthew did not like this girl because this girl was fucking terrible and she hated him.

Except, he did like her and she was the opposite of terrible and she had an adorable cat. 

What the fuck was he doing?

[fungifaggot]

Please Take Me Home...

A/n: Back again with an annual post wahoo. Anyway, I hope yall are doing okay and staying safe. (Heads up I didn’t edit this well)

!Feel free to send constructive criticism!

Summary: Peter is drunk and alone and he wants to go home. Little did he know, asking you for a ride home would be one of the best decisions he ever made.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Swearing, underaged drinking, sad peter, Ion kno.

The music was loud and the air was warm. The house was full of nearly one hundred sweaty bodies colliding into one another, yet somehow Peter managed to still feel alone.

Deep breaths he told himself

Yet with every passing gasp for air the sensation of suffocating only grew stronger. He wanted to get out of there, and he wanted to get out now.

For the past hour he had been on a search for Ned and Mj,  and as much as it pained him to do so, he was coming to terms with the fact that they had left him, and therefore so did his ride. (Not that they'd ever do that, but let's just assume they thought he had already left or something)

Good god did he wish that he had never been talked into coming, and god did he wish that he wasn’t still there.

Yet no matter how hard he wished or how tight he shut his eyes, every time they opened he was still there. Surrounded. Not only by people, but with booze, loud music, and the disgusting warmth that was radiating off the flesh of every sweaty intoxicated teenager.

At that very moment everything was wrong. His head was throbbing, rhythmic pounding clouding any coherent thought he had, and surely the loud bass wasn’t helping

Peter knew that you also had attended the party, but subconsciously he had been trying his best to avoid you in any way possible.

You see, it wasn't because he disliked you or anything. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

You and Peter got along great. The bond between You, Mj, Ned, and Peter was unbreakable and he loved spending time with you, but despite your friendly personality, Peter was appalled at the idea of talking to you. He couldn’t help it. Any time he was around you, he reeked of insecurity. Feeling as though he wasn’t good enough. You weren’t popular per say, but the way you held yourself in such a laid back yet confident manner had somehow managed to leave a great impression with just about everyone. And it was that fact about you that made Peter doubt himself. He’d tell himself that he was much too boring or too ‘lame’ to be around you. And although he knew you’d never think that about him yourself, he’d instantaneously tense up and get painfully awkward the second you walked into the room, and that alone that made him fear your presence.

(It also didn't really help that he had the worst crush on you.. Like seriously the worst. As in staying up till 2:00 am stalking your social media type of bad.)

Despite Peter's dread, he was beginning to realize that he wasn't exactly given a choice. There was no one else in the house even remotely worth talking to except you. And with that in mind Peter began his second search of the night.

It only took him about two solid minutes to give up, in which he resorted to just tapping someone on the shoulder and asking.

“HEY! DO YOU KNOW WHERE (Y/N) IS?” He shouted, unable to hear his own voice over the sound of the blaring music.

“OH YEAH! HE’S UPSTAIRS IN THE ROOM TO THE LEFT...I THINK” Was the slurred response he received.

“OH UHH OKAY. THANK YOU” Peter replied.

“YEAH ANYTIME MAN” he heard behind him as he beelined to the staircase.

Inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth he reminded himself as he made his way up the stairs, trying to build up courage with every step he passed.

He took one last deep breath, attempting to calm the violent shaking occurring within his hands. He formed them into a fist and brought one up to the door, sending a knock that would echo throughout the hallway.

“Come in~” he heard from behind the door, giving him permission to enter.

As soon as the door creaked open, he was met face to face with a thick cloud of smoke. He stepped inside, taking in a deep breath, flooding his nose with the stench of marijuana before almost immediately making eye contact with you. 

“Peteyyyy” You sang out, halting the conversation you were previously having

,but before Peter had the chance to respond, his voice hitched in the back of his throat and an overwhelming feeling of warmth tremored throughout his body. He knew something bad was about to happen. He knew he was going to puke...

“Uhhh, s-sorry. Wrong room.” He muttered out, making a 180 degree turn before bolting out the door. His palms began to sweat and his mouth salivated heavily. He tried to breathe and suppress the violent urge to puke, but knew that there was no hope. He ran to the closest bathroom, not bothering to knock as he bursted through the door slamming it shut behind him. He made his way to the (thankfully already open) toilet and emptied out his stomach. He continued to gag, and eventually made himself comfortable on the bathroom floor when he felt he was finished. He flushed the contents down and rested his cheek on the toilet seat only to then perk his head up when he heard a light knock on the bathroom door.

“Hey Petey, you doin’ okay in there?”

“Y-yeah im okay! Just a little...tired that's all!” He rushed out, internally smacking himself in the face. “Just a little tired”? What the fuck Peter.

He heard the door open and rushed into a sitting position, trying to appear as normal.

You sauntered in, closing the toilet lid and taking a seat on it.

“You doin’ okay?” You repeated.

“Yeah, i’m just fine. Y’know.. like I said.” He responded, flashing you a forced smile.

You rolled your eyes at him and gave his hair a gentle pet.

“You sure? You seem... off.” you uttered, handing him a bottle of water.

Peter sighed accepting your offer, moving his eyes down to his feet.

“I just don’t really want to be here right now.” he said before taking a swig.

“Shit...I’m sorry.” you sighed out.

“There anything I could do to help?”

Peter brought his sorrow filled eyes back up to yours,

“I-is there any way you could take me home?”

“Fuck. Baby you know I would if I could, but I’m uh... not exactly sober right now.” You responded, guilt lacing your words, as you began to regret your decisions.

“Baby”. He knew it was a word that you’d throw around to any of your close friends, but he couldn't suppress the warm feeling that burned throughout his body when it rolled off your tongue.

Peter let out a shy chuckle continuing to sip from the bottle and replied

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

“Looks like neither of us are driving.” You said with a deep chuckle.

“Where’s Ned and Mj? I bet they’d help.” You asked after a few seconds of silence.

“Gone.”

“Oh...” Was all you could find yourself responding with.

You stood up from where you sat, extending your hand out to Peter.

“Lets get outta here. Even if it's just for a bit.” You said with a slanted smile.

You helped him up slowly, placing your free hand on his lower back, directing him towards the door.

Peter waited at the top of the stairs while you notified your friends of your departure.

As soon as you returned you took a hold of his hand and guided him down the stairs and out the door. A small gust of wind met your face as the door shut behind you. The sweat gathered on the back of Peter's neck began to fade and the throbbing in his head lessened. Not completely, but enough for it to be bearable.

“Feels good to be out of there huh?” You said almost as if you had read his mind, compelling him to nod in agreement.

The two of you began to walk in a random direction, hands still together. Peter's mind racing a million miles a minute.

“Where did Ned and Mj go?”

“Is (Y/n) annoyed that he has to spend time with me?”

“Oh god, my hands are sweating aren't they…”

“What... you nervous or somethin?” You giggled, raising your connected hands into the air and squishing  them together to emphasize the fact that they were sticky.

If it weren’t for the fact that it was nearly 1:00 in the morning and there were no cars out, Peter swore he would’ve jumped in front of one without hesitation.

“Oh um, i’m sorry...” He muttered, embarrassment flooding his system, so much to the point it  nearly put the boy in tears.

“Awe, c’mon I'm just kidding around” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Oh ha-haaa” Peter replied sarcastically, sending you a childish pout.

You bumped your hip into his as a friendly gesture, causing him to stumble a bit.

“It’s...cute.”

“Cute.” He muttered, moreso to himself than you.

The two of you continued to walk, not even sure where it was you planned on going. The silence grew thicker with every passing second, but Peter was much too caught up in his own thoughts to even notice. You released his grip, bringing him back to reality, and went to dig around your pocket.

“Aha-” you brought your hand back up, displaying a pair of airpods (or any bluetooth ones idrc)

“You want it?” You asked, wiggling your phone in the air.

“O-oh! Sure!” he said, snatching it and placing it in his ear.

You put on (S/n). (‘Song name’, I humbly recommend ‘One Last Time by Summer Salt’) Peter's nerves settled as the rhythm of the song blared through his ears, drowning out his pesky thoughts.

You grabbed his hand again and started to swing it to the beat. Peter stared at you in awe as you swayed your head from side to side, meandering a bit as you walked. Eventually you swung your arm around Peter's shoulder, forcing him to move with you. If it weren't for the alcohol he probably would have laughed it off and nudged you, but instead he immitated your actions and began to sway overdramatically. That continued until you came to an abrupt stop and pointed. Peter followed you gaze, finding himself staring at a park.

You looked at him for a long second before bolting off towards the park without warning.

“Hey!” Peter yelped out, out eventually following your lead.

You ran and clumsily dove into a swing set, pushing yourself up off the ground, in a ‘superman’ pose before you came back down, dragging your hands and feet through the wood chips. You swung back and forth a few times before Peter came up and pushed your back so you rose up  once again.

“Excuse you!” You laughed out flailing your legs in attempt to get him off of you, before ‘gracefully’ sliding off so that you stumbled for a second before ending up on your ass.

“You look like a dumbass” Peter said with a bright smile, kicking some wood chips at you.

You stood up, brushing your self off while looking him in the eyes

“and you love it” you said with a wink.

“Shut up” He said, lightly shoving your chest and turning away to hide his blush.

After that the two of you messed around, sliding down slides, and fucking around on the monkey bars until you eventually ended up laying down in a grass field looking up at the stars.

The two of you talked about everything. College, work, the party, Peters ‘internship’, everything.

“Why don’t we talk more?” you sighed out as you sat back up.

“I don’t know...” Peter lied, whilst clumsily rolling over to rest his head on your thigh.

“Well. We should.” You stated, moving so that you were looking down into his eyes. You stayed in the position for what felt like forever, enjoying the gentle wind, as you analyzed Peters features. 

You pulled out your phone, breaking the silence after reading the time

2:30 am 

“You wanna head back?” You asked, ruffling Peter's hair.

“Back where exactly?”

“My place?”

“Sure” Peter yawned.

You turned your music back up once you were both standing, hands interlocking once again as you started your adventure for the second time that night.

Once you returned to the house, you saw that the lights were still on and the music was very much still blaring. 

You opened the car door on Peters side before walking around and getting in yourself.

As the two of you got seated Peter handed you your head phone back and let his body relax.

You reached into the back and pulled up a soft blanket, handing it to Peter. 

You turned the radio on, keeping the volume low as you gave yourself some time to completely sober up. You turned to Peter so you could continue the conversation from earlier, only to be met with a sleeping boy.

Drool dribbled from his lips and slight snores emitted from him. His hair was a mess and boy did he not look comfortable, but you thought it was sweet nonetheless.

You pulled your phone out and snapped a picture of him.

You were definitely gonna show him that in the morning

After about another 30 minutes of simply relaxing, you turned the key and drove off.

Peter mumbled in his sleep as you nudged him for what was probably the hundredth time, only waking up when you smacked him in the back of the head. You led him to the apartment door and unlocked it, kicking your shoes off to the side as soon as you entered. 

Once you reached your room, you swung the door open, signaling for him to enter before you.

“Such a gentleman” Peter said in a groggy voice, before making himself comfortable and plopping onto your bed. He nearly fell back asleep until he was abruptly hit by a flock of clothes.

“There ya go- figured you’d want em’ since we're covered in dirt.” You chuckled

“Oh yeah...and this” tossing him a brand new toothbrush.

You tore your shirt off and chucked it into a random corner, grabbing some clean sweatpants as you made your way to the bathroom.

You turned around at the door, noticing that Peter had been staring at you

“I’ll be right back”

After brushing your teeth and changing, you came back out. Peter taking your previous position in the bathroom.

In the meantime you got comfortable, rearranging the pillows so that they were equally distributed.

Peter eventually came back out dressed in your clothes, looking almost as if he were drowning in your hoodie. If you could have snapped a picture right then and there, you would have, but simply seeing him like that was enough for you.

You lifted up the blanket signalling for him to join you, and he did so after turning off all the lights.

You both laid next to each other in the dark for a bit before you heard Peter turn to face you.

You turned your head just so that you could just make out his general figure. Despite it being dark, you could see that Peter was looking up at you with his puppy like eyes.

“Could you uhm... could you maybe hold me?” He stammered out.

You smiled softly, not that he could see it, and wrapped an arm around his chest, pulling him into you, and allowing himself to burrow in and get as warm as possible.

