#might explode ! every time I have more than one bad day in a row I lose all hope and this is day 5 of consistent bad neck days

[buyingaradspaceship]

dude if my neck keeps up like this I’ll fucking decapitate myself. not a fan of this pain tbh !

[theringers]

friends with benefits - charles leclerc

summary: type A planner best friend lives with no thoughts head empty best friend and they decide to start sleeping together

request: 37 , 70, 78 w charles😃

prompts: 37) “Please? I'll be good, I promise!" 70) “we’re just…friends.” “friends don’t do this type of shit!” 78) “Not to make things weird, but I thought about you when I came last night.”

a/n: charles, head empty no thoughts just his hot roommate and his inability to keep things to himself

warnings: nsfw, 18+, angst kinda, friends to fuck buddies, oral sex

“Could you uhhhhh do me a favor?” You asked Charles. The fuzzy blanket was draped over both of you and he was about to press play on the movie.

His eyes rolled. “What do you need, my love?” He asked in a sarcastic tone.

“Can you maybe make some popcorn?” You tried to slow your words down a bit, for some reason thinking he would be more inclined to say yes if you asked like that.

He exhaled loudly. “Fine.” He tossed the blanket over to you so he could get up off the couch. “But only because now you’ve got that thought in my mind and I want it.”

“If doing things for yourself instead of me makes you feel better, that’s okay with me.” You smiled. This was a typical weeknight for the two of you.

You were a self proclaimed movie critic. Charles just got stuck with a self proclaimed movie critic as a roommate, but it made for some entertaining nights.

The two of you met in high school and immediately formed a bond. Everything between you two was easygoing and laid back, which he loved. He was never a huge people person or party type and neither were you.

You found peace in each other’s silent company and eventually realized you had more in common than you first thought. That following summer, you did practically everything together. Charles had a couple girlfriends here and there and you had a couple boyfriends as well, but it didn’t really matter. Nothing ever stuck.

College rolled around and you weren’t sure what to do. You wanted to stay in Monaco close to your family, but you just couldn’t live at home anymore. Lucky for you, Charles offered to let you move into his spare bedroom until you could make a decision. It had been years and you were still in that spare bedroom. The thought of moving out and doing something different hadn’t crossed your mind since the day you moved in.

“Do you want butter or no butter?” He asked from the kitchen, hands full of popcorn bags.

“Come on is that even a question?”

“Right. Butter. Lots of it.” He threw the bag into the microwave and it started to pop.

He came back with a bowl full of steaming popcorn and handed it to you.

“Be careful it’s,” he looked at you to see your mouth wide open and steam coming out, “hot.”

“Almost hotter than you,” you said once you caught your breath.

He rolled his eyes and fake laughed. “Hilarious, y/n.”

“I’m being serious.”

“C’mon, we’ve talked about this.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I think you’re hot,” you said. Every time this was brought up, he got so flustered. Which was why you continued to joke around with him and flirt with him. He would never act on it.

“Y/n…. I’m gonna go to bed if you keep this up.” He was annoyed.

“I’m sorry. Please stay? I’ll be good, I promise.” You batted your eyelashes at him.

“Fine, but you gotta stop,” he said, pulling your legs onto his lap so you could lounge more comfortably.

A rom-com was playing on the TV and the sound of munching on popcorn was filling the room.

A long distance relationship played out on the screen. Lots of phone calls, lots of phone sex, lots of jerking off to each other’s photos. You shifted in your seat, trying to seem casual and not uncomfortable.

“Not to make things weird, but I thought about you when I came last night.” You stopped shifting and looked at Charles.

“So much for ‘we’ve talked about this’.” You held up air quotes. “Care to elaborate?” He was known for saying out of pocket things. Sometimes you weren’t sure if he fully thought things through before he said them.

“I mean, not really. The movie just reminded me of it.”

You couldn’t think of a response quick enough so he continued to talk. “You always say whatever’s on your mind so I thought I might try it out.”

“You don’t do that enough already?”

“I’m trying to be more honest.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes at him. “I applaud you for that. But you can’t just leave me hanging like this.”

“Don’t hate me, that’s all I’m going to say.” His hand rubbed up and down your shins that were resting on his lap.

“I could never hate you, Charles.”

“Last night when you took a shower, you left the bathroom door wide open. I was just walking back to my room from the kitchen, I didn’t mean to-”

You laughed and interrupted him. “Charles, it’s okay. That’s my fault.”

“I just glanced, I promise. But I couldn’t get the thought out of my mind. And my cock was still really hard after a while.”

“You knew I was awake, you should have come to my room,” you said. It sounded good in theory but if you were being honest with yourself, you wouldn’t know what to do if he showed up at your bedroom door with a boner.

“We’re just friends though. Friends don’t do that type of shit.” He took a deep breath and looked off in the distance. Anything to avoid eye contact.

“Says who?” He looked at you and tilted his head in confusion. “A lot of friends do that type of shit. There’s even a word for it.”

“Have you thought about this before?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t… Charles, we’re two young twenty somethings that live together. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about what it would be like if we were sleeping together.”

“I don’t mean this in a bad way but I honestly didn’t think about it until I saw you.”

“Maybe it’s just the hopeless romantic in me.” You had thought about what a perfect storyline it would make for you two to sleep together but never the reality of actually getting into bed with him. Now that made you nervous.

“More like the horny romantic”

“Very funny…” You tossed a piece of popcorn at him and he swatted it away.

“So, are we doing this thing?” He turned his attention from the TV to you.

“Tell me you didn’t just actually ask me that question.” He was blunt and never beat around the bush.

“I did, and I would like an answer, please.” You wanted to smack that stupid smile off of his face for how he was making you feel.

“What’s this thing?” He needed to spell it out.

“Are you,” he pointed to you, “going to let me,” his finger moved to himself, “inside of you?”

You burst out laughing. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty. We need to set some ground rules for this.”

“Rules?” He didn’t look like he was a fan of rules. And as his roommate, you knew he wasn’t a fan of them. Just ask the groceries you’ve gone shopping for two months in a row.

“Our friendship, our cohabitation, you know. I’m not just going to let you go willy nilly on me without making sure you aren’t going to leave me friendless or homeless after.” Nothing could be done with you unless it was carefully planned. All possible outcomes had to be thought through.

“I would never leave you friendless or homeless.”

“Even if I was the worst person at sex, in the world, ever?”

“I highly doubt you’re the worst, but even if you were.”

“You’d still fuck me, even if everyone in the entire world was better than me. Damn I’m lucky.”

“Here’s a rule for you. You need to tell me how it feels. I’ll fuck you however you want to be fucked so you better tell me when something feels good.” Charles said.

“I can do that. If you like something I do, tell me. If you don’t, tell me.” You talked a big game but telling Charles how he made you feel sexually made your spine tingle, and you weren’t sure if it was anxiety or desire.

“I doubt there’s anything you can do to my body that I won’t like.” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. He was a guy after all.

“You wanna bet?” You asked, lunging at him jokingly.

“Sure, I’d like to see you try.”

“I guess I will, then.” You just needed time to plan it first.

He stood up and held out his hand for you to take. “Now that we’ve talked about it, I can’t get it off my mind.”

“You want to do this, right now?” Panic set in. This was too sudden.

“Right now,” he said, confidently. “If, that’s what you want, of course.”

“Okay.” You followed him into the hallway, bypassing your bedroom and ending up in his.

You took a few shy steps around, like you’d never been in there before. “Do you want to get on top or do you want me to?”

“Y/n…” He needed you to just relax and let go.

“Right, right, let’s just do it.” You took a step forward and he grabbed your face in his hands. Your lips moved with his, feeling soft and warm. There was only so much in your life you could plan. This was never part of it.

He slowly guided you to his bed and gently pushed you backwards. His shirt slid over his head and you admired his body, looking at him in a different light. He never took his shirt off around you with sexual intentions but this was new. And fun.

You smiled at him, both of you acknowledging what you were about to do. It made you explode inside thinking about how much you were enjoying this, letting someone else take control and letting go. You shouldn’t be enjoying this, you thought. Snap out of it.

“Before we start, is there anything you really don’t like?” He asked, reaching for the button of your denim shorts. You nodded side to side, giving him permission to pull the shorts down your legs.

He immediately pulled your thong aside and slipped a finger between your folds. He smiled feeling the wetness. “Thinking about us fucking is turning you on, isn’t it?”

“Don’t embarrass me,” you shot him a look and he understood.

“I’m not embarrassing you. It’s sexy.” He kneeled between your legs on the floor.

“Well, keep it to yourself,” you said.

“Why would I keep it to myself when I have physical proof that thinking about us is turning you on?” One of his fingers easily slid inside of you and your hips shifted as you rolled your eyes at him. “Is this okay?” He asked, concerned by your movements.

“Yes,” you said, unsure of what else to say. You didn’t want to give him any more ammo to make fun of you. You told each other everything but this was one side of you he never saw, and you didn’t think he ever would. Vulnerability at its finest, but you agreed to this.

His finger moved in and out of you and the sounds of your wet pussy made you want to cover your face and hide. He added a second and slowly curled his fingers up to hit your g-spot. A soft moan escaped your lips despite the fact that you were trying hard to keep them to yourself.

“Tell me how it feels.” He said.

“It feels,” you took a moment to breathe in, “so good.” He used his other hand to play with your clit, causing you more pleasure. You were looking at the ceiling, finding it hard to acknowledge that Charles was the one making you feel like this. If you squeezed your eyes shut hard enough, maybe this wouldn’t be something you needed to worry about.

A euphoric feeling began to build in your stomach, your legs slowly going numb in the best way possible. You continued to try and hold in your moans but when you hit your climax, everything was uncontrollable. Your body jerked and moans fell as you rode out your high.

You opened your eyes to see Charles pulling his fingers out and smiling. He made you feel that way and while you lay half naked on his bed post-orgasm, it was starting to feel okay. How much more vulnerable could you get with him than this?

He stood up and pulled his sweatpants off, his hard cock springing out of his cotton boxers. Your jaw dropped and you couldn’t help but stare as he stroked himself, preparing for you. He noticed, but ignored it, granting your request of not embarrassing you. The look he shot you was enough to know that he was aware of your stares.

“I’m only gonna say it one more time,” he said, leaning on top of you with his hands on either side of your head. “You need to tell me how it feels, or I’m going to start talking really dirty with you.”

You laughed, feeling more relaxed than before. “I almost want to keep quiet on purpose just to see that.”

He dipped his head in disappointment. “Not funny.”

“I think I’m pretty funny.”

“You are, but I want to make you feel good. I’d rather know then instead of you telling me I sucked after.”

“Okay, okay,” you obliged. He nodded and positioned himself at your entrance, slowly pushing himself inside of you.

You had to adjust to his size - his dick was nothing like his fingers. He didn’t give you much time before he started moving and you didn’t even care. He felt so good inside of you and seeing his body on top of you was putting you at ease rather than stressing you out, like you had expected it to.

His head rested in the crook of your neck, giving you perfect access to his ear. Almost like he did it on purpose, to make you more comfortable. You didn’t have to look at him in the eyes and admit how good he was making you feel. “Your dick feels so good,” you whispered in his ear and he grunted in response.

“You’re so tight, fuck,” he said into your ear, slightly nibbling on the lobe.

His hips moved rhythmically while you lifted your feet onto his back to change the angle. You couldn’t help but let more moans slip out at the feeling. “I think I’m gonna cum,” you said, quietly.

“Let go,” he said followed by a few expletives. His pelvis ground into you, creating a sensation on your clit you’ve never experienced.

You felt your second orgasm of the night build up as he continued to fuck you, keeping the same pace. You held your hands on his back and let moans fall to his ear making sure he knew how good you felt.

He pulled out of you and your body felt like deadweight. You were glued to the bed and couldn’t find the energy to get up. “How was that?” He asked. Of course he couldn’t give you a second to recover before opening his mouth.

“Great,” you smiled, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Did you finish?” You sure hadn’t felt him cum inside of you and you don’t think he wore a condominium either.

“No, but I just wanted to make sure you felt good.” He picked his sweatpants up off the floor and went to put his boxers back on before you stopped him.

“Unacceptable. I’m not going to let you jerk off thinking about me two nights in a row. Especially not after I was just naked in your bed.” Your post-orgasm confidence was showing when you dropped to your knees in front of him and took his still hard cock in your hand.

Slick juices still covered it, making it easier for you once you took him in your mouth. He was bigger than you expected, so you started swirling your tongue around the tip while your hand worked at the rest of him. “Shit,” you could hear him say.

You slowly took more of him, hollowing out your cheeks in response to his moans. His hand found the back of your head but rested there, not wanting to pressure you for more but he couldn’t resist once you fit almost all of him in your mouth.

The sounds he made caused butterflies in your stomach knowing that you were the sole reason for those sounds. His grip got tighter on you and he started to thrust into you when you felt a warm liquid shoot down your throat.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he grunted while you took every last drop. You stood up and took a step back, swiping your finger over your bottom lip.

He looked at you with the same eyes you looked at him after he finished fucking you. “So, uh,” he said. “Where do we go from here?”

You nervously looked around the room. “Should we finish the movie?”

“Great idea.”

You both put your clothes back on and sat back on the couch. “Let’s talk about that.” He never knew when to shut up, but sometimes it was for the better.

“What about it?”

“Did you like it? Should we do it again? Do you want to move out?” You laughed at his last question.

“It was really good,” you said, your thoughts wandering to just a few moments ago. You wouldn’t mind having him on top of you again. “We might as well.”

“Just one more thing,” he said. “Don’t fall in love with me.” He smiled and let out a giggle. You weren’t sure if he was being serious or not, but you laughed along too.

[tinyyoungblood]

hi!! adore your work love. could you maybe do smth where stark!reader has to get her wisdom teeth out but HATES the dentist so she brings her boyf peter and her dad w her?? and then when they get home the avengers are all waiting with like comical amounts of flowers and stuffed animals and then reader says some funny shiii and thor thinks she’s like dying lol. idk if that made sense but i’m getting my wisdom teeth out soon and i’m scared😭 thank u so so much love u babe

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

a/n: tysm lovely :,) i rushed through this like my life depended on it, but i hope i’m not too late. either way, i hope you’re okay! it’s frightening but those bad boys gotta go because we don’t need that kind of energy in our lives. enjoy x

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

wisdom teeth? more like wisdoom

y/n has to get her wisdom teeth removed and it’s the singular most dreadful thing she’s ever had to do, which says a lot because her dad is tony richling stark

doing dreadful things she doesn’t want to do but still somehow end up doing just because she can is a personality trait at this point

no one really makes a big deal out of it since ~death~ is part of their job description, but y/n is terrified

and when a stark is terrified the only thing that will keep them one step from insanity is researching the hell out of it

that information will be info dumped into every conversation for the next few weeks leading up to the appointment

“y/n you need anything from the store?” "no thanks, did you know the side effects of getting your wisdom teeth out include ✨sudden death or blood clots✨ tho” “……..i have a coupon?”

the day of the appointment, peter comes along and literally doesn’t let go of y/n’s hand. he keeps touching her to let her know that he’s there and it’s so. adorable

he would rest his hand on her knee, gently stroke her back while holding her, or just play with her hair

happy drops them off and he’s too Cool™ for emotions but he knows y/n’s a wreck, so he just fist bumps her with a single nod and she almost breaks down bc it’s really affectionate

y/n is sitting in the dentist chair and genuinely nothing is happening yet, but she’s squeezing peter’s hand like it’s a sponge

peter might have a high pain tolerance but he’s in pain pain and he prays that his hand won’t just explode on him

the dentist notices how peter tries to keep it together and chuckles

“you okay there, son?” “yea it’s fine, had a better time when a building fell on me tho haha” “pardon?” “oh i mean i didn’t have a good time, i just had a better time”

because y/n is running Anxious Town™, the dentist gives her a sedative to help her relax 

plus, an injection of local anaesthetic to numb the tooth and surrounding area

she doesn’t feel anything and it’s GREAT

the procedure is quicker than expected and now the real fun begins

she tries to walk but she falls down so peter scoops her up bridal style and happy stays glued at her side

y/n doesn’t mind although she literally doesn’t recognise them and they’re practically strangers to her

but girly sees an opportunity and tries to flirt with peter bc why wouldn’t she

“you’re pretty” *blushes* “why thanks” “you should let your girlfriend know” “i should let her know i’m pretty?” “so you do have a gf? :(” “yea it’s you” “:)”

they stop for gas and peter goes in to get some water for y/n, and in her infinite wisdom, she decides it’s burger time

her mouth is completely numb and she’s practically leaving a trail of drool behind her, but she’d kill for a burger right now

so she wobbles around aimlessly for an hour on some random parking lot as if the ground might just magically open up like a rabbit hole and lead her to five guys

she’s going places. not back to the car. definitely not five guys. they’re closed. but places

peter finally finds her and he’s drenched from head to toe in sweat. he doEsn’T wAnt tO tALk abOut iT tho so she lets him take her to subway instead

normally, she would know that peter’s usual subway order is bread-lettuce-jalapeño

but in her drugged-up state, it had simply slipped her mind so now she’s staring at him like he’d just murdered someone right in front of her

“that- that’s your order?? no meat or anything just bread, lettuce, and a little spice?”

meanwhile at the compound, sam and steve are ordering everyone around bc they want to decorate this place before y/n gets home to surprise her

they take it very seriously too. they’ve watched like one HGTV show and said it’s our time

they finally get home and tony gives y/n a big hug, asking her what took so long

happy tells him that she was keen on getting burgers bc apparently someone has taught her that stressful times call for ~cheeseburgers~

he proceeds to look at tony with a pointed look

tony just shrugs and goes “she was a problem child. we don’t mention her dark past”

she’s swaying on the spot and keeps grinning like a fool and thor just stares at her weirdly before elbowing bruce and whispering loudly,

“what’s wrong with her? is she dying? should i start collecting leaves, i know this remedy—"

no one can tell if y/n is just happy to see the newly decorated home or if she’s just delighted to see everyone but then she goes around hugging the entire team

she doesn’t even acknowledge the sky-high pile of teddy bears and flowers everywhere bc she’s just squeezing everybody

y/n is so high, she just starts to spill all of her feelings about everyone and they’re already so overwhelmed by the hug chain they can’t take this too

“wanda i just want you to know that you’re like my big sister and you’re always taking care of me and i know you and vision are just going to make such good parents one day”

“bucky you absolute PRICK, you FIEND, you’re the best chess player ever and that’ll never change and i wouldn’t be good without you, i hate to say it but you deserve happiness even after you made me lose five times in a row yesterday”

“dad, you’re so strong and smart, even though we’re like never on the same page, you’re always along for the ride, i want to be like you when i grow up, i swear i’m gonna try to be as good to the avengers as you were to us” “aww- wait makes you think i'll be the first to die���

“nat you’re such a bitch about your protein shakes but you’re my best friend and i wouldn’t have it any other way, you can try out as many make up looks on me as you want”

“bruce, brucey, i would live with you in your lab for the rest of my days if i had to, whenever you ask me to hand you stuff i feel useful and important”

“laura’s way out of your league clint i have no idea how the fuck you got her but don’t lose her and i want to be your next child’s godmother”

“steve…we’re your family now. we’re always gonna be your family now. okay?”

“loki you’re not fooling anyone with your attitude, we all know you’re part of the family, you were just misunderstood and messed up bc of your dad–FUCK him by the way–but i realised everyone deserves as many chances as they need because of you”

“sam i would genuinely kill anyone who wronged you, even if they cut you in line at the grocery store, i would knife them no hesitation”

“thor, you poor golden retriever have been through so much, on my way here i made a wish on an eyelash for you bc you deserve better, your postcards always make my day, love you”

she mumbles something to peter that no one else can hear but he blushes and chokes back a sob

y/n orders hot soup and bucky brings it to her but before he even has time to react peter drops everything and ZOOMS across the room in .3 seconds

he barrels into bucky so hard they both go flying, but peter just smoothly rolls out of it and onto his feet like some kind of super ninja

“DUDE WHAT THE HELL” “😠 y/n is not supposed to drink hot liquids 😠”

all of this happens in mere seconds but sam has filmed it all and now slow mo clips go viral online of some mysterious kid knocking over the winter soldier

y/n’s a little in and out after that, but when she fully regains consciousness, she’s on a pile of blankets, surrounded by the team on the floor <3

* * *

let me know if this is actually comforting lmao stay hydrated pals

hc masterlist

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 56: Phone Call

Harry's mobile rang and he couldn't help but smile as he reached for his back pocket. It had taken a while but Draco had finally come around on mobiles, he called him almost every day on his lunch and it was one of Harry's favorite parts of his day.

"Hey you," he greeted. "I was thinking pot roast for dinner, would you pick up some carrots on your way?"

"Harry," he gasped and the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood on end, his entire body tingling like he was about to fall off a cliff.

"Where are you?" he asked. "I'm coming for you."

"Too late," the other man rasped.

Harry shook his head, and grabbed his wand, "No-"

"Please," Draco begged, breath rattling in his chest, "Listen," he gasped, "to me."

"I'm listening," Harry whispered, he couldn't get his voice to come out any louder, it felt like he'd swallowed glass.

"I love you," he said. "So much. You," he broke of, a cough rattling around in his chest. "Are the best thing that ever happened to me."

Harry's breath caught on a panicked sob, "Draco-"

"You," he gasped, crying out in pain, "you saved me. Love yo-"

The phone call ended abruptly and without a thought, Harry immediately apparated, through the wards into the Ministry and straight into Ron's office. "Where is he?" he said the moment his feet touched the floor.

"Circe's tits!" Ron exclaimed and Harry was vaguely aware of something shattering as Ron startled. "How the bloody hell-"

"Where is he?!" Harry shouted.

"Draco?" Ron shook his head, "You know I can't tell you that, mate. You're not-"

"I don't care. He's dying! Tell me where he is or I will bring this building to the ground."

(Read more below the cut)

"What-"

"Tell me!"

"Alright," he said, looking down at the file on his file, "Here-" he said thrusting the file at Harry.

He looked at the coordinates and apparated into the warehouse they'd sent Draco to. The moment his feet touched the ground spells were being fired of at him, but Harry was so desperate, so terrified, that his magic exploded from his body, knocking down every person standing in the room.

Without thinking, he started to move. "Draco!" he shouted as he started to jog through the rows of cases, "Draco," he begged, his heart thundering so loudly in his ears that he was afraid he wouldn't be able to hear a response.

He was almost to the end of the warehouse, about to turn back, when he glanced down a row and saw him, crumpled on the ground, blood pooling absolutely everywhere.

"Draco," he gasped, running to him and lifting him into his arms.

Draco's eyes fluttered weakly and that was all the hope that Harry needed. He apparated with the other man in his arms, taking him to St. Mungos, and screaming "Help!" as soon as they landed.

Healers seemed to rush from every side, a fact that Harry would be profoundly grateful for later, and Draco was laid out on a stretcher to be moved into a room.

A healer caught Harry as he tried to follow, "Let us work," she said.

"But-"

"No," she told him firmly, "I know you are terrified, but we need to be able to work and having you in there will only distract us."

"He's my life," Harry whispered.

She nodded, "I will do everything I can. Please. Stay here and we'll update you as soon as we can."

He stumbled when she let go, collapsing onto the floor by the door. Harry wasn't sure how much time had passed as he sat on the floor with his head down between his knees, shaking and trying to breathe before Ron and Hermione found him.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione murmured.

"Did you find him?" Ron asked, "Did you get to him in time?"

Harry looked up to see Ron's face ashen, Hermione's eyes wide with concern and he cracked, splintered into a thousand pieces that he didn't know if he'd ever be able to put together again.

His best friends were at his sides in an instant, Hermione wrapped her arms around him from the left and Ron around both of them from the right. And Harry cried. He wept, heaving, ugly sobs that he could hardly breathe around.

When he finally managed to calm himself down enough to take a deep shuddering breath, he whispered, "I don't know."

"What?" Ron asked, rubbing his hand in soothing circles along Harry's back.

"I found him and he was alive, but just barely."

"Okay," Hermione said, "Okay. We'll wait with you, alright?" she asked.

He nodded and rested his head against her shoulder, still ensconced in their embraces. Time seemed to be hardly moving at all but eventually the same healer who'd stopped Harry from going along with Draco came out of the room.

Harry looked up at her, his heart lodged so completely in his throat that he couldn't get any words out.

"He's alive," she said and Harry had to fight not to start sobbing all over again. "He's still unconscious and we won't know the complete extent of the damage until he's awake-"

"Can I see him?" Harry begged.

She nodded, "Yes. It might be some time before he wakes up, though. And like I was saying, we won't know the extent-"

"I don't care," Harry said, "I don't care one bit, whatever happens we'll work through it. I'll do anything."

"Okay," she said softly, "Okay. Go ahead inside."

Ron and Hermione helped him up and followed him into the room but stayed near the doorway as Harry approached the bed. Hermione conjured a chair for him near the bed and he gave her a grateful little nod, it was the best he could do.

He brought Draco's hand to his lips and brushed a kiss over his knuckles, "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "Please come back to me, my love," he said, voice tight. "I can't-" he couldn't push any other words out through his throat, he broke down crying again, pressing Draco's hand against his lips.

Hermione stepped over and rubbed Harry's back, Ron came to the foot of the bed and murmured, "He'll pull through."

---------------

Two weeks. Harry had spent two weeks in St. Mungos; he hadn't left to go further than the bathroom in Draco's room for a quick shower or downstairs to get some food to bring up.

At first, he'd watched Draco almost constantly, begging him to wake up, but he'd slowly allowed himself to start doing other things while he waited; reading books aloud to him or the newspaper, knitting scarves while he talked to Draco about whatever came into his head that he'd donate to the gala that raised money for children orphaned by the war, and napping in the chair that Hermione had made for him.

He was working on a crossword when he caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of his eye. By this point, though, he'd thought that the other man was moving so many times that he finished writing in the word he was on before looking up.

Time stood still as Draco's eyes fluttered slowly open.

"Draco?" he whispered.

Draco turned his head slowly, his eyes catching on Harry's.

"Hey," Harry gasped, dropping the cross word, his eyes filling with tears as the took Draco's hand in his and pressed a kiss to his fingertips. "You scared the shit out of me," he said weakly.

"Harry?" Draco rasped, voice hardly making any sound at all.

He nodded, "How are you feeling?"

"Hurts," he whispered.

"Hold on," he murmured, pulling out his wand and sending a patronus to the healers station. "I love you," Harry said. "Godric, I love you."

"I've heard you," Draco said.

"Sorry?" he murmured.

Draco's fingers weakly squeezed Harry's and Harry took that to be a good sign, "I heard you," he said. "I lost count of how many times you said it."

He pressed another kiss to Draco's knuckles, not sure what to say.

A healer came hurrying in, "Oh, Mr. Malfoy, you're awake!" she exclaimed. "You gave your boyfriend quite a scare, love."

He nodded, squeezing Harry's fingers.

"Let's get you up to testing, so we can get a better picture of your recovery plan."

Draco looked over at him, "You'll be here?"

"I'm pretty much never leaving your side again," Harry said, only half joking. "Yes, I'll be here."

