the envelope white out

My take on the “Neil dies in Baltimore” au:

Here’s a list of reasons why Andrew is considering death-by-FBI-agent-who-won’t-shut-up:

  1. Neil is dead.
  2. Neil obviously knew he was going to die, since he made sure to break his contract with Andrew.
  3. He didn’t catch the strain in Neil’s voice when he said “You were amazing” until later, when it was too late.
  4. Now that it’s too late, he can’t stop hearing it. That little waver, like it meant more than it was saying, which now he knows it was but he was too fucking dense to realize it.
  5. Even after the disappearance, even after hours of nothing and then the FBI call and Kevin’s stupid confession and stupid throat (which he fully intends to come back to crushing later), Neil was alive.
  6. But not long enough for them to reach the hospital.

And now here they are, in the hospital lobby, being talked down to by an idiot in a suit trying to make excuses for why the FBI needs his body.

“He is ours,” Dan growls. Actually growls. “You said his father is dead now, and his mother’s been dead for years, so that means we’re his closest family.”

But all Agent Dick dous is raise an eyebrow. “How do you know that Mary Wesninski is dead?” It has the clearly desired effect of shutting Dan up. There are a thousand innocent answers to that question, but they’re Foxes. Nobody ever gives them the benefit of the doubt.

“We need to conduct a full autopsy, get a clearer picture of what was done to him. We’ll hand him over to you post-cremation.”

Matt shakes his head. “Not good enough.”

“You all need to get this into your heads: Neil Josten isn’t real and never was. He was a halfway decent cover that, honestly, probably would’ve been passable if he hadn’t thrown caution to the wind time and again over the past year. He was playing a part, and now he’s dead, and those are the facts.”

Andrew is aware that they’re talking about a corpse, but that complete disregard for who Neil was makes him want to rip out the man’s throat. Anger colors his vision red, but it’s better this way. Because as soon as the red leaves, the gray will settle in, and it will never, ever go away.

“Here’s another fact,” Agent Dick continues. “People don’t spend months in close company of others without letting something slip. So I’m going to need all of you to come in and te—”

“That’s enough, Agent Browning,” a new voice calls to them. A second later, a woman appears next to the agent, towering over him by a good half a foot. “Say another word to them and I’ll personally make sure that anything they say becomes inadmissible in court.” She turns to the Foxes. “Hi, sorry, I’m Ms. Waters. I was — still is, technically — Nathaniel’s lawyer.”

Kevin’s face goes ashy, likely imagining the worst. “He was here for six hours before dying. Why the hell would he need a lawyer?”

Ms. Waters pulls out several small white envelopes by way of response. “Because he didn’t trust Agent Chucklehead over hear to not open these before you recieved them.” She hands each Fox their own envelope, with their name written on the front in Neil’s familiar scrawl. Wymack doesn’t get an envelope.

It makes Andrew’s chest ache and his heart boil, and he doesn’t trust himself to speak. He knows what’s inside that letter: a sequel and an epilogue. All of Neil’s bullshit sap wrapped in a promise that he’ll never have it again. He doesn’t even know wether he wants to read it or tear it into a million pieces. Probably both.

“—two requests,” it takes Andrew a second to register that Ms. Waters is talking again. “That you read your letters in private, and that you destroy them after reading. Preferably with fire.” She smiles at their confused stares and nods at Agent Dick. “Browning here is a man of many words, but he spends very few eandearing himself to others. Nathaniel was likely afraid that he would try to read them.

“In any case, I’ll be in touch soon. Nathaniel left a great deal behind, and while the FBI can scramble over his past, it’s my job to sort out his present, and that means you.” She gives Wymack a teal business card. “In case you need me urgently, in the case I don’t contact you first. Now run along, you were all injured and in need of rest.”

The bus ride back to Palmetto is silent, but nobody is asleep. Like Andrew, they all sit on their individual benches, staring at their letters, trying to decide wether they wan’t to know or not. Is it an explanation? Apology? Questions too big for the heart to ask or recieve an answer to.

In the end, it’s Nicky who breaks the silence. “I know he said to read them alone, but… anybody want to open their’s with me? I just. I can’t. Not alone. Not on this.”

There’s silence again, but then Renee comes to sit next to Nicky, and then Allison, and the next thing he knows he, Kevin, and Aaron are the only ones not crowded together in a massive group hug. There’s sniffling, then a countdown from three, and the sound of several envelopes tearing and pages unfolding. And then silence again.

And then.

And then.

Dan’s been captain of the Foxes for years, but Andrew doesn’t think he’s ever heard her yell that loudly as her ARE YOU SHITTING ME vibrates throughout the bus. The rest of the Foxes are quick to follow with their own sounds of anger and disbelief.

It’s when Nicky starts laughing hysterically that Andrew finally succumbs to his curiousity and opens the letter, skimming over the words.

Andrew is going to fucking kill that boy when he gets his hands on him.

anonymous asked:

Every month the Avengers get boxes of fan mail and it's their favorite day because it cheers everyone up and makes them forget about their stress. Well what do you think happens when Bucky gets his first fan mail? Cutest fluff

It was fanmail day. Every Avenger was gathered around the boxes with their names on top in black marker. Tony and Steve had the biggest, Nat was close behind with all the letters of little girls claiming her as their new hero. Everyone was chattering and laughing, showing eachother letters and presents. 

Bucky sat off to the side, pretending to read a book. He could have just left but he wanted to be a team player. He was new, maybe people didn’t really know him yet at least that’s what he told himself  when he still didn’t get any fanmail. Though his mind screamed that maybe they still thought he was a monster. It was Wanda who approached him and pulled him out of his dark thoughts. A single white envelope was in her hands and she handed it to Bucky without words, a soft smile on her face. 

Bucky put his book aside, holding the envelope gingerly in his hands. No one paid him any mind as he examined the messy scrawl on the front. Sergeant Barnes. His heart was racing as his metal finger glided easily under the sticky paper to open the envelope. He pulled out the contents, a single sheet of paper. He unfolded it and felt tears start to well in his eyes as he looked at the drawing. Bucky was standing holding the hand of a little boy in a park. The colours were bright, the crayon marks stark against the white of the paper. 

“You’re my hero” it read in the corner, and Bucky had to leave the room. He held it carefully in his hand as if it was made of glass rather paper. He stuck it in his journal straight away, ready to look at before every mission from then on. 

Fluffy Friday™

The Video

Note: yikes, what a title, lmao. I hope you’re all doing well! so, this isn’t entirely how it went in the movie, but I hope you enjoy it, anon! thank you for the request! comments and feedback are more than welcome! I appreciate hearing back from you guys.  ❤️

Request: hey :) could you write an angsty one shot where the reader sees videos of bucky being tortured by hydra and later brings it up to him that *you* saw them? thank you <3

Originally posted by sxy-seabass

You were just finishing up writing a mission report late at night-given you arrived an hour prior from said mission-, in extreme detail since Nick was upset that you left out what weapon you used to kill a guard last time. He was surprised when you held up your dominate hand with a shrug. So, if he wanted details, he was gonna get them. As you typed away, Tony was to your left, sorting through old files. He was moving them into the new safe Nick had brought in, when he let out a rather loud and long yawn.

A smirk formed on your lips as you looked up from your laptop. Tony was sitting in a swivel chair, stacking old manila file folders on the ground. “It’s not even ten-thirty, and you’re already tired?” You shook your head, mocking him. Nick wanted him to sit the mission out and do this for him instead. 

He scoffed and glared at you, sighing heavily. “I’ve been moving these files all day long! And he wanted to organize them by year, and some of them aren’t even dated!” He complained, groaning in frustration.

You tapped your thumbs against your laptop as you thought to yourself. You were nearly finished with your report and Tony did look tired. Pursing your lips, you turned to look back at Tony. “I’m almost done here, why don’t I finish that up?” You offered with a small smile. Tony whipped around to face you with a shocked expression. “Who are you and what have you done to Y/N?” He asked with caution, crossing his arms.