“Of course Peter” you whispered into his hair

“Of course...”

___________

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(literally let me know asap if my tags are annoying you LMAO)

[joontier]

Subliminal in Scrubs | V2; report xiv 

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: humor, workplace relationships

warnings: none to note

word count: 2.4k

g/n: Send me your thoughts?

[taglist]:  @nottodayjjk @ditttiii @zeharilisharaban @btsbunny07 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @aamxxrii @codeinebelle @btsmakesmehappy @stargukkie @moonchild1​ @starbear019​​

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) |  navi. | m.list

“Do you really have to leave me?” you drag the words out as you chew your dinner, one you insisted on having inside Ayoung’s apartment on her last day. You even add a cute little pout afterwards, hoping that Ayoung might reconsider her moving last minute. 

“_________, that was literally the third time you asked me tonight. One more and I think I might change my mind.” 

You sit up straighter, an expectant look on your face. “Really?” 

“I’m afraid not, __________. I’m even surprised you kept asking when you literally helped me pack the last of my stuff. Shouldn’t you have been doing the opposite if you wanted me to stay?” 

You let out a rather unattractive burp and a pretty loud one at that, then you sigh again for the nth time tonight, knowing it’s going to be a while before you find another neighbor that is as unbothered by your poor table etiquette as Ayoung. 

Speaking of neighbors, a coworker’s face pops into your mind and you’re suddenly reminded of your embarrassing encounter with Jungkook just the other day in the very corridor just a door away from where you were seated. “By the way...that guy you brought over the other day…” 

“Oh him?” 

You brace yourself for the bad news, tilting your head towards Ayoung while you wait for her response. “Yeah, I don’t think he’ll be moving in anytime soon.” 

“Oh,” comes your reply, shockingly nonchalant enough to mask the joy of not having Jungkook as your neighbor. Giddy, you prod her on, wanting to hear the rest of the story. “Shame though, he was such a hottie.” 

“How did you even meet him in the first place?” 

“Just last week I went to a cafe to study and partly cure a hangover from the previous night, I checked the post I uploaded for new possible tenants and Jungkook...that’s his name by the way...he was one of the first who sent a message about wanting to see the apartment in person, so we agreed to meet up on a later date.” Ayoung pauses for a moment, stacking a box on top of another. 

“But just a few moments later while I was reading, this boy came up to me and asked if I was...well me and he told me he was Jungkook. Eventually, he asked if I was free because he mentioned that he had nothing else to do that day and he would’ve appreciated it if he got to see the place and have a drink at the same time.” 

There’s a funny look on her face and you raise a brow questioningly. “Have you ever seen a man more attractive in just sweats?” Oh Christ. 

“I mean, most guys would look like a hobo in those, plus he’s probably dumb for just walking around in sweats with only 25 degrees outside but damn.... You know only truly hot men can pull off looks like that. And he surely was packing.” Shocked to the core, you stare at her with your mouth hanging open, not wanting to believe all of these were coming from your sweet sweet Ayoung. Especially not when they’re about Jungkook. 

“So I thought, why not right? I guess the hot chocolate I made wasn’t the only thing that was warm that night…” A suggestive smirk graces her lips and you scoot farther away from her, absolutely scandalized. 

Much to your chagrin, your mind betrays you with rather raunchy images. Goosebumps line the skin on your arms as the embarrassment comes back to you in waves. “Gosh Jungkook, that little fucker.” 

Ayoung creases her brows. “You know Jungkook?” 

Crap. Ayoung wasn’t supposed to end up knowing this. 

“Yeah I know him. Sort of.” 

“Oh, too bad. It would have been great if he moved in so you won’t have to deal with a total stranger for a neighbor. Where do you know Jungkook from?” 

You contemplate for a moment, wanting to weigh if it would be of any benefit having to tell the story of how you met Jungkook. Ultimately, you ended up sharing a brief background, missing out on a few vital points aka Jungkook being a total prick. 

You help Ayoung bring down the rest of her stuff to the lobby, wanting to see her off. “I wanted to bring you to your new apartment but I’ve got an early shift tomorrow, and being late won’t be a good record this early in my job.” 

“It’s alright, silly.” Ayoung leans in for a hug. “We’ll see each other again soon, yeah?” 

“You’re making it sound like I’m moving overseas, stop it!” 

You wait until she gets inside the cab she booked, waving at the car’s rear until it fully disappears from your sight. 

The next day you wake up freezing your ass off, even with you wrapped in a duvet burrito. You take a peek outside your window, grunting as a blanket of snow envelops everything in sight. Everything is white, and the gray trails on the road are the only thing that distinguishes the street from the sidewalk. 

You do your morning routine fairly quickly, spending the rest of your spare time watching people outside your window while you finish your coffee. As a motorbike moves along the length of the street in front of your building, you silently wish the driver a safe trip, hoping he or she didn’t have to use such a vehicle in this weather. 

You take another sip and Jimin instantly enters your scrambled thoughts, remembering how he mentioned he uses a scooter to and from work. There’s a side of you that is assured the Jimin is responsible enough to know how risky it is to use a scooter during the winter. 

The other half of your brain, though, isn’t convinced. Quickly, you set your mug aside, replacing it with your phone and dialing Jimin’s number. He answers after three rings. “_________?” 

“Hey Jimin, I know it’s too early for me to be calling you but I was wondering if you were going to use your scooter on your way to work today?” 

“I was--” 

“Because if you were planning to, don’t. It’s snowing really hard outside and I’m worried you’ll be taking your friend’s scooter on the slippery road….Would you mind if I’ll offer you a ride?” 

You know you were risking a lot, with your own car - your very own Camry which you don’t even trust. It has aged gracefully, and was clearly nearing its end but you knew four wheels was better than two in this snow. 

“I don’t...but I also wouldn’t want you to come all the way here to pick me up when I can just take the subway? Or the bus maybe…” 

“Would you rather pick one that asks for a fare or a free ride?” 

“You’re not exactly giving me a choice here, _________.”

“Great! ‘Cause I’m already on my way to pick you up.” 

“Thank you for the ride, sunbaenim.” Jungkook pulls on the handbrake before setting his hands on the Porsche’s steering wheel for the last time.

‘Someday’, he says to himself, someday he’ll get a car of his own. Someday. 

“Thank you for also letting me drive your car…” 

“She’s a beaut isn’t she?” the younger doctor nods, wanting to rub his palms over the dashboard in fascination, but then he wouldn’t have wanted the senior resident to think he was some sort of lunatic. 

Jungkook decides to keep his hands on his lap instead. 

“You live around the area?” 

“Yeah, just a few blocks from the garage…” 

“Really? Which apartment do you live in? I’m quite familiar with the area.” 

Jungkook is hesitant to mention the name of the building knowing that the apartment complex he stays at most likely has a reputation because it’s the cheapest he could find around the area. 

Before the intern opens his mouth to reply, Seokjin’s phone rings just on time, the sound startling the latter. He opens the car door and alights from the vehicle to get more reception. Jungkook grabs his bag from the back and follows after shortly. Seokjin points to his phone, mouthing that Jungkook doesn’t need to wait for him, so the intern bows to his senior in gratitude, before heading off to the main building. 

As he passes a vending machine, he remembers he wasn’t able to bring his jug with him today so he approaches the machine, scanning other options he could take with his water. He comes across a small carton of banana milk and a thought crosses his mind, a smirk playing on his lips as he adds the beverage to his purchase. 

Jungkook hurries to the on-call room, hoping his tiny plan will fall into place. 

“Thanks for the ride, ________. I owe you so much already. You’re too kind.” 

You wave Jimin off, expressing your worry and how you thought you wouldn’t be able to handle your conscience if you didn’t ask about his mode of transportation to work today. Jimin gives you a warm smile in return. 

“You’re a good friend, _________.” Jimin leans over the center console and gives you an awkward side hug, catching you completely off guard. 

“Woops! Sorry! I didn’t… wasn’t…” Jimin has his hands waving around in the air as he tries to apologize for hugging you out of the blue. “It’s fine, Jimin,” you laugh as you put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him. “It’s fine. You don’t have to worry about it.”

Tilting your head outside, you tell him that you both should get going and that you’ll be heading to the toilet first to get changed. While Jimin heads to the surgery department, you make your way to the parking lot’s toilets, bumping into the one and only banana-milk-thief Jeon Jungkook. 

“Hi _________, good morning!” He chirps, the uncharacteristically wide smile on his face throwing you off for a moment. 

At least somebody woke up on the right side of the bed today. Jungkook chuckles, and you realize you weren’t supposed to say that out loud, but you’re somewhat proud that you did, making your sentiments towards the guy as clear as day. 

“Bit rich coming from you miss grumpypants.” 

Your mouth falls open. “Excuse me?” 

“You heard me, darling. See ya later....grumpy.” Before Jungkook leaves, he manages to give you a quick noogie, definitely messing up what’s left of the quick messy bun you made before leaving your apartment. 

Taking in a deep, long breath, you calm your nerves down, deciding today wasn’t going to be the day Jungkook was gonna get to you. 

After your brief encounter at the parking lot, Jungkook heads quickly to the on-call room and looks for a place inconspicuous but visible enough for you to see. He plucks a sticky note from a stack from the shelf just above the table and grabs his pen from his chest pocket. 

Jungkook folds the yellow square into half and writes your name on it, just in case nobody would dare take a carton of milk for someone named after a dwarf from Snow White.  He then sticks the note on the moist packaging, hopeful that the slight sheen of water will help stick the paper onto the carton.

Recognizing Jimin’s voice from the door, Jungkook quickly hides his peace offering behind the files on the table, and pretends he’s reading the patient’s charts before Jimin nears where he’s standing. You and Soomin enter the room shortly afterwards. 

“Just in time!” Namjoon says, adjusting the large frame of his glasses. “Right, as you may already know from the orientation, I’m Kim Namjoon, resident, and specializing in neuro. I’ll be guiding you all throughout admissions and reports this morning while I am waiting for my Chiari decompression scheduled in a few hours.” 

Namjoon gathers the rest of the surgical interns before proceeding to the wards to do rounds with the group. He partners with the head nurse and another doctor from the night shift, updating the patient’s condition before moving on to the others. 

As soon as his rounds are done, he leads the group back to the on-call room to brief the interns on using the EMR system to keep a patient’s chart updated at all times. To speed up the charting, he asks everyone to come up in pairs and update the patient records. 

True to the plan he’d come up with at the spur of the moment, Namjoon and the interns manage to get the job done quicker than expected. With the night shift’s updates already uploaded, the group disperses to carry out the orders and responsibilities.

Jimin, with his throat parched after having come up and down multiple flights of stairs, decides to return to the on-call room to get something to drink. He breathlessly pages Jungkook about it, telling him he’ll get back to his partner after drinking. 

He no longer waits for Jungkook’s okay, too thirsty to even think straight. As Jimin goes through his stuff, he realizes he must have forgotten his jug inside your car but having to call you about it would have been too bothersome for you and him both. 

There’s a water dispenser in the room but there are no cups or mugs free for him to use - and too unsanitary as well. Jimin searches the room in desperation and spots a carton of banana milk just behind some of the patient’s charts. 

He makes a grab for the small carton, checking if it’s got any owner. There’s none written on the carton and no note stuck to it to indicate that it belongs to someone. He spots Yoongi on his phone just by the other corner of the room and approaches the senior resident. 

“Excuse me, sunbaenim. Is this yours?” He points to the carton in his hands. Yoongi shakes his head no. “Any name written on it? Some note perhaps?” 

“I couldn't find any.” 

“Well, it’s yours then. All food on the table is communal unless it’s otherwise labeled.” Yoongi shrugs his shoulders as he explains, giving Jimin a thumbs up afterwards. 

“Alright. Thanks sunbaenim.” 

Throat as dry as the Sahara, Jimin grabs the drink and punches the straw in as quickly as he could before finishing the drink in a few gulps. ‘Thank god for free banana milk.’ He thinks to himself before throwing the packaging away, now more energized than ever.

© joontier 2021

[onelastbreath-writes]

I Spy

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales/Fem!Reader (AFAB, no y/n)

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: Brief mention of bad(abusive/manipulative) parents, general adult topics, swearing.