-------

When they returned Draco to him, the other man was smiling and a bit of color had returned to his face. He seemed to be in the middle of a conversation with the healer bringing him back to Harry.

He glanced up and gave Harry a smile as she put his bed back in place.

"You'll be happy to know that he's going to be okay," she informed Harry. "We'll have to do a bit of work to re-train his body," she added, "but he'll make a full recovery."

"Thanks," Harry said, shaking her hand before moving back to his chair at Draco's side.

"Hey," Draco murmured.

He took Draco's hand in his and brushed a kiss over the back, "Hi."

"You've wanted me to quit the aurors for a while," Draco said.

"Yes," he affirmed because it was true; being an auror was dangerous and it was always fighting not only the bad guys but also corruption within the system. "But I understand the appeal of doing good things to help people," he added, because he did, he understood it all too well.

"Could you help me with something?"

Harry laughed, "At this point you could ask me to do pretty much anything and I would."

"Do you have a piece of parchment?"

He looked around, digging through the stack of books and magazines that Hermione had left him until he found a piece of scrap paper, "Will this do?"

He rolled his eyes, "I suppose it will suffice." And what a ridiculous thing it was to have missed his haughtiness.

"What do you want me to write?" Harry asked.

Draco cleared his throat, "Dear Head Auror Weasley," he started and Harry looked up at him in shock. "Write it down," he chastised.

His fingers trembled a little as he started to write.

"I hereby tender my resignation, effective immediately. Signed, Draco Malfoy."

"Do you mean it?" Harry asked.

Draco nodded, reaching up to cup Harry's face. "I'm sorry."

Harry turned his head to press a kiss to Draco's palm, "It doesn't matter anymore." He kissed his palm again, "You're going to be alright and you won't be in that kind of situation again. We're okay," Harry breathed.

"We're better than okay, I hope," Draco replied softly, almost a question.

"Better than okay," Harry affirmed with a nod and a smile.

And Harry was quite content to spend the rest of their (long) lives being better than okay.

---------------------

Day 55: Music | Day 57: Text Message

[arvinsescape]

Sweet Creature

A/N: Based on ‘Sweet Creature’ by Harry Styles. I was listening to it earlier today and this idea popped into my head.

Summary: Reader and Tom hit a rough patch and Tom’s not sure how to fix it but he knows he’s not going anywhere.

Warnings: Swearing.

W/C: 2.9K

You’d been with Tom for a while now and like every relationship it’d hit its rough patch. It wasn’t like the first year and a half of your relationship when you’d have a small argument and figured it out before you fell asleep. This was always something you’d made sure you did when you first moved in.

You’d done what most couples did when you felt that small change into chaos rise, you’d ignored it, assuming maybe the other was just tired and not spoken about it.

It presented itself in the way it usually did, your tempers with each other became short and the snapping started. You were both stubborn to a fault and didn’t take the responsibility of apologising.

“Did you really have to snap like that Y/N?” Tom had sighed when he joined you in bed.

“Look, you pissed me off. Sorry okay.” It wasn’t sincere and you both knew it; you were being stubborn. But Tom was more patient than he gave himself credit for and let it go. He knew you were stressed. You’d done the same for him the day prior.

That’s when the next issue would present itself. Tom was a very touchy and loving person, always wanting to present his love through all the affection he could. He always claimed having you in his arms felt like home. You didn’t sleep without his arms around you in some way, shape or form. Until you did. The snapping had ultimately reached a point that had you sleeping annoyed with each other and so, you stopped holding each other.

Then the next step. You’d both had enough and an explosive row had started about absolutely nothing. Neither of you could recall just what it was that started it but it grew into something it wouldn’t normally need to.

“Fuck sake Tom, you’ve really outdone yourself this time.” You’d screamed at him, slamming the washer shut; you were both so angry.

“Like you can fucking talk Y/N. What is this all about?” He’d yelled back at you as you made your way into the living room.

“I don’t know how many times I have to ask you to do simple things. It’s not that hard and you’ve found a million different ways of not doing a single thing today.” You seethed.

“I’m busy! Just because I’m not on set doesn’t mean I don’t have work to do.” He shouted as he slammed his script down on the coffee table.

“Whatever. Leave me to do fucking everything!” You screamed as you slammed the living room door shut, leaving him there with his anger.

That was the night you stopped sharing a bed completely. He took himself into the guest bedroom and you didn’t talk about it. That stubborn streak in both of you taking a firm hold.

After that it was awkward. You avoided each other, not wanting yet another explosive row to take place. You’d had too many over the last couple of weeks and left it you both tired. It was as if you’d forgotten how to communicate properly. Neither knowing what to say to fix it and not wanting to upset the other.

You both felt that distance settle in your chest. You hardly spoke, you didn’t touch and you missed each other in bed. Tom had almost given in one night and as he was about to make his way back into your shared bed, he faltered at the door. Sighing and shaking his head as he made his way back into the guest, well ‘his’ room. He wanted to rip the stubborn streak out of both of you and if it was possible, he would, in a heartbeat.

You’d started to find it unbearable. The distance was becoming too much. You missed him. You’d even take another argument at this point, you just wanted to feel any kind of emotion from him. He’d gone out to visit his parents, mumbling something about ‘needing some air.’ As soon as he left you broke down. You cried, the painful ache in your chest was too much. His side of the bed didn’t smell like him anymore, signalling just how long it’d been since he’d been in there.

You made your way into what had become his room and picked up his hoodie that he’d had on yesterday, you brought it up to your face and let his scent fill your senses. You’d forgotten just how good it was. Tears streamed down your face as you pulled it over your head. You made your way into his bed and let his scent take over everything. You cried for what felt like hours into his pillow.

Tom came back from his parents; he’d had a long chat with his dad about his frustrations. His dad had comforted him saying you’d fix it and find your way back to each other, that you were young and still finding the right way to navigate yourselves and he felt some of his resolve dissolve. He shut the door quietly and took in how quiet it was. He worried for a second that you might have left, but he knew you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t take off without saying anything.

It also confused him that Tess hadn’t come to say ‘hi’, maybe you’d taken her out? Then he heard it and it broke his heart. You were crying. He made his way upstairs and into the room you’d both shared. You weren’t there. He furrowed his brows as he made his way into his new sleeping residence.

There you were and you were crying so hard and so loud, he knew you’d not heard him. The sight made his heart rise and fall at the same time. It was an odd feeling, you had his hoodie on and you were curled up in ‘his’ bed, face planted in ‘his’ pillow and Tess wrapped up with you. She always did comfort you when you were sad, not leaving you for second. Seeing you in his clothing made his heart soar but the pain in your cries made his heart drop, all at once.

He moved towards the bed and made his way into it behind you. He took you into his arms and it seemingly made you cry harder. His heart was aching more than it had over the last few weeks. He missed you, he missed you being in his arms, missed your scent as much as you did his. He knew it wasn’t the end of the two of you, that it was a rough patch but that didn’t make it any easier.

He was glad that he wasn’t due to go away for a while. He realised he needed to fix it, do something. He just didn’t know what. He was somewhat scared to approach it, it had seemingly spiralled out of his control but he would and he was determined to. For now though, he just held you as you cried, feeling his own tears fall.

You still hadn’t spoken about what happened, although you fell asleep like that. The feeling of home slowly making its way back into both your chests. You had to go out that morning and you felt something shift back towards normal when he’d kissed you and told you he loved you before you left. You wished more than anything you could avoid this outing but you couldn’t.

Harrison had decided that he was going to visit that day, texting Tom to ask if he was in. When he got his reply, he made his way to his best friend’s house. He knew something had been off due to Tom’s lack of enthusiasm in their recent conversations and had decided that he needed to lend an ear.

“What’s wrong Tom? You seem off.” Harrison had commented slowly. He got a sigh in response.

“Me and Y/N are fighting. I think. I don’t know.” Tom dragged his hands over his face and sat further back in his chair.

“What do you mean you don’t know? Have you had a row?”

“Yeah but that was like two weeks ago. We just aren’t talking at all really.”

“What was it about?” Harrison was trying to pry the information carefully from his best friend.

“Fuck knows, I can’t remember. It was stupid I know that much.” He sighed again. “We’ve both just been so stressed, we were snapping at each other a lot and I don’t know it just exploded a couple times and now we’re just left with the aftermath.”

“Have you talked about it?”

“No.”

“That’s the problem Tom. You should talk.” Harrison had a stubborn streak to him but it was no where near as bad as Tom’s. It was simpler in his mind.

“We’re both so stubborn Haz, neither of us wanted to bring it up first and I don’t know, be the first to apologise. Fuck, I miss the days when we didn’t let it take over, when we’d made up quickly after an argument.” Tom felt the tears again but he didn’t let them fall.

“Look, I know I’m not as stubborn as you two but the answer is still clear, you need to talk before it gets any worse.” Harrison said as he patted his friend’s back.

“We’re not sharing a bed.” Tom suddenly stated and Harrisons eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“That bad?” Tom just nodded.

“She cried yesterday and it was the first bit of emotion we got from each other in ages.” Tom sighed again as the memories of your cries flooded his mind.

“That’s good right? She’s feeling the same as you?” Harrison asked.

“I guess. But I didn’t know what to say to her. It’s like I don’t know how to fix it. It’s not like either of us did anything worse than the other, we both let our stress get to each other and treated each other poorly as a result. I love her and I know this isn’t the end of us, I can’t imagine being with anyone else at this point Haz but fuck, I don’t know what to do.” He let a few tears fall, quickly wiping them away.

“Do something for her.” Harrison suddenly suggested.

“Like what? What if she doesn’t want me to?”

“Look, even if she doesn’t want you to, it’ll force a conversation. She was crying Tom, I’m sure she does want you to do something, she’ll be just as lost as you. Do something nice for her, make her dinner.”

“I can’t cook Harrison.” Tom reminded him with a soft laugh.

“Call Sam. He’ll tell you what to do. She’ll appreciate the thought.” Harrison comforted him.

“You’re right. I think maybe we just need to remind each other how much we love each other.” Tom sighed.

“Yes, you do. Now stop being so fucking stubborn. Don’t let her slip through your fingers mate. I’ve never seen you so happy with another human being.” Harrison laughed as he clapped his friends back again.

You’d been gone all of the morning and afternoon; it was almost six o clock before you made your way back into the house. You had a little time to clear your head, you were ready for a conversation, you can’t let this continue on. You made your way through the door saying a quick ‘hi’ to Tess as you furrowed your brows.

What was that smell? It smelt amazing and you knew Tom had not inherited the same culinary skills his brother had. Your feet padded into the living room in search of your boyfriend. He wasn’t there but you heard him in the kitchen.

“How do you have the patience for this? Are you sure that’s everything? I don’t need to add anything else?” Tom asked whoever he was talking to. You made your way into the kitchen and were shocked by the sight before you. Tom was cooking, it smelt amazing and you wondered for a second if this was Tom. You cleared your throat and he turned around. He looked at you and gave you a shy smile.

“Sam I Gotta go. Thanks bro. I will.” He said as he ended his phone call.

“Who are you and what have you done with Tom?” You teased lightly and he laughed.

“I can’t take all that much credit. Sam guided me through everything but I made your favourite.” He said shyly. There was still an awkward tension in the air but it was better than yesterdays.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I did.” He said confidently. You took a moment to scan the room. He’d laid the table as if you were at some fancy restaurant. Your heart soared as you smiled. He’d even bought a bottle of your favourite red wine.

“Oh Tom.” You suddenly sighed, happy tears finding their way to your eyes, a stark contrast from yesterdays. He’d completely taken himself out of his comfort zone to do something nice for you and you couldn’t be more grateful. Whatever it was that was going on between you was slowly dissipating. He smiled sheepishly at you.

“I’m gonna go run a bath, this needs another hour before it’s ready.” He said as he made his way upstairs. You sniffled quietly as your heart felt like it was slowly gluing back together. He returned five minutes later and took your hand in his.

You followed him upstairs as he took you into the bathroom. You slowly undressed, he watched you as you slipped into the tub and smiled. He’d missed seeing you naked. It wasn’t a sexual need that had settled in him. It was that comfort and that trust that you felt at home enough with him to let him see you like this. He followed suit, finding his way behind you.

He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest.

“I’m sorry.” He said as you shook your head.

“No I’m sorry Tom. I was being stubborn and I should’ve apologised sooner.”

“We both should have. I love you.” He said as he kissed your shoulder.

“I love you too.”

“I’ve missed you.” He placed a few loving kisses to your neck as you sighed and rolled your head back onto his shoulder.

“I’ve missed you too. So much.” You said as you kissed his cheek. He smiled as he pulled you impossibly closer to him.

“We gonna be okay?” He asked softly.

“Yeah, we’re gonna be okay.” You said confidently.

“Can I come back home?” He said sheepishly. You furrowed your brows as you turned round to face him.

“What do you mean?”

“Back to bed, back in your arms where I should be.” Tears were brimming both your eyes as you looked at each other. Normally, you’d pull him up for being cheesy but you couldn’t, this wasn’t the time. He was being vulnerable.

“Tom.” You sighed as you took his face in your hands, wiping the tear that had slipped down his cheek. “Of course you can. I still love you okay, that hasn’t changed, we just hit a rough patch.” You said as you kissed his forehead.

“I’ll be damned if I ever let my stubbornness take over again.” He sighed as he manoeuvred you back to your original position.

“You will and I will but it’s okay. Couples fight Tom, that’s normal. We’ll frustrate the hell out of each other at times but that’s okay as long as we still love each other. As long as you always come home.” You said as he kissed your shoulder again.

“I’ll always come back to you.” He concluded as he grabbed your shower gel and washed you. You silently cleaned each other up, fixing each other’s hearts as you went. It was loving and sweet and intimate and just what you both needed.

You ate your dinner and wow, it was amazing, you made a mental note to text Sam and thank him for his teaching skills. You cleaned up together and it was playful, normal. Like when you’d first got together. You had music playing softly in the background when your favourite song came on and you remembered your brother’s wedding you had attended six months ago. You and Tom had danced to this and you remembered your brother joking about how the two of you looked like the newlyweds.

Tom reached his hand out to you and you laughed. You’d already passed up one opportunity to tease him, you weren’t going to let this go.

“Do you not think this is a bit like the ending to a Hollywood romance film?”

“I am an actor sweetheart.” He teased back as he laughed.

Nevertheless you took his hand and he pulled you into his chest, you stayed like that in the kitchen. Slowly swaying but just enjoying the comfort of being in each other’s arms. Tom knew that you were it for him, that he wanted you and only you. It didn’t matter where he was in the world, he knew his end goal was always going to be to come home, back to you.

[yanderenightmare]

Ok hi again, I may be over doing it......idgaf I like ur shit! Good shit grade A writing. Aha

Aftercare, does it happen? What do they do?

Also....are these guys aware of their s/o limit if so do they stop😈

Pressing X for doubt

yandere ! BNHA thirsty headcannons

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, noncom/dubcon, abuse, manipulation, mind control

BAKUGO KATSUKI - KACHAN

He’ll at least ask. He’s always careful to ask. The actual response isn’t too important. Protest that are drowned out in a moan can’t be seen as an actual protest anyway, and he always makes sure that her words are chocked in her throat. Bakugo knows his worth, he knows that each and every thing he does to her in that bed, it’s guarantied she likes it. Her pride makes her a liar, she can’t be trusted with her own pleasure, not when he knows and has proven time and time again that he knows her body and her limits better than what she does. When he has her bent over his lap, that cute little ass that he knows belongs to him, aiming to make sure that she knows it too, each time his hand comes in harsh contact with the soft flesh, feeling it up like putty in his hand as she winces and cries for him to stop. Her protests can’t be taken seriously, not when two fingers gliding up her pussy tells him all he needs to know, feeling how soaked she already is for him, all warm and velvety and ready. That’s all the answer he needs to keep going.

As far as aftercare goes… it can vary. Sometimes he’ll draw a bath with bubbles and lavender oil and light scented candles. Other times he’ll make food, where he’ll bake desserts more than anything. But there are days he won’t do much more than keep a painfully suffocating grip on her as he drifts rather quickly off to sleep. Exchanging no words except for those growls of good night and I love you. Leaving the rest for after they wake up, having an early morning where he’ll never let her sleep in, dragging her with him to shower before he has to leave, where afterwards he’ll treat her to more tender care on the bed with his face buried between her thighs in a way of apologizing for having to leave her alone all day.

DABI - TODOROKI TOUYA

She shouldn’t worry her pretty little head about anything. Dabi might look like your worst nightmare, but you’d be surprised how soft the darkness really is. He can be persuasive and disarming if and when he wants to be, or he can be foul… He likes finding a mix between the two though, they work better together anyway. Make her feel safe, but only if she obeys, and make her feel fear if she doesn’t. He won’t bite… at least not for any longer than to make her cry for him, for those precious little water-works to bubble up to the surface. Making a chew toy out of that pretty swan-neck of hers, paint it with purple, resembling what hue of mulberry-wine found on his marred skin. Nibbling on that cute button between her legs, feel her tremble in his hold and hear her gasp out his name. Or grinding those perfect little nipples between the rows of his teeth, watching her blubber out her pleas when the pressure he applies threatens to bite the flimsy nib off, feel her pussy clench around his shaft upon the anticipation and fear. Fear does such peculiar things to people, especially in the form of threats, especially when walking hand in hand with pleasure. His darling doesn’t know what to make of herself, left completely like putty in his hands, all for him to toy with and tamper and tease. Where she doesn’t dare try and make him stop, she doesn’t dare allow herself to enjoy what he’s doing either, because only mad people run into things they already know to be a trap.

He’ll hush and coo at her to stop crying afterwards, her little mind on the verge of breaking and her pitter patter heart standing on the cliff’s edge ready to jump with nothing but Dabi to hold onto, the knot in her lower abdomen already having exploded time and time again because of him. She’s such a mess, such a cross-eyed wet hot mess, his little mess and that always manages to bring a smile to his face.

SHIGARAKI TOMURA

If Tomura’s in a mood, as in a childish fit, she can expect no rest, because the wicked as we know get no rest, and the unfortunate sweet thing kidnapped by the wicked get no rest either. Tomura’s mood, quite like his morals, change like tidewater. Sometimes he’ll behold her precious beautiful body as though she’s made up of fine porcelain, meant to be touched and worshipped softly, where the fact of her wanting the worship or not is irrelevant. He’ll still touch and touch and let himself get carried away by how insanely soft her skin is as opposed to him. He’ll fuck her slowly, each hump meaningful and hauled out to the max as so to feel every single inch of him filling her up… Then there’s his other mood… The feeling of opposition is no less there, how unfairly gorgeous she is in contrast to how appalling he is, however… instead of it evoking worship… it evokes humorous triumph. Gut-wrenching nasty despicable satisfaction, where it brings him such inane pleasure to think that someone as disgusting as him has the power and the will to corrupt something so pure, something so pretty, and how there is quite literally nothing she can do to stop him, nothing at all… it gets his blood rushing in sadistic glee when he pushes her down on her stomach, fisting her hair while jutting into her from behind, every little salacious depraved thought growled into her ear, with no regard to her choked screams except for a wild grin, spiked to go even faster.

Not much tender aftercare here I’m afraid, he thinks it’s best to leave her alone, getting in his chair to game, taking one long last look at his cum seeping from her hole, his handprint red across her ass, still looking so pretty even with all those bruises… maybe even inspired to go for another round.

SHINSO HITOSHI

Aww. Little kitty is at her breaking point? The collar is too tight for Master’s precious pretty pet? Pussy-cat wants a break? But good kittens deserve good toe-curling eye-crossing world-shattering rewards, and bad kittens will be punished however Master chooses, won’t they? If she screams no, he’ll hear yes. If she screams stop, he’ll hear more. If she screams please, well… he’ll still hear please… It’s so unbearably cute to see her stutter and frustrate over how her words come out all wrong, as if someone’s picked her brain, pulled on her strings as though she were a puppet, changed what she wants to say, to what he wants to hear. What’s even cuter is when those large eyes of hers go all ditzy, crossing paths, that crinkle between her brows furrowing, with her tongue falling over her lips. But, the cutest thing is when her tail wraps around his thigh and leg, holding onto him in such a soft embrace when her bliss strides over her body, reaching all the way to the tip of her plushy soft tail, when her wrists and ankles are too busy being kept tied snug and firm together, as he continues to slam himself fast-forwardly into her.

He’ll erase his mind-tricks afterwards, careful to restore anything he might have disturbed or broken during their playtime. Her fluffy tail still slithered around his thigh as he pets her over her soft ears, telling her what a good little kitten she is and how proud she’s made him, feeling her shiver and jolt against him, small little spasms followed by short acute hiccups, proof of how bendable those so-called limits are when Hitoshi takes control. Proof of how good he can make her feel, so good she loses track of where she is, so good she loses contact with her mind, so good the only thing she’s still able to do is purr.

TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS

Oh… She can’t blame him when his rut rolls around the corner. He can’t control those urges. Not when she’s there, so plain and defenseless and a perfect fit for him to take all that cooped up frustration out on. He just needs to fill her each and every crevice up with his seed, make sure she’s well bred, pump her full of his cum until his balls no longer have anything left to give. He’ll hump like a frenzied pup, hands gripping her hips so tight her feet don’t even touch the ground. He’ll pound until he’s exhausted, until she’s left a swollen sweat-slicked mess, no longer able to stand straight without her weak and wobbly knees giving out beneath her. She wishes his rut and her heat could line up, so she doesn’t have to go through the same thing twice, but she isn’t that lucky, and Keigo is. He’ll be counting down the days until finally picking up those sweet tones in the air, that aroma that makes him go feral. She does him a favor by acting so shy, so ashamed, it makes it that much more fun when she’s struggling against both him and herself. All it takes is for him to put his thumb in her mouth… how she’ll begin to drool at the very first taste, her eyes losing that feral fight and falling prey to the feeling of her nerves being set on fire. He gladly indulges her needs, his heart fluttering at how clingy she becomes, how sweet, blubbering out gibberish, shapeless words that are such a good replacement for what vile things she’ll yell at him most other times.

He’ll be so hungry in the mornings after, disappointed for the lack of food in the house, but he can’t blame his darling for not cooking, not when he’s rendered her lame, she can’t very well cook if she can’t stand. He’ll order so much take-out the smell of sweat and juices soon gets coated and overwhelmed by the smell of spice and broth. Eating, regaining all his strength… that was only day one of two weeks… the rut is only just beginning.

MIDORIYA IZUKU - DEKU

Don’t worry, Izuku knows how much to give and how much to take, just as he knows when to give it and when to take it, and how to give and how to take. He knows what punishment is due for what crime as well as he knows when rewards are in order. And if he so happens to need to punish her… he’ll make sure she does something in need of punishment. It’s not often he needs to act on those sadistic carnal vulgar yearnings, but a bad day gets a whole lot better if he can come home and take it out on someone, especially when he gets to play with her beforehand, poke and prod until she slips up, allowing him to pounce on her the second she fucks up like a fox finally done playing with his food, his little bunny. The ends justify the means after all. He knows that it’s unfair to take his frustration out on his little darling… but… it being wrong… somehow makes it feel better. Having her blubbering on choked sobs and quaking beneath him, under his blood-soaked scarred hands, her little hole serving as such a snug and no doubt painful fit for his cock to abuse. Hearing her apologize for doing absolutely nothing at all, just to satiate his craze, all because he decided he wanted to exercise his dominance.

One thing that’s good about Izuku is that once is enough, and though that one time might feel like a million times stretching over a million days, where she’s left unable to walk properly… once he’s done, she can be sure he’s done… at least until the next day. If she hasn’t passed-out, he’ll let her cry it off when he’s done, offering no words but still comforting her by stroking her back or fiddling with her hair, twirling it about his fingers as she rests on his chest, her tears making his bicep itch with irritation, but he’ll allow her that much.

CHISAKI KAI - OVERHAUL

He tries being sweet, he tries being gentle, he tries mimicking the same type of softness as his darling bestows upon him, yet… although she’s sweet, she’s also so aggravatingly reluctant, and Kai doesn’t have the time nor the patience to second-guess every single little thing he wants to do. It’s impractical, it’s wasteful, it’s stupid, and stupidity as we know is a disease he can’t risk being infected with. No, better then, for him to just take the lead, for him to make the decisions for her, for him to decide her limits, up to him to decide when she’s ready to take his cock, how fast and hard he can thrust into her, how tight he can grip her wrists when she starts pushing at him, how many bruises are too many, how many times she can cum. Besides, if things go too far… he knows how to piece her together again. He hasn’t studied every single detail of her just to let all that valuable information go to waste. He’ll see to it that she’s as good as new once their done, if not, maybe even better, maybe even less reluctant to give into what he wants next time, maybe a bit more respectful of the rules, maybe a bit more understanding of who there is the boss and who there is the brittle brainless little toy.

Pain is a good cleanser anyway, despite it being bloody and gory and mixed in with tears and drool and snot and whatever else may occur once the need for his quirk arrives after his aggression causes something to bruise or break. She might think that it’s cruel that healing her has to hurt more than the wound itself, but what she needs to learn is that prosperity always comes at a price, a price that he’s all too willing to pay when she fails to live up to her potential.

TODOROKI SHOTO

Limits are made to be broken, to be conquered, in order for us to prosper. She should be grateful she at least gets the liberty to be with the one she loves, the one who loves her. She should at least be grateful that it’s not just anyone who’s breaking her limits, but him. Him and his hands and his tongue and his cock and his frostbite and his flames and his smile and his biting laughter. She knows by now that there is no stopping him when he starts, she knows that her only hope is to wait for herself to achieve that opium-blown ecstasy and ride that insanity where her skin feels like fire and her insides like ice and every touch, no matter how feather-light or how brutish and bruising, is god’s touch.

Shoto is unprecedentedly thorough and dreadfully talented at aftercare. While his darling is lying all limp and numbed-down, holding onto the prickling feeling dancing like fire-ants on her skin, she can barely even capture the feeling of Shoto wrapping her up in a fuzzy robe. His cold lips pressing onto her forehead and by the time she comes to, when she finally and woefully breaches the surface and gets reeled back into reality, right when she’s at the verge of collapsing from having all her hormones crash, her adrenaline fizzing out into nothing and she’s left feeling all cold and so dreadfully sad, Shoto’s right there, making her feel warm and appreciated and safe. He’ll light candles, scented with rosehip, he’ll already have picked out a movie, he’ll have the chocolate ready, the tea brewing in their matching cups, swiftly braiding her hair into a neat loose setup to keep it from falling into her face as he knows she’s much too drained to lift her hand, resting between his legs, her head using his chest as a headrest. If he’s being honest, he isn’t quite sure what he loves more, the play-session or the aftercare, all he knows is that one is impossible without the other… yet again proving the importance of balance.

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

[pondering-and-wondering]

Rough Day

Daniel Brühl x Reader

I wrote this for a friend who had a shitty day and i hope i can brighten it just a little

Word Count:1669

Warnings: Its kinda sad and like some angst and depictions of anxiety, but there is also lots of fluff too. Also reader thinks someone might break into their home. Also poor writing 

Things just weren’t going your way. From the big to small, everything just had to go a little bit wrong. Most of the time you could handle it, one or two things bugging you? You could handle that no sweat, but today was just something else.

