#and this means i can drink even more caffeinated tea!

[murasaki-sama]

Internet: caffeine can help relieve the symptoms of a migraine Me: Drink tea for pain. Understood

[theygender]

I love being T4T. My gf has been on estrogen for a couple weeks now and she's been having a rough time with her mood so I'm teaching her about the ancient art of soaking in a bubble bath with a little drink to sip while watching shows on your laptop

[dcxdpdabbles]

Would you ever consider writing out the Alley Boyfriends?

Tim's favorite brand of coffee since childhood- for one could not follow Batman and Robin around without losing some sleep- had always been the Heart Attack Coffee. It was known for its high levels of sugar and caffeine, with the added bonus of being cheap.

Heart Attack Coffee grew from a small family-run booth in Gotham's street market to five stores in Gotham, three in Bludhaven, and even one in Metropolis.

Their menu comprises about sixty percent of various coffees, but there are teas, fruit waters, and even pastries.

They rolled out signature drinks per season, and Tim was always the first one in line when the new menu was revealed. He preferred the winter ones- mainly because they were hot and always had a special kick to his coffee compared to the spring and summer that tended to lean more towards ice dreams like teas or fruit waters.

Tim adored Heart Attack with all his might. He collected their special cups, a book on all the different flavors he tried, and even cried for three hours straight after learning the Heart Attack team had made drinks inspired by the Bats.

He doesn't think he drank anything but the Red Robbin Rush for the three months the promotion ran. Yes, his heart was beating like a hummingbird in his chest the whole time, and he was a bit jitty, but it was worth it.

Then came the terrible day Bruce found out just how much caffeine was inside Heart Attack's coffee. Not enough to shut them down with health violations but enough to worry him.

He forbids the family from Heart Attack, suggesting another cafe that were safer. The thing is, Tim does not drink any other coffee. He tried of course, but unless he was the one that made it, the other coffee never came close!

That was Tim's coffee. His special coffee. He had one every day (that he was in town and not away on a mission) so much so the employees knew him by name and what time he usually showed up.

Sean, the morning cashier at the closest branch to WE, would have an experimental drink prepared for him. Sean would let him test out possible new flavors!

That's how valued he was as a customer.

Don't get him wrong, Tim tried to follow Bruce's mandatory boycott. But by the third day, his headache was killing him, and his hands were starting to get itchy.

Not only that. His whole day just felt off when he skipped out on his morning coffee or his after-work coffee. Tam had caught him re-organizing his office at least five times because his office just didn't feel right anymore. It wasn't balanced.

On the fourth day, he walked into a Heart Attack, and Sean smiled at him. He had a blond expresso Rush halfway made when Tim reached the counter. "Welcome back, Tim."

He placed a fifty in the tip jar grinning at the employee. He took his first sip of the golden nectar and felt his very soul breathe as it settled in his stomach. "Good to be back"

Tim figured that Bruce wouldn't notice because, frankly his adoptive dad wasn't the most observant when it came to Tim's habits. He got away with it for about a month.

Then came the faithful day Bruce reminded him why he was Bartman.

"I'm sorry, Tim, you've been placed on the Do not Serve Coffee list." Sean winces, showing the binder to the stunned CEO.

"I've been banned!?" He chokes, running his eyes over his own face in picture form. "What did I do!?"

"Not banned. You can still order caffeine-free teas or fruit waters." Sean reassures, but it means nothing. His apologies and his explanations mean nothing.

Sean-who he was half sure had been flirting with Tim for months- suddenly meant nothing.

Bruce has bought out Heart Attack was nearest WE in an effort to get Tim to cut back on his coffee intake. The man knew he did not like drinking any other brand, didn't function right without it, and still chose to pull this stunt.

Well, if he thought Tim wouldn't drive ten minutes to the next nearest Heart Attack, he was sorely mistaken. He got up twenty minutes early- and Tim loves to sleep okay. Just because he can't have too much of it with his busy life didn't mean he didn't adore sleep- and drove himself there to make sure he was on time for WE.

The employee gave him the same spiel, holding that dreaded binder. Bruce had also gotten to this branch. But Tim knew that while the branches could be bought out, the name was trademarked, so Bruce couldn't own them all!

He tried the Heart Attack that was thirty minutes away, showing up late to work due to him not planning the traffic for the morning rush, and still did not succeed in getting coffee.

. Then he tried the one that forty minutes, on the complete opposite side of his work, and that one failed too. By this point, a whole week had gone by since he last had a Heart Attack.

Not even on missions did he go this long. He usually bought those take-home packages when he knew the missions were going to be longer than three days at the most. They wouldn't even sell him that anymore!

The packages were just packs of Heart Attack instant coffee. It wasn't even the real deal!

He was feeling withdrawal; his headaches were getting worse, while his body felt slow with fatigue, and he was snapping at everything and everyone.

Just the other day, he yelled at Tam for sneezing. Sneezing.

Thankfully, she can give out as good as she gets. She reminded Tim why she was the one who tended to call all the shots around the office despite what others believed.

His skin was starting to burn, which didn't make sense since caffeine withdrawal did not include itchiness, but he couldn't stop scratching. Tim also hasn't slept in a while because his daily evening routines were all off now that he couldn't have Coco Connect!

He thinks he made all of his executives uneasy with his fidgeting and nasty scowl at the last meeting because he couldn't sit still when all he could think of was Heart Attack.

The last Heart Attack, the one right at the edge of the city, the one that was only a street away from Crime Alley and happened to be a forty-five-minute commute for both Wayne Manor and WE, was his last hope.

Out of all of the branches, this one was the least impressive. It was cramped with only three tables, the walls were painted a dark brown, and the light setting was all low.

It was nothing like the bright and spacious atmosphere of the other branches. It was even squished between two large buildings, the narrow doorway making it hard to even see. Tim was sure Bruce had not found this one yet.

When he pushed the door open, he jumped slightly at the chime from the bells on the door. His anxiety had been climbing to ridiculous levels, he needed his coffee.

At the counter, a boy who looked his age glanced up from his red bulky phone. He quickly slipped it into his pocket, giving Tim a friendly, if slightly bored smile. "Can I help you?"

Tim raced towards him, nearly tripping over his own feet. There was a slight note of deranged desperation in his voice as he responded. "Please, I just want a cup of coffee."

The boy nods, pressing a few buttons on his little cheap register. "What kind would you like?"

Tim's heart swelled with hope. "I want a large Blond Expresso Rush and a-"

The boy stops. He looks up slowly at the time, squinting his eyes as if trying to see into Tim's mind. Then, with a slow movement, he reached under the counter to withdraw a very familiar binder.

Tim's eyes burn with unshed tears as the stranger flips through the binder before stopping on a particular page. "I'm sorry, sir, but you are on the Don't Serve Coffee list. I can offer you some tea instead-"

"NO!" Tim yells, causing the employee to jerk back. He knows he must look like a mess, with tears rolling down his face, but he doesn't care. This was his last chance. He can't make it to the branches in Bludhaven or Metropolis, not daily and certainly not without Bruce noticing. " THIS IS THE FIFTH PLACE. BRUCE CAN'T OWN YOU ALL!"

He places his face into his hands and wails. His body is shaking with his sobs, leaning against the counter because he lost all strength to himself up.

The employee stares at him with a strangely understanding expression. "Does this coffee mean that much to you? Is it.... an Obsession for you?"

Tim can only nod because words are hard to push through his cries. The teenager sighs, running a hand through his hair before leaning forward and whispering. "Look, man, I can't give you coffee under the cameras. Meet me in the back alley in twenty minutes, and I'll get you a coffee. Bring Cash."

Tim snaps his head up at once.

"How much? Five hundred, six hundred, or hell, even a thousand? I'll bring whatever you want." He sobbed, knowing he looked sort of pathetic but beyond the point of caring about his dignity.

" Chill, dude, it's a cup of coffee. Three dollars is fine." The other says with a sort of uneasy smile.

"It's not just any coffee! It's my favorite brand, and Bruce bought them out to ensure they wouldn't sell to me anymore!"

The guy holds up his hands. "Okay, okay, this coffee means a lot to you. I get it. Twenty minutes alright?"

Tim stumbles his way outside, reaching for his wallet. He has no cash, but he says an ATM is not too far down the street. He all but runs there and sprints back with a crispy twenties.

He stopped at a local flower store to ask if they would break it for him and was told he needed to buy something first. Not wanting to meet the coffee angel, he picks out a lovely bouquet of lavender roses.

He gets four dollars as his change and races back to the Alley behind Heart Attack. Just in time, too, because the back door opens and out strolls the cashier with a large travel container.

Tim throws the cash and flowers into his hands to rip off the lid and check the inside. It's a Blond Expersso Rush. Even just a sniff has something in him settling. He takes a sip, and all is right with the world for the first time in a while.

"That good?" The boy asks with a slight grin. Tim hums, smiling back as he takes another sip. "I'm glad. Want your flowers back?"

Huh? Oh yeah, he bought those. He shakes his head. "Keep them. Think of it as a thanks for doing this."

"Cool. Never had flowers as a tip before." He jokes, taking a sniff of the roses with a broader grin. "Name's Danny, by the way."

"Tim. Nice to meet you."

"You too."

Tim tips his head back, letting the coffee burn down his throat. It's hot, but that hardly matters. Danny's mouth drops. "Dude, maybe wait for it to not be so hot?"

"I can't." He whines, downing the cup's contents, and only after it's all gone does he realize he forgot to savor it. He throws it over his shoulder in the direction of the trash can. "I don't know when I'll get a chance like this again."

"Don't worry about that. I'll make you more whenever you want. Here, have my number and text me when you're on your way so I can-"

Tim throws himself onto Danny. The other fumbles with the flowers, trying to hold them and Tim simultaneously, but Tim doesn't care. "You are the best person I have ever met! I think I love you!"

The other laughs, patting his hair. "I'm glad. You've been the first to give me flowers, so you're cool, too."

"When do you get off shift? I'll treat you to dinner."

"It's not a big deal, dude."

"I insist!"

"Well if you insist. I just finished, actually. Where do you have in mind?"

Tim leans back to smile at Danny, unaware of the two shadows that leap away from the still-embraced couple. They arrived sometime after Tim finished his cup, unaware he had drunk it since it was lying on the group near the other discarded cups in the trash.

They only saw Tim in the arms of a boy, holding flowers, which represented "Love at First Sight," and the way they heard Tim offer to buy him dinner.

"See B? Tim wasn't buying coffee. He was just meeting his crush!"

"Hmm. Based on what we saw, it's safe to say boyfriend. No one is comfortable with someone unless they have known them for a while."

"I think your right. I wonder when Tim will bring him over to meet the family?"

"Try not to push too much Nightwing. You know T values his privacy."

They both smile at each other knowingly, and even though Bruce suppresses it right away for his Batman persona they don't forget what they saw.

They pretend not to notice every time Tim disappears or that his GPS puts him back in that alley. They'll wait till he's ready to tell them. Besides, the barista seems good to him; Tim is far more energetic and bright these days.

A month goes by like this, where Tim is back to his normal self, no longer needing coffee to be happy. Bruce pats himself ion the back for his plan to help cut him off working so well.

Even though he seems to be texting constantly on his phone.

Neither Dick nor Bruce noticed the narrow eye stare of worry that Jason aimed at Tim whenever he slipped away to meet Danny. He has theories on what is inside those strange containers, but he hasn't gotten close enough to confirm his suspicions yet.

Jason prays he's wrong.

He waits until he knows Tim is gone (he is not. He likes to hide in the cave's shadows to overhear the latest family gossip) before turning to Bruce and Dick.

"Tim's on drugs! I've caught him trading cash for small containers in a shady alley six times. We need an intervention."

Predictably both men freak out.

"What?! I thought that was his boyfriend!" Dick wails, looking over all the pictures of Tim and Danny standing in an alley trading cash, flowers, and containers that Jason took.

"I also thought that was Tim's boyfriend, but if it's a drug dealer, we have to help him," Bruce grunts, eyes hard as he now sees Danny Fenton in a new, less favorable light.

And Tim, who is still hiding in the cave's shadows overhead, can only whisper a heartfelt "shit."

He rips out his phone to text Danny as the rest of the Bats below begin plotting. Thank goodness they don't know what Danny has been giving him exactly. Maybe they can steal Bruce's and Dick's ideas.

Meanwhile, Danny's tiny apartment across the city is starting to appear like a greenhouse with all the flowers Tim has been giving him. His small slip of loving flowers was all Tim needed to hear.

He's taken it as a personal challenge to always have some flowers for Danny as a thank-you for the coffee he made for him.

It was nice. It helped get rid of the boredom his life had developed. He looked forward to Tim's presence. He hadn't had this much fun or clicked as easily with someone since Sam or Tucker.

"Speak of the devil, and he shall appear," Danny grins as his phone dings and Tim's picture flashes on his screen.

If anyone asks you're my secret boyfriend who been making me teas in allies

Danny stares at the screen momentarily, before shrugging and texting back a confirmation. "Who the hell would believe that? But I've had a boring week, so yeah, I'm down to be a pretend boyfriend."

He's never met any of Tim's family, but he doesn't think they will be too hard to fool.

[writtenbymoonflower]

hi!!! could i pls request some casual dominance polymarauders 🙈

Thanks for requesting, hope this is okay! gn!reader x poly!marauders, kinda modern!au

cw: kinda d/s dynamics, boys order reader around a bit. if it's not your cup of tea feel free to skip!

810 words

You were attacked with affection the minute you had stepped foot in the house, but you weren’t complaining. It was like James had appeared from thin air to help you shuck your coat off and hang it up for you. 

“Christ, babe. It didn’t know how freezing it was out there. You’ve got like, bits of ice on you.” He fussed, scrutinizing your shaking body and wind-pinched face. 

“It wasn’t that bad, the walk was pretty.” You thought that would be reassuring, but James just looked more aghast. 

“You walked the whole way here?”

“I mean, yeah. I didn’t have money for the bus.” You admitted shamefully. It seemed like Sirius had appeared in the room to give you a (loving) talking to as well. 

“Then in that case, you call one of us, yeah?” He grabbed your face gently, turning you away from James to look at him. He had his whole intimidation thing going on that made you want to melt into the floor. “You don’t get to put yourself in danger walking in this.” He gave your chin an affectionate squeeze before dropping his hand from your face, you let your gaze fall to the floor.

“I will,” You muttered, barely intelligible. This time it was James who tilted your face up. 

“Speak up baby, and look Pads in the eye when you talk to him.” He was gentle but still assertive. You quickly corrected. 

“I will call you next time.” Still mousy, but at a discernible volume, and now you could see when Sirius’ usual grin overtook his concerned features. He pulled you into him, giving you a tight squeeze. 

“You’re okay, babydoll. You’re not in trouble.” He kissed your neck, making it hard for you to breathe. 

“Who’s not in trouble?” You heard Remus’ even tone from the kitchen. You tugged the two men next to you over to where Remus was. He was sitting at the counter, doing some work on his laptop.

“Well it seems like Y/N was determined to give us the fright of our life this afternoon.” James joked (rather dramatically in your opinion), but it’s all good now. 

“They will be requiring some hot chocolate, though.” Sirius pinched at your nose, making an awful cooing sound. “Baby, your face is still all cold.” 

Remus stood up to rummage through the box of hot drink mixes. “Pads love, could you run upstairs and grab the sweater off the end of the bed?” his voice turned more serious as he looked at you. “It doesn’t surprise me that you’re still cold, that shirt likely isn’t doing much to keep you warm.” 

“Actually,” You spoke up, ignoring his comment. “Could I have some coffee instead?” James scoffed and Remus rolled his eyes. 

“It’s half past five, baby dove. You’ll be up all night if you have caffeine right now.” Remus clearly wasn’t in the mood to be argued with, but you pressed in.

“I’ll be fine! Besides, my head hurts and I need to get some work done.” 