Summary: You meet a cute guy at a bar, you date, you fall in love, and oops, it turns out you’ve both been lying about your careers. Classified only stays classified until you get assigned a mission together. (SpecOps&Spies, with Young!Frankie)

A/N: Hey guys, I was bad and started another fic. Whoops. This one is for Triple Frontier because I love that soft boi Francisco. The flavour of this fic, the vibe if you will, is basically the spiderman pointing meme. I’ve vaguely set the timeline to like mid-2000s? so I’ll be trying my best to stay true to technology and aesthetic of the era. There was so much denim. Anyways, that means I’m trying to write for about a 27-33 year old Frankie and a similarly aged reader. I don’t see this series being more than a couple chapters at best, so it’ll be short and sweet. Also, like, very little angst if I can help it; I just want this one to be a good, cute, fun read. Hope y’all enjoy! Xoxo

[AO3][Masterlist]

“So, you’re coming out tonight, right? You’re not busy or anything?”

“Please don’t say it like that, you know how busy work actually is. And I’m a grown woman; if I didn’t want to go to a shady dive bar with you and your very loud friends from the office, I’d say so,” You loved your best friend, and you missed spending time together, but you really couldn’t say the same for her co-workers.

You had nothing against the women she worked with, and you found that they were all perfectly lovely and usually quite fun to be around… it was just that when the alcohol came out, the volume control and verbal filters disappeared.

You wouldn’t say that barhopping was what you’d prefer to be doing tonight, along with more or less babysitting your friend and her friends, but you didn’t know when you’d next be able to squeeze in a night off to just hang out and have fun, so this was happening. You would laugh and smile and keep the drunk secretaries from going home with questionable people, and then you would look back on your ladies’ night with fond memories until you could eventually attend another.

You had known when you picked your career that it would be an around-the-clock, all-day, every-day sort of thing. You never deluded yourself into thinking you would have much of a social life or long-term relationships. Most partners, hell even most friends, would have a problem with you jetting off for weekends, or disappearing for days at a time under mountains of paperwork and appointments.

It just made your best friend that much more important to you. You’d met as kids, went through years of school beside each other, hung out, did stupid teenager things and then stupid young adult things together. You’d cried and laughed and fought and made up a million times, you’d gone to different colleges and still kept in touch, moved away, moved back, and you were still going strong. She was your ride-or-die, your anchor and your parachute and everything in between, so if you could use some of your precious, hoarded, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it time off to see her, that’s just what you’d do.

“You should take some of that fire, and direct it at your boss. Tell him no for a change. I’d love to see his face at that!” She meant well, always trying to look out for you and your health when it came to your beyond demanding job. You weren’t even allowed to tell her a fraction of what you were doing in your professional life, and she knew it, but that didn’t stop her from being ready to throw fists at your employer at a moment’s notice.

“One does not simply tell the über-rich that they don’t need to fly to Paris, again. Being a PA is a full-time nannying gig, except your charge is an adult who can argue when you say no, and you cannot put them on timeout when they’re being a brat. Where he goes, I go, and unless something drastic happens, it will probably continue on like that for a while.” She laughed at your jokes, and your heart hurt a little less at her glee. You knew she would never give up on you or blame you for your work being unpredictable, but that didn’t make the sting of last-minute cancels and missed outings hurt any less, for either of you.

“But it must be nice, just getting on a plane and going somewhere amazing at the drop of a hat. Travelling the world like a superstar, meeting people, having amazing adventures with mysterious strangers…”

“Easy there, Mamma Mia, your wanderlust is showing. And I’d take you with me in a heartbeat if I could. You were born to be a jetsetter, not to be stuck in this town with nothing but the office cubicle beside you to stare at. And I still think you should apply for one of those immersive culture grants you keep mooning over. They’d be fools not to fund your writing expedition!” She was an incredible person, three full degrees to her name in the time it took a normal student to get one, and a brain that could run miles around the rest of the professionals in her field. But she was tethered to this quiet backwater town, and she wasn’t free to fly like she deserved.

“You know I can’t just… go, like you can. My mom, it’d just break her heart… I don’t want to leave her alone, not after Dad,” You honestly doubted that you’d ever meet a woman more horrible and undeserving of her own daughter’s kindness. Helen was a parasite full of lies and manipulations and greed, and she had attached herself like a bad rash to your friend after she’d chased away the rest of her family members.

Your friend searched for the good in everyone, but you wished she’d stop looking for it at that home.

“You deserve your own happiness and freedom, and she should be encouraging you to spread your wings if and when you’re ready.” Politicking your friend was never something you enjoyed. She was the last person you wanted to use your negotiating credentials and sly subterfuge tactics against, but you wanted, needed, her safety and health more. You considered it almost bribery; dangling her dream future in front of her in exchange of being rid of the garbage in her life.

“Hey now, we’re getting way too deep into sad-drunk night conversations, and this is strictly a happy-fun-drunk night. Please leave all baggage and woes at the door, thank you!” You admitted your defeat and surrendered your verbal power point on Why Helen Needs to Disappear. You would get her next time for sure, give her the accelerant to burn down that bridge. “Anyways, the reason I called was to remind you of our haunt for the night. One of the girls, Kelly, you remember Kelly, found this adorable little hole in the wall. A total boys’ club apparently: darts, pool, sports games on the TV, but Kelly’s sister’s friend’s brother Tyler said the place was a favourite of the local army guys. So, if nothing else, we’ll at least have some hunks to look at for a while. It’ll be great!”

You jotted down the directions to the bar as she listed them, and the time you were expected to arrive there.

“Oh! And wear that cute little blue number you bought last spring; I know you still have it so don’t you dare lie. It makes your ass and legs look divine, and I think you could stand to make a new acquaintance tonight.” That Little Blue Number was buried in the back of your closet where you had hoped it would remain forever, but luck was not on your side tonight it seemed. But it did make you look, and feel, fantastic.  It was just so… breezy. “And heels! Real ones, not your cute little personal assistant kitten heels. Those black strappy ones would work like a dream!” You just sighed dramatically into the receiver and agreed to her demands.

“I’ll let you go now, and yes, I suppose I can be presentable tonight, dress and all. See-ya later!”

---

Hole in the wall was right. This place was basically underground it was so on the D.L. It was warm inside though, and in the middle of autumn with so much skin on display, you could not be more pleased to get away from the chilled outside air.

You would describe the interior as comfortable with a hint of rustic; lots of warm dark wood and low lights, mixed with the soft Latin music crooning in the background and the few patrons’ conversations adding to the ambience.

All in all, it was probably the nicest dive bar you’d been to in your hometown.

Your party was easy to spot where they had claimed a group of pushed together tables towards the far side of the establishment, and you carefully made your way over to them in your tricky high heels.

You said your hellos to returning faces and introduced yourself to the new additions, and accepted the chair you were pointed to and the drink pressed into your hand.

And so, the hours rolled.

You had enjoyed two fruity cocktails and a flaming shot before you called it quits on the alcohol for the night. You still had a few hours to sober up enough to drive home safely, and you would be able to help the girls get to their rides and ways home too. You appreciated having a social drink or two, but you didn’t care for hangovers and would happily take slightly tipsy over party-hard drunk anytime. Plus, your contract stated you were on-call, always, and you could be required to navigate high-stress negotiations at the drop of a hat. It was just better to cut yourself off, then reap the consequences of your actions later.

You tapped your friend’s shoulder as you walked past and leaned over to talk into her ear. “I’m getting some water for the table; do you want anything else?”

“Mmmm, no I think we’re good for now, thanks!” She was plastered already, but she had a huge grin on her face and was laughing at her co-workers’ stories, so you considered it a win of a night. You gave her a pat goodbye and swayed your way to the bar.

But you just were not accounting for the uneven floorboards, or how much your heels affected your currently less than steady equilibrium, and before you could blink you were teetering over into a nasty fall.

“Whoa there, easy does it, muñequita” Arms wrapped around you and pulled you back into a warm chest. “Careful now, don’t go twisting an ankle in those fancy shoes.”

You certainly did not account for the man you turned around to face. Wow.

His hands glided respectfully from where he had caught you around the waist to your still bent and held out elbows, steadying you as you swayed dangerously again.

Warm brown eyes, soft brown curls, and the sweetest smile you’d ever seen. It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest, and you knew that it wasn’t left over adrenaline from your near wipeout. He was gorgeous and handling you so gently, and you wanted to spend forever in that moment.

“Hey there, palomita, I’m Frankie, can I buy you a drink?”

[Next Part]

[gloriafc]

Paul imprinting on Emily's best friend -Part 1

You met Emily in high school. She's older and took you under her wing. When you decided to join the military she wrote to you once a week, sending you pictures of the scenery and occasional recipes for you to try.

You took the advantage of going to school with military resources, earning your medical degree and becoming an on-base doctor but also gaining the skills of a marine.

While in the military you were attacked by someone with a knife and now have scars running down your thigh, just like the ones on Emily's face. Emily hates the story, but Sam finds it cool

You've met Sam, from the occasional trips you managed to take home during your deployment, and he'll joke around calling you a troublemaker and say that every time she goes somewhere with you, the two of you end up in trouble. But he loves the friendship you have with her, and thinks of you as a sister, he's happy she has someone outside of the pack to hang around with, someone normal.

"I'm not going to get her in trouble." "Last time you said that, I had to pick up two drunk messes from the bar. Then you proceeded to kick me out of my bed so you could finish your girl's night." "Well yeah it's called girls night, not girls night plus the boyfriend."

Despite being Emily's best friend the only pack members you've met are Seth and Leah, only because they're her cousins. The guys have seen pictures of you around Emily's house, but that's a given, you have pictures of her around your house as well.

You've heard stories from Emily about the boys, and nicknamed them Sam's children.

Since you had a couple days off from work Emily talked you into a sleepover at her house, she banned the boys from coming over knowing that they can get loud and would ruin her time with her best friend.

Sam ended up calling them to meet up for a patrol the next day warning them to be quiet. You and Emily were passed out on an air mattress in the living room, having fallen asleep at five in the morning after a night of talking, watching movies, and Sam can only wonder what else you two got into.

Despite being told to be quiet, they walked in like they usually do. They all stopped when they saw Sam's face, "I told you to be quiet. Now they're waking up." Sam can only gesture to where you and Emily are starting to stir, Emily just rolls over but you push yourself up onto your arms with a glare directed towards Sam, "Do you know what time I went to sleep?" "Too late o'clock." You can only throw the pillow you're using, hitting him square in the face before flopping down on the mattress.

Sam can only shake his head and continue drinking his coffee as he tosses the pillow back on the mattress, it landing on your head making you grunt. When he turns to look at the boys he freezes seeing Paul frozen and staring at you.

When everyone comes back from patrol around noon, you and Emily are barely finishing getting ready and making lunch. You can only stare at how much food she pulls out before helping her. She has you make your special potato salad, knowing the boys will absolutely love it.

As everyone returns you're grabbing your purse to head to work, Sam can only grin as he throws his arm over your shoulder smelling the potato salad on the counter, "You know sometimes I don't hate you Y/L/N." "Oh please. You love me all the time Uley." You wave bye to Emily, not stopping to catch names of the new faces, but hug Seth and Leah on your way out.

As Emily's finishing putting the sandwiches together for everyone Sam starts piling a huge helping of potato salad on his plate, they boys all look at him, noticing it isn't Emily's. Finally Jared speaks up, "It can't be that good. It's not even Em's." Emily just smiles and shakes her head pushing the bowl in the center after taking some, "Who do you think taught me how to make potato salad. I've never been able to perfect it, there's just something Y/N does and I can't figure it out." Each boy takes a bite before groaning in happiness, Jared looking at Paul when Emily is out of earshot, "Your imprint can cook. We can keep her." Jared gets slapped upside the head by Sam.

After a couple days of going back and forth of who should tell Emily Paul imprinted on her best friend, Sam can only roll his eyes as he approaches the woman who's talking to you over the phone while reading a recipe book.

"I'm borrowing Emily." "What! No! I need help!" "She'll call you back." "ULEY! DON'T YOU-" Emily can only look at her phone before looking at Sam and the boys behind him while crossing her arms, "You have about five seconds before she calls back, or five minutes before she's on the front porch." Sam can only chuckle before looking at Paul then back to Emily. "Paul imprinted. On Y/N"

Emily can only stare in shock before it starts to register in her head, "Y/N Y/N. My Y/N. Best friend Y/N. With Paul." Sam can only shake his head, "Yup."

Emily found a way to get you to meet the guys, more specifically Paul. In a way he was grateful, but he also wanted to be able to talk to you without Emily meddling.