Your eyes nearly rolled out of their sockets. “You have ten seconds flat to leave the room or I withdraw my offer.” You began typing on your laptop again, laughing softly to yourself when you heard his shoes squeak against the floor, his speedy steps echoing as he ran out of the room.

After half an hour later of typing your mission report, you sent it in an email to Nick. You sighed and cracked your knuckles, stretching your arms above your head. Your body was sore from the mission and your eyes had grown tired, but you told Tony you’d finish the files. 

Walking over to the stack he left on the ground, you picked them up and brought them over, tossing them down onto the table. A white square envelope slid out of the top folder, a shiny disc catching your eye. Your eyebrows creased with confusion and you grabbed it, flipping it around to look for a name or any piece of information that told you what was on here. You opened the envelope, only to find that the disc was plain, too.

You were always a curious person. Almost everyone in the tower had trouble with accepting that, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. It was in your personality to be curious. And that’s why you sat down in your chair and slid the disc into your laptop.

Biting your lip, your cursor hovered over the play button. What if this was something bad, something terribly horrid, something you’d never be able to un-see. You’d dream of it, think of it, and have so many questions. Or what if it was the long-lost embarrassing drunken karaoke video of Sam and Tony at Bucky’s birthday party?

You quickly pressed play and sat back, anxiously waiting for it to start. 

You realized that this was not the latter as you saw darkness, The camera shook a little bit as it showed a brightly lit room - or rather a lab of sorts. Suddenly voices started coming into the room. 

One by one, a group of men came into frame. Men with lab coats. Your stomach churned and your fingers shook as you heard Bucky’s voice. “Stop! Don’t do this! I knew him!” The camera was shakily aimed at him and you could see him struggling against them. They were dragging him towards a large chair and shoved him down. You knew you needed to stop watching. But you couldn’t look away. Not now.

Bucky had a thousand yard stare, as if everything about him and his life was rushing back and he knew he’d lose it soon. A few seconds later, he was out of control and shoving a guard away from him; he was angry and unstable. You looked away and bit your trembling lip as your finger hovered over the power button, but when you heard more footsteps, you willed yourself to look again.

“Mission report.”

Alexander Pierce was there, leaning down in front of Bucky, his hand whipping out to slap Bucky in the face. The camera had a muffled sound from the person shaking so much. You figured this wasn’t actually supposed to be filmed, or it was and the person was extremely afraid to be around Bucky, or in this case, The Winter Soldier.

Your eyes filled with tears as you watched Bucky look at Pierce. He looked hopeless, he was tired and you could see a spark of fear behind his eyes as he spoke. “But I knew him.” His eyes held so much emotion, something you didn’t see when he first arrived at the tower. It took him a few months to even come out of his room when everyone else was awake. After that, it took a year to get him back to as normal as he could be, given everything that happened.

One more year, and you two were happily together. You both had grown close to each other, you helped him with his nightmares and he always stitched you up, both of you taking bullets for each other. Though the two of you were unstoppable on the field, working together like it was meant to be.

“Wipe him.” 

Those words brought you out of your thoughts and your breath picked up as you watched two men push Bucky’s back against the chair, his hair framing his face. You realized your were gripping the edge of the table when your hand started to hurt from the pressure. Tears filled your eyes as you watched them stick a mouth guard in front of him. He accepted it; he knew he wouldn’t be able to fight back.

The machine came to life and his chair leaned backwards, the electric headpiece coming around towards Bucky’s head. It fired up and you saw his chest rise and fall before he started to scream, the machine shocking him. A sob escaped your lips and your hand flew up, covering your mouth as you cried into it. He continued to scream, his voice breaking and the sound of his metal arm fighting against the restraints shot right through you.

You slammed the laptop shut and squeezed your eyes tightly, but all you could see was Bucky’s face behind your lids. You’d only heard bits and pieces about Bucky’s life with Hydra. 

Now that you’ve seen it with your own eyes, it was something you’d never want to see again.

Two weeks have passed since you watched Bucky’s torture video. You’ve become silent almost, timid around anyone. Telling Bucky about watching the video wasn’t something you wanted to bring up. But you knew he could tell that something was wrong. 

He watched you from the door, your fingers typing on your laptop as you wrote out another mission report. It’s taken you longer than usual because you kept thinking about the video. You noticed you were typing out the details from said video instead of the mission you and the team went on, and you groaned, backspacing two sentences.

“Y/N, you need to rest.” Bucky’s voice startled you and you looked up from your screen. You swallowed nervously and let out a shaky breath. “I need to finish the miss-an email.” ‘Mission report’ suddenly sounded like a terrible set of words to use, despite Bucky’s mind being cleared for the most part.

Bucky sighed and walked into the room. He stood behind you and let his hands rest on your shoulders. You melted into his touch and your lip trembled when you felt the coolness on your left shoulder. Everything you’ve been holding in finally came out. “Bucky..” Your voice broke and you tried to hold back your sobs, but it was useless. He quickly turned your chair to the side and bent down onto his knees in front of you.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” His eyebrows creased with worry and his hands grasped your cheeks. You couldn’t form the words, you could only cry. Bucky felt his throat tighten at seeing you like this, your eyes filled with tears and the hiccups coming from your throat. 

He wiped your tears as they fell, giving you time to catch your breath before speaking again. “Y/N, are you okay?” He asked softly, moving his hand to yours, caressing your skin with his thumb. You sniffled and took a deep breath, huffing it out as you let your eyes fall to his metal hand in yours. You weren’t scared, you weren’t angry; just seeing him like that broke your heart.

“I need to tell you something, but I don’t want you to be mad at me.” You sobbed again and Bucky stood to his feet, picking you up out of the chair bridal style, so he could sit in with you in his lap. He shushed you softly, cradling your head on his shoulder. “Doll, you’re makin’ me nervous. Please, tell me.” He pleaded softly, looking down at you. 

Wiping your cheeks, you took another breath. “I watched a video.” You whispered quietly, hoping he missed it. But he heard you clearly and his heart jumped in his chest. He knows exactly what video you’re talking about.

He was silent as he gathered his thoughts. Your heart sank as the minutes ticked by without a word from him. Right when you opened your mouth, he did the same, only he could use his voice. “I’m not mad at you, Doll. I wish you hadn’t seen me like that, though.” He held you closer, pressing his lips to your head.

You sat up in his lap and looked into his eyes. The looked sad and he had light circles underneath them. Your hand rested on his cheek and you caressed it. “You’ve come a long way, I know that. But seeing it, it broke my heart all over again, Bucky.” Your lip trembled and Bucky reached up to rub it with his thumb. 

“Hey,” He met your eyes and leaned in to press his lips to yours. The kiss was short but sweet. “It won’t happen again; I’m confident about that now. I have such an amazing team and girlfriend that will make sure of it.” Bucky let his metal hand cradle your cheek. Even touching you with it was proof that he’s one hundred percent sure he’s okay. 

You smiled sadly at him. You sighed and played with your thumbs for a few moments. “I was hoping it was that embarrassing video of Sam and  Tony, singing horribly at karaoke night on your birthday.” You admitted bashfully. Bucky suddenly laughed, which caused your heart to soar at the sound.

Bucky’s laughs calmed and he stood up with you in his arms still, leading you out of the room. You let your head rest against his chest. “Where are we going?” You asked softly, playing with the ends of his hair. “Always so curious.” He chuckled deeply, the action causing his chest to vibrate against your side.

“Well?” You looked up at him, raising your eyebrows expectantly. He stepped into the elevator and a smirk formed on his lips.

“To watch that exact video.”