“Yeah, well, get that idea out of your head.” James shook your shoulders affectionately. “You’ve been burning the candle at both ends lately, you need a rest.” 

“Who needs a rest?” Sirius trotted over to you, manhandling you to get Remus’ sweater over your head. 

“Y/N,” James tattled. “They think they’re getting coffee at this hour.” He laughed like you were being obviously ridiculous. “They also have a headache and didn’t tell us.” You must’ve looked absolutely appalled and quickly floundered to control the damages. 

“I didn’t think it was important! It’s not bad anyway.” 

“Well, let’s try to keep it from getting bad.” Remus handed you a steaming cup of hot cocoa, along with a packet of biscuits. “Here, eat these so you can take some pain pills.” He glanced over to James, making the bespectacled boy rummage through the medicine box while Sirius set on getting a glass of water for you. 

“I don’t need any medicine, it will go away on its own.” You pleaded, covering your mouth full of biscoff and feeling flustered from all the attention. Sirius clearly disagreed, because the comment earned you a hard pinch on your bum. 

“Do what Moons said” He punctuated the order with a kiss to your forehead, letting you know he wasn’t really upset with you. Sirius may play stern, but he was really just silly and enjoyed ordering you around a bit, knowing that it made you heated and blushy. 

You set down your hot drink and half-eaten snack to take the pills and water, swallowing your pills and finishing the whole glass before you handed it back. 

“There you go,” James cooed, pulling you into his side. “That’s a good girl” 

You groaned, earning a dark chuckle from Remus.

"Poor baby," He teased, clearly not feeling very sorry for you.

It was going to be a trying night.

[doromoni]

Caffeine of Choice | AA23 , GR63 , LN4

Ships : Platonic! 2019 F1 Rookies x Red Bull Driver! Reader

Genre : Fluff

A/N : wrote some short fluff for our 2019 rookies! Clash of Champions has got me angstyy , I needed a break.

Summary : The Rookies of 2019 cannot believe your choice of caffeine boost.

“You literally race for an energy drink, what do you mean you don’t like Red Bull??” George exclaimed, quite loudly that people now started looking with weird glances.

“Keep your voice low, George! I just got this seat and I’m trying to keep it” You swatted the Brit on the arm.

“Yeah, have fun on that Y/N” Alex snorted, being an Ex Red Bull driver himself.

“ Oh Don’t tell me you drink coffee,” Lando said in disgust, sticking his tongue out for good measure.

You and the 2019 Rookies of Formula 1 were inside the Mercedes Motorhome, and George had smuggled you and Lando in. Alex being there was no problem with him being in Williams and all.

The topic of caffeine boost had suddenly become the topic at hand when Lando had chugged and downed another can of Monster.

And that brings it back to you when you admitted that you don’t like drinking energy drinks … which was awkward since you were driving for the world’s most famous energy drink.

“First of all, yes I drink coffee. But I prefer matcha” I said back to the McLaren Driver as you took his empty can and threw it into the bin

“Grass?? You like to drink grass??” Lando asked horrified by your drink of choice.

“What do you mean, grass?? You’re British! You literally drink Leaves!!” You rebutted, mildly offended that they were laughing.

The other 2 couldn’t help but laugh even further.

“Oh shush it , will you Russell? You drown yourself in tea! And Alex you’re basically British! You guys literally drink leaf soup!!” You exclaimed with your hand in the air waving.

“ But we don’t drink tea for a boost in caffeine, Y/N” George reasoned out, as the 2 remaining drivers were laughing their asses off.

“Oh, shut up! Matcha has been proven to be more effective than coffee!” You reasoned out

“No one said anything about coffee being better than matcha, Y/N!” Alex wheezed out, still laughing. Now tears started to fall from their eyes.

“Urgh! I hate all of you! Enjoy your bloody leaf soup, Monsters and Red Bull drinks! “ You glared at your friends, who liked to gang up on you.

“We don’t drink Red Bull! But you really should, Y/N. Show some support for the team” Lando teased with his face red.

“Screw you guys, I'm leaving!”

You rolled your eyes and stood up from your seat.

“Where are you going?? “ George asked

“I’m going to find Max, at least He supports my drink of choice! unlike you people“ you struck your tongue out at them and you left for your motorhome

Just when you reach your destination.

“Hi, ms. Y/N! How about a can of Red Bull?”

Nevermind. I'm going to RB and find Yuki.

[mudisgranapat]

Civilian!Reader X BF!Simon

Imagine Simon being secretly obsessed with you

You and Simon met at a bar while he was out with Jhonny. Soap tried to get your number, but you had just broken up with your boyfriend, so you weren’t ready to move on. You let him buy you a drink, later sitting on the table with him and Simon, since the small place was crowded and you didn’t feel like standing up. After a couple of rounds, you’re talking about how your ex-boyfriend cheated on you, and Soap won’t stop saying he could help you forget him if you would just let him get between your legs.

You politely decline, and the three of you spend the rest of the night drinking and laughing, getting along surprisingly well. Although Simon is more social after a few beers, he’s still not much of a talker, preferring to spend most of the night listening to you and Jhonny talking. By the end of the night, Jhonny ends up getting your number after all, but so does Simon. You tell them you just moved into town, and could use some company.

With time, the three of you become friends, and you are later introduced to Kyle and Price during one of the many nights you meet Simon and Jhonny for drinks at the same bar. You never understand what exactly they do, but you don’t really care, it is nice to have some friends for a change (even if they are oddly secretive men with incredible muscles) .

Soap never misses a chance to flirt with you, even though he is well aware that, by now, he is deep into the friendzone.

Simon, on the other hand, spends the whole night listening to you, never once making an inappropriate advance. A perfect gentleman. No matter how small the problem, he’ll notice right away when something is bothering you. “What’s the matter, love? Someone at work giving you a hard time?” He’ll ask, using his fingers to tilt your chin up and look you in the eye. You sit beside him on the crowded bar, and tell him all about your problems. You rant about how your boss is too demanding, how the coffee from the shop you get your daily dose of caffeine from is getting too expensive and how you car is making a weird noise. Simon listens to you, nodding along the conversation and taking long sips from his beer.

The next day when you go to work, you notice the sudden silence that surrounds you on your drive, realising only a few minutes later that the weird metal clanking that used to come from the back of your car is gone. Your day gets even better when you stop at the coffee shop across from work and see that they were lowering the price of drinks due to “management changes”. You don’t even bother asking what that means, simply strolling into work with a smile on your face, ready to tackle all the issues your boss is bound to raise about the last stack of paperwork you handed him. But when you open your email, you’re shocked to see that all that your boss had to say was “Keep up with the good work”.

You immediately text Simon about how your problems seem to be melting away since you last talked to him. He’s pleased to hear that, and tells you that he’s always available for you if you need to talk. You come to the conclusion that talking to him and putting your problems out into the universe is manifesting some serious luck into your life.

Simon becomes your lucky charm. You don’t know what it is, but just talking to him seems to make all problems go away. Suddenly, there isn’t a part of your life you haven’t shared with him. From family problems to leaking sinks, he’s listening to you with a cigarette on his mouth, always looking into your eyes like you’re the only person in the world.

“Seriously, Simon. Thank you so much for listening to me complain all the time. I don’t know what I would do without you. Sometimes I feel like you’re the only person I can talk to.” You tell him one day over a cup of tea, after confessing to him that your ex-boyfriend had been stalking you for the last few days, but that you were too scared to go to the police.

“I’ll always be here for you, love.” He says as he wipes a stray tear from your cheeks. You feel them heat up at Simon’s sudden contact. What you don’t sense is the possessiveness that hides behind his words, the warmth that floods his eyes when he looks at you, only to quickly fade away when his eyes divert. Simon smiles, his face concealed by his mask, and the crinkle in his eyes translates to you a kindness that deceives the desire that seeps from his mouth.

Because, oh, how you had fallen into his trap. His perfect little angel, who now can’t go through a mild inconvenience without talking to him. Who isn’t afraid to confess her darkest secrets to him, and let him into her life without any hesitation.

Since he first saw you at the bar, he couldn’t believe how naive you were. Immediately telling him where you lived, how long you had been into town for and that you didn’t have many friends, since you had transferred in for work and your boss made you stay extra hours. You had no idea how dangerous of a man he was. Simon couldn’t stop thinking about how easy it would be to control you, to make you all his. While Soap distracted you with his nonsense flirting, Simon indulged himself wondering how long it would take to manipulate you into thinking you needed him, and how good it would feel when you finally gave yourself up to him. His obsession grew, and there wasn’t a night where he didn’t think of you on your knees in front of him, a pretty thing, reduced to his worshipper.

He wanted you to need him, to crave him, to be addicted to his words and to his touch. So he listened to you, he let you cry on his shoulder and hug him when you were lonely, he picked up every time you called and answered your messages with meaningful words. He played the long game, and now there you were in front of him, fragile and broken, waiting from him to pick up the pieces, waiting for him to cast his “good-luck” spell and make it all go away.

But it was never about luck. Simon was the one who sneaked into your garage and fixed your car, blackmailed your favourite coffee shop into lowering their prices and roughed up your boss inside his own office. He made a key to your house so he could make repairs without climbing the window, taking his time to watch you while you slept, happily unaware. He threatened your relatives when they made you upset and your ex-boyfriend… Well, he might not survive this one. Simon had already given him a beating the night you two met, when you told him he had cheated on you. Back then, he had only known you for a day. Now, you belonged to Simon, even if you weren’t aware, and nobody messed with what was his.

Note: A little imagine for you guys since i haven’t finished the chapter from my fic. hopefully you’ll accept this as my redemption.

god, i love psycho/toxic simon 😭 writing this because i literally can’t fall asleep thinking about this so i had to write it down. sorry if there are any mistakes, i’m literally writing this at 3 a.m.

[suzukiblu]

excerpt from the one where Tim Drake goes to an alternate reality and decides to get his other self laid via the local Kon's bisexual awakening:

"Hey, remember when you saved my life earlier?" Tim asks. 

"Yeah, kinda," Kon replies in amusement. "Seeing as it was about two point five seconds after you rigged the evil alien robot army to self-destruct and helped save our entire literal reality's life, so I was definitely paying attention." 

"Flatterer," Tim says with a smirk even as he waves him off. The self-destruct function wasn't even that hard to hack, comparatively. That time he'd downloaded Lex Luthor's active IP files from his personal office while the asshole had been on his damn computer–now that'd been tricky. Interdimensional alien invaders barely compare. And the Brainiac incident still gives him stress migraines when he thinks about it for too long. 

Metropolis sucks and Tim frankly has no idea how his own Kon can stand the place.

But like, getting off-topic here. 

"Well, I was gonna say you should let me pay you back for that," he continues. "But since you bring it up I'll also accept a show of gratitude on behalf of your reality, whichever gets you off harder.” 

Kon laughs, because he is apparently adorable enough to have assumed that was a joke. Precious little moron, Tim thinks fondly. 

"You know, you're a lot less uptight than our version of you is," Kon says, grinning down at Tim before flashing Tim's other self a smirk. "No offense, Rob. Dude's clearly just doing more yoga than you or something. Maybe drinking more tea? Taking the occasional bubble bath?" 

"Silly me, if only I'd invested in more bath bombs in my life," Tim's other self says dryly. 

"It's probably my sex life, actually," Tim himself puts in with an easy shrug. Turns out when you stop pretending you don't have a ridiculously high libido and actually just indulge the thing, a lot of life's little annoyances become a lot easier to handle. Go figure. "Plus my boyfriend Bernard is really great, just his entire existence does wonders for my mood in general and he also makes me eat real food on occasion and monitors my caffeine intake much more reliably than I'm capable of doing on my own. The man is a living antidepressant and I don't even mean that in a fucked-up way, he's just that good." 

"Boyfriend?" Kon blinks at him, then puts on another grin. It takes, Tim cannot help but notice, exactly two beats longer than his real grin would've. "Ohhhhh, okay, so the problem is just that you're not getting laid hard enough?" 

"It is not," Tim's other self says dubiously, watching Kon just a little bit warily and obviously worried about his potential reaction to the word "boyfriend". Well, Tim never claimed to be emotionally intelligent about Kon, so no surprise his other self is also a dumbass there. 

"It kinda is, actually," he tells his other self. "I was tracking my cortisol levels the last time I went on a solo away mission and let's just say they were . . . concerning? Like really concerning. Like by the time I got back I was kiiiiind of convinced I was going to need to go on anti-anxiety meds again. But then I jumped my Kon in the Titans Tower med bay instead and that pretty much solved the problem." 

Kon . . . pauses, sort of. Tilts his head. Tim's other self looks a lot warier.

"'Jumped'," Kon repeats carefully. "Like . . . what, you dragged him to the gym to spar or something?" 

"Like I blew his back out so hard that when he came his TTK fritzed out and disassembled my recovery bed," Tim clarifies helpfully. "It really helped with the cortisol levels issue." 

Kon blinks. Tim's other self looks pained, but also desperately envious. Tim would also be desperately envious if their situations were reversed and so does not blame him for said envy in the slightest. 

"I thought you said you had a boyfriend?" Kon says after a moment, sounding a little odd in a very telling way. Or at least very telling to Tim, anyway. 

As is the way that he's not looking at Tim's other self at all anymore. 

"Open relationship," Tim says. "Also Bernard thinks you're stupidly hot and really likes hearing about the kind of stuff you let me do to you. I've actually been debating inviting you over for his birthday so he can watch us live for once but I haven't asked you yet." 

"What, so your Kon is the side chick?" Kon jokes, awkwardly putting on another just barely belated grin. 

"More like my kept boy, functionally speaking, but he's having a 'weird about commitment' phase right now so I've just been making a lot of sugar baby jokes to soften him up," Tim replies with a shrug. It's only sort of been working, but it has been working, and he's willing to take his time on it. It's not fair to expect Kon to only be easy, after all. "Long-term goal is to marry Bernard and ideally get Kon to 'live-in boyfriend' status somewhere in there, but that would also require him not being weird about commitment and also figuring out how well he and Bernard get along in the same space, so we'll just have to see how that one goes." 

"Uh," Kon says. "Why?" 

"Because you are incredibly important to me and also look like a very horny Renaissance sculptor made you out of calacatta marble," Tim tells him matter-of-factly, gesturing meaningfully at him. "Frankly it's criminal that you ever put clothes on."

[ofsappho]

Heartless

🔞 Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader 🔞

Fake marriage/marriage of convenience, smut in the next chapter (and the chapters after).

Reader is disabled/chronically ill (and so is the author)

You need health insurance. Ghost is sick of sharing living quarters with the rest of the 141. Soap, your childhood friend, thinks the two of you can fix each other’s problems.

Or, Ghost and you have to convince his command that you didn’t just meet each other and your marriage is totally, completely, 100% legit. Not for any, more practical reasons. And, of course, your married-couple accommodations only have one bed.

Chapter 1:

This will either be the stupidest decision you’ve ever made or the greatest stroke of brilliance you’ve ever had. And there is no in-between.

When Soap ducks his head into the coffee shop, you’re more than a little relieved to see him in one piece, plus or minus a few silvery scars scattered across his face and peeking out of his sleeves, the collar of his jacket.

And the dumbass aviators you bought him as a high school graduation present hang from the dip of his shirt. You know Soap thinks he looks badass, but the placement reminds you more of ‘Patagonia dad who likes hiking’ than it does ‘mysterious hardened special forces dude.’

He’s so built that he has to carefully pick his way between crowded tables, just so he doesn’t knock over someone’s drink or trip into a random stranger’s elbow.

You more or less tackle him into the biggest hug you can. “Soap! You’re not dead!” Ever since he joined his super-duper-top-secret whatever the fuck, you’ve gotten used to the communication dead zones in your years-long friendship. The silence never stops worrying you, though.

Johnny chuckles and practically lifts you off your feet. “Neither are you! Congratulations!” You know he’s relieved to see you as well by the way he ruffles your hair.