  It was disgustingly hot and humid, with no breeze to relieve you from the hot rays of the sun. Your friends had flaked out on you for the third time in a row, and you were starting to feel unwanted. You knew logically they weren’t avoiding you, and if they were they certainly weren’t worth your time, but that never alleviated the sting you felt getting the text informing you of their cancellation. To go along with that you could feel a cold tickling the back of your throat, not enough for you to consider yourself sick, but enough to know what was to come. Even with that, there was a chance you could handle it if it wasn’t for the fact that your biggest support system wasn’t even with you. 

Your fiancé, Daniel, had been out filming for the past two months, and being away from him made you feel so much worse. He was in a different time zone than you, and though it wasn’t impossible to call, it made it way more difficult, and calls had to be brief, Besides, you couldn’t have him worrying over you, he was stressed with this role as it was and you didn’t want to feel like a burden.

But no matter how bad you felt, physically, emotionally, or mentally, you still had to get your groceries in the car and your dinner made at home. After packing your groceries into the trunk, you started the car, grateful to feel the cool breeze of the air conditioning hit your body.      

  You took it slow on the drive home, trying to calm all your thoughts. The last thing you needed was to get in an accident because you were lost in your thoughts, that would just be the icing on the cake, wouldn’t it? You did manage to make it back home, car-wreck-free, but now came lugging everything to the door and putting it all away. It wasn’t as much food as you would get with the both of you in the house, but dammit you felt like shit and didn’t want to do it. You took one deep breath, squeezing the steering wheel before stepping out into the blazing heat to get everything in the house. It was honestly ten feet to travel, but it felt ten miles. You knew logically you were exaggerating everything in your mind, but you couldn’t help it. 

The heat was eating away at you, you thought all your friends hated you, you could feel the sickness coming on, and you were all alone.

And that loneliness was the absolute killer. 

After putting everything away, all you could bring yourself to do was wrap yourself up in a blanket and weep. Everything poured out of you like a broken damn, every emotion you had been bottling up to get through your mundane day exploded out uncontrollably. You couldn’t even bring yourself to make it to your bed, you were stuck sobbing on the couch.

All of a sudden you heard jingling keys and panic struck your heart. Did you drop your keys outside your door bringing things in? Did someone follow you? You were too weak to defend yourself, could you get a knife in time? Could you call 911 in time? Were you about to die? With all these thoughts swarming your head, yourself growing more paranoid by the minute, you couldn't move. You were frozen in fear, that is until a familiar voice rang through your home.

“Princesa! We wrapped early and I wanted to surprise you I’ve come bearing your favorite ice cream from our favorite spot!” called Daniel from the door, not yet seeing your disheveled state. You had wanted to see him so bad, but now that he was here, you didn’t want him to see you like this. A complete disaster over what felt like nothing. 

You didn’t respond when he called for you, even though it was your favorite nickname of his for you. “Are you not home, Princesa? I thought I saw your car in the garage” he called out once more, and once again you didn’t respond. You heard him open the freezer to put on the ice cream, you knew he would find his way to the living room at some point but you were holding out hope, hiding deeper in the blanket so you couldn’t see outside of it.

You could hear his footsteps around the house, and soon enough they approached the couch. “ My love, what are you doing? I thought I was supposed to surprise you, no?” he chuckled softly, gently patting your back. Just feeling your touch broke you once more, you gripped the blankets to try and hold it back, your fists trembling, but a loud sob escaped from your bundle. 

Daniel’s smile immediately faded, and he went to work unwrapping you from your cocoon so he could at the very least see your face. Your eyes were red and puffy from crying, your cheeks wet from the tears and your nose slightly runny. “ Tell me what is the matter (y/n), was my surprise unwelcome? No, it was not that, you have been crying for longer than that, please my love, talk to me” he whispered gently to you, wiping the tears from your face with a soft swipe of his thumb.

“I-it feels like everything, I just feel like shit, I feel blah, everything is Blah, and no one likes me and I don't even know why you like me and i-i just… my brain is just…. Too much. It’s all way too much” you blurted out to him, wiggling your arms free to cling onto him. 

Daniel knew you could have your moments, and this was one of them, self-doubt was a bitch and sometimes it got the better of his best girl. He brought his hand up to your head, giving your temples a gentle massage. “While I may not know all of the circumstances, I do know one thing, you are loved by plenty of people, and I would argue myself the most. You think so much, and while that can be a blessing, it can also make you feel like this, and while it is not an ideal feeling, you are allowed to feel it. I will never allow you to feel unloved, that is not allowed one bit, but you can feel… as you say ‘blah”.... And I will be here to take care of you, si?” He asked and you sighed shakily, nodding your head.

Daniel pulled you all the way in his lap, rubbing your back and occasionally rubbing your bum in a loving manner. He knew you loved that and it calmed you down, and right now he needed you to be calm. He whispered sweet nothings in your ear, and even if you wanted to, he would not let you forget that he was here for you and here to love you.

Each affirmation was punctuated by kisses to your ears, kisses to your temple, kisses to your cheeks, and lips, and forehead and anywhere that you could be kissed. 

His hands had always had the distinct ability to feel where you were tense and work it out, and they did just that. 

“ how about I take you upstairs, Princesa? You can wear one of my shirts and we can take a nice nap together” he suggested, and of course, you nodded your agreement. He scooped you up, still in your burrito of a blanket, and took you upstairs, placing you on the bed of your room and unwrapping you. “ I missed you a lot… I think next time you’re away filming I’ll go with you, I don’t care if I miss work” you mumbled to Daniel, who was taking great care in undressing you and redressing you in one of his shirts. 

“ I would rather like that, I missed you too, it was quite torturous to be away from you if I am to be honest” he noted, having finished changing you and having moved on to change for himself, a simple t-shirt and underwear sufficing for himself. You nodded and shimmied underneath your covers, the sheets smelling of him due to the fact that you had sneakily sprayed plenty of his cologne on the bed once he left. 

He crawled in after you and pulled you into him, letting your face snuggle into his armpit, which considering the heat of the outside world, smelled heavenly. He buried his nose in your hair, taking in the fact that you were back together, and pulled you in closer.

“You’re my everything Princesa, you know that? And you deserve the world, and you are just as valuable as, if not more valuable than everyone else? And that shitty people’s opinions of you don’t matter because they can ‘come mierda’ if they have anything to say to you?” he asked quietly, an odd thing for him to say, but something you valued regardless. “I know Daniel, it’s just hard for me to remember that sometimes… you know that” you replied and he shook his head a bit “ that I do know, just as you know that I am here to remind you of your value and worth as a beautiful human, now let’s take a rest, yeah? We can catch up properly after.”

You nodded your head, snuggling even closer to him and holding onto him tight, letting yourself drift off in his arms.

It was a rough day, a pretty shitty one too. But having Daniel as a reminder that you were deserving of love, and that you were so much more than how others may view you, made it just a bit better.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 287: Family Reunion

Previously on BnHA: The Tomura For One VS Deku And Pals clusterfuck reached new levels of clustfuckery as AFO possessed Tomura’s body and stabbed Kacchan and Endeavor. Shouto was all “good thing I leveled up offscreen so as to be able to fly around whilst carrying 400lbs worth of people”, and did just that and it was like, damn, son. Meanwhile Deku’s rage went Mach 100, and he kicked Tomura’s ass for almost two whole seconds, but in the process he apparently forgot that IF TOMURA TOUCHES HIM THAT IS VERY BAD, and so he stupidly let Tomura touch him and Tomura was all “GAME, SET.” Fortunately for Deku, his quirk plays by its own rules, and so the chapter ended with us cutting to the METAPHYSICAL OFA/AFO PARANORMAL DREAMSCAPE OF MYSTICAL BULLSHIT, where AFO!Vestige was all “lol Tomura y u mad”, and Nana!Vestige was all “SUP DEKU, YOU’RE JUST IN TIME, LOOKS LIKE IT’S ASSKICKING O’CLOCK.” I’m paraphrasing a bit, but that’s more or less the gist of it.

Today on BnHA: AFO is all “well if it isn’t Tomura’s grandmother who I murdered that one time”, and Deku is all “?”, and AFO is all “fucking vestiges, man, wild”, and Deku is all “??”, and AFO is all “ANYWAYS GETTIM TOMURA”, and OFA is all “NOT SO FAST”, and Deku is all “???”, and really, same. AFO then goes off on some wild tangent about how Deku is unworthy because he couldn’t protect everyone and needed help from OFA and got mad about his friends being stabbed, which is such a cold take it gave me hypothermia, but it ends up not mattering since Deku and Tomura both wake up seconds later with OFA still in the possession of its rightful owner, HOW ABOUT THAT. The chapter ends with the LoV approaching on Gigantomachia’s back with Dabi practically salivating at the mouth, and Toga trying to reignite an old fandom blood feud. Toga why would you do this to me. Toga.

YESSSSSSSSSSSSS

[CROWD LOSING THEIR MINDS] FINALLY THE NANA HAS COME BACK TO BNHA!! IF YA SMELLLLL WHAT THE NANA IS COOKIN!!!!! [RINGSIDE BELL CHIMING WILDLY] [LOUD AIRHORN NOISES]

“chapter 287: mistake” omg. yeah I’ll say you made a mistake, AFO. I HOPE YOU ENJOY THESE FLEETING LAST MOMENTS OF YOUR SHITTY EVIL LIFE

(ETA: so in all seriousness this must be referring to AFO’s belief that All Might/OFA made a mistake in choosing Deku, right? “I can’t believe you went and chose this shounen manga protagonist as your champion, what were you thinking.” I’ll just put this out there: however many comic books AFO read as a child, it clearly was not enough.)

wow Deku how slow are you

yes you’re inside OFA you dimbulb, did you think your clothes suddenly vanished out of the blue and the ghost of Nana just randomly appeared in the real world by some freak coincidence?? can you believe this kid. breaks his arms a measly 10-15 times in a row and all of a sudden he can’t think straight, get it together Deku

but also brb having a moment at the fact that his thoughts immediately run back to Kacchan, even with all of this nonsense going on and Nana about to lay the beatdown on AFO’s potato-lookin’ ass. forget that noise, all he wants to know is whether or not Kacchan is all right. fuckin’ geez. AM I OVERREACTING HERE A BIT. probably

(ETA: ALSO!! the way he just trails off!! “Kacchan is...” and then he can’t bring himself to complete the thought. oh my god my heart.)

HOLY SHIT

okay,

damn but this man sure knows how to ruffle my feathers. as eminently detestable as ever!!

could it be any clearer here that AFO is not on Tomura’s side?? for a moment I thought he had actually grabbed him by the back of the head in order to get him to look. but nope, he’s just resting his pointing hand on top of his head instead while he’s all “HEY TOMURA LOL IT’S THE GHOST OF YOUR DEAD PATHETIC GRANDMA”

for those keeping track at home, this would be the first time that Deku has heard this information -- that Tomura is Nana’s grandson -- and possibly the first time Vestige!Nana has heard it as well. Nana died when Kotarou was still a child, so for all we know the Vestige!Nana didn’t even know she had a grandson, lol. TODAY ON “MAKESTE RANTS AT LENGTH ABOUT THINGS THAT WILL PROBABLY BE ADDRESSED WITHIN THE NEXT THREE PANELS”, anyway moving on

lmao for the record I fucking LOLed at this giant question mark immediately bubbling up over Deku’s head

no idea what AFO is about to ramble on about now, haven’t read that far yet. but let the record show that Deku’s immediate reaction to hearing “BTW NANA IS YOUR ARCHNEMESIS’S GRANDMA LULZ” is everything I could have hoped for

(ETA: fandom nailed the shit out of this one with the confused Mr. Krabs meme lmao.)

okay so now AFO is monologuing at length about how he would sometimes have “riveting dreams” about the previous owners of all the quirks he stole. but once he gave the quirks away they stopped bothering him?? holy moly let me just take all the notes

okay so he’s saying that Vestiges are created whenever someone has their quirk stolen by AFO. but if they then disappear when he gives the quirks away, does that also mean that whoever receives the quirks also gets the original owner’s Vestige bundled in every time?? that would be wild okay hold up let me read the rest of this

so he’s saying that the Vestiges are actually the “consciousnesses” of the original quirk owners, which have become embedded in their dna or something. SOUNDS INCREDIBLY DUBIOUS TO ME LOL but on the other hand this is a world where children can be born with airplane heads, so my disbelief can hardly afford to pick and choose what it’s gonna be suspended at! anyways though, how does he know he’s the only one who was able to converse with them? did you conduct detailed six-month follow-up interviews with everyone you gave quirks to or what

and if it really is the case that this ability was formerly exclusive to him, isn’t that more evidence than ever that OFA and AFO are actually THE EXACT SAME QUIRK oh whoops am I getting ahead of myself again, sorry

MEANWHILE TOMURA IS ALL, “GRANDMA?”

“WHY AM I HERE, WELL LET ME TELL YOU A STORY, GRANDSON. YOU SEE THAT MAN GROWING OUT OF YOUR RIBCAGE THERE? WELL IT’S JUST THE FUNNIEST THING, ACTUALLY”

WAIT SO IS HE SAYING THEY’RE SOULS OR NOT??

this makes it sound like they won’t ever get to rest, which sure sounds like a soul thing to me. well whatever, soul, consciousness, I guess it’s just semantics at the end of the day

anyways though, so this asshole is finally done talking (I’m sure that won’t last), so now we can finally have the heartwarming reunion we’ve all been waiting for

sigh

-- actually, no, not “sigh”!! you know what!! because Tomura says “whatever the reason”, but that’s only because he doesn’t actually have a fucking clue about the reason. like, I don’t know if the knowledge that AFO killed Nana would be enough to give him pause, but if he knew the whole story and knew that AFO was behind not only Nana’s death, but the rest of his family’s deaths as well... now that would be a whole different thing

anyway. but at least it’s becoming clearer now why AFO spent all that time raising Tomura up as his heir and brainwashing him even though he seems to have been planning this body takeover the whole time. it’s all because he loves making people miserable! yaaaaay

btw HAS NANA HAD THE EXACT SAME MOLE ON HER CHIN AS TOMURA THIS ENTIRE TIME WTF. am I just the least observant person who ever lived lmao

lol wtf

ground: [randomly starts exploding]

Deku: “ONE FOR ALL IS BEING ERODED!!!” LOL IS THAT WHAT’S HAPPENING HERE, OKAY THEN. I’ll take your word for it

y’all I cannot fucking get over this “AFO growing out of Tomura’s hip socket like a fucked-up ventriloquist dummy” shit though

you do realize that absolutely no one can take you seriously right now, right?? it’s important to me that you know this

WHAT’S THIS NOW

seems like SOMEONE has had it up to here with a certain SOMEONE ELSE’S bullshit lmaooo bye Felicia

I SAID GOOD DAY!!

you guys why is he not dying!!

-- OH DAMN

love how Deku is just lying there like “YOU KNOW THOSE DAYS WHERE YOU’RE LIKE, THIS MIGHT AS WELL HAPPEN.” poor Deku

(ETA: where in god’s name is OFA Prime standing. why are my thoughts fully consumed by this lmao.)

are Nana and OFA Prime even doing anything?? why are they sticking their arms out like that. wait hold up is this all a big metaphor for the back-and-forth going on between Tomura trying to steal OFA and OFA being all “actually no you can’t, please enter your password and click on all the boxes with bicycles in them to prove you’re a human first”?

OH SNAP OFA PRIME SAID NO THANKS

“SORRY BRO WE’VE ALREADY MADE OURSELVES AT HOME HERE”

I have only just noticed that metaphysical!Deku has the same scars as actual!Deku. and yet his arms are not currently broken! that doesn’t really seem consistent to me but whatever!! maybe he saved right before the boss battle, that would be smart of him

anyway, that’s great and all that OFA Prime is here helping out, but I really wanted to see Nana fight AFO in a one on one though so I’m a bit disappointed. also why is it only the two of them?? where are Banjou and the others. of all the times to be sleeping on the job

FOR FUCK’S SAKE, THIS MAN

WOULD YOU STOP. WOULD YOU JUST QUIT IT ALREADY

oh shit hold up

doesn’t this confirm that the reason he wanted to transfer his power to Tomura is because he believed it would make him strong enough to finally take OFA because of Quirk Singularity? jesus christ. and here he was so sure of himself. but it turns out he doesn’t actually know shit! you can’t just fucking take OFA like that ya dingdong that’s not how it works

(ETA: SO, A THOUGHT -- is there any sort of subtle hinting here in the way that he words this? “if your strength is combined with mine”, as opposed to “if my strength is combined with yours”? no idea if the admittedly-so-small-as-to-be-almost-inconsequential distinction between those two sentences exists in the original Japanese or not, but I find it very interesting that the English wording implies that he’s the one adding Tomura’s strength to his own, rather than vice versa.)

now he’s insulting Deku!!

excuse me sir WHO ASKED YOU anyway. and never mind that being consumed by an, AND I QUOTE, “unquenchable” rage is your protege’s whole THING, and that he also needed your help to avoid being burned to a crisp a short while ago. where do you get off I swear

(ETA: also just want to point out that in the panel before this one he says that he’s been “watching through Tomura”, which pretty much confirms that his consciousness or whatever is alive inside of him all the time. Tomura is definitely not getting rid of this guy any time soon.)

WOW

first he calls Kacchan useless, then he calls Deku a simpleton, and don’t even get me started with Nana. just, you guys. this man is just... a very, very rude man

NOW OFA IS ALL “THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT MAKES HIM SUCH A GOOD PROTAGNIST YOU BUTTMUNCH” AND OMG PREACH

“DESPITE HIS COMMON SENSE” sdfkllk my man he already has one brother roasting him, take it easy guy

AHH WHAT

IS THIS BACK IN THE REAL WORLD

YEP

hahaha nice try Tomura

so Deku’s all “I didn’t lose my power! BUT” and I assume the “but” is the part where his arms are still broken and shit, and meanwhile Tomura’s body is almost healed up now finally

they’re both wiped out and now AFO is again petitioning Tomura to let him take over goddammit

“you won’t lose your mind” yep, he sure won’t! scout’s honor!! pinky swear!!

meanwhile Deku is getting fucking desperate flkjl;k my baby. and Machia is going to show up any second now too, probably. what else can fucking go wrong at this point

oh shit I shouldn’t have asked

get ready to rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrruuuumble, probably

OH MY GOD

WELL AT LEAST SOMEONE HERE IS HAVING A GOOD TIME. jesus

so as soon as he heard Endeavor was there he got all, “TIME FOR THE BIG REVEAL”, is that right? WELL JOKE’S ON YOU TOUYA, YOUR DAD DOESN’T SEEM ALL THAT CONSCIOUS AT THE MOMENT, SO THAT’S GOING TO DRAIN A LOT OF THE TENSION FROM THE SCENE WHEN YOU GO ALL REVERSE DARTH VADER ON HIM AND HE’S ALL “ZZZZZZZZ”

meanwhile Toga is having unsettlingly quiet angst

jesus christ Toga this is all we need right now

“WAS JIN-KUN NOT A PERSON” sdkfjlk Horikoshi I swear. please have mercy on this fandom. this is the debate that refuses to die!!

but seriously ffs, the issue isn’t that Jin deserved to die, it’s that the countless people whom Jin would have either directly or indirectly killed didn’t deserve to die either. people don’t only become people when you attach names and faces to them! we all loved Jin because we’d gotten to know him, but that doesn’t mean his life was inherently worth more than the lives of all the people he would have killed. sometimes there’s just no good answer

like, it’s just crazy to me that because the heroes are all “we want to protect everyone!” but then aren’t always able to do so because that’s literally impossible, whereas the villains are all “we don’t care about anyone other than the select few people that we actually like!”, the villains somehow wind up getting the better PR. it just so happens that it’s infinitely easier to be loyal to the interests of a few people as opposed to ALL THE PEOPLE. like, no shit, it’s easier to stick to your moral code when you barely have a moral code. and so the villains can kill thousands and no one bats an eye, but if a hero fails to save even one person they’re hypocritical moral failures. like what the hell

BUT ANYWAY, sorry to go off on a tangent there lol, it’s not really a big deal. I’m just preemptively trying to stave off more discourse about it lol but who am I even kidding

anyways lol, but of course they won’t kill you unless they have no choice, Toga. but when it comes to catch-22 situations, it’s a bit much to infer that the heroes don’t consider the villains people just because they opt for the choice that spares more innocent lives. I sure as hell don’t want my babies out here killing people, but to say that they can’t no matter what or else they’re no different from the villains is just...

anyway so the chapter has now just ENDED, just like that!! on a shot of Ochako’s face!

I SENSE ANOTHER THROWDOWN COMING. and it had better not be a total letdown like the last one! NANA BARELY DID ANYTHING HORIKOSHI, WHAT THE FUCK. I started out with such high hopes lol

but I will settle for Toga VS Ochako, and Deku VS Tomura: The Sequel: Shouto’s Revenge! SPEAKING OF HEROES WHO HAVE NO QUALMS ABOUT MURDERING PEOPLE lmao

[songbirdstyles]

early risers

summary: harry gets bored, sometimes, waking up at the crack of dawn - but he can always find a way to entertain himself somehow.

warnings: smut, fluff, 18+ only please

Harry has discovered that he much prefers to wake up at the same time as the sun.

It creeps above the horizon, painting the sky a glorious array of pinks and oranges and, sometimes, he sits up and bed and just watches, beyond mesmerized at the sight of the world lighting up. His hair is a mess and he’s chilly, the blankets falling around his lap, but there’s nothing greater than seeing the night bleed into day.

At the ripe age of 26 and nearly 10 years into his career, he doesn’t need to remember to set an alarm before he goes to sleep so he wakes to catch the sunrise every morning. His body forces him up at that time - assuming, of course, he goes to bed before 12 - trained from years of rehearsals and recordings and everything else. So Harry goes to sleep, wrapped around his lover, thinking of nothing else but the girl in his arms and the magnificent landscape he’ll view the next morning.

But you - you don’t like waking up that early. You’ve always preferred late nights to early mornings and dusk to dawn, so you have no problem sleeping until your alarm blares for you to riseat around 9 or 10. Sometimes - if you’ve been working late, or you were tired or Harry wore you out the night before - he’ll turn off your alarm after you’ve fallen asleep. Just to give you more of the rest that your body craves.

And now, you’re asleep beside him. Lying on your stomach, covers pulled up taut to your shoulders, protecting your body from the chill of the bedroom air. It’s approaching March but it’s still cold in London and therefore cold in your house no matter how much you crank up the thermostat. Neither of you particularly mind. Cuddling with each other at night, piling in warm blankets and sipping on mugs of steaming tea always provides you with heat that the house lacks.

Harry gazes down at you for a moment. Your hair is a mess, spread out over your pillow, and he reaches out to brush against one of the strands. The sky, beginning to light up in an array of red toned hues, casts its colors on your skin. You look beyond peaceful, your head turned toward the side and facing away from him, but the only sound in the room is your soft, even breaths.

He truly can’t get enough of you, sometimes. Or all the time.

His fingers trail from your hair to tracing down your neck, feeling your warm skin under his touch. In your sleep, you hum softly, shifting just a bit, and his hand pauses its trek down your body. He doesn’t truly want to wake you - not yet. He knows you don’t like to be up as early as he does, although he’s tried to drag you out of bed numerous times to watch the sunrises with him. You agreed out of virtue of wanting to spend time with him but within moments of sitting up your body had slumped into his, fast asleep with his arms wrapped around you as the golden sun started to send its rays into your bedroom.

When you don’t move again he continues to drag his finger down your shoulders and down your back, moving the covers slowly off of you. He uses his other hand to push them down to bunch around your waist, and he watches goosebumps pop up over your skin. 

Poor baby, Harry thinks, pressing his palm down on your back to try and alleviate some of the cold. But feeling bad for the lack of heat isn’t enough to get him to pull the covers back up, to remove his hands from your body, so he keeps going down. Palm moving along your back, trailing lower and lower until he feels the swell of your bum against the edge of his palm.

And this is where he pauses, resting his hand against your lower back and leaning down to press his lips to the top of your head. Because he could stop now - lie back down and wrap his body around yours, wrapping your thick blankets around the both of you and doze off for a little while. But he doesn’t truly want to, nor does his painfully hard morning wood, practically throbbing as his pinky begins to climb over the curve of your ass.

You had both agreed that waking each other with oral was okay. He remembered that. You’d never really done it before, mostly because Harry didn’t like to wake you up so early. But - well. The options are either waking you now and getting both of you off or doing it himself.

He’s always been a charitable guy, so he shifts on the bed and tugs the covers all the way off your body.

Harry’s mouth practically waters at the sight of your entire naked body laid out on the bed - again, you shift just ever so slightly in your sleep and your legs spread just a bit and he can’t help himself, now.

He crawls to the bottom of the bed, placing both hands on your inner thighs, wincing at the contrast of cold and warm skin - and then he pulls your legs apart more, exposing your sweet peach to him. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your thigh and leading soft pecks closer to where he really wants to be.

Inhale. The scent is fucking intoxicating, and he thinks he could spend all day just smelling you. It’s unfair, how spectacular you smell. Not half as good as you taste, though, and he squeezes your thigh in a premature apology before leaning his face in and licking a stripe all the way up your slit.

Now he waits, just a moment, pressing his cheek against your thigh. (His stubble brushes against your soft skin and he regrets not shaving last night but he knows, deep down, you love the burn on your thighs after he goes down on you.) You don’t react at all though perhaps he can imagine a small hitch in your breathing at the feel of his tongue on you. He doesn’t dwell on it, though, just dives back in to you.

His tongue darts down to your clit, flicking the bud a few times before he moves his head down to wrap his lips around it - he sucks softly, just the way he knows you love, and if you were awake he can imagine the way your hands would be twisting in his hair, your moans breathy and high pitched. He could go down on you for hours if only for how deliciously hot your reactions were to every little thing he did. He had the art perfected down to a T.

One hand massaged your outer thigh and the other crept its way in between your thighs, parting your lips just slightly so he could push his tongue towards your hole, the muscle circling it a few times before dipping inside ever so slightly. He savors the flavor on his taste buds, and his hips rut against the bed to alleviate some of the tension building up.

He’s so turned on he feels like he could explode but no, no, he has to wait. Just a few more minutes until you’re awake and cumming into his mouth and then he can fuck you, slow and soft or hard and rough, just depends how you want it and - he swears - he’ll do anything for you right now. Harry is always like putty in your hands but when he’s horny you fucking own him. Even when you’re a crying, writhing mess beneath him, distraught with your sixth orgasm in a row, you control him.

His fingers circle your clit and pinch the sensitive nerve and that’s when he hears it - a soft catch in your breath, and when he looks up at you he can see your fingers ever so slightly clench your pillow. You might not be fully awake, perhaps just thinking you’re having a detailed dream, but you’ll know soon.