Eventually he did work up the nerve to ask for your number, with the help of Sam distracting Emily. After a while the two of you began talking. He was dead set on trying to make you catch feelings for him before you found out about the legends and the imprint, but he quickly found out that wouldn't be possible.

The pack walked in on you desperately trying to get Emily to open the door to the room. "Come on Em. Don't make me pick the lock. It's only for a couple months." "You just came back! You can't leave again!" Everyone can hear Emily's voice crack, like she's been crying, making Sam instantly try to open the door as he looks at you, "What happened?"

Before you can say anything Emily rips open the door with tears streaming down her face, "She's leaving." Sam's quick to pull her into a hug as he looks at you. You finally notice everyone staring at you, your eyes fall on the man you've quickly started to fall for and spend all your free time texting.

You quickly turn your attention to Sam's questioning eyes and answer the question everyone wants to ask, "I'm getting deployed. They need more medical staff on base in Afghanistan. Sargeant personally came down to inform me. He said anywhere between 3 months and 2 years. I. I leave within the next week or so."

Feeling everyone's eyes on you starts to feel like it's suffocating you. You've built a bond with everyone, some stronger than others, so you can't help but push past everyone to head outside and climb into your car, leaving.

Paul found you at the beach, staring at the waves with your toes in the sand. He sat himself down next to you in silence for a couple minutes. He ran his finger down one of the scars on your thigh, "Tell the story."

You spoke without moving your eyes off of the water, "My first tour. We were on our way back to base, checking a few things, making sure it was safe. A guy we missed. Jumped out with a knife, I was the closest and the smallest so he went for me. Didn't think he expected me to fight back. He got a couple good ones in, before he was knocked off. Had to stitch myself closed before I bled out."

Paul doesn't say anything when you finish talking, you just sigh and put your head on your arms and close your eyes, "She does this every time. She knows it's my job. It's what I love doing." "She just doesn't want you to leave. No one does."

When there's only a couple days until you leave Sam and Paul show úp at your door, "What are you doing here?" "There's something you need to know."

They proceed to tell you about the legends, how they're real and goes on to tell you about imprints. Sam proceeds to tell you, "It's why Emily's so upset. She feels that the imprint would keep you here, with her."

You stare at the ground in silence with your arms crossed, not knowing what to think. It's obvious you're being told, well one because they just flat out said you're Paul's soulmate, but because you're leaving and there's a small chance you won't return.

Sam leaves saying this isn't a conversation he needs to be in, before showing himself out.

"Say something." Your eyes break away from the floor to Paul's face, who is searching yours for... anything. "What does this mean?" He's taken back, he never thought about what the imprint would mean to the two of you, most imprints get together almost immediately, but that doesn't seem possible for the two of you. "I. Don't know."

The two of you stay up until almost 3 in the morning trying to figure out what to do. Finally deciding on keeping the same relationship you already have, and if it moves forward, that happens on its own.

When the day comes for you to leave, everyone wants to send you off. They're all so used to seeing you in regular clothes that they almost can't recognize you in uniform. There's a big feeling of sadness above everyone's heads, everyone hugs you before your flight gets called. Paul and Emily's hugs last the longest, and you almost don't let go. "Captain, it's time to go." "I'm coming lieutenant."

You can't even bring yourself to look back as you board the plane. Knowing if you do, you'll go against orders and stay.

Every week you get a giant envelope filled with smaller envelopes with letters from everyone. You laugh as you look at the pictures, sending back some of your own. Occasionally you're able to FaceTime with everyone but that's rare.

As more time passes, through letters to and from Paul, your bond strengthens. You hear from almost everyone that he snaps more but is quick to apologise, no one blaming him since his imprint is in a different country. When it hits 7 months of you being gone, you become his girlfriend. When you're homesick, you reread that letter and push through, counting the days until you get to go home.

After almost a year of you being deployed, you finally get to go home. You don't tell anyone except Paul about when you get to go home. Anytime Emily asks, you tell her you're not sure, but you know sometime soon.

As soon as you walk through the gates, you're swept off your feet. You and Paul stand there for what feels like hours in his arms, finally feeling like you're home before you separate. He's quick to pull you to his car, so he can take you home, knowing you want to shower before heading to Emily's to surprise her and eat.

The whole ride you make small talk, his hand never leaving yours, smiles never leaving your faces until you're in your house and grabbing clothes to change into.

You take a quick shower happy to use your own soap and scented lotion. You happily skip into your living room feeling so comfortable in your skinny jeans and crop top. You slip on your sneakers before pulling Paul out of the house so you can see your best friend.

When you get to Emily's Paul goes in first, everyone noticing he's in a better mood. "Did you FaceTime her? Without us!" Paul can only shake his head before you burst in and tackle Emily to the ground, it taking her a second to register what just happened before Paul points, "That's why."

It takes a second for it to register in Emily's head, what just happened. As soon as it does, she immediately starts squeezing you so tight Paul can practically feel it. "YOURE HERE!" You can only smile down at her while nodding. The first words to leave your mouth, "Please tell me you just made food. I've eaten MRE's for almost a year."

[ddarker-dreams]

Overhaul, Dabi, and Shigaraki’s response to their darling saying they hate them

Overhaul: 

Kai is aware of himself. He’s delusional in certain aspects, but he knows that everything he’s doing -- and will do to you -- is against your will. Anytime a person is stripped of their free will, it’s expected for them to act out in fits of rage. You were no exception to this, as you responded negatively as he new you would.

He wouldn’t have any outward reaction to the words, not anything that you could pick up on at least. Kai would get quiet, mouth set in a straight line.  Staring down at your vulnerable form, and your quivering lips. He realizes how sick you must be, that even now you can’t understand what he’s doing is for your own good.

If you had interrupted his speaking with the words, after pausing, he would regain his composure and continue where he left off. It’s unnerving how he doesn’t show any response,  and you wonder if the words meant anything to him. 

At night, when he’s away from the stress of his position and taking care of you, he’d have time to think. Reflecting on your words, a foreign bitterness settling into his chest. He initially told himself that you were only acting on emotion, that the words were devoid of truth. This is what he ultimately chooses to believe.

For a few weeks, if even possible, he was even colder to you. If you were going to treat him so poorly, why should he be kind to you? He’s hoping that the distance he has with you will serve as a sufficient punishment. That you’ll crave human contact so badly, that you’ll grovel before him and beg for forgiveness.

Whether you do this or not is ultimately up to you. But despite wondering if the words had upset him originally, you soon come to the conclusion that it must’ve hurt. It’s surprising to you, since you’ve never seen Kai show anything resembling human emotions.

Dabi:

It isn’t unusual for Dabi to provoke you. You were growing more accustomed to his malicious nature, that often poked and prodded at your patience. From small, flirtatious comments, to unwanted touches. You tried your best to exercise self control, not wanting to give him the reactions he so desperately craves from you.

But you can’t always stay strong, you are human after all. A certain comment about how you must prefer your life now, instead of before, finally causes you to snap. The venomous words slip from your lips before you can stop them, and for a moment, it wipes the smug expression of Dabi’s face.

He carefully mulls over your words, humming lowly; dangerously. Immediately, you want nothing more than to shrink into the wall next to you. In a predator like stance, he walks over to you, slow and unnerving. There’s a look in his eyes you don’t understand, but recognize as bad.

His slower movements gone, he’ll lurch at you, slamming you against the wall. You wince at the contact, your head dizzy from the quick sensation and sudden closeness. Dabi’s cologne fills your nose as he towers over you, lifting your head to meet his eyes with his thumb. You don’t want to look him in the eye, his gaze no longer human.

“I gotta admit, that stung, babe. You tryin’ to hurt my feelings?”

It’s warm, to a constricting degree. You recognize it as his quirk, flecks of blue flaring in the corner of your eye. Before you could even utter an apology, Dabi continues with his taunts. An unnatural grin stretches across his face.

“There are certain ways you can earn my forgiveness, though...”

You know you fucked up, he knows you fucked up. His hands were roughly caressing you, his pupils dilated. What was he going to do with his disobedient possession?

Tomura:

Shigaraki views you in a simple, endearing light. He loves you, and feels fuzzy around you. He doesn’t understand your resistance to him, and nothing you say would ever make him understand. It would only serve to upset him, so you found yourself speaking and acting carefully in his presence. 

He was threatening in his own way, since you know who he is and what he’s done. What he could do to you, if he ever lost control. This looming threat placated you enough to stop you from making stupid decisions before, but you can’t always control yourself.

It’s been months since you’ve been outside. Since you’ve felt the warmth of the skin against your skin, since fresh air filled your lungs. You’ve remained in his dingy room, under constant guard. There was no freedom for you, and it was starting to get to you.

You wanted to reason with him, you let him see things your way. You begged, you promised that you’d be good. But he still insisted that you stay inside, growing increasingly aggravated at you pressing him. Normally, you would relent when you saw him scratching at his neck. But today, you didn’t.

At another denial, you snapped at him. Speaking the three words, regret immediately filling you when he began furiously scratching at his skin. You could see blood already threatening to come out, his breathing heavy and unsteady.

His eyes were bloodshot, looking at you with predator like intent. It’s horrifying how fast he can move, how his body appears in front in you in less than a second. Tomura’s hair obscures his face, as he reaches out towards you.

You close your eyes, wondering if this would be it -- if he was finally going to kill you. Chest heaving, his hand hovers dangerously close to your neck. One finger being placed. Two, three. Then four. But he stops. 

He leaves the room, and you hear various crashing noises fading away as he had left you. Your own legs feeling weak, your heart racing at an unhealthy rate. You felt his blood lust at your rejection, and feel guilt for whoever he would take out his feelings on. 

[obeymestudentcouncil]

Would I be able to get smut prompts 41: “The only way you’re getting off is on my thigh.” and 16: "Make me." For Lucifer and fem!MC, please?

As usual, here there be smut:

Trigger warnings:  Drugs-aphrodisiacs 

Glancing at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time tonight, you sighed. It was getting late, but Lucifer was still at his desk, working on some reports or whatever.  Setting your book aside, you walk over to stand in front of him.  “Lucifer? Can we please go to bed now?  You’ve been working on that for hours now.”

 He didn’t even look up, his pen scratching across the paper in his small, neat script.  “If you’re tired, go on to bed.  I have to get this done before the council meeting tomorrow.”

 You huffed, leaning against the edge of the desk with one hip.  Smirking to yourself as an idea came to you, you pushed off the desk, Lucifer grunting in irritation as the motion almost led to a mistake in his writing.  Looking up finally, he raised an eyebrow at you.  You slowly slid your pants down your legs, hanging them over the arm of the couch before turning your back to him as you pulled your shirt over your head.  Glancing over your shoulder, you were pleased to see him at least leaning back in his chair.  His eyes were focused entirely on your body, clothed only in your panties.  A small smile twitched at the corner of his lips as he crossed his arms over his chest, trying to keep the illusion of irritation at the interruption.

You took your time walking around to the desk to him, looping your arms over his shoulders, kissing along his jaw and the corner of his mouth.  “At least take a break?  Then I’ll go to bed and leave you alone.”

 He turned his head to look at you.  “We both know that if I take a break to indulge in you, I won’t be stopping anytime soon.”  

 He hissed in a breath as one of your hands trailed down his chest to rest over the bulge just starting to form in his pants.  His hands went to your hips, tugging you forward until you were straddling one of his thighs, shifting his weight in the chair so that he could press it against your core fully.  You rolled your hips, grinding along his thigh as you loosened the knot on his tie, nipping at his earlobe.  “Please?  You can always finish that report in the morning; the meeting isn’t until after classes anyway.”

 Lucifer gently took your hands away from where you were starting to unbutton his shirt, holding both of your wrists behind your back with one hand.  He pressed his lips to yours, smirking against your mouth as you melted into the kiss, distracting you enough that you didn’t notice him binding your hands with his tie until the knots were secure. You tried to tug your hands free but you knew even before you did that there was no way you’d get loose; he was too skilled at getting the knots tight enough to hold but not so tight that they’d damage your wrists.  He moved, pulling the chair back to the desk, already returning his focus to the papers in front of him as you whined.  Glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, he smirked as he moved his leg again, the friction against you making you buck your hips in response.  “The only way you’re getting off tonight, dear, is on my thigh.”

 You grumbled, mock glaring at him.  “Make me.”