You fucking hate it when he does that, which is, of course, why it’s become a tradition every time you see him.

He pisses you off, you piss him off. “Twinning!”

The glare he tosses your way has all the menace of a kitten attacking a curtain. “Fuck does that mean? You know I can’t keep up with your American slang.” You’re a good friend who pre-ordered his ridiculous caramel latte with extra caramel, and Soap sits happily in front of it.

He learned that he enjoyed heart-stoppingly sweet drinks on accident - a case of mistaken identity where you unintentionally grabbed Soap’s macho Americano, and he drank half of your caramel latte in revenge. And here you are, years later, watching him slurp down a milk foam heart.

“Awww, too much for the brain cells you have left?” Teasing him as easy as breathing and a welcome distraction for the anxiety attack-inducing question you must ask.

The general coffee shop ambient noise swells in your ears. An espresso machine malfunctions, almost loud enough to make you jump, and you try to disguise it by sipping your iced tea. No caffeine; you’re nervous enough without it.

“I could have you arrested for that,” Soap quips. Please. As if you’d let him try. One call to his commanding officer about his pre-service shenanigans, and you’d have his ass court-martialed.

“Abuse of the power of the Armed Forces? Very ethical.” You raise an eyebrow and lace your voice with haughtiness, even flicking some hair over your shoulder.

Then you need to pass Johnny a few napkins to mop up the latte dripping from his nose out of laughter. “I’m glad to see you,” He tells you, and the sober, knowing look in his eyes makes your stomach drop out. He doesn’t miss a thing. He’d probably be dead or fired from his job if he did. “Though I know this isn’t a social call.”

Well. You’re in for it now. “Yeah, unfortunately, it isn’t.” The words taste like dust in your mouth, and the lemony-black tea barely washes it out. Just to give yourself something to do, you pop the plastic lid off and tip a couple of ice cubes into your mouth before chomping down.

“What’s going on?”

How do you summarize the horrifically, brutally stressful whirlwind of the last few weeks without inspiring the annoying, patronizing pity you’ve gotten from literally everyone else you’ve vented to? You’re not a victim to be coddled or a child to be given advice you’ve already thought of, tried, and failed at.

“I’m losing my health insurance at the end of the month” is what you decide on in the end.

He knows exactly what that means for you. For your future. Soap shakes his head ruefully. “God, I’m so sorry.”

You’ve been sick for a while, diagnosed the year after the two of you graduated high school. The kind of sick that is simply a freak accident of nature, causing your body to attack itself over and over until the day you’ll drop dead from complications. It wouldn’t take much; maybe a regular infection burning you alive with a fever your crippled immune system can’t stop, or a benign cut from a kitchen knife that will bleed and bleed until you’re halfway to the coroner’s office.

And then there’s your shitty, damaged, degenerated spine that keeps you in bed for weeks at a time with crippling, numbing pain.

Without health insurance, things won’t look good for your quality of life. And you like your quality of life to be decent. You’d settle for passable.

Really, it sounds worse than it is, and you try to console him. “It’s okay. It was eventually going to happen. I had hoped to have a little more time, though.” You remember the call from the insurance company like it just happened yesterday. You were loading dishes into the dishwasher and listening to Fleetwood Mac on the radio. And some poor customer service representative told you they were increasing your monthly payments beyond what they knew you could afford, so they’d have to drop you.

You watch him open his mouth as if to tell you that you should’ve said something sooner. But he’s been deployed for the past four months. He pauses and resets to something a little more helpful. “How can I help?” That’s something you have liked about Johnny a lot since you were kids. He cares more about what he can do.

Your anxiety permits your lungs to take one big, fortifying inhale. “Well…” Dragging it out will only make this worse, you know, but you really, really, really hate that it’s come to this. “This is fucking embarrassing.” You tried to find a way to pay the premiums; you really did. But you work forty hours a week already and trying to get more shifts, maybe find a new job, do this, do that, appeal, all of that has been futile and draining. “Will you marry me?”

He drops his half-empty cup on the table, forceful enough that some of the coffee spills out. “What?”

Soap’s partially-scandalized shock is not what you hoped for as a reaction. But you suppose you shouldn’t have expected anything better.

The worst part of this conversation is over. It can’t get more nerve-wracking. “Marry me. Like. Get legally married. I could get on military benefits, and my meds would be covered.” He doesn’t swing your way, but surely signing some paper and standing before a judge is, like, not the most terrifying thing Soap has ever done. “And- and I know there’s stuff in it for you, too, like a better apartment or whatever. I can cook. Better than you, that’s for sure.” One of your friends had to teach him how not to burn water.

He just sits there in silence. “Please,” You add on softly. Desperately. This is your last-ditch attempt, your Hail Mary.

At last, Soap’s shoulders slump, and you know, from that alone, that he’s gonna say no. Miracles are rarely performed for ordinary people. “I would if I could, but… I’m sort of already married,” He sighs, then winces, waiting for your inevitable unhappy outburst.

…

You blink a few times, brain furiously recalibrating everything you know. John got married, and he didn’t even invite you? Or tell you? You’re supposed to be his friend. That’s so rude, ouch. You would have even gotten him some expensive shit off his gift registry.

A fucking Keurig, for God’s sake. “What? Who?” You demand, more outraged that he would leave you out of his life than you are over him declining your proposal

Underneath that deep, sunburnt tan, you see Soap blush. “Jeremy from final year.”

You’d throw your empty cup at him, but he’d just duck. “I knew you were fucking him! I knew it! You tried to gaslight me and say you weren’t, but I saw the hickies on his neck!” There were only so many times Johnny ducked out of a math classroom covered in sweat, followed shortly by your classmate, before you put the pieces together.

Oh, but the rest of your friends called you a conspiracy theorist and told you to mind your business. Now, who’s laughing?

Soap holds his hands up in the universal ‘don’t shoot’ sign. “He needed health insurance. We’re married on paper. Haven’t seen him in a few years, but I know he’s doing alright.” Naturally, he’s already selflessly committed marriage fraud. You honestly should’ve seen that coming; that’s why you wanted to propose in the first place and figured you’d have a slim chance of success.

“Shit.” Now you’re back to square one. And it’s a shitty square, with walls that close in around you with every passing second.

The regret in his eyes overflows when he sees your slumped shoulders, how you’re picking at your cuticles hard enough to bleed. “‘M sorry. If I wasn’t locked down, you know that I’d do it for you in a heartbeat.” The worst part is that you know he’s being sincere, not just parroting empty platitudes.

Right. Well. That’s it, then.

You rub at your closed eyes, then at the stress wrinkle between your eyebrows. “Fuck. It’s fine, I know. I will… I’ll figure it out,” You sigh. Less than convincing, but it doesn’t need to be.

There are probably options you just haven’t thought of yet. Or maybe you can work something out with your doctor, where you only get your meds every other month. “I got it covered. Don’t worry about me.” You instantly see Soap rush to shake his head, to tell you that he’s always worried about you. You want to chastise him, tell him that he has plenty of things to be worried about in his own life. “Shush. It’s fine.” But you don’t have the heart to rake him over the coals for it now, so you settle for that.

You should go. You have things to do, things that include crying in your bed with the curtains drawn and urgently refreshing your email to see if anyone's gotten back to you. New jobs, aid organizations for low-income people, any further bad news.

Soap catches your wrist before you can say the appropriate goodbyes and rush out of the cafe. “Look- hold on- let me… let me ask my… friends.” He wrinkles his nose as he says it with an odd, stilted tone. Like ‘friends’ is a replacement for something he can’t say out loud in a civilian setting.

You can put the pieces together. “Is that what you’re calling your coworkers?”

“That’s classified, shut up.” His Scottish accent pops out there stronger than good malt whiskey. Hope is an easily-caught flame and far more difficult to extinguish. When you smile at him, you find it’s not entirely false. “Let me ask around, okay? They’re good guys. You might need to do the heavy lifting with your sparkling personality, but I can try.”

‘Sparkling personality’ is sort of ominous. ‘Don’t give them shit,’ is what he means to say. That’s fine, you’ve worked in customer service before. You can be on your best behavior.

You’re not exactly sure what kind of dude would be willing to marry a stranger, even if that is the kind of dude you want to marry.

But desperate times, desperate measures. “Thank you. Really. It would mean the world and…  would probably save my life.” You didn’t mean to get as choked up at the end as you do. No one else has been willing to help you, though, and Soap’s answering hug feels like desperately needed hope reviving itself in your chest.

“I’ve got you. And I hope I can help in the end, even if it’s not what you originally had in mind.”

-

Soap runs through his team members in his mind as he waits for the gate guard to scan his ID, trying to recall who’s tied down and who isn’t.

Captain’s got a wife, he thinks, and he’s a wee bit too old for you anyway.

It takes a second for the starry-eyed guard to hand him back the card and lift the gate.

You picked a good time to call him up; not only is he in town, menacing the local army base, but so is the rest of the 141—a rarity.

Vargas would certainly charm you, but Soap trusts Alejandro with you about as far as he could throw him.

Out of all the idiots he went to school with, you’re the only idiot who stuck around through the early years of his service, and you pursued your friendship like a hound after a fox even when he couldn’t properly reciprocate.

So John feels some responsibility for looking out for you, as you’ve always looked out for him.

Garrick wouldn’t be a half-bad choice. Dependable, responsible. Friendly, so your sham marriage would at least be enjoyable.

His mind drifts to his own errant mostly-platonic husband as he parks the borrowed car in his numbered space. Jeremy. The last time they spoke was over three years ago? Maybe four. Jeremy had found himself a new boyfriend and called to let him know, asking if Soap wanted a legal divorce. He was moving to some godforsaken corner of America. Florida? Maybe. That place has got too many fuckin’ states for him to remember them all.

They worked it out - they’d stay married, and Jeremy would keep out of his way. No love lost.

Roach could do it for you in a pinch as well. A little quiet, but maybe you’d work out something like him and Jeremy. Staying out of each other’s way.

Soap dismisses Lieutenant Riley without a second thought. On his best day, Ghost is about as inviting and amenable as a particularly hungry great white shark. And even if God himself came down from Heaven and changed Ghost’s heart to be interested, Soap would worry about you.

A lot. Even more than he already does, since the day you sobbed in his arms after school when you were first diagnosed. Since that day he had to help you out of bed because you could neither walk nor miss any more class.

Does he trust Ghost enough to fight alongside him? To have his back when there’s a gun against his head? Absolutely. Does he think Ghost would treat one of his oldest friends properly, befitting of the funny, kind, vibrant person you are? Abso-fuckin’-lutely not.

So that puts Gaz and Roach in his top choices for you and Vargas as a last-tier resort.

Armed forces worldwide, in Scotland and America, are all about efficiency. Eliminating redundancy.

And if that’s the excuse Johnny uses to justify blindsiding his whole team at once, so he doesn’t need to have this conversation three damn times and hear three separate rejections? That’s between him and God.

He herds them like sheep, plucking the Captain from his office, Garrick and Alejandro from conditioning in the gym, disturbing Roach’s book. Ghost appears out of nowhere as if summoned by the disturbance and falls in behind Soap. Not a single damn sound, of course. While that’s useful on deployment, he still has to tamp down on the instinct to jump every time he sees a skull mask hovering out of the corner of his eye in everyday life.

No matter. The lieutenant will likely wander out when the subject matter is revealed. It would raise more red flags if he told Ghost off.

He barely gets Lt. Riley through the pool room door before Captain jumps him. “Sergeant. What’s the trouble?”

That’s fuckin’ rude. “Why’d you assume I’m in trouble?” He indignantly replies. Except… yeah, there was that time he borrowed a humvee he had no permission to touch, and Captain covered for him to Laswell. Shit. “Well, I’m not.” At least, not this time.

Soap opens his mouth to argue this because it’s hardly fair for Cpt. Price to point fingers only to be cut off. “What is it?” At least Price has the decency to file the sharp edges off of his voice this time.

Right. He almost feels guilty getting sidetracked over something so stupid when he’s gathered everyone here for an infinitely more important reason.

Where does he start? How the fuck does he proposition them without sounding absolutely mental? “I… Hear me out.” Instantly, Garrick shakes his head ‘no,’ and Cpt.’s face remains as unmoved as a brick wall. Definitely not how he should have opened. “Wouldn’t be asking if the situation wasn’t desperate.” Soap opens his hands in the vain hope that the gesture will make them listen, at minimum.

You loathed hospitals and doctor’s offices when you first got sick. Now, you see the inside of them so often that it hardly fazes you. Still, Johnny always went along when you asked. So you wouldn’t have to be alone.

The countless memories of holding your hand as some faceless nurse sticks an IV in your elbow is the motivation that steps on the gas. “I have this friend,’ He tells them.

“You have friends?” If Vargas weren’t separated from him by the pool table, he’d reach over and stick an elbow in his side. What is it, official ‘piss off Sgt. MacTavish’ day?

They get in a laugh at his expense. “Shut up, you reprobate.” He puts enough bite in his tone to cut through the ruckus with the keenness of a knife. “I have this friend. Since I was a lad. She’s a good girl, good person. She needs our help.”

Everyone knows what he means by ‘good person,’ and the mere mention of a civilian girl in distress softens Gaz’s scowl and Alejandro’s scorn.

Their Captain nods, now significantly more amenable to this conversation than he was at the beginning. “Help?” Progress is progress, and for the first time, Soap allows himself to think he might be able to persuade someone.

“Yeah, well… you know these fuckin’ Americans. They don’t give a damn if people die like dogs in the streets. She lost her health insurance, and she’s… She’s ill. She’ll be ill for the rest of her life.” That’s something Johnny will never understand about this side of the pond. The NHS was never good, but at least it exists. All that freedom and shit, for what?

“Sorry to hear that. Fucking shame,” Price murmurs. 

“I was wondering if any of you might be interested in marrying her. For the fuckin’... benefits. I dunno know what exactly they are, but she mentioned new living quarters for her soldier.” He really ought to have looked this up beforehand and found some other things to sweeten the pot. “I’m already married. Had to turn the poor lass down, and I told her I’d at least ask you lot.”

Their captain gets up and off his ass like the stool’s on fire. “Alright. MacTavish, I’m leaving the room now. I’m going back to my office, and do not disturb me until you’re done,” He orders, mustache practically fuckin’ bristling with urgency. “I didn’t hear or see a thing.” With his parting words finished, Johnny watches the man book it out of the pool room in double time.

While he understands and appreciates the discretion, was that truly necessary? They’ve all done exponentially worse things than this.

His first choice makes a break for it, too. “Sorry, Soap,” Garrick declines. “I’m out. I’m sure she’s a delightful person, though being friends with you doesn’t speak highly of her life choices. But that’s a big ask, and I just don’t know her.” The sergeant taps him on the shoulder as he walks out in a silent show of support.

“‘Course.” With each man who leaves, his worry increases.

What voicemails will await him after he returns from the next mission? That things went horribly wrong, and you’ll be hospitalized for the rest of your life, or maybe even dead?

Whatever it is, there won’t be anything he can do by then. That’s the worst part.

“Yeah, can’t do it either, Sarge. I got a girl already.” Right. There goes Sanderson.

At least Alejandro has the decency to look genuinely sympathetic. “Let us know if there’s anything else we can do.”

Soap watches him leave and wonders if you’re still awake. It’s not late for him, but who knows? Maybe you keep normal hours now. “Yeah, I will.” You’d prefer to hear the bad news as soon as possible, but he would hate to wake you for it.

But he can’t ignore the ghoul haunting the corner any longer. “What are you still doing here, Lt.? I’ve gotta tell her I can’t help, and I don’t think you’d care to overhear that conversation.” His voice is a little sharper than is nice and proper, overflowing with prickly irritation like too much tea in a cracked cup. Of all the times for Ghost to not mind his fucking business…

“…what she look like?”

“What?”

