#I like having crushes i often say but now ive tried having one this close and actually it hurts

[mrfoox]

Having an crush on someone you meet weekly 1on1 sucks, I don't know how people live like this

[vex91]

Ahn Yujin - Jealousy, jealousy

Pairing: Ahn Yujin x Female Reader (Highschool AU)

Fandom: IZ*ONE / IVE

Summary: You hated how perfect Ahn Yujin was or maybe you just hated her but only if you knew the hatred wasn't reciprocated then maybe you would realize stuff sooner.

A/N: Of course Yujin needs to be the first fic on this blog 🙂‍↕️

3rd's POV

Ahn Yujin.

She was the definition of perfection. Perfect grades, perfect looks, perfect personality, perfect friends and perfect family - it was so hard to find any bad thing about her.

You on the other hand weren't that. Your grades were average at best, you weren't as pretty as her, your personality was often talked about as annoying, you only had 2 friends for your whole life and your relationship with your parents was shitty.

You were jealous of her whole life and it only fueled your hatred.

"Y/N come here" You looked up at the sound of your best friend's voice. Smiling you walked over to her "Rei, you're unusually cheerful today. Something finally happened between you and Jiwon?" Rei slapped your shoulder at your remark and shushed you quickly since Jiwon was close by with her friends. Well Jiwon knew about Rei's crush on her so you didn't know what Rei wanted to hide exactly but it's her business.

"Are you coming to that party at Gaeul's house?" Your best friend asked causing you to raise an eyebrow until you realized what she was talking about.

"I don't know, all annoying people from our school are gonna be there" Rei rolled her eyes at your comment before shaking your arm "Come on, it's gonna be fun. Me and Jiwon are going" The thought of going to a where you would see Yujin's face and also third-wheeling your best friends wasn't the most tempting one but you could never say no when Rei made that face.

"Fine but you're the one explaining everything to my parents when they find out"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here she was - Ahn Yujin in all her glory having fun with her friends. Honestly you should've guessed that she was gonna be there since it was her best friend's party but you really tried not to think about her and destroy your mood. As long as she would stay away from you then the party won't be so bad, you just need to focus on your friends.

It's easier said than done because it seemed like wherever you went, she was right there too.

You tried to keep your cool but it was harder and harder until you couldn't hold it in anymore and you exploded on her when she finally approached you.

Her reaction wasn't what you expected, she was standing still and completely not affected by your harsh words. It even amused her as she kept looking at you with a small smirk.

"What?"

Yujin shrugged "Nothing much, you just look cute when you're trying to yell at me from down there" You became red at her words, so now she was making fun of your height? This girl was unbelievable.

"Why are you always so-"

"So in love with you?"

You quickly closed your mouth, your ears became red at her words. Out if everything you weren't expecting that but honestly it was Yujin, she couldn't have been serious.

"Stop joking around"

"I'm not. Remember when you got so angry at the fact I won that science contest and destroyed my project after? I kept the pieces because they remind me how cute you looked that day when you were so determined to win. Or when you pushed me into water during our school trip to the beach, your laugh when you were with your friends later stayed in my head. I love everything about you" During her whole speech you were silent, the whole time you thought that she hated you, just like you hated her but now you're finding out it wasn't like that?

"Do you really hate her though"

Rei's words kept coming back to you as you stared at Yujin but the moment was interrupted by your phone suddenly calling. You looked down and cursed when you saw your mom's name displayed on it.

"I need to go" You quickly said and tried to push past her but she quickly held your hand to stop you. Without another word she walked you out of the house and onto the cold streets. Before the cold could hit you though she put on her jacket on you.

"I'll walk you home" Yujin loudly announced and before you could protest she added "I don't take no as an answer. You can hate me later, right now you look like you can't be alone... at least in my eyes" The staring competition between you two continued until you gave up and led the way while Yujin quietly followed after you with her hands in her pockets.

The whole way home was spend in silence, the only sound that could be heard were the cars passing by from time to time. Yujin felt weird seeing you like that, you rarely kept yourself from making some snarky comments to her that made her day every time. Weird but Yujin just liked any sort of communication she had with you, even if it was you being angry with her.

It was clear it was because of your family, Yujin could feel the cold aura coming off of the house from miles away, it was far from the place you would want to come back to. And seeing you clenching your fists before going to the door assured her of that and Yujin immediately stopped you. She didn't want you to in there.