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Murder at Stark Manor: Peter Parker X Reader

PART 1 of2

Midtown High Students have come to participate in Liz’s live action role play. The reader wants to confess her feelings for Peter but knows about his crush on Liz. No one actually dies, it’s ok :)

Word Count: 1.8k (OMG I’M SORRY T.T)

Peter Parker x Reader

Based on the board game Clue

Originally posted by she-is-beautifully-broken

It was the middle of the beautiful month of April, and around this time a grand party was about to be announced by the popular Liz Toomes. It was an annual gathering, only certain students were invited to partake in this year’s party. For it would be a party to die for.

“What do you think her party theme is this year?” Y/F/N Y/L/N asked her best friend as they walked through the crowded halls of Midtown High. Peter Parker looked down at her and shrugged, reaching his locker. Y/N picked at her army green sweater as she leaned against the locker next to Peter’s.  She took a moment to admire the spider boy, he was perfect, his hair, his body, even his fingers as they graced the lock.

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anonymous asked:

ooh, if you're accepted requests! after last week's episode, I kept wondering to myself how bughead would be in a long distance relationship? with him in toldedo and her still in riverdale. I imagine they would last pretty long. lol. could you write something on that? I'm curious to how you would picture it!


Jughead sighed heavily, dropping his bag to the floor and kicking one of Jellybeans endless pairs of converse across the room, she may be a tomboy but the ten year old could never have enough shoes. Today had been a particularly brutal day at school for the beanie wearing boy, after being tossed around by the football team he was left with a bruise on his cheek and a serious appreciation for Reggie Mantle, atleast the airhead jock didn’t beat him up on a regular basis.

Throwing himself on his bed and grabbing his laptop he said a quick Thankyou to whatever God was up there, Betty was online and her Skype name was blinking. Jughead clicked on the green telephone and adjusted himself so he was as close to the screen as possible, suddenly dark green eyes and dimples graced his laptop and he instantly found himself relaxing.

“Hey there Juliet” he mumbled, the smile breaking free on his face as he saw her own eyes light up.

“Juggie” she said softly, eyes scanning his face and Landing instantly on the purple bruise forming quickly “what is that!” Her fingers reached out to the screen, desperately trying to touch his pain, make it better.

“It’s nothing.” He said quickly, his own fingers reaching out almost as if there weren’t hours between them.

Betty shook her head vehemently
“It’s not nothing! Someone hit you! Someone hit my boyfriend!” Her eyes lit up and he saw the raw determination pass over her.

“Bets.. it was just a couple of idiot jocks, it’s really not worth my time. I wanna talk about you, how was cheerleading?” He quickly changed the subject, leaning closer and memorizing every freckle, every beauty mark.

She sighed again before launching into a story about how Cheryl had fallen when Ginger bent down to tie her shoe in the middle of a lift, suddenly she was cut off by the familiar high pitched giggle from outside her window
“That’s Ronnie, her, Archie and I are heading to Pops. Burgers and shake night, it’s a new thing he’s doing, buy a burger get a free shake.” She rolled her eyes at the silly town she lived in as Jughead felt the familiar ache in his chest. he was homesick. He was Betty sick.

“Come on Bets! You know vanilla goes fast and we all know my beautiful yet fiery girlfriend always takes the last one!” Archie called from below her window, slinging an arm around Veronica and kissing her cheek.

Betty laughed out her window and looked back at the screen with sad eyes
“I have to go.” She whispered.

“I know.” He answered.

She sighed again and rested her chin in her palm
“I wish you were here” she said wistfully

“I know” he said again, laying his palm flat on the screen as she did the same

“Text me?” Betty asked softly.


Just as he was about to hit the end button Betty spoke again

“Don’t forget to check your mail today Romeo.” She winked and ended the call.

He practically ran towards the mailbox, tripping over his feet and ignoring his mother calling his name. Sure enough sticking out of the mailbox was a white envelope with Betty’s distinct girly handwriting. He tore into it with a smile, taking in the faint scent of her vanilla and peach perfume. They had been doing this ever since Jughead had moved to Toledo five months ago, they would write letters to one another, silly letters with poems and drawing, blurbs about how they were feeling, sentences for a novel they claimed they would string together one day. It was so old fashioned, so lame, yet so very Betty and Jughead.

“Even if I saw you only once
I would long for you for worlds,
Worlds and worlds”

Her neatly swirled cursive stuck out against the doodles she had drawn and he felt something wet drip onto his hand. Putting his fingers to his face he realized he was crying.

He held the letter to his chest when the soft fingers of his mother rested on his shoulder

“You love her.” She said simply.

He couldn’t do anything but nod. His mother wiped her hands on her apron and shook her head

“Okay then, you’ll leave next week.” She said firmly.

Jughead turned to look at her with wide eyes,
“Leave where? I can’t leave. This is my family.” He said beaten.

“Yes it is, but that.” She pointed to the letter in his hands “that is your home. I’ve found a job in Riverdale. Your father wasn’t happy about it, but I’ve seen how miserable you are here. I don’t want that for you, I want you to be happy. And that beautiful young woman is who makes you happy. Face it, Jellybean is flunking out of fourth grade, maybe a change of scenery will do her some good. Plus, it might be nice to catch up with Alice Cooper, she was always so lovely to me.” His mother said with a wistful smile.“you’ll stay with the Andrews until your father can find us a place but it shouldn’t take too long, I’ve been on google.” Jughead laughed heartily as his mother proudly smiled.

“We’ll be with you soon enough, but as of now? You need to go home.”

Jughead lunged at his mother, wrapping his arms around her neck and burying his face in her chest “Thankyou” he whispered as she rubbed his back.

A week later Jughead stood outside of Riverdale high, his hands shoved into his pockets as he waited for his girlfriend to exit the building. Soon enough, the familiar blonde ponytail was coming towards him, her eyes focused on something he couldn’t see.

“Hey Juliet.” He called towards her, a genuine smile lighting up his face. Betty’s eyes whipped to his before she was standing there slack jawed and wide eyed

“Juggie?” She whispered.

“In the flesh” he called out, reaching his arms out.

Betty dropped her book bag and ran towards her boyfriend, jumping into his arms and almost knocking him to the ground, her lips attacking his as her tears wet his face (it definitely wasn’t a mixture of both of their tears, he had allergies, it was the pollen. god)

“What are you doing here?!” She asked, her smile so big he was afraid she would break

“This whole long distance relationship? It wasn’t working for me.” He shrugged, his hands squeezing her waist sincerely.

“You’re staying?” She whispered.

“I’m staying”

Betty threw her arms around Jugheads neck and squeezed him.

Sure he loved his family, and they were some of the most important people to him, but right here? Right now?

He was finally home.

Mated // Werewolf Shawn

Part 1

Summary: You and Shawn are mates. He’s an alpha werewolf. You’re a human. Also…you have a boyfriend already. What happens when a werewolf is rejected by his mate?

Welcome to Mayfair, population 355. Where the weather is always fairly nice and the people are friendly. Oh and most of the town is made up a werewolves.

That’s right, Mayfair is a pack town. While primarily the residents are werewolves, there are a few humans. Pack towns were becoming gradually more popular across north america although the concept dated back to the late 1800’s in Europe when entire villages would be nothing but werewolves masquerading as humans.

Nowadays werewolves are common place and though there are still people who absolutely detest them, it’s become the usual to pass a werewolf on the street everyday. Not that you could really tell the difference between most werewolves and humans. Most often the differences were subtle and overlooked by a person who did not live among them day to day.

Growing up in Mayfair was a little different then growing up in any regular town. Of course you had school, sports, movie nights and everything else kids did throughout their youth. But there were a few things about your childhood that you didn’t know didn’t happen to other kids in other towns.

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Letters To You (Park Woojin Oneshot)

Originally posted by areumdaun-daun-daun

Genre: High school AU, secret admirer AU, angst.

Summary: The closer I get to you, the farther we become.

A Meowment Like This (Kang Daniel College AU)

     “Another one?” Your friend exclaimed, pointing to a small white envelope peeking out of the top of the math book on your desk. “How long has he been at this? Almost four months now? Why doesn’t he just confess already.”