And Riley’s got the audacity to repeat himself, slower, as if he’s stupid. “What does she look like? Got a picture?”

“Is this a joke?” Simon should stick to shitty quips about goldfish. At least those are tasteful.

The man doesn’t laugh, shake his head, or leave now that he’s successfully rattled Soap. He just stands there, as grave as always. Motherfucker. He means it. “Fuckin’… yeah, hold on,” Soap sighs as he fumbles for his phone.

He’s desperate because you’re desperate. He tells himself that, over and over, as he looks for a half-decent selfie. You’re a big girl, you knew what you were risking when you asked him for help.

Ghost takes his phone in his gloved hand. “Not bad,” He murmurs after a while. “I’ll do it. Marry her.”

A beat passes. Soap lets another one go.

Alright. The grace period is over and done with. “This is a really shitty, serious thing to mess around about. Genuinely. Don’t do that to her or me. This is about her health. Her life.” Johnny likes Lt. Riley. Really, he does. Even under all the freaky mask shit.

But this is mean-spirited. It would almost be out of character. It’s one thing to be careless if his sparring partner walks away with permanent nerve damage. This is fucking cruel if he doesn’t mean it.

Ghost can read minds now. “I mean it.” His chuckle makes Johnny fix his surprised expression into something more stern and imperceptible. “She’s desperate, isn’t she? I’ll do it.” When he walks closer, the changing light makes that skull on his face flash in and out of existence.

“Why?” If he can’t come up with a somewhat satisfactory answer… Soap’s fist can probably reach him fine from here.

And in a rather remarkable show of humanity, he watches Ghost pinch the bridge of his nose through his mask. “Think I like listening to you snore? Or fuckin’ Roach chattering on Discord at four in the morning?” Johnny never knew Ghost was such a little princess about that. Who would’ve thought?

The other man huffs a laugh. “Need my beauty sleep.”

“Yeah, you do, the mask’s not doin’ you any favors,” Soap retorts as if on autopilot. That’s only their longest-running tiff. You’ve got your work cut out for you to deal with that ugly mug, he thinks.

“You want me to help her or what?”

Right. Right. “Sorry.” He examines Ghost’s body language, searching for any hint of dishonesty. “If you so badly want out of the shared bunks, how come you haven’t found someone else yet? Or some other way?”

“You think girls are lining up outside my door proposing marriage? You can’t even find me off duty. Now I ain’t gotta find… some other way,” He says before leaning back against the wall, at ease now that his argument’s been made.

“Fair point.” Fair, but fucking dumb. “I’ll tell her. She’ll say yes, I know she will.” Jesus, does he wish he’d been able to persuade Garrick.

Soap considers exactly how much you should know about your intended before this shit goes down. On the one hand, it might be better for you not to know much, other than that he’s found someone relatively trustworthy and willing. On the other hand… interacting with Lt. Riley is something that should only be done after signing a covenant not to sue.

“Whatever you do, don’t hurt her. She’s been through enough already. And I meant it when I said she’s a good person. Too good for either of us.”

Nobody gets through secondary school untouched. Especially not at that prissy international school you met him at, filled with over-privileged rich kids and army brats scraping the bottom of the barrel. Like the two of you.

When you were fourteen, you picked him up by the scruff of his Scottish neck with a smile on your face, then hit the bastard who hit him first. Thick as thieves ever since.

“And if you can’t find it in you to be nice, just… promise you’ll leave her alone.” At least you’re more than capable of making Ghost’s life a living Hell if he fucks with you. He takes comfort in that and a healthy amount of glee at the possibility of watching that play out. He’s got a front-row seat, after all.

Riley shakes his head. “As long as she ain’t a burden, MacTavish, no need to fuss and cluck.”

For a moment, Soap almost pities him.

“Don’t hurt her. Promise me that, right now,” He stresses. Just in case. At least eliciting this agreement might remind Ghost in the future to stay his hand.

The other man sighs. “I won’t,” He says at last. And Soap can tell he means it.

“Get out. I’ll let her know.”

[demonsword586]

Beelzebub Attacker part 1

Whew! This took a little longer than I expected. Then again,the first parts are always a bit longer. The next part is coming in a few days!

(Pg: Abyssos streets)

The crowded streets of Abyssos at night.

Nicknamed the Country of Pleasure,the nights were brighter than the days.

And there,you...

Sniff Sniff

Beelzebub: Ha....Smells nice...

You were walking down that busy,tumultous street with Beelzebub,a handsome man who smelled your hair and was openly horny.

Mc: Ah! Don't smell me there...

Beelzebub: Why not? It smells delicious-

Embarrassed,you tried to push Beelzebub away,but it was impossible because he had his arm around your shoulders,half-leaning on you.

The streets of Abyssos's entertainment district where even more devils come and became crowded as the sun set,

And you had no choice but to walk closer to Beelzebub to avoid being run over by other devils.

The devils grew in number,the neon lights of the night were blindly bright,and Beelzebub bamboozled you most of all.

His flushed face,his soft voice and his guidence.

Beelzebub: Welcome to the night of Abyssos,the city of drugs,gambling and pleasure.

Beelzebub: Abyssos is a country where everything is legal. Oh! Except stealing other's lovers.

Beelzebub: I wanted to introduce you to the back alleys of our proud Abyssos. For the pride of Abyssos is not in the palace but in the back streets.

Beelzebub: Everywhere in Gehenna is like a back alley,but no offense,it's nostalgic. Keke~

Beelzebub said many things as though he was excited. You had never seen Beelzebub in such high spirits before.

Beelzebub: Oh! I wanted to go to that store with you.

He raised his finger,pointing at the sign far away.

{White Lovers}

Beelzebub: That restaurant is famous for making it's sauce with the semen of the healthiest,best-batured male devils in Abyssos.

Beelzebub: It's such that you would dance at the healthy taste once you try it.

Mc: (What the....It's strange but I'm curious.)

Leaning on you to the point it made you staggger,Beelzebub spoke joyfully with his arm around your waist.

Then,he pointed at the sign on the next store with his finger and continued.

{Forest of mushrooms}

Beelzebub: The shop next door is a cafe rhat distills the saliva of the most handsome men in Abyssos to make a variety of drinks.

Beelzebub: It's been around for 800 years,so there's a lot of tradition and a lot of pride.

Beelzebub: At the end of the day,they collect saliva and put it in Baba Yaga's cauldron to distill overnight,then make a drink from it in the morning to sell.

Beelzebub: There's only a certain amount of spit you can collect per night,so there's a limited amount they can sell,and I've only tried it a few times.

Mc: (So weird,but I want to try it!)

Afterward,Beelzebub entertained you by showing you around as if he were taking you on a trip.

Of course,you were most excited and happy to walk through a main street with an extraordinarily handsome man-

Mc: (Ugh...Satan will be angry)

That was right. You were at the royal tower of Gehenna a few minutes ago.

(Pg changes to Gehenna halls)

While enjoying a cup of tea with Ppyong and Sitri,Sitri's tea was too strong and caused Ppyong to go into caffeine shock. So the two momentarily left you for a while.

Beelzebub: Shall we get moving?

Mc: Beelzebub?!

Beelzebub appeared from behind your back,slipped his hand behind your knee to scooped you up in a princess hug,and flew out through the window.

(Pg changes back to Abyssos streets)

As a result,here you were.

You werw casually enjoying your date with Beelzebub,as if you'd arrange it days before.

Mc: (Wait,why was he in Gehenna? I mean,since when was he nearby?! And how did we arrive in Abyssos so quickly?!)

You were full of questions,but you were too hectic. And whats more...

Mc: (It feels like Beelzebub can disappear anytime soon,so I don't want to waste time talking about trivial things)

Even if it was Beelzebub's strategy to make you think that, you were willing to be fooled.

Mc: (Because Beelzebub is so cool that I don't want to waste a single second even when he's right next to me...)

You furtively raised your head to look up at Beelzebub's side profile as he joyfully looked around his surroundings.

The man who was leaning against you so casually,that you almost felt regretful,was looking around with a faint smile of longing and affection in his eyes.

Mc: Come to think of it....the surrounding devils are quiet. I thought they would cause a fuss again with Beelzebub being here.

Mc: Don't tell me that you caused a spell or something?

Beelzebub: Well,what do you think?

Beelzebub chuckled instead of answering. A naughty man who never gave a serious answer. But this was as good as 'yes'.

Otherwise,it didn't make sense that they would not recognize Beelzebub when they were so close to each other, they were bumping shoulders.

Mc: Anyway,what happened? It's so sudden!

Beelzebub: Sniff* Sniff*

Mc: (I was an idiot for wanting an answer...)

Beelzebub buried his nose in the top of your head as though he didn't have time to answer.

Bewlzebub: There are about three places where you smell really strongly. One is here,another is in your armpits and the third is in your-

Speaking in joy,Beelzebub pretended to straighten up and whispered in your ear.

Beelzebub: And 'that' place which began to get wet as soon as I started sniffing you.

Mc:!!

You tightened your thighs before you knew it.

Beelzebub snickered and rubbed his cheek in your messy hair.

Beelzebub: I missed you. That's all.

Mc: !!!

Your heart thumped without resistence at the innocent confession,lightly delivered at the strange timing.

Strangely enough,you didn't feel like hiding the feelings in your heart.

Minhyeok's face momentarily flashed in your mind,but at the same time,another more honest emotion you had...

Mc: I missed you too.

Beelzebub: I thought you did. That's why I came here to see you.

The man's words had no weight,no modesty,but you thought it didn't matter.

Mc: (It's nice to hear)

With that honest emotion alone,you decided to enjoy this situation.

As though he had sensed your feelings,Beelzebub began to walk while pulling you closer to him and holding !ou more closely than before.

Just then,a sign poking out above the tall devils' head caught your eye.

Mc: Beelzebub,what kind of store is that? It has a drawing of a knife...is it a restaurant?

Beelzebub: Ahh,thats the store run by a devil who has the ability to change your gender.

Beelzebub: If you invest a few more seconds there,you can change !our gender right away.

Beelzebub: Its only available there,but it's a favorite spot for devils who want to swap positions with their lover.

Mc: T-That's amazing!

Beelzebub: Well,but it doesn't matter to you,right? All the devils here woudn't mind if you were a man or a woman.

Beelzebub said in a sing-song voice as thought the fact made him really happy.

Beelzebub: Ah,we're nearly there.

Mc: (You had a destination in mind?!)

You gasped in suprise and pointed at the nearest sign.

The sign had a drawing of a rope which looked like a noose.

Mc: Is that our destination?

Beelzebub: Ah,no. But shall we stop by there if you're intrested?

Mc: What do they have in there?

Beelzebub: It's a suicidal cafe. The customers can decide on the method of suicide.

Beelzebub: They can die by decapitation,dismemberment or drowning.

Mc: What?! Do they really die?!

Beelzebub: No,the owner of the store comes to save you just before you die,so you won't die for real.

Beelzebub: But it's just a place you go to feel that ectatic feeling of death.

Beelzebub: When you're really a second away from death,the owner uses his ability to restore you to your previous state.

Beelzebub: From what I heard,the owner is from Paradise Lost....He's a mysterious devil.

Mc: Is it alright for a devil from another country to do business here?

Beelzebub: Well,Bael will take care of that well,so - I don't really know about things like that.

Mc: (You're the king,but you don't know.)

Feeling trivially shocked,you sent words of comfort to Bael in your mind.

Just thwn Beelzebub came to a stop and so did you.

He had come to a stop infront of a bright red,steel door in the shape of a large arch.

Mc: Is this today's destination?

Beelzebub: No,this is a shelter.

Beelzebub: In human terms...a home in the woods? A bench in a large square in the center of a park? I don't know.

Mc: This flashy,prominent thing is a shelter?

Beelzebub: It should be flashy and prominent for you to notice and rest inside,shoudn't it?

Mc: Now that you say it,yea.

Persuaded by Beelzebub's reason,you opened the large door and entered with Beelzebub.

(Pg changes to the 'shelter' inside)

But you froze,your expectations of relaxing music or quiet room dashed as soon as you walked through the door.

Happy-looking Male devil: Ah...hnn!...

Happy-looking Female devil: Hn,hnn-hnngh...ah...ah!

Over the sticky,jazzy music,loud moans from around the spacious room overlapped,creating a cacophony that tickled your stomach.

In the reddish room,there was a plush couch that was obviously meant for relaxation, but it was covered in bodily fluids spilled by the devils everywhere...

And they were even conducting intercourse on the couch.

Mc: B-Beelzebub,I think we entered the wrong room...

Scratching your cheek in embarrassment,you pulled on thw hem of Beelzebub's clothes. He turned,then-

Beelzebub: Raise your arms. Say hooray!

Mc: Hooray?...

Beelzebub required it all too naturally,and you raised your arms without even doubting him.

Then the shirt you were wearing was pulled off the top of your head.

Mc: Huhhh?!!!

Startled,you raised your arms too late to cover your chest,

Beelzebub: How nice of you. Are you helping me?

Said Beelzebub,then casually threw his arms around you as if to embrace you,and immediately reached behind your back to unhook your bra.

Mc: Huhhhh?!

You made a stupid sound again,but you were already in Beelzebub's arms,stripped of your shirt and upper underwear.

Mc: W-Wait! I don't know what's going on now-

Beelzebub: We are going to take a break!

Beelzebub smiled as he hugged you.

You were about to experience a 'break' rhat you had never experienced before.

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Leather Weather

—

Time written-4:10 p.m

Jason Todd/fem!reader fluff (featuring off brand Starbucks, something stupid inspired from my lack of caffeine)

—

The rain was nice, not enough to weigh down clothes, scarcely enough to wreak havoc on your hair.

A solemn, constant drizzle emitted from dark, pillowy clouds, growing darker throughout the day.

It was cold, though. A solid 61 degrees.

You weren’t too sure if it was rain or tiny shards of ice that pommeled your cheeks, the chill leaving you too concerned about it to care.

Can we go get coffee? You texted Jason from your couch slouch, a blanket comfortably shielding your toes from the chill.

A solid six seconds pass before an echo of a yell erupts from your bedroom.

“You could’ve walked about twenty steps to come ask me!”

You stifle a giggle before opening your phone again, typing your response on screen before hitting send.

Too lazy. Can we take Batmobile?

Pure silence invades the space of your home before you finally get a response. Patience, as it’s known, brings great rewards.

Ok.

Some amusing demon on your shoulder insisted Jason would be incredibly casual about bringing a limousine to take you to get coffee. Or worse.

Only someone like Dick would be crazy to bring a party bus with stripper poles. No one would be silly enough to deny it much.

“Here.” A heavy, thick weight plasters over both your shoulders. A fairly strong scent of cologne you had bought for his birthday wafted through your nose, making your heart flutter.

His leather jacket protects your body from a majority of the rain, whilst the grey cotton hoodie shields your hair. The cherry to this was the pleasantly long sleeves hanging past your fingertips.

You would think you’d have to beg to borrow his jacket, but it would be on your body before the thought even comes to mind. He enjoys seeing you in his clothes, especially one of his old leather jackets, with sweater lining inside to make it just the right amount of cozy.

“Bruce still makes you work in this weather?” You question the vigilante as he runs his hand through his damp hair, tilting his head back on the headrest with a sigh.

“Yep.”

He peers out the window, watching the rain ripple down along the surface. “Don’t get me started on how it all works. I know it’s cold, but the suit helps me deal with it.”

Gotham weather such as this, paired with the early afternoon before the work rush buzz kicks in lead to semi empty streets, making it quite a smooth ride towards the favorable coffee shop.

“I know what you’re gonna say,” Jason chides shortly before you could sit up in your set and breeze the drive thru menu,

“Got it memorized up in here,” he taps along his temple. “But don’t kill me if they misplace one sprinkle, alright?”

“We’ll see,” you dramatically tease, slouching back in your seat once more. After a three car wait, Jason comes to order your drink first, leaving you focus on various raindrops grouping together before rippling down along the windshield.