Harry’s eyes go back to your pussy, soaked in your arousal, and he takes a moment to gather saliva in his mouth and spit it onto you, watching it drip down to your clit. He presses his lips to the curve of your ass, sucking a hickey into the skin as he uses two fingers to gather the dripping spit and push it into your tight hole and god, it is tight - two fingers is a stretch as it is but he knows your pussy like the back of his hand. You’ll be ready soon, and so he thrusts his fingers in and out of you slowly, listening to the wet noises and the hitches in your breathing and his own soft moans as he rubs his achingly fucking hard cock against the bed. It’s taking too much willpower not to snake his hand down to his dick and get himself off but he wants to wait. 

A kiss to your clit, and then Harry pulls back from sucking a dark mark into your ass and forms his lips into a small ‘o,’ letting out a soft breath onto your cunt. Just like he knew would happen, your body jerks at the sensation. He rests his chin on your thigh and looks up again, smirking as you lift your head off the pillow. Your hand moves to rub your eyes, and then you look down and lock eyes with him.

“G’morning, princess,” he tells you, voice low and husky and resembling something of a growl. He’s still two fingers deep in your cunt and he can feel the gush of wetness around his fingers as you whimper, parting your legs more to give him easier access. “Did I wake you?”

You try to reach your hand down to go for his hair but with the angle it’s a bit difficult - Harry moves his head up anyway, and your fingers grasp the ends of his messy curls. Then you breathe out something resembling a laugh, shaking your head and burying your face back in your pillow so your voice comes out muffled when you murmur, “Like that wasn’t your intenti - holy shit.”

Harry leans in again, lips around your clit and teeth grazing the button. Your legs clench together and he nearly feels suffocated by the brief sensation of being completely enclosed in you but - well, it wouldn’t be the worst way to go. He removes his fingers from your pussy and grips both of your ass cheeks, spreading them apart and pressing a firm kiss in between the center of them. A moan pulls its way from your throat and his cock jumps at the noise.

“Can you cum for me, angel?” he questions, flicking his tongue across your puckered hole as his fingers knead the globes of your ass, but he doesn’t take it further than that. He knows you’re not completely ready for all of that, so he moves his mouth back down to your cunt and rubs his tongue across your clit. “I know you can.”

“Fuck, fuck, Harry.”

“I asked you a question.”

To prove a point he rests his hands on the bed beside you and pulls himself off, removing all traces of his touch from your skin, and you raises your head at the loss of contact. Your eyes are soft and he almost caves and just goes back in to make you cum but, well, he does have to prove a point.

You take a breath and then whine out, voice so breathy like it always is in the morning, “Please make me c-cum, Harry, I fucking need it, I need you -”

But he doesn’t have to be told twice. He buries his face back between your folds, bringing his hand up and slamming it back down on your ass. The noise reverberates through the room and you cry out, biting down on the pillow but he hates that, he needs to hear you scream for him. Needs to know he’s the only one who can make you feel this good. So he reaches up, grabs the pillow from beneath your head and throws it across the room without a care. “Need to hear you, don’t I?”

His tongue is thrusting in and out of you as fast as he can go, fingers rubbing fast, hard circles on your clit until your thighs are trembling and threatening to shut around his head again and his hips are moving against the bed against his own free will. Loud moans and cries fill the room, drowning out the sound of the slaps he’s landing on your cheeks, of his mouth working your cunt desperately, and then you reach down to grip his hair so hard he can feel strands disconnect from his scalp but he can’t bring himself to give a shit.

The moment the coil inside you snaps he can feel it - like a dam breaking, a gush of your sickeningly sweet juices washing over his face and dripping down your thighs, down his wrist, and your thighs are spasming around his head. He pulls his head back to watch you cum, fingers still working circles into your clit, and he’s beyond grateful he did - your hips push back against his fingers, eyes shut and mouth open in a perfect ‘o’ as you moan out. After a moment you reach down to grasp his wrist, trying to pull his hand away from your clit and he obliges, bringing the same hand up to grasp your jaw. Harry moves his body further up the bed, pressing his chest to your back and pressing a wet, open mouthed kiss to your lips - his cock resting hot and heavy on your back and it’s a promise of what’s to come when you’ve gone through a moment of recovery.

“Harry,” you mumble into his mouth,  and he pulls away to press a kiss to the underside of your jaw. “Harry, Harry -”

He hums in response, rubbing your cheek with his hand, and then leans in to give you another kiss. It’s moments like these - in between your mind blowing orgasm and him about to fuck your brains out - that reminds him, more than anything, why he’s so in love with you. Why he can’t imagine himself with anyone else.

You shift, then, pushing yourself to your knees, the stickiness of your cum just a bit uncomfortable, and he groans at the feeling of his dick shifting from its spot on your back. “Can you fuck me now?”

The soft moment ends, and he pauses for a fraction of a second before pushing himself back up to his knees. His hand wraps around his cock firmly, and his other one reaches down to grasp the back of you neck. Not too tight but not too light and he can see how much you love it, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to make the angle easier for him and he doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t try to ease you into it, just slams the length of his cock into your dripping, sensitive cunt, filling you completely and the shriek you release sounds like fucking heaven.

He grunts as he bottoms out, grasping your thigh so hard he knows he’ll see the finger shaped bruises on your soft skin later on but he knows you love it and, God, he does too. He pulls out of you and then slams back in and for a moment the loudest noise in the room is skin against skin.

That doesn’t last long, though. The groan that rips its way out of his throat soon takes that title, and he knows how you love when he makes noise so he never holds back like he has with other girls. Harry never has to hold anything back with you. You take what he gives you, you love what he does to you and it’s the greatest gift of all.

“Fuck, fuck, harder, baby, please,” your pleads are jagged, your breath faltering and each syllable punctuated with a moan and a cry and he loves that he can fucking do this to you at fucking 7 in the morning. “Oh my god, fuck, I’m gonna - “

“Gonna cum for me?” His face is bright red, grunting out his words through gritted teeth as he fucks you hard, bringing his hand up to smack your ass again and again until your skin is bright pink. He’d entertained the idea of going soft, starting slow with kisses to your neck and listening to your breathy moans but he needs this now and you want it so bad, pushing your hips back into his and begging him to go harder. “Gonna cum for me again like the - like the fucking dirty girl you are?”

You can only nod in response, losing the ability to hold yourself up and your face drops onto the bed, cheek pressed into the mattress that’s moving so much the fitted sheet came off the corner. Your wrist is wrapped under your body, fingers working at your clit and he can feel you clenching around him, pussy pulsing around his cock.

He’s so close - he knew he wasn’t gonna last long but he wants to come with you. Wants to feel you cum together. So he removes his hand from your neck and grips your wrist, pulling it away from your sensitive nub despite your cries of protests and he replaces your fingers with his own, rubbing hard and fast because he knows he can get you off better than you do. 

“Cum for me,” he tells you, and your eyes squeeze shut, pussy fluttering and you’re so close to your orgasm you can fucking taste it. “Cum for me, baby, fucking cum on my cock -”

Harry grips your thighs and pulls your hips flush to his as he empties inside you, just as your pussy clenches around him and you cum for the second time (and it’s only 7:10) with your moans mixing with his desperate grunts as he fills you up, lazily pushing himself in and out to make sure your greedy pussy swallows up every drop he has. And he waits for a moment, not wanting to pull out of the tight confines of your cunt, but after a moment he does, and he collapses beside you.

The two of you stay still for a moment, and then you shift to wrap your body around his. A smile tugs at his lips because even if you’re panting and exhausted and fucked out you still just want him to hold you, so he does - arms around your body pulling you close to him. Sooner rather than later he’ll get up to get you a washcloth but not right now. He needs this peace now, until your breathing has steadied.

“You know,” you begin, and he turns his head to look at you. “I’m not opposed to waking up early anymore if we can start every day like that.”

And Harry just laughs at that. Maybe the sunrise won’t be his only motivation for waking up early anymore.

[imnotgrimimjustagrumpyreaper]

Everything you never thought to ask and never wanted to know about my Josépan playlist/history with and opinions of the ship.

Intro:

The journey of this playlist has been a long one, starting on Amazon Music and my old, janky and now defunct Ipad.

STRAP IN, CHILDREN AS I TAKE YOU BACK TO A MAGICAL TIME WHEN NEITHER LEGENDS OF THE THREE CABALLEROS; NOR THEIR CAMEO IN DUCKTALES HAD BEEN ANNOUNCED YET, MY BLOG ON TUMBLR DIDN’T EXIST (THOUGH I WAS LURKING) AND PANCHITO WAS STILL THE LEAST POPULAR CABALLERO, otherwise known as around late 2017.

A word on the origins of the playlist:

The playlist was not initially Ducktales focused because the two didn’t exist in Ducktales yet. I was rather unenthusiastic back in the day about this ship (oh how the times change) but I had stumbled across a song that didn’t fit them and Donald but fit just them very well and wanted to make an animatic of it. So, I cobbled together some songs I thought fit the vibe and made a playlist.

The history behind the story that inspired it:

I’ll spare you from starting at the very beginning. But, when “The Town Where Everyone was Nice” premiered I was already thoroughly and utterly obsessed with the cabs; I remember how beyond ecstatic I was for the episode. My hype for the Ducktales versions of José and Panchito continued far beyond what seems to have been normal for the average cabs fan. I found myself drawn to the ideas put forth by those versions of them. I don’t really remember what the tipping point was for me to break down and make my own college AU but eventually I did. It was affectionately dubbed “The TV Show That Will Never Happen AU.” José and Panchito were enemies to lovers or at least to friends. And it was around that time I began to go CRAZY with the headcanons as I got more active in the fandom. While my ideas for the Ducktales versions of them grew and grew, so too did the time between them appearing in “The Town Where Everyone was Nice” and their alleged next appearance in the show. When fans noticed the distinct lack of José and Panchito in the season two finale of Ducktales, Francisco Angones, @//suspenderofdisbelief on Tumblr answered these two separate asks that I might have engraved on tombstone one day:

I was GONE for the ship after that. I developed another AU for them based around their time in Baia trying to get people to fund their attempts to become famous musicians. Also, slowly falling in love... It was affectionately titled “The Fan-Comic that Will Never Happen” but not yet connected to my college AU. I don’t have much of a timeline for it after this point, but with that AU I really hit my stride for interpretations of the two characters and their dynamic. The version of them I hold dear in my heart and headcanons came to be. Then “Louie’s Eleven” came out and absolutely destroyed a lot of my headcanons (just kidding, just kidding). Since the new canon material didn’t really jive with a lot of the wholesomeness I had built up I was left with a lot of something else: angst. I LOVE angst, but the two’s bitterness and arguing...It was hard to accept at the time. Me and @cartoon-lizard on Tumblr, my IRL best friend, wound up writing a Josépan fic fueled on a bit of that angst and by her grace, a lot of my headcanons. I titled it “My Reverie is Being Haunted by That Ass.” In it Panchito makes an ass (rimshot noises) of himself by running off with a producer he met by chance during a visit in Duckburg to try to become famous. And doing so without so much as a second thought to the person he’s been living with/sort of dating for over a year. It took me a while but eventually I figured it out. These weren’t three separate AUs, these were three separate pieces of the same AU. And so my masterpiece never meant to be made came to be: “The Trilogy: College/Baia/Reverie.”

“The Trilogy” Itself:

The story will never be written for a variety of reasons, personal and practical. But if it ever were to be written it would be three separate fics, aka: College, Baia and Reverie.

College encapsulates their college years (duh).

To set the stage:

Panchito: A friendly, arrogant and easily excitable musician with big dreams, good grades and a whole lot of anxiety and insecurity. He has complicated feelings towards his identity as both trans and pan and how that might affect his dreams of becoming famous, but is overall bright eyed and innocent enough.

José: A lazy (depressed), charming, pessimistic, tbh kind of a douche and deep in the closet gay man. He tends to push forward a very “Manly man” persona to make up for his own deep seated internalized homophobia brought on by a shitty upbringing. He just got away from said shitty upbringing and doesn’t really have any hopes for his future...Maybe to travel a bit?

José and Panchito start as enemies, both fearing losing their one real friend, Donald, to the other. Despite this the three start a band and the two’s rivalry becomes far more friendly. They get particularly close during the trip down to Acapulco for spring break where the general feeling of being disconnected from life and reality leads to several rather romantic moments between the two...They almost become a thing several times but never quite do. However, they are very good friends by the end of college. The three stay in contact for a while after college but eventually lose touch…

Baia timeskips forward 13 years later (I know it's only 10 canonically, I always say 13 for reasons) to a conversation between Panchito and José on the Sunchaser at the end of “The Town Where Everyone Was Nice.”

Panchito: Life hasn’t been kind to Panchito...His need to be famous, to be something in order to be someone has led him to push a lot of people out of his life so he can better focus on “Work.” Or drive them out by constantly asking for their support, financial or otherwise. He has no friends and even his relationships with his loving and supportive family are strained. Currently, he’s working freelance as a performer at childrens’ birthday parties (in his eyes: a clown) and goes home to a sad, empty apartment every night to stare at a notebook full of half written songs and muster enough energy to eat cereal for dinner for the third time in a row. Needless to say, his optimism is wearing thin.

José: A lot of hard work on his part, some good therapy and mmm; drugs have put him in a pretty good place. He’s more or less got his life together now, is way less of a douche and is more of a realist than a pessimist. He’s also pretty much completely comfortable in his identity as a gay man. He’s been trying to explore romantic relationships, but unfortunately (likely due to the loveless marriage between his parents making him strive so hard to believe that love is real that he puts the unrealistic goal of true love above all else) feels incomplete without one and double unfortunately has a tendency to be drawn to toxicity and abusive situations. So other than a string of (short lived) bad relationships, he’s actually doing great!

Panchito has already asked Donald to drop everything and stay with him down in Baia to try to get funding for the band. Donald said no. José has a steady job, a decent apartment and a supportive friend group back home. He's also long since lost interest and hope in their college dreams of being famous...José says yes. The two have a bunch of wild and wacky shenanigans trying to get funding and both dance around their growing feelings for each other until it explodes and overwhelms them. They rush into a romantic relationship head first with no real ground for it to be built on and unrealistic expectations of what the other can give them. Despite all this, things seem quite happy...for a while…

If you've made it this far, <3, CONT. in pt 2.

[mystic-deep]

“Whipped Cream” - Part 2 | Nanami Kento fem!reader

♡ ♡ ♡ description: Taking cooking classes seemed like a nice way to relax and sharpen your skills, too bad the teacher hates you.

♡ ♡ ♡ warnings: explicit content not suitable for minors, nothing graphic but please be advised, light swearing

♡ ♡ ♡ notes: Here's part 2! Things are starting to move in the right direction. Nothing too explicit though, part 3 will be the first real reason. Hope you enjoy and as always, please forgive any errors and mistakes.

♡ ♡ ♡ previous parts: Part 1

♡ ♡ ♡ word count: 3.4k

The second the doors of the elevator opened you dashed out, your eyes glancing nervously at your hand watch. Your weekly meeting had lasted longer than expected and now you were running late for your cooking class. You couldn’t wait to add another reason for that jerk to pick on you.

As you hurried through the lobby, the receptionist that you met on Monday noticed you and offered a sympathetic smile.

“Good afternoon! Nanami-sensei forgot some documents so he went back to fetch them from his car, you should hurry up before he returns.”

“Thank you!” You grinned at her and quickened your pace towards your classroom. It was good to know that not every staff member here was a devil in disguise.

You practically barged inside the room and for a second everyone looked at you with hopeful eyes, only to shift into disappointment when they realized it wasn’t Nanami. Or was it perhaps the fact that they all hoped you’d quit and they wouldn’t be forced to deal with you anymore.

Ignore them, this time around you wouldn’t lose your temper and become another subject for them to gossip about when the class was over.

With that thought in mind, and hopeless positivity, you scanned the room and realized that your previous working space had been occupied already. The only free space was at the very front row, near Nanami’s desk. Strange, you were sure that was probably the most sought out station, seeing how close you’d be to the chef.

You pushed your worries to the side and took out your apron from the bag before putting it on. Only a few seconds later the door opened again and Nanami stepped inside.

“Good afternoon and sorry for being late.” He offered a small apologetic smile and deep inside you thought that he was actually really pleasant to look at when he wasn’t criticizing your existence.

The smile vanished quickly when his eyes landed on you and you kicked yourself for finding him attractive just a few second earlier.

“Miss Y/n, as you probably noticed, I’ve moved your seat in front of my desk. After the events from last time, I need to supervise you attentively.”

You fought back the urge to argue, knowing full well that this is what he was looking for. Obviously today was a test of patience, to see how much he could push your buttons until you’d explode.

“Oh I don’t mind, Nanami-san.”

“I would like you to address me as Nanami-sensei or chef Nanami during classes.”

“Of course, Nanami-san.”

He shot you and angry look but you beamed at him innocently. You had told your friend that it would me a miracle if he didn’t kill by the end of the week but now your execution seemed right around the corner.

“Let’s start today’s lesson.” Everyone took out their phones and placed them on their working station.

“Today we’ll be making Paris Brest, it’s a very popular French desert. I’ve sent you the list of ingredients and instructions on the group chat, make sure you read them carefully and if there’s something you don’t understand you have 20 minutes to ask your questions. After that we’ll get started.”

Everyone gave a short nod in reply, well everyone except you. Your hand rose up causing Nanami to arch his brow in annoyance. “Yes, what is it.”

“I’m sorry but I’m not part of the group chat so I don’t have the list of ingredients or instructions.”

“That is, unfortunately for you, not my fault. Yamamoto-san is the admin, it was her idea to stop the waste of paper that we usually printed on in favour of sending everything via chat. You’ll have to talk to her.”

He made a short hand gesture towards one of the older women and you realized with distress that it was the old hag that questioned you during the previous lesson. She didn’t even bother to look up from her phone, like you didn’t even exist.

Fine, no point in begging to be added to some group you didn’t even want to be part of. You were sure you could find some recipes on youtube or something.

As the 20 minutes passed and Nanami began to take questions, your hand went up again but this time he ignored you. You frowned and went back to study the recipe you found. You were going to make this work, you were going to nail this desert and bask in the glory of your achievement.

About an hour and a half later all deserts had been finished and they were now presented to the chef for inspection. Nanami had moved from station to station giving advices to everyone and correcting mistakes here and there. He of course never spared you a glance and you had to admit it was starting to hurt. You didn’t know you craved so much for his approval or was it maybe the fact that it pissed you off to be pushed aside in such a way. At the end of the day you were paying for this course, it seemed unfair to be treated in such a manner.

“Right, let’s see what we have here.” He studied your Paris Brest, probably looking for any mistakes that he could judge. “A bit underdone, the bottom is somewhat soggy.” You bit your tongue and looked at him as he cut a small piece from the desert but didn’t taste it like he did with the rest. “I’ve asked for crème praline but instead you filled it with crème patissiere. Are you perhaps unable to follow instructions?”

“I didn’t have the list of ingredients and I didn’t have your instructions so I had to search for the recipe myself.”

“And I told you to ask Yamamoto-san to add you-”

“No, you said to talk to her as though this wasn’t your responsibility at all! Meanwhile you didn’t bother once to stop by my station and correct me even though you saw I was making custard crème.” Your cheeks turned red from frustration and you clutched your hands in small fists.

“If you don’t plan on teaching me anything then at least have the decency to say so! If I wanted to learn recipes from youtube I would have stayed in the comfort of my home without having to pay a dime for this joke of a class.” So much for keeping a cool head and not letting him get to you.

Nanami was a tall man, you noticed the second he first set foot in the classroom and back in the parking lot when you dropped your key. Yet you didn’t realize just how tall he was, at least compared you, until he was looming over you. His blue eyes had turned icy and his lips had tightened in a small, sharp line, a sign that he was barely keeping his anger in check.

“You will stay after class.” Despite not raising his voice even an octave, he said it in such a strong manner, like a divine command. When your mouth opened he sent you the most chilling glare. “You.will.stay.” With that he returned to his desk and you were left to boil in your frustration.

Class ended in what seemed to be mere seconds and everyone hurried out after saying their good byes, probably not wanting to delay you imminent death.

“Now, let’s talk in my office.” He gestured towards a door just a few feet away from his desk and you followed him as he opened it and stepped inside.

His office was quite impressive and you wondered just how much this school was making for him to afford such luxury. The room had large windows with a nice view of the office buildings in the distance, a solid wooden desk with a black leather chair as well as a couch with a modern looking coffee table. On the walls you could see several certificates and degrees that were framed, probably from all the cooking classes he had taken.

“Please take a seat.” He sat in the leather chair and you sat in from of him, legs crossed and eyes narrowed. Whatever the hell he wanted to discuss it had better be quick, you just wanted to go home and take a hot bath and forget about this miserable day.

“It seems that you are not adjusting well to this course so I will speak to management in order to return your money. No point to continue this if you don’t want to be here.”

“Oh no, you will not make this look like it’s my fault.” You sat up so quickly you thought you sat down on a spring. “You have treated me horrible since the very beginning and now you’re angry that I don’t sit quietly and take your abuse.”

“If you think that not praising you for the disastrous bake you did on Monday, a bake that I might add you half assed the whole time and then proceeded to blame everything except yourself, was too harsh for your sensitive self then it just further proves how unsuited you are for my class.” He sat up as well, his expression mirroring your own. “The class is a joke, the students are a joke, I am a joke. It’s all a big joke to you, the successful business woman who has no time to waste on such a silly course.”

You felt waves of anger washing over you but deep down inside what you felt more was sadness. Sure he was part right about what he said, you did look down on your classmates and you did insult him back then in the parking lot. Still, it wasn’t that you thought so highly of yourself, it was the opposite actually. Your self-doubt sky rocketed when he pointed all the flaws of your cookies and you couldn’t stand the way those women had chuckled gleefully in the background. Of course, you’d rather eat your fist than to admit to all of that.

“I don’t think this class is a joke and I have nothing against my classmates, it’s just that some of them don’t want me here. As for yourself, you’ve treating me differently than the rest of the class so the problem here is you not me.” You crossed your arms and looked at him in a defiant way. “Rather than returning my money, I want to be moved to a different course where someone else will properly teach me.”

He couldn’t have looked more shocked or upset if you had punched him in the face. This must had been for him the ultimate insult, for you to suggest that his teaching was bad and that someone else could do a better job. Truthfully, you weren’t questioning his skill as a teacher, just that you two obviously couldn’t get along. You weren’t sure that the point came across though.

“You insolent little-” He stopped himself and took a deep breath, clearly fighting the urge to strangle you. “You are absolutely impossible to deal with.”

“No, it’s you who just doesn’t know how to deal with me and I have had enough. There is nothing you can teach me.” With that you grabbed your bag in which you had previously stuffed your apron and hurried towards the door. As your hand reached for the knob, you felt his presence behind you and his left hand slammed against the door while his right quickly turned the key to lock it.

You turned to glare at him but as your eyes met his, your words got stuck in your throat. He looked at you with such intensity that it made your body temperature rise.

“I could teach you a lot of things if only you’d learn to keep that little mouth of yours shut.” The way he said things made you think he wasn’t necessarily referring to cooking.

His right hand suddenly reached for the back of your head and he pushed you forward, taking your lips in a hungry kiss. At first you didn’t move, you were too shocked to fully process what was happening. As his tongue slowly began to push against your lips you parted them and gave him full access to your mouth. Your hands reached for his broad shoulders and you instinctively stood on your toes in order to kiss him back.

The kiss only lasted for a few seconds but it felt like a life time when you finally parted. The anger from his eyes had been replaced with what seemed like hunger and he licked his lips making your knees to tremble.

“You could actually pass as cute when you’re not trying to push all my buttons.”

His words were like a wakeup call and your eyes widened at what had just transpired inside his office. He kissed you, but more importantly, you kissed him back! Not only that but you did it with such desire that no amount of denial would get you out of this one.

“Why-Why did you-”

“Because I wanted to.” Just like that, because he wanted to. He trapped you in his office and kissed you just because he wanted to.

He grabbed your wrist, quite gently to your surprise, and began to pull you away from the door.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to fuck you silly on the desk, what else.” Your eyes practically popped out of their sockets and you froze in place.

“I’m joking, obviously.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.” Your fist aimed for his shoulder but he dodged the punch without a problem. He then sat down on the couch and pulled your body so that you would seat next to him.

“Now then, let’s discuss a few rules if this is to continue.” What exactly was he talking about? What did he think was going to continue?

“Whatever happens in this room stays in this room. Once we’re out the door we’re back to teacher-student relationship and nothing more. You’ll give me your phone number so I can send you further recipes and set up meetings but we’ll never discuss anything that goes on here via messages or calls.”

“And what’s going to happen here?” You asked feelings a mixture or excitement and curiosity wash over you.

“That depends a lot on you.” He gave a little shrug as his hand landed on your thigh and began to smoothly move upward. “Depends on how obedient you are, show me that you want to learn.” You almost found it impossible to breath as his hand began to massage your flesh through the fabric of your pants. Why, why in the world didn’t you wear a skirt today?

“First, I think it’s fair to ask if I should be worried about you seeing someone. I don’t want to ruin a relationship or marriage.”

“I’m not seeing anyone.” After your promotion from last year it had been nearly impossible with your work schedule to form any kind of meaningful relationship and truth be told it was starting to show. God knows how much time had passed since you shared such a deep kiss and you wanted more of that. Even though there was a part of you that worried about what you were getting yourself into, you absolutely needed to feel that light headed again. Also, you knew that what he had offered was just a taste, just a fraction of what he could do to you.

“What about you? Is this something that you do often?” His hand on your thigh tightened and you let out a little whimper.

“I know you have the tendency to always believe the worse of me, but no, I’ve never done this with anyone. All the more reasons to set up clear rules. Obviously I’m also not in a relationship.”

You didn’t question him- he indeed didn’t seem the type to just sleep around with his students. If anything those women from your class would give and arm and a leg just to be here, in his office, sitting on the couch with his hand on their thigh. Yet for some reason, he chose you. The annoying, opinionated one that always rubbed him the wrong. Or maybe, you were actually rubbing the right way.

“I came to the conclusion that the only way for you to behave during my class is if we can take care of some of that pent up frustration you have.” You cheeks coloured red and you hated to admit it but he was right.

“What about you?” Your fingers began to travel provocatively to the growing bulge in his pants but he grabbed you by the wrist before you had the chance to reach your destination. You whined a little but he just chuckled and kissed the inside of your palm.

“Obviously, I’m not immune or I wouldn’t be here, offering to give you extra lessons.” He let go of your hand, his expression turning seriously.

“Before we continue, I need you to agree that you will behave accordingly.” You nodded in agreement, a bit too quick for your liking.

“I want to make it clear that we’ll not be dating. The second your course ends, so will this arrangement. We won’t meet anywhere else except here and once that door is locked you will be obedient. I won’t do anything that you’re uncomfortable with, but I want you to be opened to try new things, do you think you can do that?”

You nodded again finding it almost impossible so seat still. You were both nervous and excited for this little arrangement and you couldn’t wait to get started.

“Good, one last thing that we need to set straight.” He grabbed your waist and manoeuvred your body until you were sitting in his lap, his hand gripping your chin so he could look straight in your eyes.

“Inside this room you’ll address me as sensei or sir, none of that Nanami-san bullshit you pulled earlier. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes...sir.”