 The sound of his pen hitting the desk was loud.  He chuckled low in his throat; “That can be arranged.”  You heard a drawer in the desk open, the sound of several small somethings rattling around in a case that he set on the desktop.  His gloved fingers pressed to your lips.  “Open.”  You immediately obeyed the command, the smell and taste of the leather of his gloves invading your senses as two fingers pressed a tablet to your tongue, almost instantly starting to dissolve.  The fingers withdrew and you closed your lips again, swallowing the remnants of the tablet at the unspoken command in his gaze.  He put the case away, watching you until the first wave of desire hit your blood.  You moaned as everything in your lower belly tightened and the warm feeling of wetness started seeping from your core. Lucifer turned back to his work with a satisfied smirk.

 You whimpered as need washed over you to a degree you’d only ever felt after he’d left you edged for hours.  You could swear you could hear the pounding of your heart in your ears, the pulse driving you to grind down on his thigh.  You thought you heard him laugh under his breath in victory, making your face flame with embarrassment.  He kept one hand on your back, just over your bound wrists, to help you keep your balance but otherwise, he made no move to actively touch you.  Writhing against him, you dropped your head to his shoulder, trying to change the angle of your hips to be able to feel that friction against your clit.  The drug in your system kept driving your desire higher, needy moans you muffled with your mouth to his shoulder.  

 Lucifer could have been a statue for his unflappable calm as he continued to work while you rocked and rolled your hips along his leg.  You were soaking wet, more than enough to be leaving a stain on his pants, something you took vindictive pleasure in. Finally, you found the angle you needed, your climax tearing through you until you saw stars.  Lucifer’s hand began moving in slow circles over your back as you shuddered, panting and mewling as the last of the desire washed out of your system.

 You heard his pen click against the desktop again before his hand threaded through your hair.  His other hand gently unbound your wrists, rubbing each carefully before letting them go.  A soft brush of lips against the side of your head drew you to turn and look at him.

 “And now I’ve finished the report.”  He helped you to your feet, on hand resting against the small of your back.  “Now you have my undivided attention, the rest of the night.”

[vibranium-chakra]

The Man Upstairs

A/N: Someone on here was interested in a tidbit where this happened with a BP guy, so I thought I'd try my hand at writing it lol. Something quick, something light.

________________________________________________________________

Faux locs still slightly wet and skin moisturized from a shower, you lay across your bed scrolling through Instagram. It was finally Friday and you'd been planning some self-care all week. Work was stressful, and a little drama between your friends left your brain fried and drained, so this time was vital. You planned on ordering your favorite meal via DoorDash while catching up on your favorite YouTubers, and then starting on a new Netflix series everyone on your timeline was talking about. Phone on Do Not Disturb. No friends, no annoying work emails; just Y/N and what Y/N wants.

Order placed and YouTube playing, you were cozy and at peace on the couch. To your dismay, you could've sworn you heard heavy boots stalk up the stairwell to the units above.You paused the video to listen intently, seeing if those footsteps would stop at the apartment above you. The acoustics and solidarity of the complex was shit, so if they took out their keys to open the door you'd hear it. A few moments passed by and nothing. Maybe they went away. A small sigh escaped your lips as you kicked your feet back up on the sectional.

CLANK

The sound of the metal door closing was audible. Were you trippin'? Just then, the heavy boots sound was back for a minute until it just sounded like regular footsteps, then the music started.

Shit. It was them.

Though the music was fairly low for now, you couldn't help the small rain cloud that crowded your mood. It wasn't a huge deal, but the Virgo in you hated when things didn't go according to plan. However, if he kept it at this volume, things may be okay you figured. A few clicks of the volume up on the TV and you continued your evening.

_____________________________

Your settled mood lasted for about an hour. As the music continued and got louder, you would just turn up the TV. But it was getting ridiculous. You tried to listen for it outside the door, and even asked your DoorDash deliverer if they could hear it. Between the constant beating of the bass between the walls and the occasional thump of feet, you were at wit's end. Your new neighbor needed an advisory welcome, and you were glad to give it.

You slipped into your brown plush slides, locking your door behind you as you sauntered up the stairwell to the third floor. The cold wind would've normally bothered you, but you were too tunnel-visioned to care. You took a deep breath once you arrived at unit 305, rehearsing in your head just how you would have this convo. Unfortunately, this wasn't your first time so you had a good idea. Would it be a college student? A young single mother with a rambunctious child? A drug dealer with no sense of hearing? You rapped 4 times with heavy knuckles against the door, wrapping yourself in your arms as you waited. You unintentionally stared down at your pedicured white toes as the door opened, light from the inside hitting your feet.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt you. I'm-" your speech was cut short as you peered up at this neighbor. You weren't sure what you expected, but you didn't anticipate this.

A black man, some inches taller than you, stood inside. The first thing you noticed was his torso, scattered with uniform cuts along his abs, chest and forearms. Did he do them himself? What did they mean? Why did they look so damn good? They glistened with sweat by way of the dining room ceiling light; as a matter of fact all of him did. He was shirtless. He must've been working out. The room released an aroma of some kind of oil and sweat.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to come up and say hi." His voice snatched you from your thoughts. Gruff, but buttery smooth and foreign. He wasn't from around here. For God's sake you would've noticed him anywhere in town. You looked up to meet his eyes nervously, swallowing spit before you spoke. Sexy man was expecting you?

"Ah-h yeah, hey I'm from downstairs."

"I know, you're the one with the plants on the balcony," he chuckled a little before finishing, "that's dope, ma. I'm Erik, I just moved in last month."

He placed his hand out to shake, sporting a killer smile that sat under gold fangs and a set of dimples. Did Jesus send this man? You placed your hand in his, plastering on a polite smile to cover your lack of words.

"Y/N, it's nice to meet you," you announced back, finding comfort in his surprisingly soft hand in yours.

"Y/N, pretty. What can I do for you miss Y/N?" He recited your name confidently, and you watched his lips move as if they were in slow motion. A cold breeze shivered up your arm, reminding you why you were out here in the 48 degree weather in the first place.

"I came up about the music, and the working out."

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't think anyone was here," he paused to turn the music down from his phone.

"It's fine. Well it's not, but thank you. I know you're usually gone in the daytime and I'm gone at night, so I guess it never came up."

"You been clocking me miss?" He leaned against the doorway, smirking and folding his muscular arms. Okay nigga, relax.

"Actually I haven't, I just noticed the unknown Jaguar parked near mine and figured it had to be yours." You shrugged a little. "It's nice."

"So you haven't been watching me, just my car. Okay I'll take it, thank you." His boldness prompted shy chuckles from you. The smooth motherfucker. He knew he was attractive and had no problem using it to his advantage. Granted, you probably would've gave him some play in a heartbeat. But he didn't need to know that.

"Anything else I can help you with miss Y/N?" Stop saying my damn name like that, you thought. The offer sounded innocent, but his sly, lip-biting survey of your body up and down held an innuendo of something else. You looked down at yourself, noticing your semi-hardened nipples protruding against your shirt and the beginning of ash forming against your ankles. Your arms flew up in defense, folding against your chest. Erik wasn't the least bit fazed by your nervousness, facial expression still full of interest.

"Uhhh no, that's all. You know actually, there's a gym nearby if you need to work out. It's 24 hours."

"Yeah? I'll have to have you show me sometime beautiful. You seem pretty well acquainted with the area," he crossed his chiseled arms across his chest, drawing your attention back to his ripped torso. You needed to get out of this now.

"Sure, I'll show you sometime. Thank you again for the music."

"No problem, you feel free to come up and fuss at me anytime miss Y/N."You turned towards the stairwell, and heard the metal door meet the lock as you descended down. You let out a breath you didn't know you were even holding. While you did value your free time and peace, Erik was definitely worth the upstairs trip. The image of his smile and perfect body clouded your brain for the rest of the night in Unit 205.

[nymp21]

Secret Crush

You’re the youngest Danvers (Alex biological’s sister) and you move to National City to study. What will happen, when you’ll find out you have a crush on one of your teacher. And that teacher is Lena Luthor herself. Your sister besfriend.

Gifs are not mine

Pairing : littledanvers reader x Lena Luthor

Warnings : English is not my langage and eventual smut later in chapters

Part 1

  You were currently eating your breakfast with energy when Kara came of the bathroom. She was making up her hair. « Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you at Uni (Y/N) » « No thanks Kar’! I will go there by bus. It will be more normal than being drop by Supergirl flying » you laughed. « I meant by car » she responded, rolling her eyes. You were leaving with your sister for one week now and you could say Kara was very cool !That’s why you pick your super sister when you had to choose where to live during the semesters of your degree. And because Alex was living with Maggie so…technically you didn’t have much choice. You were preparing a master degree both in litterature and business (you wanted to be an editor.) and National City had got the best college to finish your studies. Today was the first day of the semester, and you knew you would have so much works to do to succeed and pass. « Anyway, do you need something for lunch ? O can make you a sandwich » « With butternutt ? » « Of course ! Who do you think I am ? » she said with an amused smirk. You smiled at her response : « you’re the best sister but don’t say that to Alex, she will be mad at me. » She chuckled and started making your food for lunch then she gave it to you. You took it, thanked her and grabbed your bag. « See you later Kara » you said. « By sweetheart… call me if you feel nervous or anything » « Kara i’m not a kid who is afraid of the first day at school anymore. » « Maybe, but you’ll always be our little baby danvers » she said with a smirk. You groaned and closed the door behind you when you heard her laugh. She is such a dork. _________________________________________ It was the last course of the day. Your firsts were very interesting and you find yourself doing some research at the Library between two of them. You were so concentrated, you didn’t see the time fly and you were late. So you ran in the corridors of the college, cursing between your teeth for being such an idiot ! You opened the door of the room, where were sitting the others students who stared at you instantly. You were quite shy in public so you felt embarrassment rushing through you. « Well ! Welcome to business course. Glad to see you know punctuality. » You turn you head to your right, to see the most beautiful woman you ever met. Her eyes piercing as hell were as blue as the see that you could drown in them. Her hair was perfectly made, and her lips were as red as a rose. She was breathtaking, and you didn’t know how to make words. And you were blushing with shame as you heard some of the other students chuckle at her ironical comment. « The cat got your tongue ? When we are late, we apologise. »she said. And you seemed to come back from your starring « I’m sorry I was in the library, I didn’t see the time. » She starred at you with a strange smile on her lips and you felt more uncomfortable. « Well, Miss I’m happy to know that you seem to be a good student by already making research at the libraby. » You heart skipped a beat. Her smile were so intimidating and… sexy. What!? Stop thinking with your hormone (Y/N) ! She is your professor for godsakes! « You can sit. As I was saying to your classmates,I’m Lena Luthor. I will teach you business course this semester. » Holy shit ! Your professor was Lena Fucking Luthor ! Not only one of the most intelligent woman of the city… even the world -You have read all her articles and you admired her - but also Kara’s best friend ! She was supposed to present her to you tonight at game night. She had said : « I’m sure you will like each others. You have so much in common . Yeah… the college for example. Man this will be so awkard ! Plus, you didn’t imagine that your sister’s best friend would make you blush so hard. She was very intimidating in her black dress and high heels. Your shyness was showing as you set at a free chair trying to be discrete. « As you may know, I’m the CEO of L-Corp which means I can handle a society. » she continues as if nothing as interrupted her. « So I expect you to be as serious as possible this semester. I will show you any mercy. » If her smile could make you think she was kidding, her eyes were dead serious. Then she began her lesson, with some definitions. You were happy no one were paying attention to you and, you show yourself very attentive, because you didn’t want to make her say any other comment about you. She was very passionate and interesting as you could imagine. Kara was right when she said she may seem cold at first. She seems so indeed. But when she talked about her job, she has a bright smile. The two hours spent like it was ten minutes and then you were getting out the room, deep in your thoughts. How would you do to avoid game night ? Because you couldn’t do game night with your professor right ? This situation was making you uncomfortable and stressed for an unknown reason. Well, you were not a relaxed person and this would be awkward. Plus she made you blushing and you hoped she didn’t notice it ! Yes she was very intimidating and you were very very embarrassed in front of her. —————————— The doorbell rings and Kara opened the door as you put the chips in a bowl. You didn’t succeed to avoid game night. Kara was good at convincing you with her puppy eyes and her « please, please, please,please,please,please » so annoying you were obliged. You sighed as you put the plate of pizza on the table, with the chips. Luckily for you Lena Luthor hasn’t confirmed her presence tonight. Apparently she wasn’t sure she could come. Kara was upset bit you were relieved and hoping she wouldn’t make it to game night. But you were stressed anytime the doorbell rings. Winn was already there. You liked him. He was your favorite nerd. You had many things in common and he was like a brother to you. « Hi Winn ! » you heard « Hi baby danvers ». And you feel Maggie kiss your cheek. « How was this first day in College. » « Great » you responded. « Just great ? » she frowned. « She didn’t say much to me earlier. Maybe she found a boyfriend or a girlfriend and it was love at first sight» said Kara ,bringing the wine Alex had give her on the table and smiling at you. You rolled your eyes. Kara and Maggie were constantly teasing you about a potential boyfriend/girlfriend. The Did want to see you with someone. This was quite annoying, and they knew that. « Maybe some wine will make you talk » Maggie said with a smirk. « Oh no Sawyers I forbid you to get my sister drunk tonight !» told Alex as she embrassed you in her arms. « Hi sweetie. Don’t let them tease you. » « I don’t. I just plan to bit them at the game tonight. » « You wish baby Danvers. I improved myself since last time and you’re not ready for my skilled in monopoly. » You laughed. Maggie was a total looser in monopoly because she didn’t like the game. But you appreciated the effort she maid to try to win. You knew she wouldn’t make it. You were unbitten at this game. But in opposite she was an absolute killer at Jungle Speed and Kara was the queen of the time’s up. « How can you improve skills at monopoly… it’s nonsense » comment Winn. « (Y/N) is just better than you. Accept it. » You smiled wild at the comment and out your tongue at your sister’s girlfriend. 