“That’s it?” You chime after hearing Jason confirm the order the attendee repeated back to him.

“What?” Jason glances over whilst pulling out his wallet.

“A chai tea?” You say with furrowed brows. “That’s it?”

Jason blinks, slowly pulling out some cash.

“Yeah?” He nearly hesitates, responding with utter confusion. “Technically babe, it’s just chai. That means tea.”

“Yeah, I know, but that’s all you’re gonna get??”

He keeps quiet, unsure how else to respond.

“Yeah. It tastes good.” He shrugged, keeping his attention focused on the car in front him.

He extends his hand to grasp two paper cups with beige sleeves and signature, rich green logo. You sip your drink nearly on the spot, humming in delight.

“Perfect.”

“Dessert in a cup, more like.” Jason mutters under his breath as he pulls back onto the road.

“It’s delicious,” you insist as you take your cup, seeing him roll his eyes. “Don’t judge me cause you order boring drinks.”

“Chai is good, okay? It’s not complicated, an’ I like it.”

You stare ahead, biting the inner corner of your cheek in thought before taking another sip of your hot drink.

“You raise your pinkie sometimes,” you broadly state, your gaze just as fixated on the road as his.

“You slurp obnoxiously loud for your no reason.” Jason chides in retaliation to your statement.

“Says the guy who drinks solid black coffee seven times a week.”

“You order vanilla bean frappes thinking they have coffee in it, an’ they don’t!”

“So??”

“You’re literally drinking blended milk, babe!”

“Sometimes that’s all I need!” An involuntary giggle at such an ear sore of an amusing conversation takes place. “Come on, Jay. The stigma of guys ordering something other than coffee—“

“It’s not that,” He quickly insists, huffing a little. “Believe me, it ain’t. It just looks like an overcomplicated menu, hurts my eyes tryin’ to understand it all.”

“When Christmas comes around, you’re gonna try the Christmas Cookie. Or the candycane. It’s delicious, you’ll love it—“

“You namin’ desserts, or..?”

“Drinks. C’mon, you like peppermint.”

Jason dramatically exhales at a stoplight, bringing his drink to his lips. “I do like peppermint.”

He glanced at you, a short smile brushing along his lip as you sip your drink with scrunched leather sleeves pushed up to your wrists. “Is it good?”

“Perfectly,” you smile at him. A picture of beauty.

“Thank you, Jason.”

“I gotcha sweetheart,” Jason smiles, watching your content expression unfold as the warmth of your overtly sweetened drink fills you with such joy.

His hand settles along your thigh on the drive home.

A warm drink, a warm seat and the warm coat of a loving man. A car ride home couldn’t get better than this.

“You wanna check out Barnes and Noble?” Jason proposes.

“Oh, fuck yeah.”

[its-still-cuppi-cakes]

How I think the shaw pack boys reacted the first time their mates told them they're on their period in the relationship

⚠️Tw: period stuff bc I'm going THROUGH IT and this is how I cope⚠️

David:

He is worried and makes Angel take care of themself. That means eating the proper foods that are good for them and gets them their supplies and snacks.

Research about periods and how to help.

Once he finds out the caffeine makes cramps worse, he's confiscating any and all energy drinks and sodas.

Angel can only have sparkling water like Clear American and fanta.

Angel whines and begs for a monster or a coke every month.

Milo:

Knows everything about periods from the get go.

Marie told him about periods and 13 yr old Milo was like "I'm gonna learn more about this bc I'm attracted to people how could have this."

Knows Sweetheart can't have caffeine bc it makes cramps worse.

Gets tea, decaf coffee, caffeine free soda.

Shares his chocolate stash with them.

Has a stuffed animal that you warm up and is a heating pad.

Will baby them and take care of them, even if they say they're fine.

Asher:

Panic.

He knew what a period was, but omg they sound horrible to go through!

"Do you need anything?? Water?? Pain killers?? Heating pad? Okay I got it, just don't move."

He's very sweet but is worried out of his mind. He texts Milo for advice.

He doesn't take away any of the foods or drinks, he trusts that babe knows what's best for them and their body.

Though if they aren't taking care of themself and is just staying up all night, he will step in and say something.

[lu-lus-duckies]

You all need sleep and I may not be the best sleeper but here's some tips. these especially go out to @xxx-angie @nunalastor and @the-aprilfools-bitch . I will be in your closets making sure you all get good sleep >:(

rest your eyes from tv and phone. Just blue light in general. instead you could listen to music or podcasts. those are much better.

try sleeping between 2-4 PM at the latest (which means either that or EARLIER). your body produces the most melatonin (the thing you need to sleep) at those times. It will be much harder to fall asleep later than that

Take a warm bath or shower. If I didn't have a bad relationship with liquids, I would be doing this all day. the warmness helps drop your body temperature and generally lower temperatures signal to the body that it's nighttime and consequently bedtime.

no coffee if you drink some, unless you got ADHD (angie). I've heard caffeine works backwards for people with ADHD

If you grew up in a home with the TV on constantly or just generally had some noise around you in your childhood whenever you went to bed, TURN ON SOME NOISE. It is what happens with me and I can't sleep without some noise.

It would be nice if your bed was only used for sleeping, but I know that's not happening lmao

midgnight snacks disturb your sleep. try to avoid those, since your body starts metabolism during nights. it doesn't need more food to process. but if you must grab a snack, it's best to choose something that's easily digestible and maybe even increases the production of melatonin. some of these are milk (obviously), bananas, nuts, eggs, tea, vegetables and such.

Don't rely too much on meds, otherwise your body will get used to it and will depend on it for you to go to sleep. Instead you could try pavlov effecting yourself with something similar that can always be available. For example, before going to sleep, perform a certain action (I used this method in school and my version was patting myself on the head or touching my cheek with the hand opposite to it). once you've done this enough times before sleep, your brain will associate that action with sleep and you'll get a little sleepy if you do it again. This takes a long time though, A month maybe I have stopped doing this, but if nothing else works this can be an option. Though this isn't perfect lulu side rant: tried to condition myself with a ring once. was really bad with doing homework on time, so everytime I was doing homework I would switch a ring I wore to my forefinger. And this was only used for that situation. I never moved my ring to my forefinger for any reason at all. Thought this would work, but the only conditional response I got was that everytime I moved that ring to my forefinger I started thinking about homework and not really doing it.

If that doesn't work, try changing your enviorment. It doesn't have to be drastic. for example: sleep backwards. lay your head where your feet usually are and your head where your feet usually are. or maybe try sleeping on the floor. I am paranoid about sleeping in other peoples houses but this is the reason I tend to fall asleep anyway

If your lack of sleep is caused by anxiety (like intrusive thoughts or thinking about the future), try listening to a mindless podcast or a youtube video. It will help distract from your thoughts and give you something to focus your mind on, plus most content these days tend to try and turn your mind off to get that sweet sweet watchtime.

If all else fails, you can try to tire your brain out I guess. that's my method for extemely bad sleepless nights. I start reading because that's the most tiring activity I can do in bed and usually I fall asleep in the middle of it.

[anonymous-rendezvous]

Take A Break, Won’t You?

💙 Ike Eveland x GN!Reader

✦ — Written by Mod S 👿. Beta Read and Edited by Mod I ✨. ⏌

✧ — Contains: Established Relationship, NSFW 🔞, oral (male reciving), Dom!Ike, slightly bratty Reader, teasing, & hair pulling

✦ — Word count: 5k+ | Ao3

The novelist is in the middle of writing one of his greatest stories yet. Except, he’s been so engrossed in writing that he hasn’t paid much attention to you as of late. Luckily for you though, you know just how to push his buttons to gain his attention.

Part 2 of Under-The-Desk Shenanigans

<< Previous | | next >>

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Ike is a very brilliant man. His mind can conjure up some of the most creative and enthralling ideas you’ve ever heard. Ranging between the most fantastical of fantasy to the more mundane and down-to-earth slices of life. Truly, he is one of the most hard-working people you know.

The only downside to such a person is that he gets completely enraptured by his work. Often forgetting to eat or sleep; and on rare occasions, even forgetting to bathe. Running merely on willpower and caffeinated drinks. Today was one such day, but instead of forgetting to eat or sleep, he’s kinda forgotten that you’re his partner. You know he doesn’t do it purposefully. But even with your godly amount of patience – you too have a limit.

Currently, you are making him a cup of tea. Waiting beside the cup as it steeps, enjoying the smell as you stand in your shared kitchen. ‘Maybe this’ll convince him to take a break,’ you think to yourself. Knowing Ike though, he’ll most likely promise to take one, but just keep on working. Sighing at the thought, you remove the tea bag from the cup and discard it. You pause for a moment before deciding to grab him a muffin as well. “Here’s hoping I can convince him with this.”

Walking down the hall, tea and muffin in hand, you can hear his working playlist before you even approach the office door. Setting the small plate containing the muffin over the top of the tea, you raise your free hand to knock lightly before opening the door an inch. Calling out in a soft voice to your boyfriend, “My love, I’ve brought you some tea and a little snack.”

Ike looks up, hazel eyes landing on you as he adjusts his glasses. He sits up straighter and gives you a soft smile as he locks eyes with you. “Oh, thank you, sweetie. I was just thinking about getting myself a drink.” The novelist makes a beckoning motion with his hand, urging you inside as he says, “Go ahead, come in.”

Following his motion, you step in and nudge the door shut behind you. “Making good progress?” you inquire as you approach his desk, setting down the plate.

He nods while gesturing to his work, showing you the latest page. “Actually, yes, I’ve been on a roll since this morning. Even made it to page one hundred and twenty-five, which is past the goal I had for today.”

Your entire demeanor perks up at his words, excitedly asking, “Does this mean you’re done for the day?”

He freezes for a moment before looking at you sheepishly. “Uhhh, well…” He looks to the side, fidgeting with the chain on his glasses. “I was gonna keep going, honestly. My brain is still moving a million miles a minute, and I feel really motivated.”

You pout at him, visibly disappointed by the news as your shoulders sag. He’s been working like this ever since he woke up; you’re worried he’ll overexert himself. Hell, he’s already showing some signs of it. His eyes look tired from staring at the screen and his posture has gotten worse since you’ve last been in here. You refuse to leave him like this. He watches you in confusion as you turn to grab a chair from the other side of the room.

“Darling, what are you doing?” Ike turns in his chair, following your movements as you drag your chair next to his.

“I’m staying here with you to make sure you at least drink all that tea and eat the muffin. You’ve been working all day. So if I can’t convince you to take a break, I’m staying here. Lord knows when you’ll be done.” When you sit in your chair and look back into his eyes, you can see how apologetic he is. He truly feels bad for making you worry over him, and he wishes he could fight this habit, but it’s just so ingrained in him.

With a sigh, he nods and scoots back into his desk. “Okay. I have no problem with you staying either way, but I appreciate your worry for me. I wouldn’t wanna make you any more upset than you are with me, too.”

You cross your arms over your chest, and with an exaggerated pout, you turn your head. “That’s right, you owe me big time.” His melodic laugh fills the room as you peek back at him, watching as Ike picks up his tea to take a sip.

“Of course, darling, you’ll have me all to yourself after I’m done.” His tone is much softer and you can hear the apology laced in those words. Uncrossing your arms, you get comfortable in your chair, pulling your phone out to busy yourself while he continues his novel. Letting a few moments pass, he slowly gets completely re-engrossed in his work. All the while, you decided it was time to switch tactics. After all, your presence and tea offering failed to convince him to take a break.

Time for Plan B; a more physical distraction. 

Moving a bit closer, your chair's armrest bumps into his. You let out a small ‘sorry’, causing him to peek at you instead of your hands. He gives you a quick nod and returns to typing, while you wait another moment before slowly pulling up the armrests of both your chairs, granting you new access to his body. He lets out a startled noise as he feels your head suddenly rest on his shoulder, hazel eyes looking down at you. You return his gaze with an innocent expression, honey-coated words dripping from your lips. “Sorry darling, just resting my head on your shoulder. Didn’t mean to startle you, you're just so… warm.”

Ike blushes a bit at your words, physically pausing for a moment. For a second, he could have sworn he heard something else in your tone. Yet when you just stay there on his shoulder, his suspicions tamp down as quickly as they came. Clearing his throat, he returns his gaze to the screen, adjusting his glasses in embarrassment. “W–well, it’s no problem. Stay there as long as you like.” He wasted no time in returning to his work, but this time, thoroughly flustered. 

‘Good, all according to plan.’ you think, fighting down a smirk. You make yourself comfortable, nuzzling and cuddling into Ike’s side. The novelist, on the other hand, was completely still aside from his hands diligently working. Yet what was happening within his thoughts was another story.

He was in a state of frenzy, his thoughts spiraling out of control. It wasn't until this moment that he genuinely grasped how much he had missed having you next to him. He feels even worse as he realizes how much time– the sheer amount of weeks this has gone on for and realizes that this is probably how you’ve felt within that time. He swore then he’d only finish a few more pages so he could then properly give you attention. Except Ike is jolted from his thoughts when he suddenly feels one of your hands on his chest, the heat of your skin sinking into the fabric. One of your fingers lightly traced the buttons on his shirt. He tries to pay no mind to it at first – that is until your hand starts trailing lower and lower. “Sweetie,” he keeps his tone even, looking down at you, “what are you doing?”

You look back at him with the same innocent eyes as before, but he swears he sees a hint of mischievousness in them. “Don’t mind me; just preoccupying myself until you're done. Am I being distracting?” Your last question has a slightly smokey tone to it, and you can’t help but giggle as you watch Ike’s cheeks get brighter as he grows more flustered.

“U–uh not at all…” He pauses as he averts his eyes back to his computer. Taking a breath before speaking again, “I’ll only be doing a couple more pages, so this won’t take too long.” 

You let out a drawn-out ‘Mhmmm’ as you circle the lower buttons on his shirt. With how you were currently positioned, you could hear the way he swallowed hard. He’s almost there, you can feel it. Just a bit more teasing – a few more sweet words – and then you’ll have his full attention.

The realization was slowly dawning on the novelist. There was no way this couldn’t have been a formulated plan. All the honeyed words, the soft touches– a plan to distract him. And if he was honest with himself, at any other time, he likely would’ve given in already. If only he wasn't in the middle of writing an integral part of his story. He hopes by telling you that he’s almost done, that you won’t take the teasing any further. That’s what he hopes at least. Ike, however, knows you. He’s spent more than enough time with you to pick out your tells, just as you’ve learned to pick up on his. He just prays you’re not in a particularly devilish mood today.

Settling back in, a good half hour passes with you just resting against him – occasionally messing with his buttons from time to time. You didn’t wanna rush your plan. That wouldn’t be fun. And honestly, you want him to welcome the distraction. A frustrated Ike Eveland was attractive, but you didn’t want to frustrate him to the point of actually being upset. Peeking back up at him, you note that he’s no longer tense from your earlier actions. Hazel eyes glazed with focus and his lips pursed in concentration. It’s honestly adorable and if you weren’t feeling so touch-starved you wouldn’t have minded staying like this. Alas, you wanted some harmless payback.

Wetting your lips, you slowly take in the skin on his neck before lightly kissing it as you nuzzle your face into him. Immediately his attention is returned to you, head tipped down to look at you, lips parted as your action had surprised him. However, you just giggle and continue to pepper his neck with soft kisses. Ike makes a noise and you can feel the vibrations of it with the way your lips are pressed against his neck. Sliding your gaze up, you find his face is a mix of flustered and pouty, his eyebrows furrowed to match his emotions. 

His eyes search yours as he speaks, a slight franticness to his voice, “Hun, please, I promise I’m almost done. No teasing, okay?” 

You wet your lips again in response, catching the way his eyes flicker down for a second before he returns his gaze to yours. “Teasing? Me? I’m just giving you some kisses. It’s been so long–” you draw the word out, intentionally pouting your lips so they continue to brush against his neck– “since I’ve gotten one from you.” 