“Good girl.” He offered you a low chuckle and a light smack on your ass. You were absolutely desperate for more of his touch and seeing the need in your eyes, he pulled you in for another deep kiss.

As his tongue explored your mouth, your hips moved against his and his hands gripped your waist in order to stop the friction. He pulled away and looked at you in a threatening way.

“Don’t be greedy, your lessons haven’t started yet.” You wanted to protest but you were also afraid that he would end this before it even had the chance to start.

His slowly unbuttoned the first two buttons of your shirt and let his mouth fall on the swelling of your breast. He licked the flesh and nibbled, making your head fall back in pleasure.

“N-Nanami-sensei.” You mewled his name and he smiled against your breast. After a few more seconds he pulled away, admiring his work. The first mark he had left on your body and the promise of many more.

“Up you go.” He gave you another light smack on your bottom and with trembling legs you moved away from his lap.

“The next meeting will be and Saturday, to make up for the time you wasted today.” You frowned slightly, wondering how you’ll be able to resists until the weekend.

“Don’t make that face, I promise to give you and extra reward if you do well during Friday’s lesson.”

Your expression turned into an excited one and he laughed whole heartedly. “You’re so easy to read.”

With that, your little discussion had come to an end. He unlocked the door of his office and you stepped outside, practically waltzing through the classroom, down the hallway and through the lobby. The nice receptionist asked you something but you couldn’t register anything that she was saying so you just smiled like an idiot and waved her goodbye.

As the elevator door closed, a part of you began to worry about what you were getting yourself into. You weren’t a reckless person and you knew what scandal this could cause if you were caught. Still, it was even more dangerous for Nanami who could risk getting fired, so you had to trust that he knew what he was doing. All worries aside, on Saturday you were going to wear a damn skirt.

[official-weasley]

Love, William (Bill Weasley x OC) - Chapter 5

WARNINGS: Aunt Muriel 🤭, mentions of alcohol and getting drunk

Chapter 5 - Theodora's Flying

Bill was used to the racket that woke him up every morning by now. He was hoping that the rest of his siblings had the same idea as he did – get more sleep the night before the tournament – but when he gazed at his alarm clock and saw that it was only six-thirty in the morning, he quickly realized that he was the only one.

He sighed, got up, and stretched. He heard the twins running down the stairs and he could swear he heard Charlie tickle Ginny in the hallway. At least mum wasn’t shouting this morning. That was a record – two days in a row.

He slowly opened the door of his room and popped his head out cautiously, just in case something would explode in the hallway.

“Never a dull morning, is it?”

Bill turned around toward the voice. He saw Theodora standing in the doorway of Ginny’s room, watching Charlie chase after their youngest sibling as she was squeaking not to tickle her any more.

“Yeah.” Was all he could muster.

Theodora wasn’t the first person he expected to see this morning as she was usually with the twins. He tried smiling and hoped that his untied hair was able to hide his red cheeks.

He hated that he couldn’t say one word to her without blushing or getting butterflies. But he couldn’t deny that he sort of liked it either.

—

The past few weeks have been one of the best he had in a long time. He came to terms that perhaps him having a crush on her wasn’t so bad. He hardly ever thought about the age difference between them anymore and he enjoyed spending time with her – every minute of it.

He and Theodora sneaked out a few times to watch the stars as they did that night when Charlie and Ron forced him to go after her.

He had so much fun with her and he found out so many things about her. He now understood why she was friends with the twins – they might get on his nerves sometimes but they were such good and protective friends to her.

She told him how they have been there for her every time her mum sent her a mean letter, every time she felt alone and missed her brother, every time a boy broke her heart.

He loved listening to her talk about Quidditch even though it never interested him more than a few games he played with his siblings at the Burrow. He loved to hear how she started to correspond with Charlie – asking for a piece of simple advice about her Care of Magical Creatures essay. He couldn’t stop listening to her talk so greatly and fondly about his younger siblings.

He told her about his internship in Egypt and how hard it was to become a Curse Breaker. How they don’t tell you in school what you have to go through to get the job. He told her how much he loves it and that he feels like he will never get sick of what he does.

She was the first person he felt like he could tell anything to without being judged and she seemed so interested in everything he had to say. He felt accepted talking to her and even though he didn’t like admitting it, he felt like that for the first time.

Bill still wasn’t sure how he felt about the fact of how close they got all of a sudden and he was suspicious of the twins and Charlie as they stopped teasing him and pushing him toward her. They were perfect angels and he knew them well enough to know they had to either be up to something or something between him and Theodora changed.

He caught himself waking up excited every morning to spend more time with her. He was astonished how they never ran out of things to talk about and he constantly thought of things that Theodora might find funny because he loved hearing her laugh.

Theodora surprised him when she told him what exactly she will do in the shop when she manages to open it with the twins. Bill thought that she was going to work alongside his brothers and sell their products. He didn’t expect at all that she has basically robbed the library near her home of all the books that are business-related as she decided to stay behind the scenes and run the whole thing.

She admitted that she isn’t big on exposing herself and as much as she loves all their products she doesn’t have a talent when it comes to expressing how amazing they are. The twins and she sat down and talked about it and quickly realized that they are a perfect team – she doesn’t like selling while they do and they think finances are boring but they intrigue her.

The fact that she was willing to read through dozens of books and learn about how to properly run a business made Bill fancy her even more. At this point, he stopped questioning how could she only be 17 and just accepted the fact that she was the most amazing girl he ever had a chance to meet.

—

Charlie finally took mercy on Ginny and was now chasing after Theodora. Even though Bill knew it was all harmless fun he was jealous of Charlie and wished he could be so relaxed and fun around her.

Because he didn’t want to think about how boring and pathetic he is on the day of the tournament, he decided to go down and see what all the commotion is about.

The second he stepped to the lower floor he wanted to turn around and sprint back up. He heard the twins talk to aunt Muriel. He was glad that it wasn’t him. It’s not that he didn’t like her, he did, but she scared him just as much.

He never knew what to say in front of her without insulting her or saying something she is going to comment on. She liked to correct their mistakes ever since Bill can remember and he suddenly understood why Charlie was so keen on staying upstairs – Charlie disliked her even more because she isn’t an animal lover at all and she always commented on the fact that Charlie never brought a single girl home never even willing to listen what he has to say on the topic.

Bill tip-toed to the nearby wooden pillar that separated the hallway from the living room and leaned on it to hear what the twins had to endure. Before he could focus on their conversation he heard footsteps coming down the stairs and the second Theodora saw what he was doing, she started giggling.

She carefully stepped next to him and mimicked his posture.

“What are we doing?” She asked playfully.

“Hiding from my aunt,” Bill admitted, red in the face.

He was bothered by how old Theodora was while he acted like a child, hiding, and eavesdropping? He is such a loser.

“Is she so bad?” Theodora couldn’t stop shaking from giggles which she desperately tried to muffle with her hand over her mouth.

She tilted her head to sneak a peek into the living room.

“There she is! Come here, Theo. Let us introduce you to our favorite aunt.” George said nervously.

Before Bill could do anything about it and save Theodora from the interaction, she was already dragged by Fred to stand next to them.

“And who might you be?” Aunt Muriel narrowed her eyes and leaned closer to Theodora.

“This is our best friend, auntie.” George put a hand on Theodora’s back and pushed her forward almost making her slam her forehead against their aunt’s.

“Nice to meet you, my name is Theodora.” She extended her hand and waited for aunt Muriel’s response.

Muriel pursed her lips, her eyes still narrowed, scanning the girl. Theodora couldn’t remember the last time she felt so uncomfortable. It seemed the aunt was either judging her or contemplating if she should invite her to her secret club.

“Muriel.” She said slowly, her eyes moving up and down Theodora’s figure again. “A pleasure.”

“Theo, could you help me in the kitchen, dear?”

Theodora has never been so relieved to help Mrs. Weasley and she hoped that she won’t have to encounter aunt Muriel again during her stay here at the Burrow. She made a mental note to ask Fred and George in which room their aunt is staying in later so she can avoid the entire floor.

She excused herself, forcing a grin. Muriel’s eyes were still on her, her lips pursed again. Theodora stepped towards the kitchen as quickly as the gesture allowed her not to look as if she was running away.

“I like her.” Bill heard his aunt say.

He exhaled as much air as his lungs allowed him. He felt relieved that Theodora could slip away and that his aunt approved of her, not that it mattered in any way.

“So, which one of you is dating her?” Muriel asked Fred and George.

“Neither.” They replied in unison.

“Why? Can’t bother to put in the effort?” The aunt snorted.

“No,” Fred answered annoyed.

“She would be a fine lady to join the family.” Muriel persisted.

“Oh, don’t you worry auntie, Bill’s working on that.”

Bill frowned and clenched his jaw at George’s words. If he wasn’t so desperate to hide from his aunt he would go to the living room and strangle George for saying that.

“William?” Muriel gasped. “Isn’t the girl your age?”

“She is,” Fred answered, his voice indicating that he doesn’t see a problem.

“Are you out of your mind? She is too young for him. Shame on you for even thinking that and you better tell me you were joking and Bill isn’t trying to get the attention of the poor girl!”

Bill’s shoulders sunk at those words and he felt something break inside of him. He knew he was right. He knew Theodora was too young for him and that his siblings were wrong. He couldn’t believe it but aunt Muriel was making sense for a change.

He wanted to slam his head against the pillar – why did he have to listen to his siblings? Of course, they had no idea what they were talking about. He was having too much fun with Theodora, of course, it was too good to be true.

He sighed, feeling disappointed in himself. What was he thinking? What did he think would happen? He was a fool to think that there could ever be something between him and Theodora. He knew that now and he won’t let Charlie or the twins convince him to do anything as stupid again.

He and Theodora got so close in such a short amount of time and what did that bring him? Joy at first and happiness and the feeling of belonging and an opportunity to be himself. But that was just an illusion.

He was mad at himself for thinking that way. For allowing himself to get so low. Of course, he should’ve talked to an adult about it – ask mum perhaps – she would’ve set him straight in a minute.

He let out another sigh. He was right all along and it was time to stop pretending. There can never be anything between him and that wonderful girl. He can try and be friends with her like Charlie was, but he knew himself too well to know that he can't just stop feeling what he feels.

Another sigh – this time accompanied with a head shake. He just has to focus on the tournament and he can go home soon after that. It’s better that way.

He started toward the stairs, making a decision to wait in his room until all of his family members arrive. He wasn’t in a mood to talk to anyone or see anyone for that matter. He just wanted to be miserable.

Walking up the stairs, he silently thanked aunt Muriel for saying what she did. She was right and someone had to tell him the truth, no matter how much it hurt. He just wished she would say that a few weeks ago before he really started falling for Theodora and perhaps could avoid getting his heartbroken.

Now. Now it was too late for that. It’s been done.

—

“Come on, Bill! We have to get ready and we have to talk to Charlie!” Bill sat up on his bed when Fred started banging on his door.

“I’m coming!”

What was all the rush for?

He looked at his alarm clock and realized it was half an hour before the first game starts. He has been staring at the ceiling – his mind completely blank – for 4 hours. At least he didn’t have to interact with anyone.

He got dressed and made his way downstairs.

“Hi, Lee. What are you doing here?” Bill greeted the boy who was pacing up and down the corridor, pieces of parchment in his hands.

“Oh, hi, Bill! The twins invited me to be the tournament commentator.” He said nervously and returned to his notes.

“That’s great.” Bill grinned but didn’t get a reply.

He wasn’t at school anymore when Lee became the match commentator but the twins spoke about him often and always said he was really good so he couldn’t wait to hear him commentate on the game.

“There you are!” Before he knew what was going on, he was dragged outside by George.

George made him stop next to Theodora who was standing next to Fred, Ginny, and Ron – them all making a circle around Charlie.

“What is this? An intervention?” Charlie chuckled nervously. “Am I talking about dragons too much again?”

“Charles Weasley...” Fred said in a deep dramatic voice.

“We are gathered here today...” George followed his lead.

“To ask you something really really important.” Theodora sang as if in a musical.

Charlie was turning around to face each one of them, blinking confusingly, not having any idea what was going on.

“Will you be our Quidditch Captain?” Ginny asked in her sweet voice, making puppy eyes.

“Aww, that is so adorable!” For a second Bill thought Charlie was going to cry.

It was a nice thing his siblings did – asking him like this. Charlie might love his job in Romania but Bill knew he missed playing Quidditch and was proud to announce to anyone that asked him that he was captain while at school.

“Of course! I would love to!” Charlie jumped in the air and gathered them all into a bear hug.

“Now listen, you lot,” Charlie’s voice changed from high pitched excited one to serious the second they broke apart, “we are going up against the strongest teams in our family! We have to be focused, we have to stick together, and most importantly,” he smirked, “you have to listen to me.” He pointed his thumb at his chest.

“Five teams are competing – Aunt Muriel’s Army, The Prewetts, American Weasleys, the Twice Removed Cousins, and The Best Weasleys.” Charlie’s eyebrows were almost touching, that’s how focused he was.

“In case you’re wondering, we’re The Best Weasleys. Now,” he clapped his hands, “The Prewetts will play against the American Weasleys first. Then Aunt Muriel’s Army will play with the Twice Removed Cousins. Then the winning teams will play with each other and the winners get to compete against us.”

“If anyone is wondering why we seem to have no competition,” Charlie looked at Theodora who had the biggest grin on her face finding his speech as amusing as everyone else, “it’s because we won last year and winners just have to defend their title. We are the best Weasleys after all.” Charlie lifted his chin proudly.

“Anyone have any questions?” He asked and locked eyes with each one on his team.

Nobody dared to move a muscle. Bill never got a chance to see Charlie become the Quidditch Captain but he couldn’t deny that he was impressed. Charlie always messed around and seeing him so serious was a nice change of scenery.

Bill couldn’t stop sneaking a look at Theodora even if he wanted to. Her eyes were full of sparks looking at Charlie speak. She joined the team in Charlie’s last year and Bill knew that she not only admired him but missed him as a captain as well.

“Good! Everybody knows their position?”

They all nodded immediately.

“Great! Then go grab your gear, we have a tournament to win people!” Charlie started clapping his hands, gesturing to everybody that they should move.

Bill sat next to Ginny on the ground, waiting for the match between Aunt Muriel’s Army and Twice Removed Cousins to end. The Prewetts made complete fools out of American Weasleys, which wasn’t all that surprising since in the USA they barely play Quidditch and it showed on the pitch.

To distract himself from the fact that Theodora was sitting on his other side, Bill tried to focus on Lee who was commentating on the game. He was brilliant. Fred and George were right – he was good! He hoped that he will act upon his talent and that he’ll be able to hear him commentate on one of the future Quidditch World Cups.

“The Snitch has been caught! Aunt Muriel’s Army wins!”

Aunt Muriel stood up from her chair, where the family members that weren’t playing were sitting and cheering and started clapping loudly.

“Blimey, they are good this year.” Bill heard Fred whisper to Charlie behind him.

“Nah, they don’t stand a chance against The Prewetts.” Charlie calmed him down.

“That isn’t exactly encouraging for us if we have to go against them later,” George said.

“Come on, where’s your confidence?” Charlie nudged them with his shoulders. “You have me as captain and the Seeker and Theodora is an amazing Chaser and I have no doubt that you won’t destroy them with Bludgers and you said it yourself that Ron is getting better.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” George grinned mischievously.

“We are going to destroy them.” Fred agreed.

—

“That was a rough defeat for Aunt Muriel’s Army. 230 – 20 for The Prewetts and the game is over!”

Aunt Muriel wasn’t cheering so loudly anymore – she hid behind her hat instead.

Charlie was right. Despite Aunt Muriel’s Army doing their best, they didn’t stand a chance against The Prewetts. The twins hoped that Charlie was right about beating them too. They simply can’t lose, not at their home!

“Bill, you’re in-game spirit yet?” Charlie put his hand on his older brother’s shoulder, making him turn around.

“Of course, let’s go beat their arses!” Bill thrust his hand high in the air and felt Theodora giggle next to him at his words.

“See, you’re not as stuck up as you appear to be.” George winked at him.

“That’s the Bill we know and love!” Fred put his hands on Bill’s shoulder and shook him, making Bill playfully roll his eyes.

“Let’s go, team! It’s time to win this!” Charlie roared and ushered them all to the pitch.

They barely mounted their brooms when they could already hear Arthur Weasley cheering loudly in his chair. Molly Weasley stood up and started clapping with the biggest smile on her face.

This was the one event that brought the whole family together like this and it didn’t matter if they made fools out of themselves and they didn’t care how the rest of the family was looking at them. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were proud of their children and when better to show it than while playing Quidditch at the Burrow.

“Witches and Wizards, welcome to this year’s Weasley Tournament Finale!” Lee shouted into his microphone.

“We have The Prewetts, who won two games today and they did a great job, they sure deserve to be in the finale!” Lee admitted. “They are going against The Best Weasleys who have been holding the winner title of this tournament for 3 years now!”

“Will they be able to defend their position and stay on top or will the Prewetts become the new champions?”

A man with the curliest and reddest hair Lee has ever seen opened the chest in the middle of the field and let out the balls.

“The Snitch and the Bludger are out! Quaffle goes to The Best Weasleys and Ginny Weasley is already making her way with it toward the hoops!”

Lee watched Ginny sneak between two Beaters of the opposite team. She was still young but she showed exceptional talent. Because she was the youngest player, they didn’t take her seriously and she flew right past them straight in front of the other team’s Keeper.

“And Ginny scores the first goal! What a performance! The Prewetts sure didn’t see that coming!”

“Charlie Weasley – the former Gryffindor Quidditch captain and Seeker – is already after the Snitch! But what’s this now,” Lee gasped, “the Prewett’s Seeker is trying to knock Charlie off his broom. The Prewetts decided to take revenge for the first goal!”

“Fred and George Weasley are trying their best to stir the Bludger into the Seeker’s direction but they have to be careful not to hit their brother!”

Lee was shaking in his seat. The games at Hogwarts were intense sometimes and he always had so much fun commenting on them but this was something else. Family members competing against each other and seeing the Weasleys play together was like a dream come true. So many generations, so many amazing Quidditch players.

“Bill Weasley has the Quaffle now, but two Chasers from the opposite team are right on his tail!”

“Bill, watch out!” Bill turned to see George about to smack the Bludger in his direction.

He leaned forward to gain speed and got away just in time.

“What a performance from George Weasley! He knocked that Chaser right off his broom. This allows Bill to score, will he be able to do it?”

Lee stood up now, the excitement running through his body simply didn’t allow him to sit still any longer.

“Oh, no! George might have knocked one Chaser to the ground but the other two look like they won’t show any mercy to Bill!”

“Bill, over here!”

Bill barely dodged the Chaser that stopped right in front of him, wanting to trip him and looked to his left. Theodora was waving her hand and pointing to the hoops. Nobody was after her – all the attention on him. He gripped the Quaffle and lifted his hand.

“Bill passed the Quaffle to Theodora Cork, who is a remarkable Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team at Hogwarts, and she scores!”

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were now both standing up and jumping in the air, cheering louder than before. The American Weasleys and the Twice Removed Cousins were also cheering for The Best Weasleys.

“The Bludger is now following The Prewett’s Seeker, giving Charlie Weasley a chance to go after the golden ball!”

Lee couldn’t help but wish that all Weasley siblings could play at school. He can’t remember when was the last time he had so much fun but was on the edge of his seat at the same time.

“Bill Weasley is the one who scored this time! 60 – 30 for The Best Weasleys!”

Charlie was proud of Bill for scoring. He knew the most how nervous he was to play since he played Quidditch the least and can’t remember when the last time he used a broom was. But he had no time to show it. They might be leading by 30 points but it was time to end this and win for the fourth year in a row.

“Ginny scored again! I dare to say that she will join the team at Hogwarts soon! She is too talented not to do so!”

Ginny’s cheeks turned pink at Lee’s words. She was proud of herself and she finally got the opportunity to show herself on the broom.

“Charlie caught the Snitch! Charlie caught the Snitch! The Best Weasleys aren’t called the best without a reason! They are the champions of this year’s tournament!” Lee tried shouting in his microphone while jumping up and down.

Molly and Arthur were jumping in the air, embraced, waiting for their children to get off their brooms so they could go and congratulate them.

“Take that, Prewetts!” Molly turned to the family who was sitting behind her and stuck out her tongue.

“Mollywobbles, you are a Prewett,” Arthur whispered in her ear, gently.

“Not when my children just won a spectacular match!” Mrs. Weasley cupped her husband's face, kissed him hard on the mouth, and ran toward the kids.

Mr. Weasley stood still for a second, astonished how into the game his wife got and then ran after her.

“We won! We won!” Ginny, Ron, and Theodora were jumping in the air.

“This was amazing!” Fred and George high-fived.

“Why do we only have this tournament once per year?” Charlie stepped to the group, the biggest proud grin on his face.

“I’m proud of you, brother.” He hugged Ron and got a smile in exchange.

“Gin-Gin! Since when are you a professional Quidditch player!” Charlie rushed to his baby sister, hugged her around the waist, and lifted her high in the air, making her giggle.

“Theo, you were brilliant!” Fred and George squeezed Theodora into a hug sandwich.

“Ginny was better! We have to get her on our team!” Her eyes were on Ginny who was now put down by Charlie because Molly started to give him warning looks for lifting her so high.

“Oh, sweetheart, I am so proud of all of you!” Molly hugged her eldest son so tightly that he couldn’t breathe for a second.

“You showed those Prewetts what’s business!” Arthur grinned at the lot.

“We are the best Quidditch family.” Mrs. Weasley squeaked in excitement.

“You weren’t as bad as you deemed yourself to be.”

Bill turned around to see Theodora smirk at him. He couldn’t help but return the smile. The last time they were stargazing together they talked about the tournament and Bill expressed his concerns when it came to his gameplay. He didn’t think he did much, he only scored once but for him, the achievement was already that he didn’t fall off his broom.

“You were better!” He stepped closer to her and pulled her in a hug.

Theodora stiffened, not expecting Bill to hug her. He never did that before. They never hugged before. It felt nice and she didn’t care at that moment what anybody around them would think so she relaxed, closed her eyes, and hugged him back.

“Oh, stop it.” She mumbled into his shoulder.

She didn’t want to let go of him because her cheeks were bright red and it would be a miracle if Bill wouldn’t notice.

“I’m serious. You’re really talented.” Bill gently pulled away, his hands on her shoulders.

He was praying that she couldn’t hear his racing heartbeat. He had no idea what got over him – pulling her in a hug. It just seemed fitting and it felt so right. How could it feel so right?

He was watching her fly on that pitch as if there was nobody else there. And to say that he had fun playing Quidditch was an understatement. It was pure adrenaline when he passed the ball to Theodora and he can’t recall ever having so much fun at the tournament before. Perhaps it was because Theodora was a part of their team.

He was in awe of how good she was. Charlie kept saying it and the twins told him in many letters but he didn’t know just how much talent the girl in front of him had until he saw it for himself today.

She was brilliant. In every aspect. In everything she did. He embraced her again. He couldn’t keep looking into her eyes and he didn’t know how to make her turn around or step away from her.

At that moment he didn’t care who was around them and who could see them. He wanted to celebrate the fact that they won and he wanted to do it with her.

He gently pushed her away when he heard whistling. He saw Fred and George standing in front of them, clapping and raising their eyebrows up and down. Theodora just giggled, trying hard not to look at Bill, who was flushed.

He took a step backward. Suddenly, everything that he heard aunt Muriel say in the morning came back to him and the disappointing feeling that he once again gave in to his feelings overwhelmed him.

He has to stop doing this. He has to stop thinking about her in this way. Wanting to spend time with her – to talk to her – to be with her. It was wrong and he can’t be so weak and keep crossing the line. It’s not fair to her and he’s definitely not making it easy for himself.

Remembering that the tournament is over and that he can soon go home made him feel better. He can go back to Egypt and forget this summer ever happened. It’s for the best. It’s not like he can do anything about it anyway.

—

“Do you have the beer?” Bill whispered.

“Yes.” Charlie lifted a six-pack with his right arm.

“Do you have the non-alcoholic beer?”

“Yes.” Charlie lifted the six-pack he was holding with his other arm.

“Okay, I’ll go find the twins and you go to Ginny’s room.” Bill pointed at the door ahead of them, where Ginny and Theodora were sleeping.

“You go wake up your girlfriend.” Charlie put the beer down in front of Fred and George’s room, ready to go inside.

“She’s not my...” Bill sighed and rolled his eyes. “...never mind.”

He knew that no matter what he says, he won’t win an argument against Charlie. He turned around instead and tip-toed to Ginny’s room. He carefully opened the door, ready to find them both sound asleep, but Theodora was reading a book, the room lit by her wand.

“Hi.” Bill smiled awkwardly at her.

“Hey.” Theodora waved.

She lowered her wand and closed her book without marking it. As if she could concentrate on reading. She was so into her thoughts that suddenly seeing Bill made her heart go crazy.

She was trying, she really was. But she couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that Bill hugged her twice after the match. She kept thinking how good his arms around her felt and how proud he looked of her.

Her thoughts also kept getting disturbed by what she overheard aunt Muriel say to Fred and George this morning. Of course, she agreed with her. The age difference between them was too big but she didn’t have to be reminded of that. Not when she was having so much fun with him for the past few weeks.

She got to know Bill so much better and it seemed he was getting more relaxed around her and he trusted her more. It felt nice. She might be hiding and denying her feelings but at least she can be his friend.

That didn’t mean that what aunt Muriel said this morning didn’t hurt her. It did. Every time they were together and their hands brushed, or their shoulders touched, she was already reminded of the fact that Bill will never see her more than a friend, and each time she couldn’t help but wonder if things would be different if she was older. If only she was the older one in her family and not Eric.

“Is everything okay?” Theodora asked after swallowing hard.

She was doing it again – staring at him like an idiot.

“Yes...uhm...we...I mean Charlie and I...” Bill scratched his head.

Why was this so hard? He was getting good at talking to her but he couldn’t take the way she was looking at him – her eyes full of wonder and excitement for what he has to say.

He took a deep breath. He has to get it together, he can’t be so weak around a girl – around her.

“We want to celebrate today’s victory and I...I mean we were wondering if you would like to join us?”

Could he sound more hopeful that she’ll come? If Theodora wasn’t looking him straight in the eyes he would’ve rolled them, that’s how annoyed he was with himself.

“Sure. Let me just put something else on than my pajamas.” She chuckled and stood up.

“Of course, I’ll wait for you outside.” Bill chuckled too and closed the door behind him.

“That was smooth.”

Bill glared at Charlie who was giggling, walking past him going toward the stairs.

“Give me a break, Charles,” Bill whined.

He wanted to smack him over the head. It was already bad that he couldn’t talk normally to her but Charlie had to hear how awkward he was. He was counting the days to return to Egypt now.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Theodora closed the door behind her, careful not to wake Ginny.

“Where are you taking me?” She turned to Bill with the biggest smile on her face.

She looked as excited as if they were going on a vacation.

“We are going to the roof.” Bill cleared his throat and gestured for Theodora to follow him.