“So childish” She replied. 

Then you heard Lena came in the apartment. Honestly, you didn’t know why you were so embarrassed. You didn’t know if it was because of her humiliated yourself in the morning, because of her finding out that you were her best friend’s little sister or because of the strange feelings you had around her. “Hi Kar’. Sorry I’m a bit late.” “Not at all !” your sister replied. “Plus we were teasing (Y/N) about her first day at National City College today. She didn’t tell that much” GREAAAT ! Thanks Kara. You felt Lena’s gaze fell on you and you refused to look at her. But you clearly heard her smile in her comment : “Is that so ? Well I can tell you that she was late at business course today.” Ok now you were blushing hard. And you saw confusion in your sisters eyes. Confusion that vanished as Lena added : “I Know it, because i’m her professor. We met today, although she didn’t tell me she was a Danvers.” This time you looked at Lena, and to your surprise she was smiling warmly at you. “So nice to meet you (Y/N) Danvers !” “Oh hum nice to meet you Miss Luthor.” “Please call me Lena.” “All right... hi Lena.” And then, Game Night began. You first played at Uno, Maggie won with a big satisfied smile. Then you started the serious game : The monopoly. The game lasted one hour and half and at the end, there were just you and Lena. You were surprised that you didn’t feel awkward anymore. On the contrary you were concentrated on the game and motivated to beat your sister’s best friend. But she had the same motive. This was tense until Lena took your last streets and you didn’t have any more money. “I... lost ?!” you said at disbelief. “I knew you couldn’t win tonight Baby Danvers !” told Maggie. “Oh shut up !” “ To your defense (Y/N) you played well and wisely. And as your teacher I couldn’t lose could I ?” You looked at Lena which blinked at you with a smile. You blushed at the compliment and you didn’t see that Alex noticed this but she didn’t tell anything. Then you helped Kara store the room. You decided to do the dishes. You were washing the same bowl for like 2 minutes, lost in thoughts. The evening went better than you’re expected. Lena was very nice and you enjoyed played with her. You almost forgot that she was also your professor because she didn’t act like she was. You admired her more than before. She was very smart, her warming smile was so beautiful. You became to realize that you were crushing hard on her... Oh God, why ! Later everyone was leaving. You waved at Winn, took Maggie and Alex in your arms as they left the room. Lena was the last to stay. “Well, it was very amusing Kara, as always.” “Thank you for coming. I’m glad you could meet (Y/N). It’s crazy that you’re also teaching her business. I hope you’ll tell me if she causes you some trouble.” She was kidding of course. You were quite serious at school and she knew that. Lena smirk at you. “Oh she’ll behave I swear. But I’m glad she is my student. She is smart.” You blushed hard at her comment et they smiled at you. “Yeah, She is.” Kara responded. “Well I gotta go. See you later Kar’” She enlaced your sister et then came to you. “See you at college (Y/N) hope you won’t be late this time, or I’ll have to punish you.” She said with a smirk and then kissed you on the cheek. The teasing and the kiss made you so dizzy as she left. Yep you were crushing hard. God you were in trouble.  

[royalbluehues]

Hope and Wait.

Title: Hope and Wait.

Author: royalbluehues

Warnings:  No warnings. BUT. This is an AU where the thing that happens to Blake doesn’t happen to Blake. 

Pairings: Tom Blake x Reader

Author’s Note: Yeeyee, the fic for the man without a plan is here.  If you like it, and if you really do, let me know. Thank you for all the wonderful and sweet comments I’ve been receiving, it makes my little heart go pitter patter :’)

I think I’ve watched 1917 seven times now. I have a problem.

Also, was I supposed to find out that the girls in the postcard that Schofield keeps were his daughters and the woman was his wife? Also, can someone also please tell me why I thought that was his mother despite her looking so young?

Mad respect to the cinematic Mrs. Schofield, but, deuces. We’re vetoing her because I’m too in love with him. Let’s use the free artistic license we’ve been born with and write her off as his mother in her prime. And his daughters as his sisters. (Isn’t it sad I feel like the cinematic Mrs. Schofield is fuming at me?)

The next installments of Come Back To Me and I Promise are in progress! (Yay!)

The young man sat angrily outside, only a few yards away from his home, hidden beneath the trees that met the land his father had owned.

He sat, thinking, twirling blades of grass between his index and thumb, feeling the edges press gently into the pads of his fingers.

When Joe had left a year prior everybody spoke of his brave valor. They were proud of him. For Christ’s sake, they were even excited to have someone in the family fight the Great War. 

Now that it was his turn, he was met with a lesser degree of enthusiasm. 

His mother had looked aghast when he proudly held his voluntary draft card in hand, “You will not go.”

His proud smile had fallen, “What? Of course I will. It’s bound to become mandatory eventually Mum.” 

She grimaced at him, shaking her head vehemently as she wiped her hands on her apron, “No. I can’t lose you either.”

His shoulders slumped as he frowned, “You act like Joe’s died. He’s not, you know. He’s perfectly fine, as will I.”

They had argued more, eventually leading to his mother crying which made him feel terribly guilty. He had straightened at once, moving to her weeping form to wrap her in his arms. “Mum, I know you don’t want me to go. But I have to. I have to, mum. Besides, what if I get a medal? Then you’ll be able to hang it up and finally say you’re proud of me.”

His mother ceased crying, her stony face displaying a mix of disappointment and sadness, “You speak like a boy, Thomas.”

She then had walked away in silence, leaving him to stare after her in anger and confusion.

So there he was, sitting on earth and leaning against one of the wooden posts lining his home, internally complaining about his circumstance and lack of enthusiasm he’d received. 

“Mrs. Blake told me you’re set to leave.”

He jumped at your voice, turning to see you standing a foot away from him. You were standing with your hands clasped in front of you, still and silent as you gazed upon him with a look Tom couldn’t quite put his finger on. 

“Christ, love. You’re as silent as a fox.” He moved to roll onto his feet, pushing off the ground with his right hand, letting go of the blades of grass in the mix. “How’d you get word so fast?”

He moved closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, but you remained stagnant, not moving a muscle, as emotions flickered through your eyes.

“I had made a pound cake and brought your mother part of it.” Your answer was short. Quick. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Tom wrinkled his nose and let his arms drop, taking a step back, “Don’t tell me you’re angry, too.”

You were silent, biting on your tongue for fear of wilting into a puddle of tears. There was a tightness in your chest.

“You know,” Tom’s voice underlaid annoyance, “It’s not as if parliament won’t be making the conscription mandatory-”

“But you could have waited until then,” You shot at him, balling your fists at your side, “Why on earth would you put yourself into a position of risk?”

Tom’s eyebrows slanted in anger, and he jutted his chin out and straightened, ready to defend himself. “Nobody said that when Joe left.”

You stuck your chin out as well, looking up at him with a set jaw, “Your brother was called for deployment. Mandatory deployment, not voluntary. Tom, I-”

You cut off, unable to form anymore words.

“‘Tom’ what?” He shot back hotly, taking a step closer in a defensive stance, “Are you going to tell me that you don’t want me to go?”

His tone was borderline mocking, rushed and angry. His annoyance was wearing thin. At you. At his mum. At Joe.

It was completely unfair.

You stared at him in silence, the tightness in your throat worsening with each passing second. You were biting the tip of your tongue to keep your composure again, but possibilities of him dying somewhere without you potentially ever knowing caused you to slump forward in defeat, hanging your head as the tears you were holding finally broke loose. 

“Yes,” you croaked out sadly, “It’s exactly what I was going to say. It’s exactly what I want you to do.”

Tom’s eyes widened a fraction, one of his hands immediately taking hold of your waist and the other moving to cup your jaw. He bent downwards to attempt to look into your eyes, “Love, I’m sorry- Please don’t cry, I didn’t mean to make you angry, I-” He let out a sigh, “Christ.”

The hand that cupped your cheek moved to the back of your head to cradle it, guiding it towards the area of his shoulder that you regularly dug your nose into when he held you.

You let out a small sob, unraveling your fists only to grasp tightly on to his ironed shirt.

“Love, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.” He kissed your crown, kissed your temple, kissed your ear. His thumb moved circles into your hip, the cotton material of your skirt bunching and releasing with his ministrations, “I’m sorry.”

He continued doing so until you calmed.

“I’m sorry.” He told you, “Please forgive me.”

The birds sung somewhere in the trees, and the soft breeze rustled the leaves above and rolling the grass on the hills north of you. 

You moved your face, angling yourself to rest your nose at his shoulder as you stared ahead of you, focusing on particularity nothing. 

Now he moved to dig his face into the crook of your neck, his voice muffled as he apologized once again.

You didn’t accept his apology. And you wouldn’t be accepting it anytime soon. But to make amends, you moved your right hand to cradle the back of his neck, fingertips lightly grazing the hair at the nape.

You felt his lips kiss your neck. Then again under your jaw, gently bumping his nose with yours in search of your lips.

With lidded eyes, he kissed you. Slowly, and passionately. 

Your heart broke as his lips danced against yours, searing this moment into your memory. When he released to allow you to breathe, he rested his forehead against yours, “I love you, you know.”

Your eyebrows knitted together, and he watched as the tears pooled at your waterlines, “I love you as well.” 

“Don’t cry.” he ordered, frowning at your saddened features, “When I come back, I’m going to marry you. I’m going to marry you when the first blossom blooms.”

The tightness in your throat returned at his proposal, and as he stared deeply into your eyes, he told you softly, “On that day you’ll be crying because you’ll be happy. We’ll have a house, and we’ll have children.” He stroked your hair, and you breathed in broken sobs, shaking your head as you downcasted your eyes. Tom caught your chin between his fingers, shaking his head in disapproval at your movements, “I’ll take care of you. But until then, I’ll have to take care of you away from home.”