     Grinning to yourself, you sat back at your desk after returning from lunch break and pulled the envelope out of the textbook. On the front, with the usual handwriting, the words ‘To Y/N.’ were jotted down.

     “He’s probably not ready, it’s okay.” You shrugged at your friend, slipping the envelope into your uniform pocket to read later in private without her snooping its contents.

     “What do you mean it’s okay? The romance and excitement is gonna wear off at some point.” She muttered, leaning on the edge of her desk next to you.

     “I mean, that when he feels comfortable, he’ll reveal himself. I don’t mind waiting.”

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Yes Sir Part 10

Part 10: Acceptance

Professor Winchester and his girl grown impatient with the wait to reveal their secret.

Series Masterlist 

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit smut including oral/69. The usual- cursing, dirty talk, alcohol. Lots of fluff. Angst. Jealousy. WC: 6340 On AO3

A/N: Damn you Jeffrey & your ig videos ;) I love writing this so damn much. Thanks for being here with me, the readers of this series are the greatest ever. You all make me want to write more. Thanks for all the love. Enjoy!

My grocery bags slumped against the mailbox bank in my apartment building’s lobby as I turned the small brass key and opened my mail slot. After shuffling through junk mail, a thick white envelope fell out of a grocery flyer. My eyes widened as I read the law school’s return address stamp at the top. I ripped the envelope open right there in the hall, squealing when I read the first few lines.

“Good news?” My neighbor asked as I tucked the envelope into my purse.

“Great news!” I replied, not bothering to take my purchases upstairs as I left the building, carrying my sweating bags back to the car.

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Undeniable Heat Chapter 22: Letters

Jensen Ackles x Reader

1400 Words

Story Summary: You’ve just gotten a job as one of the makeup artists on the set of Supernatural. Nervous on the first day, you become completely awkward, winning the affection of the divorced Jensen Ackles. You try to fight your desire for him, but he thwarts you at every turn. Will you be able you separate work and play, or will you let Jensen win?

Catch Up Here: Masterpost

Your P.O.V.

It was the sound of voices that pulled you from your deep sleep. At first you thought it might be Jensen, since he promised to be there with you. But when your eyes fluttered open, you noticed Misha there instead, talking to quietly to a nurse. Immediately he noticed you were wake, a smile crinkling his eyes. “There you are! I was afraid you would sleep the entire time I was here!” He said, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him.

After the nurse check you over, announcing that you were healing quite nicely, she left you alone with Misha. “Jensen?” You asked him, your throat still tender and sore.

Keep reading

Chibs’ Birthday

A @samperv challenge: Its Chibs’ birthday.

“Good morning handsome,” you smiled as you walked into the bedroom you shared with your old man. He stretched, groaning as he sat up and smiled at you.

“G’mornin’ love,” Chibs mumbled back to you, pulling you down onto the bed with him and kissing you, “You know what today is…” he trailed off, his hands wrapping around your back and dipping into your pajama bottoms.

“Mhmm,” you cooed, sitting up, “but I have something else for you, something better,” you grinned.

Chibs’ eyebrows raised, “I dunno if there’s anything better than this,” he spoke, patting your butt, causing you to chuckle.

“Just get dressed and meet me downstairs, birthday boy,” you winked, getting up from the bed and walking out of the room.

You had a big day planned for your old man; a scavenger hunt that went all around Charming and ended with his birthday gift, something you’d been saving up for since you got married to the Scotsman three and a half years ago. Quietly, you stuck the envelope with the first clue on the front door and snuck out to your car, quietly backing out of the driveway and heading to TM where you would patiently wait until Filip ended his hunt.

“Love, I’m thinking of calling Tig and having him handle things today so we can stay home and…” Chibs paused as he reached the bottom of the stairs, not seeing you in the living room or kitchen, “…(Y/N)?” he called but received no response. He called to you one more time before he walked past the front door, noticing the envelope taped to it and he smirked, pulling it off and opening it to reveal a short letter you had typed for him.

Happy Birthday, sweetie!
I have a big surprise for you today! But first, I need you to stop by the place we first met and pick up another envelope. Love you!

“Shite,” Chibs breathed, “It must be a good gift if she’s testing me,” he chuckled, grabbing his wallet and keys off the counter and heading out the door.
First stop, the Diner on Main Street.

Chibs backed his bike against the curb and stepped off his bike, pulling his helmet off and setting it on the seat. He slicked his hair back with both hands and eyed the storefront before him.

“Mornin’,” a voice pulled Chibs’ gaze away from the restaurant and he turned to see one of the waitresses approaching him, “(Y/N) said you’d be coming by this morning and asked me to give you this,” she shrugged, holding out a white envelope for him to take.

“Thanks, darlin’,” Chibs winked, grasping the clue as the small woman turned to walk back inside.

Chibs pulled the letter out and read it.

You got the first clue! Only a few more before you get your gift…
The next place I need you to go is where we went after the diner closed on the first night we met.
Have fun, babe!

Chibs stuck the clue in his vest and mounted his bike. He knew where the next clue was.

“Man I was wondering how long it was gonna take you to get here,” Tig smirked as he met Chibs in his driveway.

“Aye, the lass is testing my memory. She sent me to the diner because its where we first met, now here to your house because we came back here after the diner with you and Venus that night,” Chibs held his hand out to Tig, waiting for the envelope. Tig placed it, torn open, in his brother’s palm and Chibs looked at him with his eyebrows furrowed.

“I got curious, man. She wouldn’t tell me what it said so I looked. I couldn’t help myself,” Tig chuckled, “And if you don’t know where to go next, I can help ya.”
Chibs huffed shaking his head in mock-disgust, “Thanks Tiggy.”

“You bet brother.”

Chibs walked back to his bike and sat on the seat to read the clue.

If my guess is correct, you’ll be the second person to read this clue. I know Tig won’t be able to resist reading it. I guess I can’t be too upset with him, if it wasn’t for him and my best friend, Venus, I would’ve never met you!
The last clue is where the spent the night after our first date.
You’re so close!

“Jesus Christ,” Chibs groaned, “Really, (Y/N)?” he muttered to himself as he shoved the paper in his vest and started his bike.

He never really had a reason to come here, unless he was being forced of course, but leave it to his wife to make him go to the police station as part of his birthday.

“Hey Filip,” Deputy Eglee smiled as he stepped in the front door.
“Good morning, officer,” Chibs forced a smile as he approached her, “You wouldn’t happen to have something for me from (Y/N), would you?”

“Actually, I don’t, but I think I overheard Lyla Winston in the waiting area saying she was expecting you to come by” she smiled, patting him on the arm, “Have a good day.”
“You too,” he spoke as he approached the waiting room to see Lyla sitting there.

“Hey!” Lyla beamed as he walked up. She stood, giving him a firm hug and patting his back, “Happy Birthday,” she whispered.
“Thanks sweetheart,” he responded, stepping back and looking at her, “I assume ye have something for me?” he asked.

“I sure do!” she pulled an envelope from her purse and handed it over to him, “I’ll see you later,” she smiled sweetly as he nodded to her and they both walked out of the police station.


Who would’ve thought that having sex outside the clubhouse after our first date was illegal? Haha…
If I’m honest, I think Althea just hated seeing us together. That’s probably why we spent the night in the drunk tank. Those were good times…

Alright I think you’re ready for your gift, love. 
It’s waiting for you where we got married!

See you soon

Chibs chuckled as he pulled up at the clubhouse. Lyla had managed to beat him somehow, crossing the parking lot in front of him as he backed his bike up to park.

He stepped into the clubhouse to find all his brothers, their women, and his woman, waiting for him.

“Happy Birthday!” everyone shouted as he walked inside.

You were smiling from ear to ear when you stepped forward, flinging your arms around him and pulling him into a hug.

“Hey darlin’,” he mumbled as he pressed his lips against your ear, kissing you there before pulling you back and placing a gentle kiss on your lips, “You sent your Old Man all over Charming this morning,” he smiled, holding your waist.