“Theo!” The twins exclaimed when they saw that Bill brought her too.

“Did you two finish your make-out session?” Fred winked at her and George started laughing so much that he almost fell off the roof.

Theodora hit both of them in the shoulder, ignoring their teasing, and rolled her eyes.

“Beer for me and Bill.” Charlie handed one to Bill. “And nonalcoholic for you three.” He tore open the box and gave each a bottle.

“Why do we get a nonalcoholic beer? We’re 17!” Fred frowned.

“Yeah, we’re of age.” George followed.

“Because mum would have our heads if she found out we gave you alcohol,” Bill explained.

“So unfair.” George sighed and opened his bottle.

The second he tasted the bubbly beverage a smirk appeared on his face and he exchanged a look with his twin. Fred put a finger over his mouth to indicate that he should stay quiet.

Theodora couldn’t believe how much fun they were having. She has never been on a roof before, let alone have a little party on it. She was laughing so hard as Charlie tried imitating one of their relatives when they realized they lost.

He did a perfect impression. The Prewetts were really mad that they lost. She, of course, thought that they didn’t stand a chance. They were playing well, she had to give them that but the Weasley’s were so good at Quidditch and had so many talented kids on the broom that she kind of felt that they overpowered the other team but she didn’t care. They won and the whole family was so happy about it and she wouldn’t want it any other way.

—

Theodora was sitting next to Bill and Fred, looking down at her second – now empty –bottle. She looked at the sky and felt as if the stars were dancing in front of her. She closed one eye and then the other one. She then closed them both at the same time and squinted hard, thinking she was just sleepy.

She opened them up again and now she wasn’t just seeing dancing stars but was dizzy too. She looked down at her bottle again and tried reading the label but Fred almost rolling down the roof distracted her.

“Gogie, did you see...that.” Fred hiccuped and then laughed as if he has never laughed before.

He was clutching his stomach, laughing at Bill’s face who grabbed his shirt just in time for him not to fall off.

“Do it again. Feddie...again.” George put his head between his legs, trying hard not to laugh.

Bill narrowed his eyes, looking at his brother’s sudden change in behavior. He then looked at Charlie who was observing them with his eyebrows raised and alert, ready to catch them again in case they try something funny.

“Can I just see something?”

Bill turned to Theodora who was blinking, looking at the fingers on her hand.

“Mhm.” She mumbled and gave Bill her bottle.

“Charlie.” Bill hissed, making Charlie look at him. “This is not non-alcoholic beer.”

“What are you talking about?” Charlie stood up at once and took the bottle from Bill.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Charlie whispered to himself.

“You said you had non-alcoholic beer for them!” Bill glared at his brother.

“I...I was sure it was. Bill, I swear.” The panic on his face grew larger.

Bill sighed. Charlie obviously made a mistake. He knew he was grown-up enough not to get his younger siblings drunk on purpose and on the roof too.

“What are we going to do?” Charlie started biting his lip nervously. “Mum will kill us if she finds out.”

“She won’t.” Bill pursed his lips, trying to think of something quickly.

“We’ll wait on the roof until they sober up a bit and then we’ll take them to bed.” He said after a minute of thinking.

“Ha-ha, we knew.” George was laying down now, still laughing.

“Knew what?” Bill turned to him.

“We took a sip, we knew it was beer.” Fred elaborated.

“You knew?” Bill frowned.

How could they be so irresponsible? He knew that this probably wasn’t the first time they were drunk. He attended Hogwarts, he remembered the parties that happened in the common rooms. But this was different – he and Charlie got them drunk. They were supposed to be responsible for them.

“Of course, they knew.” Charlie rolled his eyes.

For the first time since the summer started, Charlie seemed annoyed by something the twins did. It was one thing to make mum mad and to create dangerous products in their room. Being drunk wasn’t funny, especially them being on a roof and Bill knew that Charlie was just as worried about them as he was.

“I go sleepsleep now, Gogie.” Fred laid down on one of the blankets they set up and covered himself with another one.

“Wait for me, wait for me!” Fred didn’t walk to his twin brother – he jumped to the spot.

For a second Bill was sure he was going to have a heart attack.

Charlie carefully watched his every jump, his whole head moving up and down with Fred’s action. He was so pale that Bill was sure he was going to throw up.

“How are you feeling?” Bill turned to Theodora, taking off his jacket and putting it around her.

“I’m fine. A bit dizzy.” She smiled gently.

She was adorable. Bill wanted to pull her toward himself, so she could lean on his shoulder but thought better of it. She is sitting next to him, he can keep an eye on her without the gesture.

“I didn’t know that the beer wasn’t non-alcoholic.” She looked up at Bill with the biggest apologetic eyes.

Bill wanted to melt, that’s how cute she was. He couldn’t be mad at her, even if she told him that she was the one who gave them the beer.

“I know.” He whispered to her and tried his hardest to keep a straight face but he never could with her – she always made him want to smile.

It didn’t take Fred and George 15 minutes to start snoring next to each other. Charlie covered George with a blanket and sat down next to Bill.

“Well, this didn’t go according to plan.” He sighed.

“I’ll say.” Bill took a sip of his beer.

“So, you two are getting close.” Charlie nodded toward Theodora who was now snoozing on Bill’s shoulder.

“Charlie, give me a break. I told you she’s too young for me.” Bill whined.

If Theodora wasn’t leaning against him, he would get up and leave. He can’t have this conversation again.

“You’re on this again,” Charlie rolled his eyes, “I thought you were over your age difference.”

“I heard aunt Muriel talk to the twins this morning and she said she’s too young for me. I knew I should’ve talked to someone else than you gits.” He frowned.

“Oh, come on! Who listens to aunt Muriel?”

“Charlie, seriously, give it a rest. This is killing me as it is.” Bill looked down at Theodora, wishing he didn’t – she was so beautiful when she was sleeping.

“If the age bothers you so much all you have to do is wait for another 6 months. She’ll be 18 in January.” Charlie tried cheering him up.

“Do you know how creepy that sounds?” Bill cringed.

“Not really, no.” Charlie rubbed his chin, saying it again in his head. “So what if she’s younger? In a few years that won’t matter at all. Once we get to our twenties the differences between someone who is 21 and someone who is 29 are almost invisible.”

“Since when are you so smart about these things?” Bill raised an eyebrow at Charlie.

“I have a lot of friends who, for some reason, come to me for relationship advice.” Charlie chuckled.

“So, Mr. Advice-Giver, did you ever have a case like this?” Bill teased.

“No. But I have a friend in Romania who is 42 and he liked this girl who is 23 and everybody told them that she’s too young for him but he went for it anyway and they’re really happy together.” Charlie said matter-of-factly.

“That’s not the same, Charlie.” Bill pouted.

“How is it not the same?” Charlie asked puzzled.

“It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t feel the same way anyway.” Bill sighed and looked up at the stars.

“Seriously?” Charlie pressed his lips together.

“What?”

“I am prepared to bet that she not only likes you but has feelings for you.” Charlie nodded at Theodora, whose arm was now wrapped around Bill’s, her eyes still closed.

“She just fell asleep on my shoulder,” Bill said, annoyed with his brother.

“Right, and she constantly sneaks looks at you and she giggles at everything you say and she spends most of her free time with you or near you,” Charlie smirked.

“None of that is important. We can’t happen, Charlie. All the teasing and winking you and the twins do can only be in good fun. We can’t be together.”

Bill turned back to Theodora, looking at her longingly. The words hurt more than he would like to admit, especially because this was the first time he said them out loud, and now more than ever was he convinced that he was making the right decision.

“Alright,” Charlie gave up, “your heartbreak not mine.”

Exactly. It was his choice. He knows she is too young. And Charlie is delusional to think that she fancies him back. And there is simply too much distance between them once he goes back to Egypt. He has more reasons why they can’t be together, but right now, those convinced him enough to look away from her.

[sokayisaidiot]

Dream SMP Assumption #7

Today’s topic: Everybody is suffering and you know it.

Please DO NOT read if you’re uncomfortable with the themes of death, depression and suicide. It’s a very complicated theme. I did NOT study it and do NOT know some aspects of it. I just go off the things I saw in the smp and made my own theories about it. If you’re even slightly triggered by this, please stop and do NOT try to read it. Please do NOT put yourself in some kind of uncomfortable zone.

Please do not. Thank you

(This is all assumptioning from the fictional world of dream smp)

(Heavy spoilers on the resent events)

(Also just assumptions, when you know something, you can always drop it :))

(Mainly around the lmanburg way, sadly need to learn more about badlands ): )

(This Series is created by another person, that’s just too fuckin lazy to move her butt)

Trigger warning today:

Suicide thoughts

(PTSD)

Depression

War

Child Neglect

Betrayal and Trust Issues

Death

Lets get this straight, no one is pure evil just because. Everybody has something happening and BOOM, finished chaos and sadness and strange behavior and aggressiveness and- You get me? Good. I will take on EVERYBODY who says that a person in the story didn't suffer. I aint a Apologist either. I just want to make some things clear who suffered how. Understand? Good.

Stop saying “[Character] didn't suffer!” Hell yes somehow everybody, close in the lore, fuckin did.

LET’S GET STARTED

__________________________

Tommyinnit

Lets start with one, who should be pretty obvious. Tommy. In my second Assumption, I explained symptoms of PTSD and Depression. 

He was never really trusted by any point

Was just as used as Techno, because who had Tommy controlled was pretty powerful

He was exiled by a country, he HELPED saving MULTIPLE times

He saw his brother get killed by his father

He experienced so many deaths (Tubbo’s, in the final control room, Schlatts, 

He lost his pets 

He lost his belongings

Has to be on edge constantly

Gets accused by someone and then MOSTLY EVERYBODY believes, it was him

He isn’t really taken seriously

He gets seen as power-hungry person

People literally having him on the Hitlist

He nearly saw his best friend dying, on a mission, that was started by him

His older Brother, who he has an confused relationship with, doesn't even want to be revived.

Lost his brother to insanity and had to sit in the FRONT ROW of this spiral

PTSD

Depression

Suicidal thoughts

Betrayal

next to no one on his actual side

got left by almost everyone

was stuck on a island with an amnesiac ghost, who is a shell of his older brother

gets told his comfort items he had before everything else didn't matter

constantly has to live on the edge because he runs around with one just fuckin heart

Tubbo

Next to Tommy, he also suffers from PTSD, Depression and Suicidal tendencies. And that doesn't mean you kill yourself. It means you are too careless to give a fuck. And that can happen. TUbbo was way too easy to give up his OWN LIVE for something his best friend has passion in it.

He got publicly executed in a place HE DECORATED by someone he considered his Allie

Had the burden of Presidency on his YOUNG shoulders

The People who had to teach him about it, were also there for the tyranny

Got constantly considered a pawn, a throwable item

The adults use him as a figure head and proceed then to use him

He HAD to exile his best friend, or Tommy would have died sooner than ever

PTSD

Suicidal in a way of being okay for dying

Depression

Betrayal

Never gets taken seriously

Gets over-spoken a LOT

GETS COMPARED TO FUCKIN MANIACS OFTEN

Didn’t get nice words after his manipulator told him down, just SILENCE

He nearly died

He heard 

Got left by everyone, when they didn't see anything in this place anymore

got told by his best friend, that the discs were more worth than him

As Tommy, he is always on the edge of death

Technoblade

Techno is one of the most powerful people here on the server. No doubt about it. However, if someone, even a God, tries to refuse they have feelings, it’s impossible. And those feelings, when they get something terrible done to them, get hurt.

BETRAYAL

Loneliness

A bloodlust he sometimes seriously can't control, no matter how much he tries

His best friend (Wilbur), died before his eyes

He thought he could trust his (little brother figure) friend

Gets used often for material

betrayal

Has a hard time understanding his feelings

Gets talked over

Is socially avoiding talking

Gets seen as a bad guy many times

Trust issues, yay!

Also BETRAYAL

has at least some people who want to kill him

Wilbur Soot

Our favorite maniac! Yay! We can all see how he fell from a proud Leader of a family to an lost in himself man, with nothing left to loose

Had to countdown his brothers death

Was killed by his father

His OWN SON disowned him

He wasn't able to get help, especially not from his younger brother

His Allies were not really trust worthy

He got betrayed by a close comerade

His dear Brother was sometimes really chaotic

He had to lead an army to war, not one, but two times

He lost the election

He had to run away from a country he helped create

Had a hard time with this father (with how it’s shown, that he maybe was neglected and had to raise Tommy)

Ranboo

Our favorite Memory-Minutes-Boi! I think EVERYBODY in this community will protect him

His first days on the server were pure Chaos

Had to see a person, he considers a friend, being rotten away and not being able to do anything about it

A sister figure who just went angry

He isn’t trusted by anyone really

He knows things others don’t

ALSO LOSING YOUR MEMORY AND HAVING CONSTANT MEMORY LOSS FUCKIN SUCKS, TRUST ME

Has serious issues

GETS TALKED OVER

Is often forced to take a side, even if he's against it

Phil

He has a hard time. Especially with the death, failed resurrection, disowning one of his son, he didn't got even close to. Being 

Also on the edge of death every day

Was in the end peer pressured into killing his own son

Suffering from the loss of his son

Couldn't help his youngest son in exile, because he thought Tommy hated him

Wasn’t there for L’Manburg glory days

was ridiculed in his house arrest

Dream

Of course, we all know how mad he is now and shit, but you gotta think, he has some points here, that are infecting his behavior LARGELY

His friends left him, without considering helping him

He had lost his dear pet before

He actually wanted peace, but fell into the fun of destruction and chaos without someone knowing or helping him

He is homeless

Probably, he is a old being, that already suffered for millions of years

Sapnap

He’s actually one of my favorite Characters and I think we know he has a place in here.

Third wheels a  l o t

Constantly being referred as the THIRD person, who isn't important

Fought his friend, who took the side of a child

Said friend had one of his beloved fishes by his side the hole time

Said Fish got thought as dead

Fundy

Some of you guys forgot how sad actually Fundy’s character is. He IS one of the most hurt characters. And he gave up hope

constantly being talked over

disowned by his hole family

GREW UP IN OLD L’MANBURG, WHICH WAS AT WAR

doesn’t think he is a part of a group

had to disown his father, to help fight a tyrannt

Got babied his whole life

His dead father is still running away from their problems

Doesn’t know where his mum is

Lost his home so often

Nihachu

Actually the person I watched for the first long time as in the SMP

Again, being talked over

Doesn’t get taken seriously

Lost her Best friend (Wilbur)

Got betrayed by her friend, Karl, by him selling their Land to L’Manburg

Gets used as a hostage or Maid in Distress, even when she isn’t

Got her pets killed

Then constantly being used for her niceness

Jack Manifold

He has a pretty big Role now, and he's very VERY angry. And you might ask why

Got left behind by his country

doesn’t get taken seriously

Got his most powerful items removed in one thing

His land somehow is near a crater

got told he didn't suffer somehow

Went to mf hell

Quackity

Quackity, despite his funny demeanor, he's one of the hurt character

with him staying with Schlatt, he had a uncomfortable relationship a long time

got killed by the festival

somehow helped organize the death of a child

Said kid helped a revolution against him

he helped a tyrant come to power and will probably never get it live down

fought for a country so often, but, two times, it got exploded in front of his face

had to face war, also in a young age

Eret

Our favorite King is here too! Yes, he may have started the distrust spiral of Eret, but somehow, someone would still have led them to the FINAL CONTROL ROOM. Somehow History will always be happening.

Had one of the hardest time, getting forgiven

Was never really given a chance

got accused of something

gets used as a pawn

He has shown often regret

got left alone

I think we all can say they are just having MULTIPLE communicate, trust and self worth issues. Like goddamn, Puffy, please help them, you’re one of the only sane people in the lore-

[massivedrickhead]

Could you write a one shot where Beca got hurt jumping off the boat in pp3? Maybe shot?

I’m not gonna have her get shot because I don’t wanna get too serious.

Hope you enjoy anyway!

Read on AO3

Beca was falling. 

The water below lit up by the explosion behind her. 

Her ears ringing from the sound of it.

Time seemed to slow as she fell. She had time to see Fat Amy hit the end of the boat they’d used to get here, and send the other end into air.

And then she collided with it.

She felt the sharp smack of pain for a second before she was swallowed by the cold black water.

And then an even more intense pain exploded in her shoulder as someone grabbed her arm and pulled her to the surface. 

As her head broke the water, she could hear the voices if the Bellas calling to her but they sounded far away.

Someone was gripping her tightly, trying to keep her head above water, but the pain was becoming unbearable now.

“Please,” she said, her eyes squeezed shut. “Let me go. It hurts, let me go.”

“I’m not letting go,” Chloe’s voice said in her ear. Her voice was shaking. Trembling. But so fierce and determined that Beca stopped struggling. “I’m not losing you.” 

And then the pain reached it’s peak, and Beca got swallowed by the darkness.

When she came to, she could feel something vibrating beneath her, and someone was pressing a cold hand to her face.

“Beca?”

“Am I dead?” Beca asked, opening her eyes to see Chloe kneeling beside her, her eyes wide with concern. Chicago was beside Chloe, trying keep her blanket on her shoulders, but Chloe only had eyes for Beca.

“No,” Chloe said, half laughing, half crying as she helped Beca sit up. “No you’re not dead.”

“Did everyone get out?” Beca asked, wiping a stream of water out of her eyes. 

"Yeah,” Chloe said. “Everyone’s fine. They’re all on the other boats.”

“And you’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” Chloe said. “Cold and wet, but I’m okay. Better now that you’re awake.”

“Good,” Beca said, wiping the water away again. It kept dripping in front of her eyes and obscuring her vision. She wiped at it a bit harder and felt pain race across her forehead. 

“Hey,” Chloe said, holding Beca’s wrist, to stop her from touching her head again. “You’ll make it worse.”

Beca looked down and saw it was blood and not water that coated her hand.

“Oh,” Beca said, feeling suddenly much colder. She didn’t like blood, yet she couldn’t seem to look away from it.

“Look at me,” Chloe said, softly. “I don’t want you passing out again.”

Beca tore her eyes away from her blood covered hand to focus on Chloe.

“You saved us,” Chloe said. “You and Amy saved us.”

“Of course we did,” Beca said. 

They sat without speaking for a while, the noise of the boats the only sound they could hear.

At one point, Beca let her head drop onto Chloe’s shoulder.

“You’re gonna get blood on me,” Chloe said, kissing the top of Beca’s head.

“Sorry,” Beca said, laughing softly. “I’m tired. And you’re comfy.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Chloe said, trying to push away the worry in her stomach.

“That shit was crazy right? We jumped off a boat as it was exploding. Like… What the fuck man?”

Chloe laughed. “I know. That’s action movie shit. How are you doing?”

“Not… Not great.”

“What hurts?”

“My shoulder and my head,” Beca said. “And my ribs. And I kinda feel sick. And dizzy. Really dizzy. So, you know, I’ve had better days.”

Chloe turned to look at Chicago for the first time since Beca had been pulled onto the boat.

“How much longer?” She asked.

“Not long,” Chicago said. “There should be ambulances waiting.”

“Ambulances?” Beca asked. “Plural?”

“Amy got hurt too when she hit that boat,” Chloe said, turning to look back at Beca. Her stomach flipped as she saw how much paler she’d gotten. “She’s fine though. She looked in better shape than you.”

“Okay,” Beca said. She moved her head from Chloe’s shoulder and leant forward, feeling the sickness and dizziness rise with each rise and fall the boat made along the waves. “I don’t feel good. I hate boats. I’m never getting on another boat after this.”

“You’re okay,” Chloe said, running her hand up and down Beca’s back. “We’re almost there.”

As the boat started slowing, the rocking of the ship against the waves was getting worse as they approached the shore.

“Oh my god,” Beca mumbled. “I’m seriously gonna throw up. I swear I never get seasick.”

“I don’t think you’re seasick, Bec, I think you have a concussion,” Chloe said. 

“Ah,” Beca said. “Yeah. Yeah that makes more sense.”

“Beca, do you think you can walk?” Chicago asked.

“Ah ha,” Beca said, grimacing in pain.

“Okay,” Chicago said. “Me and the guys are gonna help you down from the boat now. We can’t really get these boats close enough so you’ll have to walk through a bit of the sea. It’s really shallow but the current is a bit strong, so don’t let it catch you off guard or you might fall, and that’ll be really embarrassing for you.”

Beca laughed and then winced again. 

Chicago climbed over the side of the boat, and another soldier eased Beca over the side and into his arms. 

She had to stop herself from screaming when his hands held her ribs.

“You good?” He asked, setting her on her feet.

Beca nodded, biting down on her lip, waiting for the pain to ease off again. “Where’s Chloe?”

“They’re getting her down now,” he said, steadying her as small wave caused her to stumble.

“Thank you. For coming to get us. You’re a good dude, Chicago,” Beca said, holding his forearm so she didn’t fall. “I can see why Chloe likes you.”

“Is that you giving me your blessing?” Chicago asked, smiling as he waited to help Chloe down off the boat.

“Sure,” Beca said, ignoring the sinking feeling in her stomach.

But she wanted Chloe to be happy. Being with Chicago would probably make her happy.

“She doesn’t like me, Beca,” Chicago said, a sad smile on his face. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you. She doesn’t like me.”

And then he was helping Chloe down from the boat, and she was beside her again, eyes full of worry as they looked her over.

Chicago pointed out where the ambulance was waiting, along with the some of other Bellas who had made their way off their boats and out of the sea.

“You’ll come with me, right?” Beca asked, as Chloe took hold of uninjured arm to help her walk out of the sea and up to the beach. “I don’t want to do this alone.”

“Of course. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Everything hurts, Chlo’,” Beca said, feeling another wave of nausea wash over her as more blood dripped down her face.

“I know. But look, we’re almost there.”

Chloe’s voice was sounding far away again. She could see people running towards them, but couldn’t make out who they were.

“Beca?”

She hadn’t realised she’d stopped walking, but now Chloe was turning to look at her, her eyes full of concern again.

And then Beca's legs gave out, and she fell forward into the sand.

And then she was in a warm and comfortable bed. The pain and nausea was gone, and she felt like she’d be able to drift off to sleep again if she wanted. Someone was holding tightly onto her hand.

She heard a door open and close followed by a chair scraping, but she made no move to open her eyes. She was just too relaxed and comfortable.

In the back of her mind, she knew that pain was there. She knew there’d be a lot of it later. Like when you drink a lot and you know a hangover is coming. But for now she was pain free.

“How’s Amy?” Chloe asked. Her voice sounded tired and it cracked when she spoke

“Fine,” Aubrey replied. “She broke her arm but they said she doesn’t need surgery or anything.”

“Thank god,” Chloe said. “She hit that boat pretty hard.”

“Not as hard as Beca,” Aubrey said. “How is she?”

“Um, I don’t know really,” Chloe said. “We were talking on the boat and she was hurt but she seemed okay. And then… I don’t know.”

“What did the doctors say?”

“She dislocated her shoulder, bruised her ribs, and hit her head pretty bad,” Chloe said. 

Beca was trying to follow along with the conversation happening in the room, but the words were hard to hold onto. She couldn’t quite make sense of them, so she gave up and just let them wash over her, and she drifted back off to sleep.

“What if she doesn’t wake up?” Chloe asked, her voice breaking again.

“She will,” Aubrey said. “She’ll be okay.”

“I love her, ‘Bree.”

“I know you do,” Aubrey said, sighing softly. “So when she wakes up, you should tell her.”

“Yeah,” Chloe said. “We all could have died tonight. If Amy and Beca hadn’t come for us, we could have died. I don’t want to wait anymore. I don’t want to waste anymore time.”

They sat in silence for a few more minutes.

“So apparently Amy beat up like 10 fully grown men on that boat. I gotta say, I thought every story she’d ever told had been BS until now. Do you think she’s actually wrestled crocodiles?”

-

Beca woke up for real a few hours later.

Chloe was sleeping in the chair beside her bed, and Beca couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her.

She was sore and tired, but she knew morphine was still taking the edge off, and that she’d feel real pain again later.

She was trying to make sense of the dream she’d been having, which had just been about Aubrey and Chloe talking, when Chloe stirred beside her.

“Hey,” Beca said, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

Chloe smiled when she saw she was awake. “Hey,” she said, her voice just as rough as Chloe’s. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry,” Beca said, smiling. “How long have you been sitting there?”

“They brought you in at like midnight so… six hours?”

“Shit,” Beca said. “I’m sorry. You can go back to the hotel, you know? Get some proper rest?”

“I told you I wasn’t leaving you,” Chloe said. “So I’m not leaving you.”

“Thank you,” Beca said, reaching out so Chloe could take her hand. 

“You and Amy rowed out into the Med to save us from a crazy hostage situation. I think I owe you this at least,” Chloe said, taking Beca’s and and pressing her lips to her knuckles.

“I did all of the rowing too,” Beca said. “If that gets me bonus points?”

“It does,” Chloe said, grinning. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” Beca said. “Tired. You?”

“Yeah I’m pretty tired too,” Chloe said. “It’s been a wild night.”

Beca gave a small noise of agreement, feeling her eyes wanting to close again. “Lie down with me?”

“I don’t know if I should,” Chloe said, biting her lip.

“Please,” Beca said. 

“I don’t want to get yelled at by a scary Spanish nurse.”

Beca laughed. “Okay,” she mumbled. “I don’t want that either.”

“I’ll stay right here though,” Chloe said, kissing Beca’s hand again. “I promise.”

“Love you, Chlo’,” Beca said, drifting off as Chloe stroked a hand up and down her arm.

“Love you too, Beca,” Chloe replied.

-

“I had a weird dream that first night in the hospital,” Beca said, sitting on the edge of her bed a few days later, struggling to tie her shoes without hurting her ribs.

“Yeah?” Chloe asked, batting Beca’s hands away so she could tie them for her.

Beca was being discharged, and she and Chloe had one more night in the hotel before flying back to New York. Beca couldn’t wait for a proper shower and night’s sleep that wouldn’t be interrupted by nurses checking on her every few hours.

“Yeah,” Beca said. “You and Aubrey were talking about Amy fighting a bunch of dudes on that boat.”

Chloe’s hands froze for a second before she carried on tying them.

“Did we talk about anything else?” Chloe asked, trying to keep her voice casual.

“Yeah,” Beca said.

Chloe looked up at her.

“It wasn’t a dream, was it?”

Chloe shook her head.

“So the other stuff…”

“Yeah,” Chloe said. “Not a dream.”

“And… And you meant it?”

“Yeah, I meant it.”

Beca nodded. “Um, it feels weird to say this while you’re tying my shoes.”

Chloe laughed and stood up, taking Beca’s hands.

“You’re like the most important person in my life, Chlo’. I love you so much.”

“I’m sensing a but coming?”

Beca shook her head. “No buts. I love you. I’m in love with you. Have been for a long time.”

Chloe blinked and felt tears prick her eyes.

“I love you too,” Chloe said. 

Beca grinned. “When I’ve showered all the hospital off me, I’m gonna kiss you, okay?”

“Can’t wait.”

[writingsbychlo]

starry night | chris beck

word count; 9241

summary; chris beck delivers flowers to you five times.

notes; this was originally called ‘candy cane lane’, but I changed it up a little.

warnings; none!