His young blue eyes continued searching yours, “I’ll come home to you.”

~~~

He had left with a grin and mischief sparkling in his eyes. He kissed you upon the lips, once, twice, three times before he bounced away, excitement evident in every fiber of his being. 

Mrs. Blake clutched at her small beaded purse, using her handkerchief to wipe away the tears at the corners of her eyes.

“Let’s go home, Mrs. Blake,” you had told her, offering your arm so she’d loop it with yours once the train left the station. 

You wrote to Tom. 

You wrote four to five page letters, explaining your days in vivid detail and what you had heard. On the days that were not particularly interesting, you wrote to him your favorite verses or some memory of him that would make you laugh. 

When you would finish, you would ask his mother if she would like if you both sent yours together, so that he would have a nice surprise when his mail would come in. 

She would always agree. 

Waiting for word for him was nearly excruciating. At first, his letters would come in more frequently. Four letters during the month. 

The it slowly stretched from four to three, three to one. You were a ball of nervous energy, attempting to rid it by participating in caring for your mother and father and for Mrs. Blake. 

You helped her with her garden, helped her pull the weeds that were growing by her rose beds in vain to rid the ache in your chest when you thought of him. You knitted socks and scarves, vests and mittens in your free time, sending them to any poor boy out there with lack of thereof. You sent bundles of socks to both Tom and Joe to keep and distribute amongst their comrades.

You kept Mrs. Blake company. 

It was set routine. 

One night, in particular, when you had brought over a small basket of groceries to save her from taking a trip, she turned to you. She looked tired. She looked worried.

The small wisp of hair that had begun to turn gray contrasted starkly against her dark hair. But her eyes, the same eyes Tom had, were soft and filled with fondness, “You are perfect for Thomas.”

The day the telegram arrived, Mrs. Blake nearly fainted. 

She handed you the letter, closing her eyes, “Oh, dear Lord.”

You yourself had turned a paler shade, moving to take the crushed letter in her hand, gently pulling it away. Mrs. Blake began praying quietly, knitting needles now strewn aside and forgotten. 

You tore open the top, hands shaking as you fished for the letter, biting your cheek as you unfolded it.

“Is it Joseph or Thomas? Heavenly Father, please-” She cut off, hands moving to cover her face. You were holding your breath, reading with the familiar tightness in your throat threatening to overtake you. 

                                            To MRS. MARY BLAKE

MADAM,

IT IS WITH MY DEEPEST REGRET TO INFORM YOU THAT Lance Corporal Thomas Blake 8TH INFANTRY HAS BEEN SEVERELY INJURED IN ACTION ON THE 6TH OF APRIL. NO FURTHER PARTICULARS ARE AVAILABLE. YOU WILL BE NOTIFIED SHOULD ANY NEW DETAILS BE RECEIVED.

                       GEORGE BARNETT, MAJOR GENERAL COMMANDANT

“Who is it?” She repeated, panic clear in her tone.

“Tom’s been injured,” you told her, gulping, “severely injured.” 

You handed her the letter, which she tore from your hands to read. She was stiff and rigid, but all the while you saw she was relieved. 

“As long as he’s not dead.” She mumbled to herself, flopping tiredly into her armchair. “As long as either are not dead.”

You were still rattled, however. Yes, you were grateful to the heavens he was not dead. But the possibility still loomed. You sunk into the wooden chair in which you had been sitting in, the fire crackling the only sound that was heard in the small countryside home. “Yes,” you agreed quietly, gulping down your fears as you reached for the teacup that you had placed by your side. 

You had to come to terms with the only option that was available to you- something that you have been practicing in the passing months:

To do nothing, but hope. Hope and wait.

You took a sip, the heat scalding your tastes buds as your stomach churned, but you paid it no mind. “As long as he’s alive.”

~~~

Tom was mending. Somewhere in France at a military hospital deep within the Allied side. He had nearly died from a stab wound, the report read, but was on the mend and was most likely to survive.

You and Mrs. Blake had cried in relief. 

~~~

On the twelfth day of the eleventh month, you had been in town. The group in which you participated with to sell war bonds decided to try their luck with the townspeople. 

You had been hanging the British flag above your small post, talking with the girls. 

“The war is over!”

You turned your head to the source of the yell, an older gentleman was running down the main street clutching a bundle of newspapers, “It’s over!”

Your breath caught in your throat, reaching over to hold onto Marie. 

One of the girls ran to snatch up a newspaper, jogging back to where you were all huddled. She unfurled it, where the headlines wrote:

                                                  WAR IS OVER!

                                  ARMISTICE SIGNED BY GERMANY

“The war is over!” The man continued to shout behind you, causing the townspeople to come outdoors and into the streets, “It’s over!”

“Oh!” You cried out in true happiness, feeling the sensation rush over you and warming your bones, hugging Marie next to you who held onto you with elation. 

Tears of joy fell from your eyes, and cheering broke out around you. 

It was the first time in a very long time that happiness trumped the fear you were all feeling. 

You ran the two miles home. 

First running to tell your mother the news, then running off to tell Mrs. Blake.

She had been polishing the silver that had been given to her as a wedding present.

“Mrs. Blake,” you told her gasping for breath as you held onto the door, “It’s over.” You gulped, chest heaving from exertion, legs threatening to give out beneath you, and letting out a strangled laugh, “Our boys are coming home. Germany signed an armistice. It’s over. By God,” you breathed out, moving to hug her, shutting your eyes tightly, “It’s over, Mrs. Blake.”

~~~

You married him on the first day of May. The sun shone brightly above the spring morning, and birds twittered happily in the trees. 

Your white dress had been made specially for you, cherry blossom petals made of ivory silk cascaded from your breast to the hem of your dress. In your pinned hair, you wove the first blooms of that season. 

You had met him at the altar, taking his hand as you stood side by side with one another and clutching it tightly.

You turned your head to look at him, noting, for the millionth time, the way he looked much older. Gone was the boyish mischief that sparked his eyes. Gone was the playfulness that crinkled the edges when he spoke to someone. 

Since his return, there were days when he would have episodes of nervous breakdowns. It pained you, for you could do nothing but stay there with him, wrapping your arms around him and whisper words of encouragement.

There would be days where he would remain silent for hours. There would be days where he would cry. For life. For stolen youth. For the horrors he would not share.

The soft features he had were now more pronounced, his jaw set as he looked onward at the priest. 

A nervous tick he had developed in the war.

You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand, making him blink and turn to meet your gaze. His sea colored eyes softened at the sight of you. He raised your intertwined hands to his lips and kissed yours, giving it a tight squeeze before bringing them down again to their original position. 

When you had said your vows to one another, with your friends and family gazing upon the two of you with unsaid blessings, he gently jutted his forehead with yours.

 “I’m not quite the same man who left,” He mumbled quietly for only you to hear, “but I’m still the same man who’s always loved you.” He wiped at your tears with his thumb, his voice cracking just slightly, “You’ll have to be patient with me.”

He knitted his eyebrows together as he released your hand to cradle your face.

“My love,” You whispered, your voice full of emotion for only him, “We have all the time in the world.”

He closed off the distance by kissing you, holding silent promises and unspoken incantations of his love for you, and you for him. 

.

.

.

Masterlist

Tags: @sexyskywalker @aathepenguin @4lendow-norris @ellar21 @shooky-and-mang

[thetomorrowshow]

89: "I could never forget you" either with Roman or Deceit? (Or both but I'm just a slut for Roceit so)

Okay I know nothing about prison but this happened! The prison au that no one asked for!

~

Dee hadn’t meant to end up here. Until recently, he’d been a college student sharing a dorm with a fellow computer sciences major. Until recently, he’d been happy (if a little bored) with his everyday life. Until recently, Dee hadn’t been charged with second-degree murder.

He hadn’t killed anyone! He had a lawyer working to get him out, but that could take months, even years. Until then, he had to survive jail. So far, it wasn’t going too well, seeing as he was a weedy, glasses-wearing nerd, the buzz cut they’d given him doing nothing to hide the splotchy birth mark on the left side of his face.

He’d finished his time in the fish tank (unfortunately, as people were a lot nicer there), and was now just trying to figure out how to survive. He’d narrowly avoided getting killed in the yard, then again in the cafeteria, and he’d only been here for three days. His cellmate, Roman, he could deal with–the man was huge, but never talked, choosing instead to endlessly tap on his prison-issued tablet. Sometimes Dee saw him out in the yard, joking with some other convicts. Once he’d seen him fight off three prisoners alone before guards could come split them up.

Most of the time, Dee kept to himself. He’d tried to talk to Roman once or twice at the beginning, but had given up. The man just stared at him. Dee struggled to follow the daily routine–checks at 10:30am, 4:45pm, and 9:25pm became regular and easy to remember, but how was he supposed to go out in the yard when there were easily hundreds of convicts twice his size out there? He never remembered to get in line for the showers in time, always taking one close to midnight. He kept missing meals, too scared to put himself in the middle of whatever chaos was going on.

Dee was struggling, and from talking with his lawyer every week, he knew that he wouldn’t be out anytime soon. He just had to keep his head down, be invisible. Surprising no one, that didn’t work.

It wasn’t his first brawl, exactly. He’d gotten involved in a few fights in high school, but he’d never been the target. A man only a bit bigger than him had been eyeing him for the past week, and today he and two others jumped him during the cafeteria rush for dinner.

This is the end, Dee thought distantly, as a fist collided with his stomach. Only it wasn’t the end. Because he was being pulled away. By Roman? Then they were in the hall outside of the cafeteria, Roman looking him over with a surprisingly gentle look on his face.

“Can’t you take care of yourself?” he muttered, then left, abandoning Dee to wonder: what just happened?

-

Over time, things changed. They still didn’t talk, but Roman would silently hand Dee his tablet, a word document open. Dee was amazed by the works there–a fantasy world, brilliantly crafted to fully immerse the reader.

At times, Roman would wait for him, then guide him through the schedule. Show him the right places to be when it was too busy, remind him to shower while everyone was exercising, and exercise while everyone was showering.

Dee got used to life. And somewhere along the way, he and Roman began exchanging words–here a “hello”, there a “how are you”. They grew closer, and it seemed that everyone knew that attacking Dee was attacking Roman in turn, and Roman had connections. For someone so quiet, he was on surprisingly good terms with most of the guards, as well as many of the inmates. Now that Dee wasn’t afraid, he found himself … enamored by the burly man. Not in a romantic way necessarily, but in a that-man-is-really-cool-and-I-look-up-to-him sort of way. It could be romantic. But Roman would never be into Dee that way, so why even think about it?

-

“How’d it go?”

Dee sighed, flopping onto his bunk. “The court date’s set for next April.”

Roman winced. “Bit far away.”

 “You’re telling me.” Dee sat up almost immediately. He and Roman were close enough now, weren’t they? He looked at the other man, sitting criss-cross on the floor, looking fixedly at his tablet. “What’re you doing?” he asked curiously.

“Spanish,” Roman replied without looking up.

“So what are you in for?” Wow, that was tacky. He’d been wondering for a while, but he hadn’t worked up the courage.

“Drugs,” Roman sighed. He gently placed the tablet to the side. “My brother dealt. I was his brute force. We knew it was bad or whatever, and we never did any of ‘em, but when you’re trying to keep your family alive you do what you can.”

“Oh.”

Roman smiled. “I know. Tough decision. Are you gay?”

Deceit choked, coughing violently. Where did that come from? When he could breathe, he croaked out, “What… ?”

“You asked an intrusive question, so it was my turn,” Roman said simply. “So are you? Because it’s tough finding someone else who is, and you’re kinda cute.”

“Did you just ask me out?”

-

So they dated.

-

Dee hadn’t expected to find his soulmate in prison. Dee hadn’t expected to find anything in prison, yet here he was with a relationship and a new appreciation for life. They weren’t public about it, and some of the guards seemed to know but never brought it up.

Roman was different, now. He was softer, yet louder. He sang in private, and Dee found himself blushing at his rough yet perfect voice. Sometimes he’d growl out a lyric, making Dee shiver, then pick the smaller man up and twirl him around.

They laughed with each other, talked until late in the night, designed a perfect world together. Roman had a fifteen year sentence that he’d completed six years of, and Dee was hopefully going to be out in ten months, so it could never work. Maybe Roman could appeal to get out early for good behavior, but it seemed unlikely that their imaginary family would ever exist. They could dream though, and dream they did.

They stole chaste kisses in the bathroom, held hands in their cell, hugged before leaving for work in the morning. Roman laughed and lifted Dee out of bed some mornings when he wouldn’t get up (and if he wouldn’t get up because he wanted Roman’s strong arms around him, that was nobody’s business). Dee massaged Roman’s shoulders at night when he couldn’t sleep.

It was love, pure and simple. They forgot the depressing reality that surrounded them and lived to see each other. They argued, of course. It was always settled by the next day, after they could talk in the darkness of their cell and work things out. It was the most perfect relationship Dee had ever been in, and worked better than most of the ones he’d seen on TV. They sang together, laughed together, cried together.

They slow danced in their cell, Roman singing as he held Dee to his chest. Concrete walls filled with murderers and rapists were on every side, yet Dee had never felt safer.

-

The day came. They both knew it would happen eventually, but neither wanted to let go of each other. Dee was free, was leaving. Roman promised to email at every opportunity, but they both knew that wasn’t very often. He would have saved up enough to call once a week for fifteen minutes. Dee could only manage a visit every two months. They wouldn’t see each other, would possibly lose this. The best thing to ever happen to both of them, this spark, would go out with no one to nurture it.