Ike furrows his eyebrows, a slight pout forming on his soft lips. “And I will give you all the kisses you want when I’m done.” His tone is firm but gentle as he makes his point. One of his hands accentuated his words as he spoke. Sighing, he turns his attention back to his computer. “No more teasing, sweetie.” With that, he gets back to typing, determined to not be distracted anymore; keeping his focus on the novel. 

Yet the second his eyes return to the screen, a smirk curls against your lips. ‘Perfect, he’s getting frustrated. Time for the finale.’ As you nuzzle into his neck once more, you continue to pepper light kisses on his neck. Letting your lips linger on a few, the hand on his chest moves to unbutton his top shirt button. Your eyes stay locked on his expression, watching him the entire time as he tries to refrain from letting you distract him further. Yet by the pink of his ears, you can tell your touch is working.

Keeping an excruciatingly slow pace, you unbutton another button. Fingers playing with the fabric on his shirt, the skin of your hand just lightly grazing his bare chest. Ike closes his eyes tightly for a second, attempting to calm his breathing. He can’t let you win. He's stubborn. But he knows that you are, too. In the process of him trying to control his breathing, it suddenly catches in his throat – feeling your tongue lick at his neck, causing his body to tense and shiver.

“Hmm?” You chuckle as you bring your hand up, using a finger to turn his head towards you. “What’s wrong? Something bothering you?” You bring yourself closer, noses barely touching, as you say in a hushed voice, “I thought you were gonna continue working?” As you observe, his eye twitches and his face becomes increasingly red from frustration and embarrassment. You slide your hand into the newfound opening you had made in his shirt, sliding it down to undo a few more buttons, your eyes following the path of your hand. Before you can fully get down to his stomach, you feel a firm hand wrap around your wrist. Looking back up at your boyfriend through your lashes; continuing to act innocent even if he doesn’t buy it anymore.

The novelist lets out a deep breath as he continues to watch you. The look in his hazel eyes is intense. He’s figured out the game you're playing and as much as he doesn’t want to let you win, he’s just as touch-starved as you. His frustration mixes with his bottled-up affection. He just wants you; wants to touch and tease you back. Ike pulls you closer by your captured wrist, wanting to kiss you.

Except he’s left you wanting for so long; you can’t just give him what he wants so easily. Tilting your head away slightly, his lips press against your cheek instead. When he pulls away, he’s met with your half-lidded expression. “Uh-uh, come on Ikey. Did you think I’d give you what you want after you’ve deprived me of what I’ve wanted for days?” With a breathy tone, you lean closer to his ear, “I know you’re frustrated, but whose fault is that?” With how close you are, you can hear the sound of his teeth clenching in vexation as your warm breath brushes against his ear.

He lets out a huff, and you chuckle as you pull away. Feeling quite pleased with yourself as you’ve successfully gotten him frustrated and aroused. Removing your wrist out of his hold, you grab his as you stand from your chair, pushing it aside as it’s completed its purpose. With a little shove, Ike’s desk chair easily rolls back as you make space to scoot in between him and his desk. Using your knees to knock his legs further apart to make room for yourself. Lifting a knee to place on the open space on his chair, right in between his thighs, you use your free hand to brace yourself on the back of the chair as you hover over him. “You can keep working, babe. But I think I should help with your growing problem down there.” You both simultaneously look at the ever-growing bulge in Ike’s pants and then back at each other. Ike’s gaze seemed to grow more intense behind his frames – but also a splash of excitement. “Plus, it’ll give me what I want, win-win.” You say with a smile.

Ike gives no resistance to what you’re implying, keeping still in your grasp. Only his piercing hazel eyes tell you everything you need to know. There’s a pause before he finally speaks, his tone deeper – almost exasperated – as he talks. “Fine. I’ll let you do what you want. But–" he gives you a sharp look "I am going to get you back for this. Expect a punishment following this; I won’t be going easy on you.” He feels your hands tremble a bit at the thought. However, you stay firm as you move closer to his face.

Lips grazing his as you speak, “Likewise.” You lean forward and finally connect your lips properly. Ike nearly catches you off guard with how quickly he pushes his tongue in your mouth. You're not complaining though, you want it just as much as he does. He leans his head forward, tongue swirling with yours as he tries to gain the upper hand on you; his glasses bumping against your face lightly. Opening your eyes, you pull back from his lips, his head jerking forward a bit from the sudden action. Your laugh is breathy. “Aww, so pent-up.” He pants as he looks up at you through his eyelashes, eyes conveying annoyance and unhidden lust. "Don’t worry, I’ll help you with that, but we’re gonna do it my way.”

The novelist raises an eyebrow at you, curious about what you have in store for him. Your hands separate from his wrist and he has to hold himself back from pulling you against him – knowing you’d stop if he was too rash. He feels your hand on his chest and he follows it as it trails down, continuing your earlier actions of unbuttoning his shirt as you make your way lower. Ike jolts a bit when you make it to the hem of his pants. The lust clouding his mind enhances his senses, causing your touch to feel like jolts of electricity throughout his body. He looks back up when he hears that infuriatingly teasing, yet alluring tone from you.

“Since you’re so adamant about working, I’ll let you do it. But, I’m going to take what I want from you…” trailing off with a breathy chuckle, you lean closer, lips nearly brushing his ear, “and what I want is your cock in my mouth.” Your voice is a low whisper, and you smirk as you feel him shiver from the vulgarity of your words.

Pulling back, you remove your knee from his chair, kneeling in front of him as you pull him closer by the armrest. He watches as you undo his belt and pants, hands, then gently pulling his half-hard cock out of his boxers. Licking your lips, you slowly start to pump him in your hand, looking up to watch his face scrunch in pleasure. “Mmm, already so close to being hard, that desperate for my lips, aren’t you?”

He scowls at you, composing himself before scooting in closer – startling you a bit. Ike reaches up to adjust his glasses, giving you a small smirk of his own, making it feel as though your stomach was doing flips. “How about you stop talking and get to work? You’re the one who seems eager for it, darling.” Ike wasn’t gonna let you humiliate him completely. He might be sexually frustrated right now, but he could still make you a mess. A precursor to the punishment he’s going to give you later. And quite frankly, you were looking forward to it.

With a huff, you get to work immediately. Building up the saliva in your mouth before spitting in your hand, pumping him with a firmer grip than before. Ike hisses in pleasure, yet is quick to straighten himself out as he consciously returns his attention to his work, continuing to type away at his novel. He lets out a few sighs, his breathing heavy as he works, biting at his lip to keep himself somewhat composed. ‘How the hell am I gonna concentrate with their hand on me like that–ugh, I won’t be able to hold back for very long.’

His little noises only pushed you to continue, enjoying being able to finally touch him, and soon, taste him. Your hand works meticulously and with practice ease, as you feel him grow harder, the wetness of your saliva helping your hand glide across him. When he is fully hard, you pull your hand away, using your other hand to push any hair out of your face before giving his cock a long lick from the base to the tip. Giving it a little kiss and giggling when you hear yet another sharp inhale of breath. Returning your hand to hold him as you lean forward to lick up and down his cock repeatedly, your hand massaging his tip; urging his pre-cum to leak out. 

His cock throbs in your hand, feeling the wetness of the pre-cum cover your thumb as you rubbed the underside of his tip. Collecting it, you use it to lube his cock more, stroking it a few more times before you lean your head forward. Your lips give the tip of his cock another kiss before taking him into your mouth, letting your tongue swipe across it slowly.

Ike lets out a low grunt, his thighs twitching from the pleasurable strokes of your tongue. He risks taking a peek down at you; watching as you engulf half of him, feeling it slide down your throat. ‘Fuck, that feels good…’ Biting his lip, Ike’s fist clench on his desk, his breath shaky and voice getting caught in his throat from holding back his noises. His eyes follow your movements, watching you bob your head up and down, feeling your hands move to rest on his legs. The moans and sighs you were making against him weren’t helping, as he felt himself start to throb more into your mouth.

He's surprised when you suddenly lock eyes with him, a whine almost slipping past his lips when you suddenly pull off his cock. Smirking up at him with an intentional licking of your lips – his eyes tracking the movement. “What’s the matter? I thought you were working on your novel, babe?”

Ike lets out a guttural noise before looking back at his screen. His eyes quickly scan the contents before looking back down at you, seeming to contemplate his next move. The novelist weighs between two invisible options before letting out a deep breath, settling his intense lust-clouded hazel eyes on you. “To hell with it…” He sees your eyes widen as he scoots his chair away from the desk, your hands landing on the floor as they fall from his legs. “I can’t take it anymore–just, come on. Please, finish me off. Your mouth feels… exquisite.” His voice was demanding and breathy, and he watched as your expression grew just a bit more flustered; his lips twitching upward briefly in a smirk.

Swallowing hard, you collect yourself before looking up at him with half-lidded excitement. You leaned your body forward, crawling towards him as you held his burning gaze. When you get back in between his legs, your eyes glance down at his cock before looking back to him. “Don’t hold back, baby. I want all that cum in my mouth.” And with that, your mouth took him in again, bobbing your head with just as much vigor as before.

The office is filled with the sounds of both your moans; yours muffled and his quiet with a mix of lustful sighs. Ike watches intently as you suck him off, the wet sounds only driving him closer to the edge. He wanted more–no; he needed more. All he wanted right now was to cum in your mouth. To watch you swallow it slowly, tasting and milking all of him. He watched on, one of his hands tangled in his hair, pushing his bangs back to make sure he could take in the sight of you when an idea struck him. The novelist's free hand trailed its way down to rest on the top of your head, causing you to look up at him from your ministrations.

“Darling,” the pet name dripped from his lips like honey, “how about you take a bit more?” You were about to nod when you felt his hand slip to the back of your head. It took you a moment to register, but he was a bit quicker than your thoughts. “Here, let me help you…” Ike twists his fingers into a good portion of your hair before pulling at it to make you take more of his cock in your mouth. You let out a long moan as your eyelids flutter. This type of desperation from your boyfriend is rare; yet whenever it does happen, it never fails to make you feel heat flaring throughout your body. Your lips and tongue move faster against him, happily taking every inch as his moaning picks up in frequency. His glasses have started to fog around the edges thanks to the heat radiating off his breath. It took every last shred of will not to close his eyes from the immense pleasure.

You could feel his hips starting to softly buck into your mouth, and every time he’d pull your hair it would only spur you on to take more of him – causing you to deep throat his length. His moans were getting more unashamed as you made sure your mouth left no inch of him untouched; getting louder as he chased his orgasm. You feel saliva start to form more and drip down his cock, trying to keep up with his hips; tongue swirling around to give him more friction. 

Ike’s heartbeat was heavy in his ears and he felt his whole body tense. He has to swallow hard to keep his voice from giving out as he moans. “Come on darling, so close. I’m almost there…” He reaches the other hand in his hair down to your head, both hands now firmly on your head. The sweat that had begun to form on his forehead, drips down the side of his face; a side effect of your current activity, filling the room with tangible heat.

You feel Ike pull your hair back, making you look him in the eyes; moaning in response to how hot he looked. Keeping eye contact with him, you feel him twitch even more in your mouth. Reaching down to rub in-between your legs to give yourself some relief, wanting to cum along with him; needing the sought-after friction since this began. His eyes widen a bit as he watches your hand frantically rub against yourself, then fully slipping beneath the hem of your clothes, causing him to bite his lip as he pushes your head into him deeper. 

“Oh fuck, baby, I’m cumming! I’m– Ah! Come on… be good–hah–swallow it all..” Ike's eyes instinctively close as he cums, cock throbbing and feeling bliss as it all pours down your throat. His back arches in his chair from the pleasure before collapsing back down, sweat-coated chest heaving with his labored breaths. 

It’s to the feeling of his warm cum filling your mouth that draws you to orgasm as well, body trembling as you try to keep your mouth closed around him to swallow; your own hand slowing to draw out the pleasure. Your eyes roll back as you drink him in slowly, free hand reaching up to softly massage his balls, wanting every last drop; Ike lets out a cute gasp as you do.

The novelist watches you with breathless wonder, feeling as though he could go again with how debauched you looked. So eager to drink down every drop of him. He swallows hard as you release him from your mouth only to start licking him clean, letting out a soft sigh when you finally pull your mouth away from his softening cock - but not without leaving one last kiss on it as you do. He leans his head back as he tries to steady his breathing, untangling his hands from your hair to wipe away the sweat from his face.

You chuckle as you watch him, slipping your hand out of your pants. As your eyes wander up his body to look up at his face, you wet your swollen lips, speaking up to tease him. “I’m glad I finally got your attention away from your book.” Your voice is somewhat raspy after the act you’d just done. “Maybe I should do this more often when you're overworking yourself, hmm?” You laugh as his head lifts to look at you, a pouty expression on his flushed face.

“You better not…” Hazel eyes squint at you.

“Hehe, well maybe you should learn to take proper breaks then, Ikey.” You stick your tongue out at him playfully and he huffs, defeated.

He shakes his head, a fond look in his eyes. “Fine, but only because you’re not asking. You’re honestly demanding me more than anything, sweetie…” You giggle and carefully stand up, legs a bit wobbly from sitting on them for so long. Ike notices this and scoots forward, grabbing your wrist gently to steady you. “Careful there, darling.”

Nodding in appreciation, you steady your stance, looking down to make sure you're not wobbling anymore. Meeting his eyes, you smile sweetly. “We should go get cleaned up. I’m insisting that we take a shower together, then I’ll leave you alone again so you can finish those last few pages.”

He lets go of you and nods in agreement, tucking himself back in his pants as he does. “Well, how could I refuse, dear? I’ll also give you cuddles and attention, like I said earlier after I’m done. You deserve it after my negligence.” Ike stands up and gives you one of his beautiful soft smiles, making your gaze soften.

“Well, I just hope you learned your lesson. Come on now, I’m sure you don’t like being sweaty either.” You walk happily towards the door, hearing your boyfriend’s footsteps follow behind you.

Just as you're about to leave the room, you feel his hand softly rest on your shoulder, before feeling his soft breath on your ear; his voice has an almost sinister tone as he whispers, “And since I’m recalling things,” a shiver racks through your body, “don’t think I forgot about your… punishment, that I mentioned earlier.” Your eyes widen as you tense and you’re about to look at him. However, he just continues moving past you, making his way to your shared bathroom.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Mod S 👿: Here I am fighting the Bottom!Ike agenda. Not that it’s shown too much here, but I really tried to mimic his kinda ‘assertive’ nature here (idk how to explain it). I was very heavily going off of how he acts in the Voice-packs and some character mannerisms he’s done on stream too. Anyway, first time writing Ike with smut, I hope I did okay!

───

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[chocolate-root-beer-float2000]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕒𝕣𝕖 ℕ𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕖𝕤

By: @Chocolate-Root-Beer-Float2000

For Health/Fasting Health

You could always take multivitamins & call it a day. Though, here's what to do in the means of being thorough.

Vitamins:

Vitamin C: Vitamin C helps with skin, hair, & most importantly bowel function. Something about it just gets your whole body a jolt to just fuckin function.

Vitamin K: Vitamin K helps with blood circulation & bone health. K2 can also do this though it is more protein & metabolism based.

Vitamin B12: Speaking of metabolism, B12, it can help with metabolism most importantly brain function and energy.

Magnesium: It's great for fasting, because in the state of ketosis your body goes into during a fast, it looks into your body specifically to produce its own natural energy. Because of that, it can go by quickly. I mean, w/your whole body needing it to function & all. So taking the added supplement will help.

Probiotics: This supplement is good for keeping in healthy bacteria & getting rid of the bad bacteria to really help your gut function as properly as it should..instead of storing icky stuff it doesn't need.

Omega-3: Omega-3s are good for keeping your blood clean & liver healthy along with so many other health benefits that you can have fun looking into.