When Chris had started working in a flower shop, it was to pay his way through college. He was getting a degree in medicine and it wasn't cheap, and he needed a simple and easy way to make cash that wouldn't take too much out of him. He wasn’t big on anything social, and so working in a bar or restaurant didn’t seem like the best fit, and unfortunately for him, all the library jobs had been snapped up at the beginning of the year. Supermarkets were a no go, he hated the people that came through and how rude some of them could be, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to get a job in a coffee shop.

Working those machines might as well be rocket science.

The little flower store on the end of his campus road had been hiring, and eventually, he’d become desperate. It wasn’t his usual gig, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it, to begin with, but it offered decent money, reasonably flexible hours, and the boss actually let him study on shift when it was quiet, and so it actually gave him more free time than he had before getting a job.

Then, he’d started to warm up to it. It was always cool in the summer and warmer in the winter, keeping it temperate for the plants, and it always smelt good. He made friends with a man named Mark who came in every so often to buy new plants to study, he was becoming a botanist, and they bonded over the serene quietness of flower shops for studying and bad jokes.

Little old ladies pinched his cheeks, the tips were good, and it helped him clear his thoughts to be able to do menial tasks like spray the flowers with water every other hour to keep them wet enough, and to sit behind the cash registers. It was a simple Christmas present from said botanist friend that really inspired his passion, though. More of a gag gift, he was sure that was its intention, but he’d started to take it seriously. Chapter after chapter on the meanings of flowers, how to send hidden messages through plants, and something about the way of communicating in ways other than words had spoken to him.

After that, he’d been able to offer a service of sending messages through flowers. He’d become a more popular salesperson, and he’s shifts had increased, and he loved doing it. He loved the physical way that a message could be conveyed, beautiful explosions of colour to mean ‘I love you’ or ‘Happy Anniversary’, and so he’d started to invest his time in that. Nobody had been all that surprised when the older man who ran the shop had left it to him when he passed, not even Chris himself, and so he’d finished up his degree and started working at the flower shop full time.

Mark had taken on a part-time job there, as well as his internship in a clinical research lab, and they’d hired an extra hand at the register. It made him happy.

Less so, when he had an influx of orders overnight, and instead had to focus on building bouquets to be shipped instead of the garden expansion he was making, but happy nonetheless.

He was twenty-seven custom orders in, Mark already out running the standard bouquets for delivery, and he was stacking them by the garage door, wrapped in ribs and pretty vase-boxes, all ready to go. Licking the tip of his finger to flick the paper over, he let out a sigh, two sets of flowers on one page, his rows raising. It wasn’t unusual for there to be multiple sets on one order form, but as his eyes scanned over the list of preferences, scents and colours, as well as the messages they were wishing to convey, one of his brows rose up.

One request for the pretty set of pink roses and lilies that he’d loving crafted himself, a collection of flowers that signified an apology, and he was always happy to offer advice to any guys who came into the store to buy that set. It was usually a guy fresh to a relationship, messed something up by refusing to unfollow another girl on Instagram, or just saying the wrong thing in front of his friends, introducing a girl as his friend, that one always made him giggle. The second was curious, though, and it made his lips quirk up in a slight smirk at the insinuation of it. Red roses and tulips, a darker and more seductive bunch; new beginnings and early love, and he was willing to place his last dollar on it being an affair.

It felt even more sure when he noticed that the delivery address was that of an office block, and not a home address, a man’s name instead of a woman’s. In the personal notes section, there were no names, and so that was an option ruled out for getting to the bottom of the situation, but he wrote out gift cards, one with swirling writing for a heartfelt apology and the other with a sickly-sweet pick-up line and what he assumed to be an inside joke.

Curled ribbons and plastic wrapping, and the two bouquet were standing side by side for delivery, the van chugging as it was pulled back into the driveway, reversed up, and his blond-haired friend rounding the vehicle, looking utterly worn out, and it was only halfway through the day.

“You’d think it was Valentine’s Day, or something. This is crazy, it’s November!”

He took off his cap, running a hand over his hair and scratching lightly at his scalp, before placing the embroidered garment with the company logo back onto his head. “I’ve got something that’ll cheer you up!”

“Oh, yeah? Is it the rest of the day off?”

“Uh, no.” He deadpanned, his friend laughing as he came to stand by him, and he motioned towards the collection. “However, it is a rather exciting combination. These two-” He tapped at the boxes holding them firm at the base. “-are going to the same place.”

“And that is exciting why, exactly?”

“Because one is supposed to symbolise asking for forgiveness and all that, and the other symbolises new love and beginnings and all that. They’re being delivered to an office block, not a home address.” It took Mark a minute to process it, and Chris watched the gears turn in his friend’s head, before his jaw was dropping, and he let out a disbelieving laugh.

“Oh, and you think it’s a.. y’know.” He only nodded, and he began to load up the other orders into the van, a printout sheet of new addresses and order numbers on the tags, the delivery sheets loaded onto a clipboard to be signed for at each location. The empty van was once again teeming with bright flowers and artfully arranged bundles. Securing them all down and making sure they wouldn't tip over or get crushed during the ride there, he was confident they were ready to go, almost all of them set up, before he was staring at the two he’d recently made once again, his curiosity getting the better of him. “You want me to try and find out while I’m there?”

He almost agreed, it would have been so easy, a simple way to put his questions to rest, but he was invested in it now, and so he already knew what was coming. “No, I’ll deliver these ones myself.

Mark only nodded, slamming and locking the back of the van doors, double-checking the hatches for fresh air were open to stop them from wilting in transit, and then he was back up into the main cabin. The loud sounds of disco music exploding from the van radio as he started it back up, reversing from the driveway and setting off on his next round of deliveries.

Scooping up the first set in his arms, Chris patted down his pockets in search for his keys, finding them in his left side back pocket, unlocking his car with a click of a button, and setting the first batch on the passenger seat. The second soon followed, and he used the seatbelt to secure them in place, rolling the windows down as he set off, programming the address into his SatNav.

It was a short drive, twenty minutes maximum, even with traffic, the tall and shining office building one that he was vaguely familiar with towards the inside of the city, harsh rays of winter sun reflecting off of clean glass windows, all the way up to the top floor, and it was so tall that as he stared at it, he swore the building was swaying. With a bouquet in each arm and the clipboard tucked under one, he backed his way through the polished glass doors, a company insignia printed onto the glass, and he almost wanted to check his shoes for traces of at the appearance of the clean white lobby.

Large tiles of marble flooring, specks of grey flickering throughout them, and white leather couches along some of the walls on one side of the lobby, a waiting room. The other had various coffee and tea machines, recyclable cups and sugar packets, as well as a range of fruits and muffins, and he wanted to scoff a little at the ostentatious nature of it all. The desk was empty as he finally approached, though he could hear chatter in the background, behind reflective glass panels that he couldn’t see through, one-way glass he assumed, and as he balanced the bouquets up on the counter, an older woman, approaching her fifties he presumed, came out, a wide smile on her face as she brushed down the material of her skirt.

“My, my, aren’t those beautiful? Unfortunately, I don’t think they’re for me.”

“Well, ma’am, unless you’re a ‘Mr Robert McKinley’, I’d have to agree.” She chuckled, nodding her head as she looked at them before picking up the phone, and typing in an extension. Lifting it to her ear, she balanced it there against her shoulder, smiling at him once again.

“I’ll just have his assistant come down to collect them and sign for them for you, lovely.” He nodded his head, turning away to be polite as she chatted away on the phone for only a moment, confirming that there was a package to be sorted out, and he twisted back to look at her as she put the phone down. Manicured nails tapped at the desk for only as second, an awkward silence forming, and one of the elevators let out a small ‘dinging’ sound as it was clicked into use, the numbers on the screen above the floor counting down, coming all the way from the twenty-eighth floor. “Would you like a candy?”

He jumped a little, turning back to look at the woman who had now sat down a little distance from him, behind the computer at the desk, and she turned to him, raising up a bowl of neatly wrapped candies, and placing it up on the glass counter for him to reach. He didn’t, but she was staring at him expectantly, and so he plucked the first one from the bowl, offering her a simple nod of his head, and tucking it into the pocket on his shirt.

When a chime sounded throughout the lobby, the sound echoing off of every hard surface, Chris’ attention was drawn to the clicking of heels on the smooth stone flooring. A pretty blouse that looked like it cost more than his entire outfit and a fitted pencil skirt that was sitting just below your knees, your were a professional vision. Except, your hair was a little messy, and there was a wide grin on your face as you typed rapidly on your phone, not even needing to look up to do the walk, but your expression made you look much more approachable than the usual businesswoman.

You clicked off your phone only a few feet away from him, looking up as your gaze went straight to the flowers at his side instead of him, but it gave Chris the chance to take you in just for a moment, and fully observe you, Up close, you were even prettier, soft skin and pretty hair that shined under the lights, and whatever the shade of lipstick was that you were wearing was perfect, because it suited you like it had been made for you.

You reached out, straight past him for a second, and the receptionist gasped, reaching for the bowl of candy, but you were quicker, your hand scooping up a little collection of the sweets and pulling them back, a sound of victory sounding from you, and she mumbled under her breath playfully, rolling her eyes and threatening to start hiding the treats before she ran out, but you only chuckled, unwrapping one and placing it against your tongue, lips brushing your fingers as you turned to him, and he forced his eyes away from your mouth, a blush on his cheeks.

“Oh, wow. Check these out.” You turned to the receptionist, motioning to them, and she only nodded her head, the sounds of a printer firing up in the back room, and she disappeared to collect the sheets, leaving the pair of you alone. “For Mr McKinley?”

You leaned over the counter, snatching up a pen from the other side, and he only nodded, producing the collection sheet, and pointing out the spot that needed singing, the scraping of the pen on paper filling the silence as you signed in both boxes, handing it back to him and tucking the pen behind your ear. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Fire away.” You grinned, unwrapping another candy, leaving the wrapper on the glass alongside the other one, a cheeky move he was sure you’d get reprimanded for by the receptionist who kept a beautifully organised and clean desk and foyer.

“There are two bouquets here, both with flowers that have very different meanings. Can I ask why?”

You hummed, staring at him for a minute as you chewed slowly, before swallowing the sweet in your mouth and smirking slightly. “I’ll answer your question, but only if you answer mine first; what do the flowers mean?”

Chris grinned, unable to hold it in, because he loved getting to talk about his passions, especially when he could show off a little in front of a pretty lady, and he nodded his head. “Pink roses and lilies are an apology, but red roses with tulips are for new love.”

“And do you have any theories?”

“Just the one, but I’m waiting for it to be confirmed.” He chuckled a little at the devious look that flashed over your features as you pulled the red roses bundle toward you, nose pressed into them for a second as you inhaled deeply, a little sigh leaving you afterwards.

“I’m trusting you here, but you’re cute, so I’ll tell you.” Heat rushed to his cheeks, head ducking for just a second, before he was looking back up to catch your gaze, brows raised as he waited excitedly, leaning in to meet you as though a scandalous secret was about to be told, and he supposed that’s exactly what it was. “There’s another receptionist, and intern back in there, fresh out of college, just a year below me, and he’s definitely fucking her.” You tapped a finger against the red roses, before your gaze was flicking to the second bunch, still by his arm as he leaned on the counter. “However, a couple of days ago he had a lunch date scheduled with his wife, and he missed it. I couldn’t find him anywhere, and I couldn’t find the intern either. Not hard to connect the dots.”

“Oh, so he’s covering both of his bases?”

“For sure.” You grinned, backing up a little bit to grab the second bundle, and adjusting them in your arms for balance. “Angie had probably realised too, and dashed in there to tell the girl that she’s got flowers coming.”

You were making your way over to the elevators, and he followed after you, pressing the button to summon the lift, and it hummed to life behind closed metal doors. “You know, since we just became partners in crime, maybe I should get to know your name?”

“Well, that was smooth.” You laughed, the doors opening up, and you stepped inside, placing one bouquet on the floor at your feet and holding onto the other. You caved, giving him your name as he placed his hand over the door to stop them from closing, ad he repeated the name to you, testing it on his tongue as he learnt it. He gave you his own in return when he asked, and when you said it back, his smile widened, already liking the way his name sounded coming for you.

You typed a code into the pad on the wall of the elevator, the screen flashing green as your programming was accepted, and he stepped back, grinning as you waved your fingers at him, the doors closing as you disappeared from view. He snatched up his clipboard on the way out, unable to contain the smile on his face.

Chris Beck hated making deliveries, but this one hadn't been so bad.

There was a genuine smile on his face as he stepped through the glass doors of the lobby, smaller and simpler bouquets this time, both matching and nothing special, but he’d tasked himself with delivering them personally because he’d recognised the name and address immediately, his encounter with the cute assistant he’d met only two weeks prior flashing through his mind as he’d insisted on delivering this order himself, Mark smirking and helping him gather the flowers as soon as he’d spilled all about you.

Now, he had two sets of pretty pink flowers in different shades, and a single red rose in a sleek plastic wrapping, all wraith ribbons wrapped around them were bundled in one arm, the other holding onto his clipboard, and the desk was once again empty as he approached. A bell, sleek and shining silver, and it was a new addition, definitely not present last time, and he eyes it suspiciously for a moment, before pressing a finger against the top lightly, just twice, a little ringing sounding out around the lobby.

A head of curly hair popped out from around the glass, much younger than the previous assistant, and wearing a much tighter skirt, and she grinned widely as she stepped forwards. He couldn’t deny that she was beautiful, fiery red hair and a wide smile, lips painted with red lipstick, and she seemed sweet, but far too intimidating for him to ever consider. Her heels were so tall that he wondered how she even walked in them, long and thin points creating the stilettos.

“Flowers?”

There was an eager tone to her voice, and he put the pieces of the puzzle together, assuming this to be the intern, his eyes flicking down to her name badge for a second, reading it as ‘Clara’. “For Mr McKinley. Is his assistant free tom come and sign for them?”

The woman paused, rolling her lips a little and nodding her head, a coy look on her features before sitting down in the chair and spinning in it to face the phone, lifting it up to her ear and dialling a short connection number. He didn’t seem to need to wait long, before she was summoning you, a ‘flower delivery’ to be claimed, and she was far too excited, only confirming his doubts that this was definitely the mistress. “She’ll be right down.”

“Fantastic.” He wasn’t sure she even processed his words, before her eyes were closing in on the flowers, and he ignored it, turning back to look at the elevator, waiting for the number on the twenty-eighth floor to light up, a number flashing over the screen. It paused on its descent this time, stopping at the eighteenth floor, and then again at the twelfth, and he assumed that somebody else had joined the journey for a short while.

When the doors finally opened, you weren’t built typing away this time, a grin on your face as your eyes swept over the entrance for him, and he waved his fingers again, straightening up from the desk.

“It’s my partner in crime, back again.”

“Missed you too much, just had to return.”

“Of course, you did, because I’m awesome.” You came to a stop before him, peering up at him through bright eyes, and he swallowed thickly, a little nervous but very excited, and he tried to remember any of what Mark had taught him, his friend being far better with the women than he was, and everything from the last-minute crash course he’d been given upon leaving the shop forty-five minutes ago seemed to have gone blank. “So, what really brings you here today?”

You gasped a little as he shifted to show you the collection, sliding the clipboard closer, and you were presented with a pen from him, floral patterning woven along the body, your thumb clicking it on to sign for them. When you passed it back, you shared a look with him, both of your glances flicking over to the intern who was still admiring the flowers, completely oblivious.

“Hey, Clara?” Her head snapped up, pale skin heating with colour as she flushed, and he suppressed a chuckle. “Mr McKinley is in meetings all afternoon, but he’ll want to approve these flowers. Can you put them in water, and I’ll call to have them sent up when he’s ready?”

She only nodded, more than happy to take a gift that she knew one of was for her into the back, hands reaching over to gather them all up. He almost missed it, watching as all of the flowers were taken, too busy watching the way you rolled your eyes at her when she looked away, fond but still a little cool, and he bit at the inside of his cheek to contain his amusement. It was just as she was leaving that his mind cleared, and he cleared his throat.

“Wait, wait, hold on!” She turned back, brows raised, and he reached over, letting her take a step forwards so that he could reach, plucking the single rose from where it was laying over the top of the two. “This, uh, this is actually for you.”

He presented it to you, your eyes widening a little, and you looked between him and the flower several times. His heart was in his throat, worry you were going to reject it, before you were giving him a different smile than he had seen yet, something softer and more endearing, and you plucked it from his hands, bringing it to your nose. “You’re just a big flirt, huh, Chris?” Your eyes fluttered for a moment, before you were looking back up to him through your lashes. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem, honestly. I own the shop, the least I can do is give my partner in crime a pretty flower.”

You scoffed, but it was out of friendship and playfulness, not judgement or rejection, and silence fell between you both once again. The plastic in your hands wrinkled as you twirled it, wrapping the curled ribbon around your finger for a second, and letting it jump back into place when you let it go. “You busy? Got a packed store to run back to?”

Your question caught him off-guard, and he struggled to find words for a second, before clearing his throat and shaking his head. “No, uh, no. Clear day, actually. This was the last order.”

“So, you’re free for an hour or so?” Chris nodded his head, licking at his lips as he became a little nervous once again. “Well, why don’t I give you a tour? We’ve got some pretty cool stuff here, and I’ll fix you up with a drink from the coffee bar before you go.”

“This building has a coffee bar?”

“You bet it does.” You teased, turning on your heel as you took his question as acceptance, and he scooped up the clipboard, following after you as you made your way to the elevator, and this time when it opened, he stepped inside with you. As soon as the keypad lit up, prompting you to enter your four-digit authorisation code and make a floor selection, and you paused, finger hovering over the electronic selections. “What do you wanna’ see first, then?”

“You got an office?”

“I sure do.” You grinned, tapping for the twenty-eighth floor, and the machinery soon hummed into life, gears jerking smoothly into motion and soft music playing over the speakers in the background.

The ride was quiet, and he twisted his head as though the walls were interesting, just to take them in and hide the expression on his face as he watched you twirl the rose he’d given you between your fingers. There was a tag, one that he hadn't yet seen you read, and while all it contained was his number and a sign of his name, he was still a little nervous for your reaction to it, so he was glad to watch you place it onto your desk to be returned to later as you showed him around.

The building truly was impressive, large floor to ceiling glass windows on one wall of your office, staring out at the city below and giving a view so stunning and far that he could see all the way out to where the concrete faded away into greenery along the horizon, and he was a little taken aback by it all. Dipping the rose into a mug of water from the office kitchen, you promised to transfer it to a vase when you got home that evening, and you showed him all around.

Up and down on the elevator, proudly showing him every aspect of your workplace, and somewhere between the in-house gym and the coffee bar you’d boasted of in the staff food courts, you’d made him promise a tour of the flower shop sometime.

Way over an hour had passed in total, and he would’ve been more than happy to let that go on and on, for the rest of the day until the sun was setting, just to sit on the stools at the high tables at the coffee bar, getting refills on his coffee as he watched you drink herbals teas and chat about everything you got up to in the day, but your boss was paging you again to ask where you were, and he had his own job to return to at some point. You seemed hesitant at first, but had eventually divulged him with a guest security code for the elevator, logging him under your name, so that in future, he would be able to bring the flowers straight upstairs to you, and come and see you whenever he stopped by.

With a to-go cup in hand that had your number written on the cardboard holder, you’d escorted him all the way back to the lobby, pressing a friendly kiss to his cheek as he stepped between the doors, waving a little with what he knew was a goofy smile, waiting until he could no longer see you as the metal doors slid shut to reflect his image back at him, before he was bidding the two women at the reception desk a goodbye, and pretending not to know that they were eavesdropping, because he was floating far too high to care right now.

Chris hadn't been surprised at all when the next batch of flowers had come through, because you’d told him days prior that he could be expecting another batch of apology flowers to come through. Your work had been busy lately, you’d told him so yourself the few weeks that had slid past since you’d exchanged numbers had been filled with an abundance of texts.

Sharing texts had rapidly become phone calls in downtime, exchanging social media and sending one another dumb jokes and funny pictures throughout your workdays. He knew that your job had been getting harder lately, the run down to Christmas making everything a little more difficult, and that you’d been swept off of your feet because your boss had been, too. Eight-hour shifts had become twelve, day through to night, never seeing the light of a winter day unless it was through the windows of your office as you worked, and he had a sympathetic guilt twisting in his gut.

Two bouquets to make up for the lack of time that your boss had been able to spare for either of the women in his life and you’d looked positively exhausted as you came out of your office to greet him at the top of the elevator. You had a frown on your face that barely lifted into a smile as you saw him, even though he knew you were happy to catch sight of him. The usual shade of lipstick that projected boldness and power was gone, your face free of makeup entirely, and styled hair now just pulled up into a bun.

He wondered how long it had been since you’d had a full night’s sleep.

“Hey, sweetheart. How’re you feeling?” You only shook your head, sniffling a little as you suppressed a yawn, before taking one of the bouquets from his arms, and inspecting it carefully.

“These are beautiful.”

“I put a little extra ribbon on them, just for you.” He winked, and that had earned him a little chuckle, glancing at him over your shoulder as he followed you through to your office, and placing them down on the cabinet near the doorway to be distributed when your boss had a free second to look at them. Chris felt his own eyes widen in shock as he looked around, the stacks of paperwork littered around the surfaces were astonishing, and there was other mess scattered among that.

Stationary littered the desk, clearly trying to get everything sorted, and almost every draw in the room was half-open, your heels kicked off by the edge of the desk and there was a clear spot against one of the walls where you’d been sitting, a patch clear with papers spread out around you, wording and statements on them that made his head spin as he looked at them. Business definitely wasn’t his forte.

You rubbed a hand over your forehead, cursing a little as you tried to find a pen that wasn't a highlighter, and he didn’t miss the crack in your voice as you scoured the paper stacks. Leaning down to pick one up from the dropped pen pot on the floor, and offering it to you. A little sigh passed your lips, before you were taking it from him, clicking it into action and signing your name on both of the forms to confirm the delivery, a simple ritual of habit by this stage, as he knew that even if you didn’t he wasn’t risking any legal action from you.

You rubbed a hand over your forehead afterwards, rolling your shoulders and shaking yourself down as you tried to hit that reset button on your mood, but it wasn't working, it didn’t take a genius to see it, and so he reached out, placing a comforting squeeze to your forearm, fingers slipping a little lower to latch onto your wrist loosely.

“Okay, you’re a little overwhelmed in here, huh?” You let out a weak laugh, glancing around yourself and nodding. “It’s time for a break. Take your lunch break now, we’re getting out of here.”

“I can’t leave, I have too much to do. I’ll just get something from the food courts, a sandwich, maybe.” You slumped down into your desk chairs, the wheels on it carrying you backwards slightly, and he placed his hands on his hips, shaking his head at you.

“You have to go. It’s doctor’s orders.”

“Which doctor?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him, and he gasped a little, hands finding your own and pulling you to your feet, despite the whine that you let out.

“This doctor. I went to medical school, I get to give the orders. You, my dear, need one hour of rest and relaxation from your workplace, stat.” You started up at him for a second, seeming to weigh it out in your mind, but he wasn’t backing down, and he swore he saw that realisation click within your eyes, because you caved.

Slipping your heels on and grabbing your jacket from the back of the door, you logged your timeout of the building in the lobby with Angie, who cooed at you a little as she watched you go, a pitiful look on her face as she knew just how hard you were working too, before his hand was settling on your lower back.

A ten-minute walk, finding a table in a small pizzeria on the corner of a street, one that he’d been dying to try for months now, and a quick order, and you were slumping down tiredly against the table. The workload always increased at Christmas, sales shot through the roof, all the expansions of your company were filing for Christmas bonuses, parties, annual reports and then, of course, there were the usual rises and falls in statistics over the year that needed to be dealt with.

It was chaotic, to say the least.

Over a hot and freshly baked pizza, your selection of toppings, and a soda that made you wrinkle your nose from the fizziness within, you looked like there was a little more life within you when you’d been leaving.

You spilled it all to him, telling him every struggle you’d been facing, and while he didn't understand half of what you were saying, he was more than happy to just to listen. He couldn't offer much advice, or anything of the sort that might be helpful, but it seemed that just being able to talk to someone had made the day a little brighter.

The chill in the air and the biting winds had made you wrap your coat around yourself even tighter on the walk back to your work, but there was more of a pep in your step and a lighter tone to your voice, a little more chipper and slightly less drained as you began to make your way back across the carpark. His arm was sitting around your waist, keeping you pulled up to his side against the cold of the winter. Instead of guiding you over to the door, though, his first stop was his car, ensuring that you couldn't see what he had placed on the passenger seat until he was ready for you to see it.

Leaning yo back against the cold metal, he unlocked the car, making you promise to cover your eyes, and while making a few jokes about how you were sure this was how friendly guys would kidnap a girl, you did as he’d asked. You gasped a little at the rustling of fabric in the wind and under his hands, seeming to guess what it was before ever seeing the gift, because a wide smile spread over your features.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“Depends, what do you think it is?” He teased, making you wait a little longer, and you dragged your lower lip through your teeth, a hopefully look spreading over what half of your face he could actually see.

“Flowers, maybe?”

“Then you would be correct!” Your hand fell away from your eyes, taking a second to blink back into adjustment of the rays the winter sun gave off, before you were brightening up even further at the bundle he was holding in his hands.

Soft petals in different shades of yellow, some duller and some standing out to shine like the sun, but it was a stunning bunch all over, and he’d been sure to pick the freshest and best-looking plants from each pot as he built the bouquet especially for you before leaving for his delivery. He let you stare at them for a second, running a finger over some of the petals, sniffling the collection carefully, and admiring each individual plant, before finally looking back up to him, a brow raising as you waited for an explanation on the plants.

“I just thought yellow was a bright colour. Nothing particularly special about these ones, I wanted to cheer you up.”

He scratched nervously at the back of his neck, and you hummed happily, bringing them up to admire once again, before letting out a happy little sound from the back of your throat, one that made his cheeks flush with embarrassed warmth, bringing a pink tinge to the pale skin. “Don’t yellow roses mean friendship?”

His stomach dropped a little, but he swallowed thickly, and nodded. He was impressed that you knew that, a random fact to know, but he almost felt like he was being friend-zoned by the statement, even though he was the one who’d given you the flowers. It was only a few days ago that he’d realised he might have feelings that weren’t going away any time soon, the original fascination and infatuation was becoming something a little deeper, he often found himself thinking of you when he was at work and filling or orders, or at home cooking, or even letting his morning coffee. You seemed to be on his mind a lot nowadays, and he was beginning to regret the yellow rose choice, worried he’d sent the wrong message. How ironic.

“Well, I’m really glad you consider us friends, Chris. I think you’re great, and I hope we’re friends for a long time.”

He tried to contain his disappointment, nodding his head as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. Walking you up to the front door, both of the receptionists made a point of fawning dramatically over the flowers in your arms as you signed back in, exactly an hour later and perfectly on time for the end of your lunch break, but with a lot more joy and a rejuvenation for the work you were doing, enough to carry you through the rest of your day.