They ignored the facts, hoping that wouldn’t happen. Roman hugged Dee one last time, then stepped back. There were no tears in his eyes–he’d always been stoic like that. When he spoke, though, his voice shook. “Don’t forget me,” he said. “It won’t be too long before I’m out, and we can have that life.”

Dee was crying, and he gave his love a watery smile. “I could never forget you,” he said. They both knew that life would never happen. They both pretended it would. “I’ll wait for you.”

~

Prompts are still open!

[blackmissfrizzle]

Worth It (The Prelude)

Worth It- Pt 1

Summary: The reader meets Marcel for the first time. This a prelude for the Worth It series.

Characters: Marcel x black!reader

A/N: I couldn’t get out of my head how the reader and Marcel first met, so I just had to write it. I think I love this series the most. I love writing for Marcel and I’ happy y’all are enjoying it too. I already got ideas for Part 3 so hopefully it’ll come out this week.

“Baby girl, you bet not be doing any magic in that shop of yours. Just sell your herbs and elixirs and go on about your day.” Your dad warned you for the fifth time today.

When you returned home yesterday, you learned that Marcel had forbidden the witches from doing any magic or there would be deadly consequences. Poor Ophelia didn’t believe him, and she paid for it with her life. Ever since then, the witches have been scared.

Hence, your parents nagging you about not using your powers. Naturally, you had a rebellious spirit and they knew that you would have no problem testing Marcel.

“Daddy, I promise.” You lied through your teeth. It may not be today, tomorrow, or anytime soon, but you knew eventually you’ll give into using your powers.

Before grabbing your keys, you kissed your mom and dad goodbye. “Be careful and no magic!” You heard right before the doors closed on them.

—

“Oh wee, chile, I swear you’re a miracle worker,” Mrs. Jackson smiled as she wriggled her fingers around.

Laughing at the older woman, you handed her the mix of thunder god vine and eucalyptus. “No ma’am, I’m not. I just know what to mix to help that arthritis of yours.”

She hugged you and rocked you back and forth. “Either way, I don’t feel any pain and can move my fingers.” Mrs. Jackson checked her watch and quickly let go of you. “Oh, look at the time. I gotta go. Paula’s bringing my grandbaby over. Take care of yourself Y/N.”

“I will and remember apply the ointment twice a day!” You called out to her before she was out the door.

After, Mrs. Jackson you had a steady flow of customers until towards the end of the day. It was so slow you decided to close the shop early and head to Rousseau’s to have a drink with your sister. However, your new set of customers thwarted your plans.

“Took you long enough to show up,” you told Marcel and his gang.

“You were getting busy. Didn’t want the tourists to see all the commotion.”

Clasping your hands together and bashing your eyelashes, you replied with faux gratefulness, “Oh my god, how sweet.”

He smiled at your sarcasm, revealing a blinding smile. It was the type of smile that made girls swoon and weak in the knees. Too bad he was dick.

“You’re funny, but that’s not going to save you. I’m sure that the other witches told you that there is absolutely no magic to be done.”

Walking to where he was, you slapped his hand away from touching your herbs. His friends were about to attack you, but he held up his hand to stop them. “I know and I really don’t care about your stupid ass rules. If someone is in need, I’m helping them.”

Marcel looked at you curiously. Most of the witches he knows are only out for themselves and their coven. “So, who was worth your life?”

“Mrs. Jackson. She’s a seamstress and her granddaughter is deaf, so she uses ASL to communicate with her. But unfortunately, for Mrs. Jackson she’s has really bad arthritis, so I give her an ointment, but the pain relief spell helps a lot too; she doesn’t have to come here as often if I perform the spell. So, if you’re gonna kill me because I helped a sweet old lady keep her livelihood and talk to her only grandchild so be it. You’re the one that’ll have to live with that on your conscious, not me.” You knelt down before him to make the job easier for him.  The other witches may live a life with fear, but you weren’t.

Looking at his friends, he wordlessly told them to leave your shop and they reluctantly obeyed. Diego and Thierry didn’t trust witches at all, and they didn’t want to leave Marcel alone with you, but they had no choice. Once his friends left, Marcel knelt down in front of you and lifted your chin, so your eyes could meet his brown ones. “You’re telling me that you cast a spell on a woman that makes her come to your shop less often. Doesn’t that make you lose money?”

“Its not about the money. Its about helping the people of New Orleans, specifically the brown ones. I can’t cure cancer, but I can lessen the pain and that’s more than our government is doing. Its more than you’re doing. You call yourself King of the Quarter, but who are you helping specifically? The vampires? Because last time I checked there’s more humans than vamps.” Self-preservation obviously wasn’t an attribute you had to be speaking to Marcel like this. Easily he could wrap his hands or sink his fangs into your neck, sucking the life out of you.

“Have dinner with me.” Marcel offered you. It’d been so long, since he’s been genuinely intrigued by a woman. Yeah, he’s slept with other women, but this was the first time in a long time he wanted to get to know a woman. If he wanted to be honest with himself, he knew he wanted to know more about you as soon as he laid his eyes on you. Even though, you greeted him with an attitude he knew there was a kind spirit in you.

Marcel was staring you down and it was beginning to be too much. His gaze was stirring things up that shouldn’t be stirred up at all. He was a vampire, you’re a witch, there should be no attraction at all, but damn it he had you interested.

To a degree you knew Marcel was good. He saved Davina Claire from being sacrificed during that Harvest Festival, which your momma called a bunch of nonsense and that’s why she don’t fool with those white witches. “They always wanna sacrifice somebody. Unless it’s the good Lord telling me to, which he ain’t done since Abraham, I ain’t killing nobody,” she would always say.

You took a good look at Marcel to assess if he had any ill-intentions towards you. He seemed that he didn’t, but you had to make sure. “Like eat dinner with you or be dinner for you?”

He laughed at you, big time. Your inflection, the look on your face, and body movements were hilarious. Marcel knew for sure he had to get to know you.

“Nigga, I’m serious! I know I look like a snack and all, but that’s not the way I prefer to be eaten.”

Marcel tongue darted out across his lips, which made you zero in on them. They were so damn kissable, that you had to stop yourself from leaning in once Marcel began talking again. “No, we’ll eat a dinner and I much rather have you for dessert anyway.” He said suggestively, licking his lips again.

Lips were moving, but no words were coming out. You must’ve looked like an idiot, but Marcel didn’t think so. He thought you were adorable being struck speechless for the first time during this encounter.

Lifting you to your feet, Marcel got within a tenth of a inch of your ear and whispered, “I‘ll pick you up at 8,” and just like that he left leaving you stunned.

Quickly, you pulled out your phone to text your sister.

YOU: Change of plans. Meet me at my house. I have a date!

—

Bianca stood in front you, working here magic on your face. She was the best makeup artist in the state, and you got all her services for free and you earned it too; you were always her test subject.

“And he ain’t even ask you? Just told you what time he’ll pick you up without asking where you live.” She asked, waving the powder brush. In response, you shook your head yes and she kept going. “Whew, that’s some big dick energy!”

“I know, right?! If he hadn’t zoomed off, I probably would’ve given him the panties right then and there.” It was true. Marcel had a hold on you and you were sure you’d lose all common sense around him.

“I heard sex with a vamp is top tier. I’ve been trying to get at Diego, but he ain’t having it.” Bianca’s had a crush on Diego as long as he’s been in New Orleans and at first he was interested until he found out she was a witch.

“He’s just scared that’s all. Maybe he’ll come around.”

Bianca was applying the finishing touches when she went on a rant. “That’s what I told that nappy-headed ass nigga! I told him stop being scary because the only thing that’s gonna put a spell on him is this pussy!” She stuck her tongue out like her idol, Cardi B and you joined in with her laughter.

“Oh, look at my big sis, looking all fine.” Turning you around to face the mirror, Bianca revealed her handiwork. She kept your face to a light beat, going for the natural look, highlighting your best features.

Shooting out of your seat, you hugged her thanking her profusely. “Girl, ain’t no problem. You know it ain’t hard to make you look beautiful. Now turn Marcel back to the dark side.” You furrowed your eyebrows at her, you had no idea what she was talking about. She leaned into you and whispered like you weren’t in the privacy of your home. “He’s known for dating white girls. Rumor has it he dated Rebekah Mikaelson back in the day.”

The knock on the door stopped you from asking anymore questions. Damn a nigga for being on time.

On the other side of the door, stood a delicious looking Marcel Gerard with a bouquet of Swamp Azaleas. “I heard these are your favorites,” he handed you the flowers, but Bianca took them instead.

“They are. Now, don’t have her back until the sun is up. Good night!” She pushed you out the door so hard that you stumbled into Marcel’s embrace and god did he smell good and felt even better.

Feeling like you were overstaying your welcome in his arms, you tried to pull away, but he pulled you back. “No, I like how you feel in my arms.” For a while, Marcel just held you until you reminded him you would like to go on the date and for the first time you noticed a nervous smile from him. “Sorry, I just get caught up in you,” he stated, before he escorted you down to his car.

--

Thank god, Marcel didn’t take you to an overpriced date. He could tell that you enjoyed the simpler things in life and took you to a local restaurant. It required you to dress nicely, but not like if you were dining at a Michelin star restaurant.

The conversation never got dull and he never got insulted by the jokes you cracked about him unlike some of your previous dates. What you truly bonded over was your love for New Orleans. There was no place like NOLA and even if you visited other cities, states, and countries, New Orleans would always be your number one love. It was the same way for Marcel.

The only thing you disagreed on was how to run the city, but it wasn’t a disrespectful debate. He even challenged your thoughts by bringing up that you weren’t heavily involved with the coven, so why fight for them so hard. The man was good, but you couldn’t let him know that.

Dinner was coming to an end and you couldn’t help but think about what Bianca said about Marcel dating white women. You knew she didn’t mean it as malicious, but it was causing doubts in your head. If it was true, then you were shit out of luck because you were far from his usual dates.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” His voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Nothing. What makes you say that?”

“Your eyes.” He pointed to your irises, holding out his forkful of dessert for you to taste. The mix of warm, gooey brownies with ice cream, whipped cream, walnuts, and chocolate syrup had you moaning and rocking back and forth in happiness. “That right there is what I’m talking about. Your eyes are so expressive you can’t hide what you’re feeling. That’s why I knew you would go on a date with me, you felt the same attraction I did. So, I’ll ask one more time, what’s going on in that head of yours.” This time you could tell by his tone that a nothing wouldn’t suffice.

“Do you typically date black girls?” The words were so jumbled together that Marcel almost didn’t catch the question.

A slow smile crept on his face once it did register and he gripped your hand and rubbed small circles into it. “Thinking back on it, my more recent partners have been white, but don’t let it get twisted, I will always love black women.”

Satisfied with his answer, you let the topic go. Easily, y’all finished dessert and then went out to walk down Bourbon street. Marcel let you pulled him into dancing when you heard the familiar sounds of Zydeco. He kept up even when they switched up to bounce music and you began twerking on him.

Unfortunately, the night had to come to the end. Marcel walked you back to your front door and you both just stood there not wanting to end the date. “Want to come inside?”

“I can’t,” he replied. Your mood immediately saddens at the rejection and you turned the doorknob to go inside, but Marcel closed it. “You and these damn eyes,” he murmured. “Its not that I don’t want to come inside. Its that you have work in the morning and we both know if I come inside, you won’t get any sleep.”

“Oh,” you deeply sighed at his explanation. Now you had to try to get him inside somehow.

“Its not happening, so get those dirty thoughts out of your mind.” He smirked at you, loving how emotive you were. “But if you let me, I can kiss you.”

Eagerly, you shook your head yes and he chuckled at you. Marcel grabbed the back of your neck, bringing you closer. His eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes repeatedly, just making the tension that much more intense. He finally descended his lips onto yours, releasing you from that torture and bringing you into bliss. His lips were softer than you imagined, his beard tickled your face, but you loved it.

Remembering that you needed to breath, Marcel reluctantly pulled away with a small bite to your bottom lip. Your eyes fluttered opened and there was no denying the lust in them. Marcel leaned his forehead against yours and whispered into your ear, “You’re going to ruin me.”

You weren’t sure if he was talking to himself or you, but you responded either way. “I’ll be worth it,” and you went inside leaving both you and Marcel frustrated.

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