Vitamin D: Helps keep your body strong. Literally, it's like the glue to keep in your bones from deteriorating.

Iron: This is for blood production. Gotta keep that heart going for that body to keep working; & it helps with dizziness as well as natural body temperature.

Iodine: Last but not least. This is your thyroid's biggest cheerleader. It's there to keep it or put it back into proper function; it helps to prevent brain damage as well. Just like B12, at least in that aspect.

Things To Help Avoid Cravings during Fast/Binge:

Gum

Tea/Coffee

Broth

Soup

Veggies

Fruit

Juice

Remember:

Keep your body moving even if it's 15 minutes, a day 30 minutes, a day or an hour work up to it if you have to. Though again, I'm not your parent, so up to you.

Drink up to a gallon of water a day, even if it's tea. Do what you have to do after all.

Try not to stress. I know it's easier said than done, though that's what practice and keeping our own boundaries are for. Stress is the biggest factor to obesity these days because it puts your body into a state of stress to where it holds onto fat! Crazy.

If you're like me and fall asleep on caffeine, drinks with electrolytes, like Gatorade, can help a lot with balancing your blood sugar and the dizziness you may feel when overworked or standing up too fast.

That's it, that's all I got for now.

Remember, I can only recommend healthier alternatives.

Never force anyone to do something they don't wanna do.

Bon chance!

-Chocolate

P.S: If there's any misspellings or any information you believe I have wrong, let me know! I'd be happy to fix it.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

HELLO, first time asker here! My request is:

M6 with an MC that doesn’t drink?

The Arcana HCs: M6 with an MC that doesn't drink

~ love this one! considering how frequently alcohol appears in the story lines and how common it is to stay sober (for many, very good reasons), this is an interesting setup to think about. I hope you enjoy, anon! - brainrot ~

Julian

Feels terrible when the second time you meet is him inviting you into a tavern for a drink. Apologizes profusely, and is struck by the oddness of asking Barth the barkeep for two waters instead

Noticing the amount of times he would be reaching for a drink and then not doing it because it feels awkward around you makes him realize just how much he likes to drink as a coping mechanism

Uses that as another reason why he isn't good enough for you

Which gives you the chance to talk to him about it later - why you don't drink, what your comfort level is around people who are drinking, etc

All in all it becomes a kind of accountability for him, even if you never intend for it to be

Because being around you leads to him drinking less often and less at a time, he's tempted to just put you in charge of whether or not he drinks and how much (he doesn't, of course, because his good or bad decisions are not your responsibility)

It ends up becoming a fun social activity for him instead of a go-to relaxing method

Just don't come after his coffee addiction. He can live without alcohol, he cannot live without caffeine

Asra

They enjoy drinking but it's not the most regular thing - they're more likely to do it either 1) as a social thing, or 2) because it's a drink they've never seen before and the curiosity is killing them

He's also canonically a lightweight - two drinks is all it takes for him to need help getting home, and he doesn't like being vulnerable

They respect your boundaries and comfort above everything else, so how they proceed is up to your preferences:

If you're comfortable being around alcohol, he'll drink some evenings after making sure you have an equally tasty/delightful non-alcoholic beverage to enjoy

If you're not, they'll indulge when they're visiting Nadia and Julian at the Palace and you can't make it (you're always invited though)

Or when he's on a trip without you and it glows in the dark and Faust really, really wants a taste

It's unlikely that they'll consider abstaining from alcohol unless you ask them to. As respectful as they are, they avoid limiting others (especially you) and expect others not to put limits on them in turn

Uses it as a challenge to create the best mocktail

Nadia

... Oh?

She's not judging, she's just surprised. She can't remember a dinner where there hasn't been alcohol served, and every noble she knows partakes frequently (I mean, just look at Valerius)

Now she's feeling a little embarrassed because the only other drink she can think of to offer is tea (or plain water) and that's not respectable at all

Becomes much more conscientious about having decent non-alcoholic options available at Palace functions

Speaking of, what would be most comfortable for you? Does it bother you at all if she drinks while she's spending one-on-one time with you? How about at dinners?

Now she's realizing that she can't remember the last time she went a day without drinking, and that doesn't strike her as a good thing

She decides to try cutting back and is surprised at how it goes for her. It turns out that a lot of the habits she formed were simply because that's how it had always been done around her

She approaches drinking as a conscious decision now and gives all the credit to you

Muriel

Yeah, he doesn't drink either

He also knows from the few times Asra talked him into it that he only gets moodier and less sociable when he does, and neither of those are things he wants to be around you

Honestly he's relieved because it makes everything easier

Including attending parties

He's a lot more likely to say yes and try going to one if you're going to be there and he can count on you to stay sober with him in case everyone else decides to go ahead and get wasted

What he's not prepared for is how, by the third get together, all of your friends take that as an invitation to make the two of you the equivalent of the designated drivers. He is not impressed

Now you have to make new rules about how neither of you is responsible for what your friends get up to (the good news is that Muriel is very good at saying no to people)

Once, Asra jokingly suggested that Julian stay out at the hut with the two of you for a few weeks to force him to go sober for a bit

The look of horror on Muriel's face still makes them laugh

Portia

So, her favorite drink is beer ...

She's the least surprised to find out that you don't drink. She's traveled all around the world and catered to all kinds of tourists and guests

If anything, she loves that about you. She's seen first-hand the kinds of messes that drunk palace guests are capable of making and knowing that you'll never do that is delightful to her

She personally has a robust but healthy relationship with drinking

Does she partake every day? No. Several times a week? Of course! It's part and parcel of a good time with a good group of friends!

She totally understands and respects where you're coming from, but she's pretty comfortable where she's at, so she's not going to adjust many of her own habits unless you ask her to

She will ask you all about your own decision though, simply because she wants to know you

What led you to give it up? Did you ever drink much in the first place? Is there some kind of mystical magic reason involved?

So very invested in respecting and protecting your preferences

Lucio

Well at first, he couldn't decide if you were a total stick in the mud or just ignorant about what you were missing out on

He's just spent the last three years as a ghostly goatman, unable to partake in any of the good things in life, and the first person he's able to make contact with doesn't drink? Why???

He brings it up constantly at first because 1) it doesn't make sense to him, and 2) he keeps assuming that it means you're judging him for his past drinking habits

You'll eventually have to hash it out with him along with all of your other personality differences, explaining why you make that decision and what your comfort levels are around it

Once he knows that you're not going to force him to quit, he decides to try doing it anyways

He may as well try a few weeks of going sober, seeing as he's trying to improve and you're on the road and don't have the biggest budget and there aren't that many parties to attend

So impressed by his own ability to change and make a decision like that that he does it more often. He still parties sometimes, though

[willalove75]

Hii, can I request Rebecca X reader. Something similar to the plot where she met the Dutch man and had an amazing day . She met reader is Paris (the most beautiful woman line is so 🥺). they met in a bar or coffee shop and spent a wonderful weekend together ? Rebecca is surprised that reader still wants to see her considering she's younger . She actually felt free and happy ,no stress and not judged . Flirting, fluff , anything. You write her character so well and accurately 😁

I LOVE THIS🥺🥺 And thank you so much!! I'm glad I'm able to do her justice!😄💕

Thank you so much for the request!!💕💕

Walking through the streets of Paris, you're trying your best to not get lost. You left your hostel almost an hour ago trying to find the café you went to the day before but since you know virtually no French, your search hasn't been going well.

You stumble across a different café, it wasn't the one you were looking for but you're in desperate need of food and caffeine so you cut your losses and walk in.

You walk up to the counter and butcher your order of a tea and croissant, the barista manages to understand you, but you still receive a ton of dirty looks from the staff and other patrons of the café.

You're handed your order and turn to find a place to sit down. In the corner of the shop you see a beautiful blond woman gazing out the window, sipping on her drink. The café isn't super crowded, but you decide to shoot your shot and ask her if you can join her. She's absolutely stunning so it takes you a few seconds to gain up the courage to put one foot in front of the other.

As you're walking over she looks away from the window and your eyes meet, her gorgeous green eyes take your breath away for a moment. It's in that second you realize that there's a good chance she's French and doesn't speak any English and you start to panic, but you can't back out now. You take the last few steps up to her table and she smiles at you.

"Hi, um, is this seat taken?" You shyly ask.

The woman smiles, her eyes sparkling, it would be a miracle if she understands you right now.

"No, not at all."

You exhale a sigh of relief and sit down.

"Oh thank god you speak English. It didn't dawn on me that there was a really good chance you only spoke French until it was too late for me to abandon ship." You say with a laugh as you sit.

The woman softly laughs. "Well today must be your lucky day."

"It certainly seems that way. I'm y/n, sorry for interrupting your breakfast, this might sound super cheesy but I saw you and I was like 'wow she's absolutely beautiful' and I had to at least try and talk to you." You look away as you feel your cheeks getting red.

"You're so sweet, thank you so much. I'm Rebecca." She reaches out her hand and you shake it. "So what brings you to Paris y/n?"

"My friend and I were supposed to come here together but she got covid before we left so she couldn't come."

"Oh no, so you're here all by yourself?" She asks.

"Yup, it's even more unfortunate because she was the one who spoke French and I don't speak an ounce of it, so it's safe to say that most of the people I interact with are not my biggest fans." You say as you look over at the barista who catches your eye and gives you a dirty look. You turn back to Rebecca and you both laugh. "So why are you in Paris?"

"I had some time off from work so I decided to go on a little trip by myself."

"Oh that's cool, I'm guessing you speak French?"

"Oui, je parle couramment le français."

(Yes, I am fluent in French)

"I have no idea what any of that meant but I'm going to take a wild guess and say that's a yes?"

"Yes," she says with a laugh. "It means 'yes, I'm fluent in French.'"

"Oh that's really cool! Where did you learn French?"

"I learned it in school, we started learning young and I picked it up really easily. Do you know any languages?"

"Not really, I took Spanish in middle school and high school but I didn't like it and forgot just about all of it by the time I graduated. I do know sign language though. Well, American sign language that is."

"That's really interesting, how much sign language do you know?"

"I'm pretty much fluent." You begin to sign as you speak. "I can practically have this whole conversation in asl. I took a few classes in high school because my friend convinced me to sign up for it and I fell in love with it. They offered asl classes at my college so I just kept with it. I don't get to use it often, but it's a fun party trick." You say with a laugh.

You watch Rebecca follow your hands as you sign, she looks mesmerized by it, like she's watching a ballet dancer.

"That's really, really fascinating." She says with a smile.

"Yeah, but I do have to be careful when I'm not in the US because signs in asl could mean something completely different in another languages sign language. With my luck I'll sign a song I'm listening to or something and end up accidentally cursing out an old man." You say with a laugh.

Rebecca laughs and you take a sip of your tea as you giggle.

"Where are you from in America?" Rebecca asks.

"I'm from New York." You say with a smile.

"Oh you're from New York City?"

You laugh "No, although it's always really funny to me that everyone assumes you're from NYC when you tell someone who's not from New York that you're from New York. I'm from the suburbs, but the city is only like an hour or so away. Where are you from?"

"I can understand that, I'm from London."

"Oh cool! I'm actually going there on Monday! Where in London? Like near Buckingham Palace?"

Rebecca laughs "No, New York and London are similar in that it seems that people assume when you say you're from there, they automatically think of the city. I live in Richmond, about 45 minutes from Buckingham Palace."

"Ah, I guess New York and London are much more similar than I would have expected."

"Will you be travelling to London by yourself as well?" She asks.

"Yup, we were going to spend five days in Paris and five in London and then head home, although I may extend my stay if I'm really enjoying myself in London, but we'll see."

"Ten days is a long time to be alone." She says.

"Oh it sure is, I was starting to go a little stir crazy which is also one of the reasons I decided to come talk to you. But mostly because you're really beautiful and I knew I was going to kick myself if I didn't at least try to strike up a conversation with you."

You swear you see Rebecca blush a little as she brings her cup to her lips. She looks out the window and back at you.

"This may ridiculous, and please don't feel obligated to say yes, but I was going to take a walk along the Seine, would you like to join me?"

You begin to feel butterflies in your stomach and you immediately try and squash them.

"Yes, absolutely. I would love to."

You finish your drink and your croissant and you both leave the café and head towards the Seine. You make small talk as you walk, Rebecca points out different buildings and structures, talking about their history. You watch her as she talks about what you two walk past, the passion she has in her eyes and the excitement that radiates off of her is precious, even though you barely know each other, you feel a bond already.

"So what have you done so far since you've been here?" She asks.

"Well, I got in really early Wednesday morning so I checked in and just wandered around for most of the day, truthfully I got lost for about three hours and managed to find my way back by some miracle." You both laugh. "And Thursday I went to Versailles and spent the day there and yesterday I walked around the Louvre for the entire day on accident, that place is massive. But I've just been doing touristy things for the most part."

"You haven't been to the Eiffel Tower yet?" She asks.

"Not yet, I mean I've seen it, but I was planning on doing that sometime today, I want to see it sparkle at night. I heard it was beautiful."

"It is very pretty, although I did tell a friend of mine once that the Eiffel Tower was just a lamppost with a publicist."

You laugh out loud "Stop, that's really fucking funny."

The two of you walk around some more, making small talk, laughing, just genuinely enjoying each others company.

After a few hours of walking around you both decide you need a rest. Rebecca says she knows of a good restaurant that's more of a "locals" place where you can get lunch and you two head there.

Rebecca asks for a table for two in what sounds like perfect French, although you genuinely would have no idea if it was perfect or completely butchered, but whatever she said, it sounded great. The waiter brings you to your table and hands you menu's. You both look over the menu's and she translates everything for you. You both decide on what you want to order and the waiter comes back to take your orders. Rebecca orders in perfect French, once again, and you completely butcher the name of the dish you want. The waiter gives you a dirty look and takes the menu's and walks away.

As soon as he's out of ear shot you and Rebecca bust out laughing.

"Holy shit that guy hates me."

"I can't believe he gave you that look!"

"Oh I can, I've been getting that look from everyone since I got here." You say as you laugh.

"Oh no!" Rebecca says as she laughs.

The waiter comes back over with your drinks and you both try your hardest to hold back your laughter, the waiter gives you both that look this time and as soon as he turns his back you both burst out laughing again.

You food comes out and you enjoy your lunch, Rebecca leaves to go to the bathroom when she's finished eating and when she gets back she grabs her bag.

"Ready to go?" She asks you.

"Wait, what about the check?"

"I took care of it."

"Oh my god no you did not!"

The waiter hands Rebecca the receipt and she thanks him in French.

"Dude! You did not have to-"

"I know, but I wanted to treat my new friend to lunch for her first time here in Paris."

"Thank you, but then I'm buying dinner!" You pause for a second and try to save yourself, you don't want her to think she has to be stuck with you all day because you're alone, or make her think you assume she'll go out to dinner with you. "Or something." You quickly add.

Rebecca puts her hand to her chin and thinks for a second.

"Um, nope. I'm buying you dinner also." She says with a smile. "If you would like to have dinner with me as well, that is." She says a little shyly.

"I would love to, but I don't want you to feel like you have to pay for me!" You say as the two of you leave the restaurant.

"I don't, I want to."

"Are you sure? Dinners here can get expensive and I would hate to-"

"Don't worry about that, trust me, it's not a problem." She says with a smile. "So what else were you planning on doing today?"

"I wanted to see the Notre Dame, the Sainte-Chapelle, I'd like to see the arch, your usual first-time in Paris touristy things."

"Well then allow me to be your tour guide."

"Are you sure? I mean don't get me wrong I'd love to keep hanging out with you, but I'd feel so bad if you wasted your whole day chaperoning me around and not get to do whatever you planned on doing today."

"Well actually my plan was to find a pretty girl that was in Paris all alone and give her a tour of the city." She says with a wink and you laugh. "No but truthfully, my plan was to walk around and shop, that's it. I'd much rather do this with you."