You flashed a huge smile as you nodded, “I sure did, but I think you’ll say it was definitely worth it in just a minute.”

Happy stepped forward handing him a beer as you took his hand and pulled him back out of the clubhouse door and towards the garage.

“My gift is in the garage?” he asked as everyone walked towards one of the four large bay doors.

You smiled sweetly as you stopped, releasing his hand, “Wait here,” you ordered, walking forward and knocking on the garage door before returning to his side.

“Love, what are you–?” he began asking, but his question was cut short when the door started rolling up and his attention focused back in front of him. When it was fully opened, one of the TM  mechanics stepped aside to reveal his present, and Chibs’ draw dropped.

Inside the garage was a brand new bike.

A 2016 Dyna Wide Glide with wrapped exhaust, SoA decals on the tank, and a custom hand-tooled leather seat with the St. Andrew’s cross stitched in.

“Holy shite, (Y/N).” he gasped.

“Do you like it?” you asked, beaming up at him as he stared at you in awe.

“Like it? I love it, baby!” He pulled you to him and kissed you deeply, amongst a chorus of hoops and hollers from his friends, “Thank you, (Y/N).” He spoke sincerely.

“Come on! Test out the new ride!” Tig yelled, and the rest of the party agreed, clapping and cheering. 

“What do ya say, love? Wanna test it out with me?” Chibs grinned, squeezing your hand.
“You bet I do!” You chuckled, following him to his new bike.

I’m Here » Minhyun X Reader

Characters: Hwang Minhyun X Reader

Word Count: 837

Summary: After seven years of being pen pals, you finally decide to take your graduation trip to South Korea to explore the country, self reflect, and meet your penpal in person.

*Didn’t really proof read and may contain terrible grammatical / sentence structure errors LMAO 

The flicker sounds of the cameras were only getting louder. There you were, sitting in seat number 50 and continued to glance over at Hwang Minhyun who was a part of the hottest idol group in South Korea, Wanna One. Your heart was beating rapidly as you watched him interact with other Wannables during the fan sign. It was a rather small and intimate meeting, which only made you feel more nervous. With the extreme luck of being chosen for the fan sign, you were finally able to meet your penpal after seven years of communicating only through a piece of paper and pen.

You took out the white envelope an hour before while riding in the taxi to get to the venue. The thought of finally being able to meet Minhyun after writing to each other for the past seven years was actually going to happen. The both of you were part of a special bridge program back in high school that allowed people to connect all over the world and become writing pen pals through the language course the student decided to take to fulfill their mandatory graduating requirement. As you were from the United States, you were quite interested in the Korean culture and music, and through a random selection, the respective schools through the program would pair you up with another individual with a personality test and interest sheet.

Many pen pal pairs would have cut off all communication years back, but 2017 marked the seventh year of communicating with Minhyun. You always refused to share your SNS accounts and the only thing Minhyun really knew about was your first and last name, the high school and college you went to, age, and the address (aka your parents) that he was receiving your letters from. You made all of your accounts private. You never posted any profile pictures online and kept it that way due to personal preference and hence, only you knew how he looked like and was well aware of how handsome he was through YouTube videos and pictures. He respected your privacy and eventually stopped asking after so many tries.

Letter #571

Hey there (Y/N),

Sorry for the late response. I hope you understand and that I’ll always make sure to write back eventually. By the time you get this, we’ve probably wrapped up promotions and I’m very happy to hear that you enjoyed the album! I honestly don’t have any life updates besides losing a lot of sleep and becoming 10x busier. Also, congrats on graduating! Wish I could have flown over to finally meet you and to see you walk to get your diploma. Hope you’re getting job call backs and make sure to let me know if you’ve accepted any offers! Take care of yourself and stop getting sick so often. Write back soon!

Your favorite,
Hwang Minhyun

So why were you in South Korea? Your parents gifted you the opportunity to travel and you decided to go on this trip by yourself since you had a good grasp of the language (bless for paying attention in high school). You wanted to explore the country, self-reflect and find a way to meet your friend after so many letter exchanges. How were you going to do it? Bulk buy Wanna One’s album and pray that you get into a fan meeting.

And that’s exactly what happened. Luck came onto your side and there you were, sitting inside Wanna One’s fan sign wondering what Minhyun’s reaction would be after appearing before him so abruptly.

“Number 45-50, please come up and be on standby.”

You began to move through the members one by one. Each member was extremely sweet and rather than acting overly excited, you casually had a calm and good chat about your day and that you were an international fan. “Thank you so much. Hopefully, I’ll be able to see you guys soon, Jinyoung!” And here we go.

He pulled the album over and waited for you to take the seat in front of him. Your heart was pounding so rapidly, you barely had the courage to look into his eyes. You slipped your hand into your purse and pulled out a letter that was a response to his he wrote two weeks ago.

“Hi there. What’s your name?” “(Y/N). It’s n-nice to meet you, Minhyun. I’m a huge fan.” His eyes widened slightly before smiling and began to sign your album. “Ah, that’s a really pretty name. Are you from Korea?” He peered up again before going back to signing his name. “Ah no. I’m from the USA. Los Angeles to be exact.”

That’s when Minhyun completely stopped what he was doing and peered up to take a good look at you. You couldn’t help but smile at his flustered face and proceeded to place your response letter in front of him. “I wanted to hand this to you personally. I’m here, Min.”

intpthinkinginquiet  asked:

Howdy! Drabble #25 Mycroft x Reader please.

25. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”


“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Mycroft said as he opened the door to 221B Baker street.

“Which part?” you asked, stepping into the darkened foyer. “The pregnancy or the telling your brother and John and Mrs. Hudson at the same time?”

“The latter, of course,” Mycroft said, pressing a small kiss to your hand. The two of you stepped up to Sherlock’s flat, finding the door opened. Sherlock’s voice could be heard, chastising John for some ‘idiotic’ suggestion he’d made.

Mrs. Hudson nearly ran into you as she exited with her tea tray. “Oh! Mycroft, Y/N. I wasn’t expecting you. Would you like some tea?”

“No, thank you, Mrs. Hudson,” Mycroft said. “But please, step back into my brother’s apartment.”

“Why?” Mrs. Hudson asked, doing as requested.

Sherlock and John looked up as the three of you stepped into the living room.

“What’s all this?” John asked.

“Y/N wanted to bring something around for you all,” Mycroft said as you handed the envelopes out.

John examined the envelope. “Any guesses as to what this is, Sherlock?”

Sherlock studied you and Mycroft for a moment before shaking his head, his lips pursed.

“Go on,” you encouraged. “Open them.”

John and Mrs. Hudson opened the envelopes, taking out the small black and white photos. Sherlock merely stared at the two of you, his crystal eyes sparkling.

“Oh!” Mrs. Hudson said, a huge smile on her face.

“A baby?” John said, looking up at you and Mycroft.

“What wonderful news!” Mrs. Hudson said, immediately wrapping her arms around you. “Oh, how are you feeling, dear? Are you having any sickness?”

“I’m fine, Mrs. Hudson. Thank you.”

“You’re… what? Eight weeks?” John asked, studying the picture.

“Nearly ten,” Sherlock said.

“How do you know that?” John asked.

“I’ve known for quite a while now,” Sherlock said. “Y/N gave it away without realizing it.”

“And you didn’t say anything?” Mycroft said. “What a surprise indeed.”

The corner of Sherlock’s mouth twitched. “For whatever reason, I knew this would be important to Y/N. I didn’t want to steal the moment from her.”

Everyone was shocked into silence as you stepped over to Sherlock, giving him a small hug.

“You’re going to make a great uncle,” you whispered.

“And you, a wonderful mother.”


Drabble Games! Send me a number and a character :)

anonymous asked:

B 59

Bechloe - ‘Fall’

Chloe Beale strode down the stone steps outside the Literature Department on campus, her long red hair bouncing with each step she took, as she walked away from her final lecture of the day. The weather was beginning to dip in temperature now the year was well into Fall, but the sun still shone strongly.