You looked up at her confused and Yujin only looked away embarrassed. She thought of what to say before muttering "I can walk you to Rei's house, I'm sure she's back home and would be happy to let you stay the night" It looked like the idea was tempting to you but the fear of your parents made you hesitate. Yujin squeezed your hand and let you think about it more and soon you only nodded.

At Rei's house your parents kept blowing your phones with calls and messages but you didn't really care at that moment when you could only look at Yujin's disappearing figure with mixed feelings.

What was that night?

[mydearfantasy]

When they’re insecure 🖤

Characters: Diluc & Albedo

Summary: You’ve been hanging out with someone close to them and they begin to doubt themselves

Genre: Angst to fluff

Part two with Razor and Bennet coming soon :)

DILUC

For a man of many qualities, he was sorely lacking in social skills

It was truly a blessing that he’d managed to land such a sweetheart as you, your relationship in its early infancy

Kind, caring, beautiful, beloved by all... by all...all... by the forever nuisance in his life, his dearest brother

Many a night he watched the two of you laugh and joke in a booth at the bar. You had came to accomply him on his shift, but he was too busy dealing with all the customers to pay you enough attention, attention that kaeya had quickly taken for himself

Had he ever made you laugh so? It took him months to form a bond with you, had it taken Kaeya mere days? Were the two of you more compatible?

The already ever present frown grows deeper, scaring off whatever customers were present. Anger which was bubbling fervently inside him was soon replaced with crippling doubt.

You... you weren’t going to leave him, right? You’d spent precious moments together, moments that helped lift the heavy burdens of his ever present torments. The loneliness that he felt deep within himself dissipated whenever you were by his side... he couldn’t stand to lose you

He finishes his shift early that night, the unsettling feeling forming a pit in his stomach, deciding to leave without you, uncertain of what not so kind words would be directed towards his brother should be encounter him

Was he really going to lose you to kaeya?

Only several meters out of the bar, he hears footsteps rapidly approaching, he prepares himself to deal with whoever dared to make his night even worse

But it was you, an arm slipping into his, a look of concern plastered on you face

“Is everything alright? You left without saying anything.” He doesn’t have the heart to take his arm away, resigning himself to his fate. Perhaps... you’d be happier... with someone else. Even if that someone is Kaeya

What could be even offer you? Aside from gifts and riches. He was forever absent, awkward in conversation. He didn’t believe possess an ounce genuine charm, aside from his gentlemanly facade.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he tentatively begins, already feeling that the end is in sight, “You looked like... you were having a good time. I didn’t want to disturb you.” Eyes downcast, he prepares himself for the words he says next “If...if there’s someone else you’d rather spend your time with... that’s... alright. I won’t hold you back. Please, do what makes you happy.” He truly only wanted your happiness... even...even if it wasn’t with him

You manoeuvre in front of him, clasping both of your hands in his, “ What are you talking about? Kaeya was talking about you! He was telling me what you were like as a kid! I couldn’t get anything out of you... so I thought I’d ask him!” A mischievous grin forming on your face, “He told me all about how you couldn’t sleep without your stuffed dragon, how you still couldn’t say spaghetti correctly until you were 15-“

You’re cut off mid sentence by his arms enveloping you in a bone crushing hug, immense relief flooding through him, smiling softly, you return the embrace.

You realise the reason for his actions, it leaves you feeling guilty inside. he was insecure. Scared. You’d do whatever you could to remidy it. “It’s alright Diluc, I’m not charmed quite so easily.” You whisper gently, wanting nothing more to comfort him and ease the guilt you felt for making him feel so troubled

Looking into his eyes, you steady his face against your palm, “You’re the only one for me. I assure you,”

He leans in, looking deep into your eyes for confirmation, that your word is pure and true.

Satisfied, he seals the deal with a soft kiss on the lips

ALBEDO

Truly doesn’t notice it at first

He trusted you, of course he did, so he didn’t think anything of you hanging out with Timeous

That is, until you were too busy to spend time with him

He took some time to relfect then, noticing that you spent time with him and timeous whenever you came to visit, offering him words of encouragement on his tasks when you noticed his struggles

An unpleasant feeling begins to rise in his chest. One that he has never felt before

He takes more time to confirm that’s what’s causing his discomfort, not wanting to act without complete evidence

He can admit himself that he lacks experience in relationships, often feeling uncertain about how to proceed

You always seemed happy. Eager to help him with his experiments, laying his head in your lap after a long day so you could read to him

What had went wrong?

He thinks for a long time, trying to find a cause and solution

Perhaps he hadn’t spent enough time with you. His experiments were time consuming, often not very interesting for those not involved in alchemy, had Timeous provided the affection you were in need of?