"Okay, if you insist. Where to next my lovely tour guide?"

Rebecca spends the rest of the afternoon showing you the city, you see the Norte Dame, the Sainte-Chapelle, and make your way across the city to the arch. You feel like you're spending the day with one of your best friends, not a stranger you just met that morning at a random café you decided to wander in to.

"Do you want to come get a drink with me before dinner?" Rebecca asks.

"Yeah, absolutely." You say with a smile.

"Okay, the bar in the hotel I'm staying at is gorgeous, and I can make reservations at one of my favorite restaurants."

"That sounds perfect. Is there a dress code for the restaurant?"

"Oh good point,"

"I have fancy restaurant clothes in my hostel I can change into."

"You're staying in a hostel?" She asks, surprised.

"Hell yeah, it's actually pretty nice, and it was like dirt cheap."

"Where is it?"

"Close by the Notre Dame!"

"The Notre Dame?! How the hell did you end up all the way by the café this morning?"

"I was looking for a café I went to yesterday but I couldn't find it and got lost, so I just walked into the the first café I found, and it was that one. It's quite serendipitous if you ask me."

Rebecca shakes her head at you and hails a cab and you both get dropped off at your hostel.

"This is it?" She asks.

"Yeah!"

"Okay, it's actually nicer than I thought it was going to be."

"See? I told you!" You tease her. She rolls her eyes at you and you walk inside.

You bring her to your room and she looks horrified when she sees that you're sharing the room with two other people.

"It's not bad, they're a nice German couple."

"You can't stay here."

"What are you talking about?"

"Grab your stuff, stay with me in my hotel, I have a suite with an extra bedroom you're more than welcome to stay in."

"Oh god Rebecca I can't do that I don't want to impose-"

"You aren't and you can, I can't let you stay in this hostel, alone, with two random German people. Come on." She says with a smile as she grabs your bag.

"Are you sure?" You ask as she walks out.

"Yes!" She says, walking down the hall with your luggage.

You check out of the hostel and take a cab to Rebecca's hotel. Your jaw hits the floor when you realize she's staying at the Hôtel Plaza Athénée.

"Rebecca, are you fucking joking?"

"What?"

"The fucking Hôtel Plaza Athénée? This is your hotel? Where you have a suite with two rooms?!"

"Yeah, I stay here in the presidential every time I come to Paris."

You look at her like she's insane. "What the fuck do you do for a living?" You ask as she pulls you into the hotel.

"I run a football club."

"Football? I didn't even think football was popular over here."

"Soccer."

"Oh, right." You laugh. "Ah, gotta love the American ignorance." You joke and the two of you laugh.

You get into her suite and your jaw is on the floor, it's absolutely stunning, it has a full living room, fireplace, two big, gorgeous bedrooms, each with their own master bathroom. Rebecca pulls the curtains open and you see the Eiffel Tower perfectly from the view.

"Holy shit." You say quietly, completely captivated by the view. "This is amazing." You turn and look at her and see her with a smile on her face.

"Isn't it?" She says, gazing out the window.

You both admire the view for a moment and eventually you bring your stuff into your room and get changed. You walk out in a cute cocktail dress, your most comfortable pair of heels, your hair pulled back on one side and a little bit of makeup. You see Rebecca sitting at the little desk on the phone, you assume she's making dinner reservations. She hangs up and looks at you.

"Wow, you look beautiful y/n." She says with a smile.

"Thank you," you say. She stands up and your jaw practically hits the floor. "Jesus Christ," you quietly say. Rebecca is wearing a dark blue dress that hugs every curve on her body perfectly. You figured she had a good shape when you were with her all day, but the jeans, t-shirt and jacket she was wearing hid a lot of it. You never expected her to look like a fucking model.

"What?" She asks a little worried, looking down. "Does this not look good?"

"No, holy shit no, you just look amazing. Like I new you were beautiful, but I didn't know you literally had a perfect hour glass figure, wow." You shake your head to try and snap out of it. "I'm sorry, I'm no better than a man sometimes." You laugh as your cheeks turn pink.

You're worried you offended her, but you look at her and it actually looks like she found it endearing.

"Well thank you, I appreciate the compliment. Ready to go?"

"Yes! Absolutely."

You two head down to the bar and grab a few drinks before dinner. You chat and laugh as you enjoy your drinks. Once you finish, Rebecca pays the bill, against your wishes, and you head to the restaurant.

The restaurant is absolutely stunning, you can tell just by looking at it that it's a 5-star restaurant. You're brought to your seats and given menu's. Just like she did at lunch, Rebecca translates the menu for you and this time you let her order for the both of you in French, you've had enough nasty looks from waiters for one day. Your drinks arrive and you both cheers to new friends.

You're talking about your lives, where you grew up, what your friends are like, just generally getting to know each other.

"How old are you anyway?" She asks.

"I'm 28-"

"Oh my god. I could be your mother." She puts her face in her hands.

"Oh stop it no you can not! How old are you?"

"48." She says quietly.

"Oh shut up there's no way, I don't believe that for a second!"

"I am!"

"You look damn good for your age then, I thought you were like 40, 45 at the very oldest, and like in a 'wow she looks young for 45' way."

"Well thank you." She says as she laughs.

Your food arrives and smells delicious, you both dig in and laugh and chat over dinner. You order more drinks and dessert and when you're finished Rebecca pays the bill and you two head out.

"Okay, now for our last stop of the night." She says, looking at you. "The Eiffel Tower."

She grabs your hand and leads you to it. She buys two tickets and you take the elevator up to the very top. The sun is just setting and you stand by the railing, stunned by the beauty in front of you.

"Woah." You say with wonder in your eyes.

Rebecca stands next to you, both of you taking in the gorgeous view. You both stand there for a few minutes in silence, just enjoying each others company and the gorgeous sunset.

Once the sun sets Rebecca turns to you.

"Come down to one of the lower decks with me."

She grabs your hand and you follow her down a few flights of stairs to a lower level. You stand by the railing and look across the city, a cold breeze passes through causing you to shiver.

"Here," Rebecca says, taking off her scarf and wrapping it around you. "Better?"

"Yes, thank you." Her scarf smells like her, you close your eyes as you inhale the scent, you never though a scent would match a view so well, but for some reason, it just pulls the entire experience all together.

The lights on the tower shut off and you quickly turn around, unsure of what's happening.

"Woah, why did the lights go out?" You ask, looking around to see if anyone else is reacting.

After a few moments they come back on and you realize they're flickering. You look up to the top of the tower where you were earlier and you realize that the tower is sparkling.

Your eyes light up like a child on Christmas day, you stand there in awe as you watch the tower sparkle above you. You look over at Rebecca and see that she's looking at you, looking at the lights. The lights flashing across her face make her eyes glitter, you don't think you've ever seen someone look so beautiful as she does right now. You both look into each others eyes for a moment.

You're not sure how it happened or who made the first move, but in an instant your lips are together. You bring your hands to her face and she holds onto your waist. Her lips are the softest lips you've ever felt in your life, her tongue slides into your mouth and dances around yours. This moment is absolutely perfect and you don't ever want it to end.

What felt like hours later, but in reality was probably only a minute or two, your lips finally part. She gently brushes her lips against yours, you can feel her heart beating quickly as she holds you against her; she can probably feel that yours is racing too.

"Do you want to go back-" she asks quietly.

"Mhm." You mutter as you shake your head yes. Your lips meet once more and after they part you make your way back to the hotel.

You were worried that the moment would pass by the time you got back to the hotel, but the closer you got, the more eager the two of you became.

You get into her suite and you put your bags down, take your jackets off, you remove Rebecca's scarf and she pulls you into her again for another kiss. She kisses you passionately for a minute before leading you into her bedroom.

You both kick off your shoes and Rebecca comes up behind you and places her hands on your hips and kisses your neck. You sigh and lean back into her, tilting your head so she has more access to your neck. Her hands travel up your sides and you feel her move your hair aside and pull down the zipper of your dress. You let it fall to the ground and turn to face her and gesture for her to turn around. You grab the zipper and slide it down, you kiss down her back as the zipper exposes her skin. Her dress falls to the ground and you unclip her bra and you reach behind your back and unclip yours.

She leads you to the bed and pulls you into her, your bodies pressing against each other, your lips interlocked, your fingers tangled in her hair and her hands exploring your body. This might be the most passion you've ever felt in your life.

The night goes by in a blur. You have flashes of memories of you kissing her down her body, the way her skin felt on your lips, you remember the sounds you both made as you panted, the moans that escaped from her lips when you went down on her. How sweet she tasted, what her fingers felt like in your hair as she grabbed hold of you, the way her back arched when you hit that sweet spot deep inside her, how warm and wet she was, the way her skin felt under your fingers as you held onto her hips. The cries she made were the most beautiful sounds you had ever heard as you brought her to her climax and took her over the edge. You remember how her legs gently shook as she came down from her high, that she took a minute just to be able to catch her breath.

You remember the dominance she showed when she flipped you onto your back, how she definitely left marks as her lips traveled down your body. The ticklish sensations when she kissed and nibbled the inside of your thighs, what her tongue felt like when she finally made contact with your dripping center, the way her hair felt between your fingers as you grabbed hold of her. The sounds that you made when her fingers curled deep inside you, the way she felt inside of you, how your hips bucked wildly when she brought you to the edge. You remember seeing stars when you felt her lips wrap around your clit when she pushed you over the edge, the way you cried out her name when she had you ride out your orgasm as long as possible.

You remember her wrapping you in her arms when you were done, how she slowly and passionately kissed you, how your legs felt tangled with hers under the sheets. You remember looking into her gorgeous green eyes, how they reflected the sparkles from the glittering Eiffel Tower out the window. You realized in that moment you've never felt so connected, so bonded, so in love with anyone else in your life. Sure you had just met that morning, but over the course of the day you became closer to her faster than you have with anyone else. You let out a relaxed sigh and closed your eyes when she nuzzled her nose against yours, you felt her chest rise and fall against yours as she drifted off to sleep, you drifting off to sleep with her.

You wake up the next morning convinced that yesterday was just a beautiful dream. As your senses wake up you recognize her scent, you realize that you're still wrapped in each others arms, you try and savor the moment before you open your eyes, anxious that once you do, everything that you both had last night would be gone. You feel her shift in your arms and you open you eyes to meet hers, she has a worry in her eyes that makes your heart hurt a little. You can tell that she's worried about the same thing that you are, you smile and tuck a piece of her golden locks behind her ear, your hand coming to a rest on her cheek, caressing it with your thumb. A smile crosses her face and she brings her lips to yours, you hold onto her as you kiss her with a soft passion. Your lips part and you look into each others eyes for a moment.

"I was so worried I was going to wake up and this was all going to be a dream." You quietly say as you study the details of her face.

"So was I, or that I would wake up to an empty bed, or that I would wake up and you would tell me it was a mistake." She quietly responds as she strokes your hair.

"It certainly was not." You say with a smile as you gently kiss her.

You see a sadness in her eyes when your lips part.

"What's wrong?" You ask, concerned.

"When are you going to London?"

"My flight leaves tomorrow afternoon. Why? When do you go back?"

"Tonight." She says with a sadness in her voice that makes your heart hurt.

"Well, then I'll see you when I get in tomorrow."

"You don't have-"

"No, I want to. I don't want to not ever see you again after you leave tonight."

She looks a little surprised. "Really?"

"Really. I know it's crazy because we've known each other for literally 24 hours, but, I really like you. I haven't felt this close to someone in a long time, I don't want to lose this."

"Even though I'm 20 years your senior?"

"I don't care about that, not even a little bit. It wasn't even something that crossed my mind once."

She pulls you into her and kisses you, a smile left on both of your faces when you part.

"Where were you planning on staying in London?"

"Another hostel." You say with a smile.

"Well, that's not happening. Stay with me." She says as she looks deep into your eyes.

"I would love to."

"I'll have my driver pick you up from the airport and bring you to my house."

"You driver? How much fucking money do you have?!" You say as you laugh.

"A lot." She says with a laugh as she kisses you again.

"Hm, lucky me." You joke between kisses.

Rebecca laughs into the kiss.

You spend the rest of your last day together in Paris in her suite, most of it was spent in bed. You had breakfast and lunch delivered to the room and you both sat in the living room in fluffy robes laughing and cuddling while you ate. You laid in bed together for as long as possible, trying to stretch out every minute before she had to leave to catch her flight. Rebecca extended the room reservation for another night so you could stay. When it finally came time, you helped her pack her things and you got dressed and walked her down to the lobby.

You felt ridiculous for having a lump in your throat as you make your way downstairs, not only will you see her literally tomorrow, you've known her for less than two days. But in those two days you fell completely head over heels in love with her, even though neither of you have said it out loud, you're pretty sure she did too.

The driver puts her bags in the car and she stands in front of you and wraps her arms around you, you wrap your arms around her and you two hold each other for a minute. You look up at her and she meets your gaze, you look into her gorgeous eyes and she leans down and kisses you. When you part you realize her eyes are glassy, yours are too.

"I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" She asks.

"Yes, absolutely."

"Good." She says as she lets go of you. "I l- I'll see you tomorrow." She catches herself from blurting out the three words you can't wait to be able to say to her.

"I'll see you tomorrow." She turns to get into the car. "Oh shit wait!" You say and she turns back to you.

"What?"

You start laughing and pull out your phone. "I need your number."

Rebecca starts laughing, a few of her tears escape and trickle down her cheeks. "Oh my god." She says grabbing your phone. "I can't believe we didn't do this yet."

She puts her number in your phone and hands it back to you. She kisses you once more and heads to the car.

"I'll see you tomorrow y/n."

"I'll see you tomorrow Rebecca."

She waves as the car pulls away and you watch it until it's out of sight. You look down at your phone and see her phone number and the contact name she put in for herself.

"Rebecca Welton💕"

You send her a text

I can't wait for tomorrow❤

You immediately get a response

Me either💕

You smile down at your phone and hold it close to your chest. You head back into the hotel and your phone starts ringing as you get into the suite. You look down and see that your friend is calling you.

"Hey!"

"YOU'RE ALIVE THANK GOD!"

"Yea, very much alive." You say with a laugh.

"Well I didn't hear from you for over 24 hours and I got worried that you died!"

You open your texts and realize you have 5 missed calls and 20+ text messages from her and a few other people.

"Where the hell were you?!" She asks.

"In heaven."

"Okay, you're gonna have to elaborate."

You tell her about your adventures with Rebecca and give her most of the details, there are definitely some you keep to yourself. You tell her that you're meeting Rebecca in London tomorrow and how excited you were.

"So honestly, it's a good thing you weren't able to come, because if you did, I probably would have never met her." You said.

"Is this the plot of some French rom-com you watched or did you actually just live in a Paris fairytale for the last two days?"

"Fairytale, for sure."

You talk to her for a while and your friend looks her up and freaks out when she reads about who she is.

"No, don't tell me anything, I want her to tell me when she's ready, I don't want to google her to learn about her."

"You're such a sap, but fine. But I will tell you, she's hot, and rich as fuck."

"Oh, I know, she spoiled the shit out of me. Honestly, even if she didn't have all of that money, I'd still be going to see her in London tomorrow."

"Are you in love with her already?"

"I know how fucking crazy this is going to sound, but yeah, I think I am."

You two continue to talk and catch up for the next hour, after you get off of the phone with her you text Rebecca your flight info and you go out to a little restaurant for dinner and walk around for a bit. You get back to the hotel and get ready for bed, impatiently waiting for tomorrow to come.

You phone dings and you roll over in bed and see that you have a text from Rebecca.

12 hours left, I miss you.

You smile and your heart does summersaults, you reply to her.

12 hours too long, I miss you too. I can't wait to see you. Goodnight Rebecca.

You put your phone down and try to fall asleep, excited for tomorrow to come so you can hold Rebecca in your arms again.