She made her way along the quad, eager to get home to the Bellas house that she and Aubrey rattled about in to get ready for rehearsals. It was their senior year and last year they HAD been the youngest members of The Barden Bellas, until the senior members graduated over summer. Now they were the eldest, and had just recruited a new bunch of freshmen to help take them through to the finals of the ICCA’s.

Chloe was a firm believer that while the freshmen they’d recruited were good, none of them compared to the talent that was Beca Mitchell. The Bella that she’d proudly recruited herself. The Bella she was actually crushing on. Badly.

Like, all her thoughts were of Beca. Most of her conversations were about Beca. And she found herself looking at Beca whenever possible. And in Chloe’s heart of hearts she knew that there was no chance in hell Beca was ever going to reciprocate those feelings.

So in the few weeks since ‘acapella hood night’ Chloe had been happy to go about her life as usual, save for all her thoughts being on Beca, and continue reassuring Aubrey that they were going to be 'aca-awesome’.

Chloe stopped in her tracks, a smile growing on her face as her bright blue eyes caught the figure of a petite brunette that she was gradually becoming familiar with. She checked her watch. She had about twenty minutes to spare. Twenty minutes well spent if it meant she could spend it with the girl who currently sat in the quad, leant back against a tree, her laptop on her thighs, her headphones over her ears.

The redhead felt butterflies begin to scatter around her stomach as she approached Beca - a reaction her body normally made when she was eagerly anticipating the moment she would be reunited with the freshman. As she arrived at Beca’s side, she reached down and pulled the headphones off the young woman’s head with a cheeky giggle.

Beca’s reaction was as expected. She threw her hands up in a karate-chop motion, swearing loudly followed by a “What the hell?!”

As Beca looked up at Chloe furiously the redhead bit her bottom lip before letting out a sweet “oops!”. If it had been anybody else, Beca Mitchell would’ve yelled, packed her things up, and stormed off. But her expression changed from one that was angry to one that was simply unimpressed, and she simply muttered a “hmm” before returning her focus on her laptop, frantically saving all her mixes.

Chloe plopped herself down on the patch of grass beside Beca, nudging the brunette with her elbow. She didn’t care what the woman had said to her multiple times over the past few weeks, Chloe wasn’t one to keep her physical distance from someone just because they said they found it awkward. Besides, Chloe had a plan to work on Beca: by the time the senior graduated at the end of the school year she would be receiving hugs from the freshman left-right-and-centre.

“Looking forward to tonight’s rehearsal?” Chloe asked enthusiastically and Beca snorted.

“With the first hour being cardio? Not likely!” The freshman grumbled. But Chloe merely giggled, nudging her again.

“Oh come ooooon. You get to spend two hours with me-ee?” She said optimistically, her heart skipping a beat momentarily as a pair of dark blue eyes met hers and to her delight Beca tried to suppress a grin.

“Gee, great.” The younger woman said sarcastically, and Chloe rolled her eyes which elicited a chuckle from Beca, “I’m kidding. I like rehearsals with you…” Chloe’s bright blue eyes widened and flashed across Beca’s face, noticing the way her new friend’s cheeks flushed, Beca’s smile dropping slightly as she realised what she’d said, “I mean…uh…it doesn’t matter…”

And as Beca quickly looked back down at her laptop, grimacing slightly at how uncool she was sounding, Chloe reached out and placed the palm of her hand on the back of Beca’s hand, giving it a little reassuring squeeze.

“Hey…” the redhead whispered, her voice a little more serious, and Beca must’ve noted it because she turned to look back at her, “…I like rehearsals with you too.”

Chloe and Beca smiled at one another, but the moment was short-lived when Jesse approached them, “Bellaaaaas!” He sang out at them, and Chloe immediately retracted her hand, clearing her throat nervously. Because it was no secret among the Bellas and among the Trebles that Jesse Swanson had a thing for Beca Mitchell.

The young man took a perch the other side of Beca, slinging his rucksack on the ground beside Beca’s, and grinning at them both. Chloe didn’t notice Beca’s exhale of frustration as Jesse exclaimed how perfect the weather was today - as though it was from a movie. She was too busy fiddling with a large brown leaf that had fallen into her lap.

Chloe glanced at her watch. Well there went her chance of a full twenty minutes alone with Beca. She let out a little sigh and smiled at the two beside her.

“Well I’d better go. Aubrey will be stressing about what cardio routine to do…Uh…don’t tell her I said that!” Chloe said, having noticed the bemused grins on Beca and Jesse’s faces. She watched Jesse dive into his bag, chatting away about a movie he’d seen last night, and saw Beca roll her eyes at her.

Chloe simply gave her friend a wink with a warm smile, handed her the leaf she’d held in her right hand, and stood up.

“I’ll see you in a couple of hours Becs?”

“Uh…yeah…” Beca said, looking up from Chloe’s leaf she’d been frowning at in her left hand, and gave the woman a curt nod to back up her reply. Then Chloe Beale walked away, trying hard not to be affected by Jesse’s sudden appearance. He was a Treble. There was no way anything would happen between him and Beca.


Just over three and a half years later and Beca and Chloe were the best of friends. They were co-captains of The Barden Bellas. Chloe had failed her Russian Lit finals every year since Beca’s freshman year. She’d insisted to herself it wasn’t because she wanted to stay close to Beca and make the most of the time she got to spend with the brunette as co-captains, and address the crazy crush she still had on the woman.

But it was entirely all of those things.

She’d tried hard over the years to knock down Beca’s emotional walls. The younger woman wasn’t exactly the initiator of hugs like Chloe had hoped by now, but she no longer flinched or stiffened up when the redhead wrapped her arms around her. Which was as often as possible.

Jesse was also no longer 'a problem’. Though in all fairness to the guy, he’d been really good for Beca. By the end of their freshman year Jesse and Beca had begun dating and had kept dating until mid-way through their senior year. And from the end of Beca’s freshman year through to mid-way through her senior year Chloe had been absolutely and utterly in love with her. Besotted. Feelings that simply grew as every day passed. Feelings that made her burst into tears overnight because she knew Beca would never be hers.

Unrequited love was the worst kind of love to be in, but Chloe had told herself that it was the greatest sign of strength that she could keep going about her day-to-day life alongside Beca, despite her feelings towards her. Feelings that Beca absolutely did not reciprocate.

The final week left in the Barden sorority house was a sad one for all The Bellas. It was the end of an era, particularly for the eldest member of the collegiate acapella group. She’d lived in that house for six years. She’d known her housemates for four years. And she was pretty sure she’d been in love with Beca for four years too. This week was their final week together. And Chloe took every opportunity possible sit with Beca. Because once Friday came, she honestly didn’t know when she’d see Beca again.

“So…I got you something…”

Chloe looked up from the magazine she was reading at the kitchen table, furrowing her brow in curiosity at Beca’s words. The brunette had been sat beside her, scrolling through her laptop, but now held something in her hands.

Chloe took the small white envelope that Beca held out to her and she smiled softly as she read her name that her best friend had scribbled on the front.

“Now it’s…well it’s nothing fancy…actually it’s pretty dumb…”

Chloe began opening the envelope as Beca continued talking nervously. Chloe wasn’t nervous though. She was excited.

“…but I wanted…I needed you to have it…and um…to read this card because…”

Chloe pulled the card out of the envelope and paused. It was homemade. At least, it looked homemade.

“…well what I’ve written is things that’ve been…um…they’ve been on my mind…for a long long time.”

Chloe peered at the leaf on the front of the card. It was brown. And flat. And glued with utmost precision.

“Do you recognise it?” She heard Beca ask tentatively and Chloe shook her head gently, “oh…um…it’s a leaf you gave me a few years back. When I was in freshman year?”