He decided the only way to remedy this problem was to approach you, despite the unfamiliar nerves rising in his chest

You’d already changed his life for the better, made his days even more exciting, finding new enjoyment outside of alchemy, to continue on without you... was that even possible?

Pouring steaming mugs of coffee for the two of you, he sets them on the table in front of you, greeting you with a quick hello, making haste, seeing no reason to delay dealing with the problem

He could always resolve problems, but, what if this was one he couldn’t? He tried to bury thoughts like those before they had a chance to rise to the surface.

Cool eyes regard you over the steam, suddenly unsure where to start. Setting the mug down, he begins. “Ive noticed that a lot of your time has been dedicated towards Timeous as of late. Being a personal friend of mine, It is easy to acknowledge that many are drawn to his kindness.” He watched your brows furrowed in confusion, mouth almost open and ready to rebute him, but he continues on. “ I want satisfactory experiences for both of us. For us to continue forward, I believe it would be best to address the problem at hand.” Now he felt the nerves rising, sticky and prickly in his chest. What words would he hear next? “I... want our relationship to continue past this. I do not think it would be pleasant... if it ended so soon. Whatever issue there is, I want to fix it. Together.” Now, the dreaded question, “...Why is Timeous occupying so much of your time?”

The question hangs in the air for a minute, unsure of how to proceed. Had he felt like this for a while? Scared as to why you weren’t spending time with him?

You reach out, sensing the implications behind his words, clasping his gloved hands in yours, “You have nothing to worry about Albedo. Truthfully, you always looked busy. Concentrated. A little... tense. I didn’t want to bother you. I know how much you dedicate yourself to your craft, I didn’t want to distract you from that.” You smile sadly, realising you caused a problem as you tried to prevent one. “You’re the only one for me, I swear it.” Your smile picks up, hoping to comfort him,giving his hands a soft squeeze, “My chalk prince.”

A smile returns to his own face, relief flooding through him. “I’m truly glad of that. To proceed forward on this path without you... it doesn’t bear thinking about.”

You finish your drinks, hearts as warm as the mugs in hand.

[saturnsstufff]

okay as a chubby girl myself I struggle with how I see myself and this idea makes my heart KSHDHSJS

okay so imagine IMAGINE

Request maybe 🤔🤔🤔

Okay,, you’re standing in the mirror yk in your mirror at technos house/cottage in your underwear and stuff, grabbing at the chub and stuff looking upset and not feeling good about yourself, and techno walking into the room and seeing this. yk him being upset that you feel that way Bc he thinks youre just so pretty 🥺.

IT COULD EITHER GO INTO A SMUT( 😏 where he SHOWS you how much he loves you and how pretty he thinks you are in the mirror) OR FLUFF WITH SOFT WORDS AND CUDDLES or both idk

*slams hand on desk* IVE BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS

I went with both, because I like options. I also based this off a little personal feelings so I hope it works!

My Goddess- Technoblade

Warnings: self conscious reader, swearing, NSFW

   The mirror. Your best, but worst nightmare imaginable. Some days you could look into it and see beauty within your curves. Spend endless minutes hyping yourself up. 'Man I look good' 'I am the fucking shit' 'damn look at that' all little things you tell yourself in pride. Because in those moments, you feel powerful. In those moments you feel like you own the world, that others are just lucky to breathe within your presence.

   However, there are bad days. There are days when looking into the mirror brings shame. Days when all you can do is grab at your stomach, and ponder of what you could have done, or what you will do. Its pressed that everyone is perfect in our own imaginable ways. Yet when you look at others, you cant help but be envious. Others can get away with wearing tight clothing, baggy clothing, any type of clothing. Yet when you try it on all you see is a box, if you wear tight clothing, every roll and muffin top pops out. It can be embarrassing.

   Techno never saw your curves as embarrassing however. He loved them. He loved the plush, soft skin of your tummy or your thighs. Your hips? don't even ask what he thought on hips, as long as they were yours. They were perfect.

   With that said, when he saw you saddened about your form he was slightly hurt. You thought he was beautiful, a hybrid of a monster. But yet you couldn't find the beauty within your rolls? Your plump little form? The very thing that made up you? If he ever found out who planted these seeds of lies in your mind, he would have words.

   If you felt confident enough to take the world by the horns, he let you. He would build you up with sweet words of encouragement. 'Well don't you look amazing...' 'you are looking beautiful as ever'. They were small phrases but they meant a lot to you.