Standing at the elevator and waiting for it to arrive, his cheeks were warm enough as it was, the attention you were getting front he not-so-discreet spying of the receptionists making him even more nervous, but if Angie and Clara were watching then that's their choice, because he didn’t have much left to lose, now.

Cupping your cheeks in his hands, he made sure that you were looking at him, a soft and shy smile on your lips as he thumbs smoothed over your skin, trying to reassure you without using words. “Chin up, sweetheart. You’re gonna’ be just fine, okay?”

“Okay, Chris.” You nodded your head, words whispered as you agreed with him, and when he pulled you a little closer, you tipped your head to meet him, his lips pressing to your forehead in a tender kiss, his heart leaping in his chest as you did. The elevator dinged, and he snapped away from you, both of you lingering for a moment longer, something unspoken laying between you, but it was broken as a colleague stepped out of the box, excusing himself as he squeezed past you, and the moment was over.

Waving goodbye, he wiggled his fingers in response to you, and he took a moment to himself to steady his racing heart once the doors had closed with you inside. He bid his farewell to the two women ogling him with wide eyes from behind the desk, trying not to let his nervousness show, to be confident like Mark had taught him to be, and it lasted all the way to the car, before he broke it with a ragged sigh and a little cheer to himself, immediately dialling his best friend on the car’s phone as he pulled out of the parking lot.

It was the kind eyes of Angie that met him as he stepped into the building, palms sweating a little and a shake to his breath, and the flowers in his arms were practically vibrating with nerves as he approached the front desk. Placing them down on the glass surface, she admired them quietly, taking a look at them all before he was being offered the candy dish that she usually had hidden, and he took a peppermint gratefully, red and green swirls along it through the clear wrapping, the festive theme of the late December days was shining through.

“Only the one bouquet this time?”

“They, uh, they aren’t for Mr McKinley.” He mumbled, unwrapping the hard sweet and shoving it wrapped into his pocket, placing the treat on his tongue and sucking on it lightly for something to do, sweetened mint flavours exploding over his senses.

“Oh, so these are a pretty bouquet for our lovely (Y/N), then?”

He could only nod, wondering absently whether or not sweat was beginning to physically show through his shirt, and just how fast his heart was going, because he felt like he was about to pass out. “I think she’s in a meeting right now, but I can get them sent up for her, if that works for you, my dear?”

“Can I just go and drop them off in her office? It’ll make a nice surprise for her to come back to.”

She considered it for a moment, mulling over the security risk and all other options, and he was ready to give up, before she eventually agreed. “Alright, but only if you tell me about the flowers. She’s been telling me all about the pretty bouquet you make with meanings, even showed me your website.”

“She did? She does?”

Pride flushed through his system at that knowledge, and Angie seemed to pick up on it, her face cracking in an even wider smile. “Yes, and they were all beautiful, but I don’t remember this set on there.”

“It’s new, I made it. It’s a personal one, I suppose.”

“It got a name, yet?” He mulled it over, staring down at the pretty bunch in his hands. Dark shades of blue and black, splashes of purple that were speckled with white, and he decided it resembled the night sky rather nicely.

“What do you think of ‘Starry Night’?”

“Very fitting.” She confirmed, and his heart managed to slow a little in his chest as at least one thing on his to-do list became sorted. “So, blue roses, but what are the rest?”

“They would be black pansies and gypsophila.” She hummed, continuing to fix him with that curious gaze, and he knew that wasn't going to cut it. “The blue roses are for mystery, and gaining the impossible. I dye them myself. Black pansies mean broken love, which, I guess isn’t totally suitable here, but combined with the gypsophila, it’s more like the chance of a new beginning, and not necessarily unrequited feelings.”

“You really like her, huh?”

“That obvious?” He grinned, knowing that his feelings may as well be lit up with a neon sign above his head. “You’ll get them to her after her meeting, then?”

“Of course, I will.” She took them over the desk, writing down a memo on her notepad so that she didn't forget, and he watched as the pretty bundle was carried away. “Did you leave a card, or do you want to write a note?”

“Just tell her to text me if she likes them?” She beamed, nodding her head, and he backed away, turning on his heel, a little disappointed that he didn’t get to give them to you himself, but simultaneously relieved at the fact, because he could feel his pulse racing right to the tips of his fingers with how intense it was.

You’d clearly had a busy day, because it wasn’t until Chris was shutting up shop that he finally felt his phone buzz, doing his last check over of all the systems and machines, when a text from you came in, diverting every ounce of attention that he had.

[stardust 🌌 ✨] so, do these flowers have a hidden meaning, or did you just put them together because they look good?

He grinned at his phone, shaking his head slightly as a laugh left his lips, and he leaned on the wall, fingers hovering over the keyboard as he thought out his response.

> a little bit of both.

It was a few minutes before you replied, this time, a photograph coming through, of you carrying your flower out of the building, setting off towards the elevators from your office, if he was depicting the background correctly.

[stardust 🌌 ✨] gonna tell me what it is, or do I have to google it?

He paused, not quite having got that far, and the relief of not having to explain his feelings or you before had drowned out the fact that he’d have to tell you at some point, and his heart was leaping into his throat.

He gave himself a minute, checking over the locks and windows to make sure everything was sealed up, setting the thermostat and setting the alarm, not yet activating it, but making sure that everything was done, right down to holding his keys for the main door in his hands. Locking up the building, he sealed down the metal guard, triple checking the padlock, and making his way to the car.

Engine on, heaters up, his lights being the last to flood the parking lot as he tried to man up, before finally bringing back up the unopened message, taking the notifications and opening his texts.

> long story short, I’m trying to ask you out. using flowers, because words normally fail me in times of importance.

He let out a slow breath, running a hand over his face and just hoping that it was acceptable, his phone buzzing before he’d even managed to start up the car property for his journey home. His hand hovered over where it was laying on the passenger seat, considering whether or not to pick it up, before forcing down his nerves and reaching for it.

[stardust 🌌 ✨] friday night work for you?

He stared at the message for a few seconds, confirming that they were real, and he wasn’t just making it up because it’s what he wanted to read, before letting out a loud and victorious set of cheers for only him to ever know about.

> I’ll pick you up from your work at 5.

Chris was sitting in one of the white leather chairs that had been scattered around the lobby, shifting slightly awkwardly, nerves getting the best of him. He knew you wouldn't stand him up, but as the clock ticked over past 5:10 PM, he worried a little that you were trying to find a way to let him down, having decided that you’d changed your mind on wanting to go out with him, and he tried to steady his nerves.

Brushing over the flowers in his hands, he adjusted his grip on them a little, not wanting the plastic to become damp with his sweaty palms, and swallowing thickly again. Finally, the elevator doors chimed, and he let out a nervous sigh, taking a deep breath and sliding his eyes shut as he calmed himself down, certain that his heart no longer had a rhythm and was just beating erratically and rapidly like the seismograph in a disaster movie.

Twisting his head a little, he let out a deep breath, watching as you came toward him, looking far more casual than he had ever seen you ever had before. Jeans and jumper, a striped scarf that looked suspiciously handmade in the sweetest of ways, and sneakers on your feet instead of heels, dropping your height down by a few inches, and he was so used to looking straight at you, never needing to look down, that it caught him a little by surprise.

“I’m sorry I’m late!” You looked a little flushed, sounded slightly out of breath, and he realised you must’ve been rushing, not stalling, and he felt a little calmer at that thought. Placing down the flowers on the chairs, he stood up properly, letting out a slow breath.

“Don’t worry about it. You look beautiful.”

“I thought I’d change, heels and pencil skirts are great for work, but not so comfy for a first date.” There was a bag on your arm, which he assumed your business-wear was stuffed in, and he gave himself a moment to take you in. He liked you better this way, you looked more like yourself, the version of you that he knew you to be from hours of late-night calls and texting, weeks of getting to know one another, both in-person and via messages, and the formal outfits he was so used to seeing you in were just a cover for the real you.

He realised he’d been staring too long, jumping slightly in his panic, before turning away and grabbing the bundle that he’d brought with him. “I brought you flowers. Not as special as normal guys, since I own the flower shop and it's not the first time, but I did create this bouquet design just for you.”

“I think it’s pretty special.” Your words were whispered, taking the bundle of flowers and bringing them into yourself to admire delicately, a combination of red and white roses, with green bells peppered throughout. “Okay, so, let me guess on this one.”

He only nodded his head, watching as you considered the bundle, licking over your lower lip and taking it hostage between your teeth as your thoughts whirled before his very eyes.

“White roses are innocence, right? Seems fitting for a first date. Red roses are romance, of course.” You smirked a little then, glancing up at him through your lashes, and he grinned, feeling totally at ease now that he was under your gaze. “What about the green ones?”

“Green bells. They’re for good luck.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll need any luck, you’ve pretty much already got me wrapped around your little finger, Chris Beck.” You adjusted the flowers in your arms, taking his hand with your other one, and lacing your fingers together, and he squeezed back in security as heat flooded over his face in a warm blush. “However, I do think it’s sweet, so I’ll accept it.”

“I wanted to do something Christmassy for you, but I didn’t want to go with any of the typical ones. Holly, mistletoe, poinsettia, they didn’t feel unique enough.”

“I don’t know, I think mistletoe can be good.” You leaned in a little, his brows raising slightly as your wide smile dimmed down, the humour of the moment changing, and his free hand found your waist, fingers playing with yours on the other, and he pulled you a little closer, taking the hint that you were laying down.

“Maybe just this once.” He teased, nose bumping against your own, and he could still taste the sweet honey on your breath from the herbal teas you were always concocting, warm breath shared between you. As your head twisted to close the gap, he became acutely aware of the lingering feeling of not being alone, the both of you jumping and snapping apart a little when the loud crashing of a mug on the floor sounded out loudly.

Two sets of voices cursing followed it, Angie’s and Clara’s heads both ducking down behind the desk as they looked at the mess on the floor, and his jaw dropped as he released the two had been watching on eagerly this whole time, and he’d been so wrapped up in you that he hadn't realised there’d been an audience all along.

He would’ve been embarrassed, had it not been for the way your face pressed into his shoulder as you tried to contain your laughs, and he found the amusement in it too, his arm slipping around your waist as he matched your laugher, shaking his head as he watched the two women try and clear up the split coffee and smashed mug.

“Hey, ladies, I’ll see you Monday!”

The popped back up, sheepish looks on their faces as they nodded, and he gave them both a little wave, letting you tug him along by the hand that was still connected to your own, towards the open doorway of the building, a chill rolling in. As you stepped out, a chill took over, and his hand slipped from yours to sliding around your waist instead, pulling you closer to him, and you guided him over to where your car was parked, and he was more than happy to simply follow.

“So, what do you have planned?”

“I thought something a little more relaxed would be fun. How do you feel about a tree lighting ceremony, and some street food?” You curled into him a little more, a happy sigh leaving you.

“Sounds perfect to me.”

Unlocking the car, he let you go, long enough to put your back in the trunk and lay your flowers out on the front seat, locking it back up as you deemed yourself ready to go. “Ready to go?”

“Yes, but just one thing, first. Something I’ve been waiting weeks for.”

His brows raised, lips parting to ask you waist it was, but your hand latched onto the front of his shirt, tugging him forward as you leaned up, and he groaned a little, a soft sound but vibrating through him as your mouth closed over his, soft and warm, lips pressing together, and a shock ran along his entire body. His hand slipped to your waist, one cupping your cheek as he pulled you a little closer, pressing you back into the car as your bodies came flush up together, and he felt like his legs were going to give out underneath him as you sighed out against his mouth, a breathy moan carried with it.

Twisting his head to the side, he barely pulled back for breath before he was diving right back into you, more confident and passionate this time with his movements. He took control, feeling the way you sagged into his hands as he did, lips working with yours in an intimate dance of their own making, slow and teasing movements, before finally he was pulling away, just far enough to press his forehead to your own as the two of you panted lightly, trying to catch your breath.

“Worth the wait?” He mused, feeling your breathless giggle wash over his lips, before you were leaning up just enough to peck his lips once more, and his lips were still pouted, chasing after you as you backed away for a second, before he was licking over them and cracking his eyes open to look at the adoring expression on your face.

“Definitely worth the wait.”

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

Hiding From the War We Claim to Fight For

Dick Winters x Reader

Chapter 2- Like Darkness Drawn to the Night

Summary: Dick considers how to make ammends while you are reminded of your position in the Airborne

Warnings: ANGST AGAIN, some backstory, more internal monologue than any of you crazy cats asked or signed up for, nix being a smug little bitch, some wildly inaccurate and made up military rules, my usual nonsense

Title and Chapter name taken from The Hollow in Retrospect by Corey Kilgannon

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dick’s fingers hovered over the keys of the typewriter, fingers starting to shake from inaction as he stared at the row of blank paper waiting to be filled.

How anyone could write reports all day was beyond him.

 He’d rather relive each and every scorching run up and down Currahee while under enemy fire than compose another sentence, let alone an entire document. More than anything, he wished he could just write in the straightforward, bullet point style that SInk and Nix’s intelligence reports came in.

Briefly, Dick wondered if it was this difficult for everyone else in the military, or if he was just uniquely inept.

 Whenever he saw you writing reports, your fingers danced over the keys like a concert pianist. You made it look easy.

The thought of you brings back the sour feeling in his stomach, an anxious nausea rolling over him like a rogue wave. His blood was both too hot and too cold in his veins, the sight of your heartbroken face carved into the inside of his eyelids.

 “You made me part of it…. You stood there and did nothing to stop it.”

 He couldn't deny your accusations of negligence, even though every fiber in his body ached to reject such claims. When had he lost that part of his humanity? Where had it gone? He’d had it in England, he knew he had still felt it in Normandy….maybe it was after Hall died? 

Had he left it on that hillside in Sainte Marie du Mont, as he watched the city down the way exploding in fire and fury?

 It scared him- to think that he hadn’t even felt the man he’d been slipping away.

Had it been obvious to anyone else?

Had it been obvious to you?

 Forcing himself to refocus on his report, he reread the last part he’d written and frowned. He’d reached the part in his report of the October 5th report that he’d been dreading: the part where you got hurt….

 When the men had brought Alley back from the Crossroads, Dick had thought them lucky that only Moe had sustained injuries- serious ones but non-life threatening.

It hadn’t been until Joe Liebgott suddenly looked around in fear and asked if anyone had seen you that Dick realized that this wasn’t just a matter of re-securing a border anymore.

It was a body retrieval.

 He hadn’t even had time to get angry or scared or confused as to why you were out so close to the frontlines before he’d gotten whatever men he could together to retake the Crossroads, his sense of duty and obligation taking over his more emotional mind and giving it a purpose by way of distraction.

You weren’t in the dike where Liebgott had assumed you’d fallen, something that provided little comfort for both Dick and the men who’d grown to love you like a sister. While no body usually meant that there was still hope of life, the fact that you could’ve very well been taken squandered any such optimism.

No body, no answers.

 When Dick had thrown himself off of the dirt road and slid into the dike for cover, it had been your whimper of pain that had brought life back into his body. Somehow, he’d managed to get his hand over your mouth before you could make much of a sound, your eyes wide and bright in the dark as he stared down at you in relieved wonder.

 You must’ve been laying out in the cold for at least an hour, your calf bleeding steadily as you shivered in the damp muck of the grassy slope. As carefully as he could, he’d rolled his body over yours in a desperate hope to offer you some warmth, his heart going a thousand miles a minute as he processed the fact that you weren’t dead- that there was still a chance of you making it out of this alive.

 “Are you hit?” he asked as quietly as he could, watching as his breath moved the hairs that had fallen loose around your face like some gentle breeze.

You nodded, knocking your left knee against his leg to indicate where you had been injured. He realized he still had his hand clamped over your mouth and lifted it up slowly, worried that you might make another pained sound and give away your position.

“Not bad,” you hissed, your jaw tight as you tried to keep your voice quiet. “Bad ricochet…. Moe? The guys—?”

“Safe.”

 You’d let out a sigh of relief, swallowing a few times before seeming to refocus and process what Dick’s being there probably meant.

“A truck with three men passed about six minutes ago,” you sighed, and Dick could feel your hands move from your sides to slide between both of your stomachs to start pulling at your belt. His face went red and he quickly rolled off of you, eyes wide at the insinuation of the act before realizing that you were trying to give him something to make a tourniquet out of. 

 He knocked your lethargic hands out of the way and helped you slide it from your belt loops, wrapping an arm around your waist to unclip your holster that was inhibiting the belt’s release. 

“Just you?” you had asked, exhaustion from blood loss beginning to stain your voice.

Dick sighed a ‘no’, looking back the way he’d come from before looking back down at you.

“I’ll be back,” he had promised, looping the belt around your leg and securing it just below your knee. “I’ll come back, okay?”

Your hands took the tail of the belt from his and pulled, your face drawing in pain as you nodded.

“Go, go!”

 He stops typing, his mouth feeling dry and his hands feeling clammy.

It made him uncomfortable to think that you’d been angry with him even then, that you’d been angry with him for a long time and he hadn’t even realized it. You’d been so brave, squeezing your eyes shut as he and Tab poured sulfa powder on the wound and muffling your cries of discomfort into the palm of his hand as you held it to your mouth.

Dick wondered briefly if you’d ever let him touch you again, even if it were only to save your life.

 You meant more to him than he cared to admit or think about. You hating him hadn’t changed that.

When you’d brought up the kiss you two had shared in England, you’d used the past tense- ‘the feelings I had for you’.

Selfishly, Dick supposed that he’d automatically assumed that you were still harboring your affections for him- that you would wait until he felt comfortable enough to share his own feelings of mutual admiration and that things would easily fall into place.

It made him feel stupid. It made him feel foolish.

He wondered if this was how you’d been made to feel after Alderborne.

If so, he had more to apologize than he thought.

 Make amends the voice in his head whispered. Do your job and make it better.

He didn’t know what that meant, not really. He didn’t know how to even start.

What he did know? He couldn’t do anything until he finished this report.

So, leaning on his sense of duty, he brought his fingers to the keys and began to clack away.

 ~

 Dick’s report felt heavy in your hand as you waited for his orderly to alert him to your presence, anxiety churning your stomach like a storming sea. It took far too much effort on your part to maintain your professional facade these days, and judging by the noticeable tremble of the papers in your hand, your mask was starting to crack. Even Sink had made a remark about how on edge you seemed, doubt clear on his face when you tried to brush his concern off as nothing more than homesickness.

 You should’ve known better than to try and lie to Robert Sink, he’d known you too well and too long for you to get much past him. It didn’t happen often, but you could swear that there were moments where he looked at you like you were still the messy-haired little girl who played war in the woods with his children after holiday meals- his eager-eyed niece who would climb into his lap and beg for him to recount the far off adventures he’d just returned from.

 Now that you’d had a chance to share one of these adventures with him, you wondered if he regretted indulging your fascinations. You doubted he’d ever tell you either way. 

That was just the sort of man he was.

Those were the sort of men you now surrounded yourself with.

 When you tried to imagine one of your future nieces or nephews crawling into your lap and asking you for stories, you were alarmed by the fact that you had unintentionally imagined Dick sitting by your side.

 Before you fully process why that had been where your mind went, Zielinski returned and gave you the go-ahead to enter the office.

 You felt an instant shot of relief when you saw that Dick wasn’t alone, the presence of Lewis and Harry calming your frayed nerves significantly. While you knew in your heart that Dick was not a bad person, that he hadn’t done what he did maliciously, you still weren’t sure what to make of your anger towards him.

 The moment you step in the doorway, Dick shoots to his feet and for a moment you think he’s about to stand at attention. Briefly, you wonder if Zielinski had accidentally told him to expect Sink coming in- and if the way Harry and Lewis start to confusedly copy his formality, they are just as confused as you are.

 But you knew Zielinski hadn’t mentioned Sink. You’d been right next to him when he’d said your name.

That made your face feel hot for a reason you didn’t dare explore right now.

 Everyone in the room stands awkwardly and stares at each other for a second, and with a confidence you didn’t truly have you attempt to break the tension.

“Uh- at ease, gentlemen?”

 Harry snorts a laugh at that, plopping back down with Nixon following suit. You don't miss the look Nix shoots Dick’s way, but you aren’t able to decipher it. Maybe that was for the best.

 “Well, would you look at that?” Harry says with a beaming smile. “Look who’s decided to grace us with her presence this morning.”

You roll your eyes at that, giving Nix a quick nod in greeting before fixing Harry with a look as you walk further into the room. 

“Oh Harry, when I decide to grace you with anything you’ll know it.”

He shoots you a wink as Nix huffs a laugh at the interaction.

You can feel Dick’s eyes on you, and when you turn to face him you feel your easy smile tighten and you give him a nod.

 “Sir.”

“Y/L/N.”

 The air between the two of you is thick with unspoken tension, stained with guilt and frustration and the remnants of affection that made the feeling all the more painful. You could see a similar trepidation on his face, your throat feeling tight as you choke back all of the things you wish you could say.

 Lewis, clearly feeling the awkwardness as well but kindly not letting it linger, quickly breaks the silence.

“You want to sit, Y/N? Heard you got shot at the crossroads….”

 Dick’s eyes flicker to your leg and then he’s quick to reach over and rip his coat off of the wooden chair to the left of his desk. You sigh a laugh, mumbling a quick ‘thanks’ before carefully lowering yourself into the seat.

“I think I fall somewhere in between shot and grazed, but yes you heard right—”

“Oh yeah!” Harry adds, leaning into the sill of the window as he crosses his arms across his chest. “Lucky you weren’t at CP. heard they got hit pretty bad….”

You feel your mood darken slightly at the reminder of Holly’s death. He was a good man. All of the men who had died that day were good men.

“Yeah,“ you mutter as brightly as you can. “All things considered.”

 You clear your throat and look hesitantly at Dick.

“That’s uh, actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

You hand him the file in your hand and give him a nod of thanks when he comes closer so you don’t have to get up. 

 “Sink’s hoping he can get you to rewrite the report on that—”

“Oh?” Dick’s pale brows furrow as he looks at the paper to see that it is indeed his report on the crossroads. “Was something wrong with it? Did I miss a signature? Was it too vague—?”

“No, no!” you interrupt, having heard through the grapevine how hard he’d worked on it. “Nothing like that! It’s um, the opposite, actually.....”

 Dick frowns at that, and you hesitate for a moment while you try to find the right words to express what Sink needed fixed.

“Sink, um, was hoping you could rewrite some of it. Specifically….” You look down to pick at an imaginary thread on your pant leg. “he needs a report that doesn’t include the fact that I was there—”

You feel his eyes on you, and the room is unbearably quiet as you clear your throat and continue to look anywhere but Dick’s direction. You catch Nix’s gaze, and you can tell he knows what you’re getting at.

“I…” Dick begins, his voice quiet. When you see Harry’s head turn to look in his direction you do the same and catch him looking at Nixon as well. “I’m not sure I understand…”

 Harry, never one to stay still for long, chooses this moment to pop to his feet and announce that he’s getting himself some coffee. You all mumble your own acknowledgments to his intention, and he saunters off like a kid who was just told he didn’t have to stay for detention. 

 When Dick’s eyes fall on you again, you begin to tap your fingers on your thigh nervously.

“Well, I’m still technically just an orderly, at least on paper, so—”

 “—So having you injured in the line of duty is a direct violation of your service agreement.” Lewis interrupts, saving you from your tongue-tied stupor. Dick’s frown deepens, and when he looks back at you you nod in confirmation. 

“What he said,” you say with a bitter taste in your mouth. “It’s just a minor adjustment, otherwise it’s a perfect report, Dick—”

He holds up a hand, narrowing his eyes as he processes what you and Nixon have just said. Once upon a time, you would’ve found the look on his face endearing and it would’ve made you smile. 

But not right now. 

 “That doesn’t seem right.” he finally settles on, smoothing a hand over his already perfectly combed hair before setting his hands on his narrow hips.

 You couldn’t agree more. It wasn’t right.

You’d implied as much to Sink when he’d tasked you with getting Dick to amend the report earlier than morning, a strange embarrassment bringing tears to your eyes at the notion that the simple mention of you ruined an entire report. 

 Were you such an intolerable figure that by simply being referred to in an official document brought into question the credibility of a successful engagement? 

 Sink, giving you a look that you recognized from your childhood moments of petulance, had clapped a hand on your shoulder and given it a familiar squeeze.

“It isn’t fair, you’re right about that. I wish I could tell you otherwise, but the powers that be just ain’t ready for someone like you- not yet. Don’t take it to heart. You’re smarter than the lot of ‘em.”

 “The terms of my service are pretty clear that I in no way should be anywhere near combat,” you heard yourself parrot hollowly. “Colonel Sink is just trying to keep me from getting sent home—”

 “But you were shot.”

 The ferocity in his tone surprises you, and when you see him angrily shaking his head from side to side you send Lewis a pleading look.

Taking the cue perfectly, Nix stands up again and clears his throat as he elaborates on your behalf.

 “If she’s shot back at CP, that’s one thing. It’s where she’s supposed to be as an orderly. But If she’s shot ‘in the line of duty’, she’s considered an active servicemember- and active service members who get wounded are eligible for a Purple Heart, which would make her a soldier—”

 “—and then you’d have the right to a soldier’s pension.” Dick finishes Nixon’s sentence, his jaw working as he looks ruefully at the report in his hands.

 Nix snaps and points a finger at him. “Bingo.”

 Your frustration from earlier has begun to boil your blood again, and your feet nearly itch with the need to leave the conversation and the suffocating feeling of the office.

As you push yourself up to stand, Dick and Nix move to help you- only stopping at your assurance that you’d got it under control.

Looking back at Dick, you fix him with a look that you hope conveys the importance of what you’re asking.

 “I was able to buy you an extra two days, but the sooner Sink gets it the sooner he gets off of your back about it.”

Dick nods, tossing the pages down atop all of the other paperwork on top of the desk.

“Yeah, understood.”

“Hey, Dick—?”

 Something in the set of his shoulders gave you pause, and you realize you aren't really sure what else you wanted to say to him. 

Sorry I called you a monster? I think I was angrier at myself than anything else? I don’t think you’re a bad person at all, and I am sorry if I made you think that I did?

 But you can’t say any of those things- not yet and not with Nix here.

So you settle on another tight smile and a nod.

“Thank you. I know it’s….you’ve got a lot going—”

 The strained smile he gives you back tells you that he feels it too, that he knows there is still an ocean of unresolved conflict between the two of you. That he is just as sorry about it as you are.

“Don’t give it another thought. I’ll take care of it.”

 With a final nod, you murmur a goodbye to Lewis and leave the office

~

 The moment you are out of earshot Nix smirks like the cat that ate the canary.

“Told you she still liked you.”

“Shut up, Lewis.”

 Dick hoped his friend was right.

~ ~ ~

HELLO MY SPECTACULAR STARFISH HERE’S SOME MORE NONSENSE AND FEELINGS FOR YOU TO DIGEST! I TOTALLY MADE UP THE RULES AS TO WHY READER CAN’T BE IN LE REPORT SO PLZ DONT YELL AT ME I’M SENSITIVE OK I LOVE YOU BYYEEE!!!

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