Chloe quickly looked up at Beca, and saw how embarrassed the woman had become. But Chloe didn’t care. Her hands began trembling slightly as she looked back down at the card again. At something so precious and thoughtful. Something that was so far from something she thought Beca would ever do for her. But she HAD done it.

“It’s dumb. It’s so so dumb. Ugh and now I feel like an idiot…” Beca said, leaning her elbow on the table and placing her face in her palm, scrunching her face up. But Chloe felt tears prickling her eyes. Did this mean what she thought it meant?

She opened the card in haste, and to her surprise saw both sides of the card written on in Beca’s signature scrappy handwriting. But she knew Beca well enough to know how to read her handwriting. She got to the end and let out a huge exhale.

Tears had begun falling down Chloe’s cheeks and she looked up at her best friend who was now biting her bottom lip nervously. But Chloe smiled, letting out a wet giggle.

“So…what do you think? Should we give it a go?” Beca asked quietly, and Chloe burst into tears, her smile growing wider as she nodded and flung herself into her best friend’s arms.

Their tender first kiss was drenched in the redhead’s tears as Chloe mumbled “yes” over and over again between each kiss. And Beca smiled, her own tears joining Chloe’s.

Because the final words at the end of the card had read: “So, Chloe Beale, will you be my girlfriend?”

By Your Side

Dean Winchester x Reader

3100 Words

Story Summary: Not wanting to go to your cousin’s wedding, Dean is by your side, making sure your family doesn’t pick on you too much.

A/N: Written for @jensen-jarpad and her  Big Celebration!! Happy Early Birthday, and congrats on the milestone!! 

“Hey sweetheart, what is this?” Dean called out, holding a fancy looking white envelope in his hands. “I found it underneath all of my records.”

“Oh that. It’s just a wedding invitation.” You muttered, wishing you had just thrown it away in the first place. It was for your cousin’s wedding, and you hadn’t planned on attending.

“When is it?” He asked, plopping down on the couch next to you, but you just shrugged. You hadn’t even opened the envelope. “Don’t you want to go?”

“Not really. It’s one of those big family functions that are awkward and annoying, and all my family will be pointing me out, wondering why I’m still unmarried. I’m the oldest of my cousins, and I’m not married. Hell, I haven’t even had a steady boyfriend for as long as I can remember. If I went, it would just remind me what a big failure I am in my family’s eyes.” You mumbled, telling Dean a lot more than you had planned to. But it was true. You were like the black sheep in the family. While the rest of your cousins were going to college, getting married and having babies, you had nothing you could tell them, or make them proud of you. And after a while, their hushed whispers and pointed looks hurt.

Keep reading

Wrong Mail

Gajevy Oneshot
A gift fic for @levymcgarden17

Gajeel stepped through the doorway, looking forward to taking off his workboots after the long day at the shop. He tossed his mail onto the small kitchen table. He’d sort through it in a little bit.

The A/C unit in the window sputtered to life. Then stopped. And turned back on. The maintence guys had told him they’d get to it. Sure. He roughly sat down in the only chair around the table. He had forgotten his lunch again, now remembering where he had left it; the paper sack stared him in the face.

Munching on the sandwich he should have eaten during the day, he saw the stack of mail was thicker than usual. Looking through the clear slots, most were bills of his. But a few were addressed to someone else.

“McGarden? Again?” He squinted. That blue haired girl who lived in the apartment directly below his. How many times did he have to go downstairs to switch out their mail, as she received some of his as well?

Not that he hated it, per sa. He didn’t mind getting to see her, she wasn’t bad to look at at all. Pretty cute for a shorty. But he always felt as though she was waiting on him for something, as much as they saw each other during the week.

Sighing, he put his boots back, palmed the white envelopes, and stalked out into the hallway. When he came up to her door, he knocked and waited. What was she going to be wearing this time? Last time it was workout clothing. The time before that was a dress.

The door opened and Gajeel wasn’t prepared for it. His mouth dropped open when he saw the pink two-piece swimsuit. She held a beach towel and a pair of sunglasses. She grinned while Gajeel gathered himself.

“Yes?” she said calmly.

“Um, Levy, hi,” Gajeel stumbled. He huffed and looked down, remembering the mail. He was angry with himself for looking like a fool, with his reddening face. He couldn’t stop staring at her curves.

“I keep getting your mail. This needs to stop, dammit,” he said with force to cover his weakness. He shoved the mail at her and when she took it, stuffed his hands in his pockets.

She scanned through them. “I’m sorry you end up with my mail. I don’t know how to stop it. I’ve told them my apartment is B2, not C2.”

Gajeel couldn’t hear her for his own thoughts. He looked her up and down. He asked flatly, “Why are you in a swimsuit?”

Levy smiled. “A pool party.”

“This complex doesn’t have a pool.” He looked at her like she was crazy.

She waved a hand. “I know, my friend lives across the road. She’s got a large pool in her backyard. They’re grilling out.”

They stood staring at each other in awkward silence. He took a deep breath. It always felt like this time in their weekly mail-swapping meetings that it got weird. Like she was waiting on something.

“So you got any mail of mine?” he asked slowly.

She shook her head. “Not this time.”

“Well if you do, you don’t have to wait for me to bring you yours.” He slowly turned to leave.

“Ok, I will.” She gave him another smile, a bit her bottom lip. “Do, do you want to come with us? To the pool party?”

He was not expecting an invitation. Nor was he dressed for it. “”It sounds like fun, but I don’t want to ruin it for you.”

She giggled and shifted in place. “You wouldn’t ruin it. Can you swim? You do have swim trunks right?”

He knew he owned one, but a place in his mind wondered where he even kept it. “Uh, yea, I’d have to find it.”

Levy beamed and put the sunglasses on and lifted them up on her head. “Good! We’ll wait for you!”

He stared at her as a smile slowly crept its way in on his face. Good things can come from finding the wrong mail.

Professional Family Man

Originally posted by robinllordtaylor

Fandom: Gotham
Pairing: Victor Zsasz x Reader
Request: Please please please can you write something about victor zsasz coming home from a brutal day of work, and he has a family whit you(his secret wife that is also a baker) and 3 children ♡♡♡♡♡ i love you, i am sorry if you dont understand what I write, English is no my first lenguage and i am just learning :’(
Warnings: Fluff, mentions of death.

The bakery resided on the first floor of a narrow building, decorated with cheap trinkets and embroidered pillows in the window display, along side freshly baked eccles cakes; sugared puff pastries with sweet currants packed inside. A small hand painted sign hung above the front door; gold lettering generously curls on a bubblegum pink background.

When he entered the building (ignoring the ‘closed’ sign on the door), Victor spotted a baby blue apron laying across the counter and smirked.

Taking a rest, He thought.

Victor could still recall the time when he gave it to you, an impulse buy while on a job, happening to pass the market on the way. You’d looked as if he’d just handed you a million bucks as you handed over the old horrid green apron you use to wear. That had been a long while ago now, and the colour had dulled. It’s original silver deign along the hem had faded to match the old jeans you always wore and the material now had a beaten look about it, as if they’d had too many spins in the washing machine. Soon it would have to be replaced.

Inhaling, Victor savoured the scents. In the bakery the air was more delicious than any flavour. Somehow the aroma captures everything good in here: the filtered coffee, the various cakes, the danish pastries and although it was familiar, it was a blend that he just couldn’t get enough of. It was you.


The two children’s screams brought a wide smile upon Victor’s face and immediately he bent down to catch the first of his sons that came thundering down the steep, wooden stairs that lead up to the apartment.

“Hey, tweedles!” Victor greeted, referring to his twin boys as the fictional character’s from Alice in Wonderland, throwing the first of them up into his arms as he straightened up, bringing the other against him in a one-armed hug. “Where’s your mother, huh? You’ve been looking after her while I’ve been away, right?”

The boys nodded, identical thick mops hair flopping over their brown eyes. Before they could answer, however, a pair of heavy footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs.