   Techno isn't verbal with his love, or compliments really. He chooses to show it, words are just that. Words. Actions are done, are shown. They are physically put into motion. That's why he prefers it. But he also understands sometimes words are needed. They are needed to ease your nerves and doubtful mind.

   when he catches you glaring at your plump form in the mirror, he cant help but quickly move to your side. Kneeling and kissing up your body. Your arms, your thighs, everything. In the beginning he would let you look away. The idea of someone liking your body type left you uncertain, many times you would ponder if his endless kisses were done as a joke. But each and every time he would reassure you that it was real. That him loving you, loving your body. It wasn't in pity, it was in genuine love.

   Tonight was one of those bad nights. With Techno in the bath, you were left to change for bed. Wait for him to come out, and then cuddle the night away until the sun kissed the horizon.

   But well you changed your eyes fell to the mirror. Your eyes casually roamed your body. You were used to looking at it so nothing stood out of course. But as you shifted, you caught a few stretch marks within the candle light. They looked like streaks of lightning that were dragged across your skin. With a quick glance away, you pulled something over your form. Wanting to cover your body and deal with that mental baggage later.

   Of course the Hybrid that stood tall within the door frame held other ideas about that moment. The one thing that always put you at ease was Techno's size. Before you were in a relationship with him, you feared you wouldn't be able to wear your lovers clothing. Being a bit plumper meant "one size fit all" did not fit all. But luckily, with your roughly 6ish/7ish foot Piglin Hybrid of a lover, all of his clothing was a bit baggy on you. Technoblade was a very Built man, this came from his never ending training and his natural born strength of course. But even with him being built and big, the first time he asked you to sit on his lap had you hesitant. What if he found you too heavy? The idea of him asking you to move off would leave you completely mentally ruined. Of course when you finally sat he didn't utter any words besides praises. His hands running gently over your thighs, with a tight grasp he kept you close. When Techno saw you ease into his lap more often, he took pride in knowing you were comfortable enough to do it on a daily basis. That was when he upped the bar again. The day he asked you to sit on his face was the day you had a heart attack. You were so paranoid you would crush him. Of course he was all bemused smirks well you tried to think of excuses. Yet this man was able to ease your nerves and reassure you until you were comfortable once again. You would never forget how giddy he was to be between your thighs. That was the day he found his favorite spot.

   Before you could ease some bottoms over your underwear, this man had his arms around you. Pushing against your hands. His nose was nuzzled into your neck muttering gently "Please, leave them off for now..." with a brow raised you complied. You let the shorts drop to the floor, assuming you would be coming for them in a brief moment. You could smell the lingering sent from his shampoo. The fresh smell giving you great comfort.

   Techno moved you back to face the mirror, his head moving briefly so he could see you face yourself. With a light stubble scratching against your neck you felt the goosebumps rise. Your eyes met his ruby ones within the mirror. "Do you know, how beautiful you are?..." he asked rhetorically. Dragging out the words that he felt were important. You wanted to say no, but knew he wouldn't want that answer.

   "I think I'm alright..." you said softly. He hummed and pressed a loving kiss to your neck. His hands slowly fell down to the buttons of the shirt you were wearing. Skillfully he undid them without thought. When you had pulled a shirt on you didn't think much, but now saw that it was his you wore. Of course he didn't mind, he never minded.

   With the buttons undone he opened the shirt to expose your naked form. Every curve and roll on sweet display for him "You are beyond 'alright'... alright is basic. You know my goddess is beyond mortal definitions..." you gave a gentle smile at his charm, glancing away from his eyes. He didn't allow this tonight however. Instead he took your jaw and gently redirected it to the mirror. Meeting his gaze again.

   "My love... My goddess, you know your body rivals the gods, yes?..." you slightly shrugged, unsure if this was true. With another loving kiss he continued. "Persephone had rolls... She was just as plump as you my love..." you fallowed his eyes gently. Him comparing you to the beautiful goddess left you feeling better. If someone so divine could have rolls why couldn't you?

   He didn't stop there however. "If you cant see your beauty. Let me show you how beautiful you are..." his tone was pleading. Like a animal begging for spare scraps. You watched his eyes, his finger and thumb having control over your chin. You thought on his words and gave a brief nod to him. Trusting him and whatever he had planned.

   Instead of immediately kissing you all over, he pulled away. Firmly telling you to keep your eyes on the mirror. You felt a bit awkward standing there, your legs shifting closer underneath you. He soon came back however, his crown in hand. You could also see he had a simple gray towel around his waist, showing he was fresh from the bath.