“You’re back early, husband.”

At the sound of your voice, Victor gently placed his son back onto his feet before rushing to your side, placing his hands on your waist to keep you steady. You laughed at his protectiveness and placed your own hands on you swollen stomach.

“Worry wart.” You teased him, capturing his lips in a warm kiss, ignoring the disgusted expressions on your children’s faces.

Breaking away, Victor gave you a loving look before turning back to the twins. “Go upstairs, boys. You’re mummy and I have some time to catch up on.”

“Don’t be gross!” They yelled, running back the way they had come.

Once out of sight, Victor turned his attention back to you, his expression faltering.

“Falcone came around yesterday,” You told him, your hands falling to his sleeves, pushing them upwards to reveal the fresh tally marks that he had scarred into his flesh. “He told me what happened.”

Victor’s own eyes wandered down to the scars. “It’s been a bad week.”

“I know.”

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, listening to the others steady breathing and the footsteps above before you let go of him, stuffing a hand into the pocket of your dress. “I have something that might make you feel better.”

Victor smiled softly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You breathed, handing him a small envelope.

Opening it, Victor slid the black and white photo out from the paper folds and immediately his expression lit up once he realized what it was. An ultrasound. “You know?”

“Yes.” You chuckled, “We’re going to have a Zsaszette, Victor. A little girl.”

“A girl.” He repeated, falling to his knees and placing his hands on your heavily pregnant stomach. “We’re going to have a girl!”

part 2; lies and deceit

Part one

Pairings: jungkook x reader x taehyung 

Genre: angst | fluff | light smut (later on)

Description: two best friends, both have lies that can hurt you, but one is going to hurt you more than the other. 

Word Count: 3k

a/n:  this part is super cheesy lol but i don’t care bc i felt cheesy and angsty..  as i said before i want to make this scenario as short as possible but we’ll see.. or i might just stop altogether. either way i really hope some of you like it and again thank you so much for taking the time to read. 

People always seemed to be intimated by you for some reason. Each time you walked the halls people gave you this strange look as if they couldn’t understand you, as if you weren’t like them in anyway. Which is why you never had any friends your freshman year of high school. None. Not a soul wanted to sit beside you in class, you were usually left with empty seats on either side of you. During lunch it was the same, you’d sit at the end of a table while the other students filled the seats on the other side. At first you didn’t seem to mind, it’s not like your main focus in high school was to have tons of friends and as your mother would say “experience the best years of your life”. What you really wanted was to focus on grades and getting the perfect GPA. But eventually the emotionless attitude wore out and the suppressed feelings from being an outcast caught up to you..

The first half of your freshman year was outstanding in grades but a complete failure in making any friends or feeling good about yourself, feeling happy.

The only friends you had were books, you’d stay almost everyday after school reading or spending extra time with a teacher to get ahead in the class. Which is how you ran into the one person who would change everything for you.

Jeon Jungkook was popular since birth, or so the rumors went, he was admired by everyone. Every single person in the high school knew him, including the upperclassmen. They loved the bad boy vibes he had, his leather jackets and boots, his one earring he wore, his dark hair and eyebrows, the intimidating and menacing look he had. He was most known for his skills in sports and dating girls older than him. You had three classes with the guy but never paid him any attention, he was loud and obnoxious and it annoyed you. Of course he had the looks, and the body but with his cocky attitude none of it appealed to you. As far as you knew he didn’t even know you existed, if you passed by it was like nothing, he was oblivious to your presence. So for you he didn’t matter.

It was a regular day for you, you were putting your books away in your locker, the halls were empty and everyone had left long ago. You were getting ready to leave yourself. You didn’t hear when Jungkook came marching down the hallway, his face red and full of rage, his big fists clenching at his sides ready to punch anything that was in his way. All you heard was the loud slam of your locker in your face and its echo filling the hallway. You’d expect a scream or squeal to escape your lips but your mouth stayed shut.

“Oh shit! I’m sorry are you hurt?!” Jungkook quickly asks once he see’s someone behind the locker he just punched, his voice trembling still with anger but now more worried. He focuses on you now to see if he did hurt you in anyway and was completely taken back, the sight of you quickly dissolved all the anger he was feeling before and replaced it with something else.

You didn’t hear a word he said, you didn’t even see who it was exactly. You had your eyes closed tight and your hands up to your ears to block out any sound, all you heard was the rapid beating of your heart, it wasn’t even in sync the beating was all over the place.

He touches your shoulder and you open your eyes. They widened when you recognized the guy in front of you. Jungkook was speaking to you his lips moving fast and his brows furrowed displaying a look of full worry and hopelessness. But you couldn’t hear him you still had your ears covered and you were still shaking. He touches your shoulder again and stands closer to you, he only said one word this time and you knew that word. Your name. Jungkook knew your name.

Keep reading

Sherlock Valentine's Day Challenge Day #5

Prompt: “I’ll admit, this is by far the most *interesting* Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had.”

A/N: This is part one, part two will be tomorrow for Day 6!

You pull your coat tighter around you as you trudge down the sidewalk behind Sherlock and your brother. This is not how you wanted to spend this evening. With your older brother John and his friend, who had no idea you were in love with him. You sigh quietly and wish for the thousandth time that things were different. That your brother wasn’t so over protect, that Sherlock wasn’t so emotionally unavailable, that you were brave enough to not let either of those two limiting factors stop you from being with the man you love. John turns and looks over his shoulder at you.
“You ok?” He asks. You are having a hard time keeping up with Sherlock’s long, determined strides.
“Yeah, sure,” you say to him. He turns back around. “Because this is my idea of a romantic Valentine’s Day,” you mutter sarcastically to yourself under your breath. You pick up your pace a bit, trying not to fall too far behind. As much as you would have loved a romantic night out, you secretly love the thrill of chasing down a clue with the amazing detective. You can see how both he and John became addicted to the adrenaline rush of outsmarting criminals and saving lives. It was intoxicating.
“Here,” Sherlock says, coming to a halt. You stop as well and look around and you realize he’s led you to a, small isolated park. He takes a photograph out of his pocket and holds it up. The picture shows an outcropping of trees and a glimpse of a bench with a wrought iron fence in the background. “This is the place. This is where we should find the last clue. Let’s split up and look around.” Wordlessly, the three of you turn in three separate directions. You aren’t sure what you are looking for, exactly, but you search high and low. After a while, you glance up and notice Sherlock’s search as brought him back around closer to your search territory. He sees you watching him and heads over to you.
“I hope we didn’t ruin any plans you might have had tonight,” he says, quietly. Your heartbeat quickens and you feel a flush creeping up your neck towards your cheeks.
“No plans,” you shrug, “Anyway, I’m happy to help you.” Suddenly a twig snaps behind you and you both spin around. You were fully expecting to see John but your heart plummets when you see a figure, clad in all black, pointing a gun at you.
“You’re looking for the last clue?” The man asked. Neither of you answers. “I have it right here,” he says, holding out a large white envelope. “But I’m not going to give it to you. I’m going to leave it for Dr. Watson. And if you two want to stay alive, you better start praying that he can solve the last puzzle in time.” Two more men appeared behind him, both also holding guns. “Take these two and put them in the van,” the first gunman ordered. You glance at Sherlock and he nods at you, his eyes telling you to keep calm and do exactly what they say. Promptly, you each have your wrists zip-tied behind your back and are led away from park into the back of an old delivery van.
“Leave the last clue somewhere Dr. Watson will find it,” the first man said as he slammed the van doors shut. The engine starts and the van pulls away. It’s dark in the back of the van but you can just make out two of captors and their guns, still trained on you.
“Well, no matter what happens from here on out,” you whisper, glancing at Sherlock. “I’ll admit, this is by far the most *interesting* Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had.”
Sherlock purses his lips and stares back at you with a grim expression before closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the metal wall of the van.
“Hurry, John,” you pray silently. “Please hurry.”