   Your curiosity with the crown lingered, but you watched as he put it on your head. "You are a queen... My Queen... You will always be reminded of your everlasting beauty for as long as you are with me..." for not complementing a lot, tonight he was on a roll. Your eyes ran over the crown. The delicate and bright stones contrasting the shimmering gold well against your skin.

   He walked around to the front of you, leaning down to meet your lips in a loving kiss. His hand found a firm places on your hip, and on the plush skin of your ass cheek. With a gentle, but firm grasp he moved and rolled the skin beneath his hand. Loving how soft you were. With his hands working soft whimpers and moans out of you, his mouth devoured them. Eating every noise you made, cherishing them deep within his heart.

   Leaving your lips swollen he moved down. Kissing your jaw and neck. Planning to leave you a work of art. A show of how much he loves you.

   After your neck it was your chest. Soft plump breasts fitting ever so sweetly within his hands. With firm grasps he had you flushed red whimpering. Your eyes half lidded with the sweet lingering pleasure. Yet you still watched yourself and him, knowing to not disobey him.

   With soft kisses placed to the tops of your breasts and nipples he moved to your stomach. This is where you craved to look away. Wishing to hide yourself in his neck.

   "T..T-Techno..." he hummed acknowledging your words. But he still pressed light kisses down to the hem of your underwear.

  “Keep your eyes on the mirror." He said, pulling them down. Helping you step out of the discarded clothing. You couldn't see his face. Only his backside was facing the mirror, and even then his long wet hair hid most of his toned back.

   His fingers ran through your slit briefly. His rings offered a major temperature difference between your heat and the cold metal. With a little squirm his hands moved and held you in place. Desiring to keep you in place before he moved his head in and started to devour you. Eating you out like it was his last meal on earth.

   With a ever so sinful cry, you gripped at his hair. Begging for your knee's to not give out. With one hand on his head, the other one flew to the crown on your head. Trying to keep it on well you easily hunched over from the overwhelming pleasure. Techno never failed to leave you speechless- or should we say, he never left you quiet. Even if you could see yourself, you didn't think you would be able to focus much. Your eyes were tightly shut well your mouth ran between being in a 'O' and being locked shut.

   He did pull back from your folds to speak. Earning a cry from you. You were getting close and him pulling away was painful. "You can cum. But you have to keep your eyes open" you nodded profusely. Agreeing to anything if it meant feeling his lips back on you. He lingering a moment. Making sure your eyes opened before he leaned back. Taking his time to show your clit attention before going back to his main course.

   With your eyes looking back at you. You were unsure if you were ashamed with how blissed out you looked or happy. The whole scene in itself was erotic. You were incredibly small compared to the giant between your legs. His only drive to please you completely. Your eyes never left the mirror as he ate you out to your climax. Your hips stuttering and bucking, but proving no use to his iron grip. When you came he waisted no time at cleaning it up. He had no shame, that your cum was running down his chin. He was happy when you were pleased. And he knows you are definitely pleased after that climax.

   But he wasn't finished. With your legs weakening he helped you down onto his lap. He let you collect yourself against his chest for a few moments his hand ran over your back.

   "Doin' ok there Princess?..." you nodded slowly. Your chest rising and falling fast well you try and calm yourself. "Think you can do one more?" You nodded again well he pressed a kiss to your forehead, acknowledging your response. Adjusting his crown on your head, he moved so the mirror was beside you two. Showing both of your bodies, with the towel acting as a thin barrier.

   When you both were situated he did remove the towel. With a strong arm he lifted you up and positioned his hardened cock at your entrance, wasting no spare moment to fill you up. Well you did try to hide within his neck, it proved no use. He made sure to turn your head to the mirror.

   With your eyes hitting the mirror you saw how his head was beside yours. Your cheek was pressed to his chest well his was pressed to your forehead. His eyes lingeried your body. Drowning in your blissed out form. He found you utterly perfect.

   Well your bodies were connected, it almost looked like art. With techno's sharp gaze and your blissed out reddened cheeks, the contrast was there but yet they went together in perfect harmony. With the roll of his hips he made sure to keep your eyes on the mirror. Wanting to drag out every cry and moan you could utter. He set his pace at a rhythmic thrust, wanting to not only pleasure you, but himself as well. Well you griped to his sides, he kept his hand on he back of your head gently. Wanting to keep your head facing the mirror. With sweet sinful praises he coached you to a second orgasm, his fallowing close behind. He kissed your head gently, keeping you close to him well he felt himself soften. when his eyes met yours in the mirror he smiled softly. 

“Look at how beautiful you are... Always so, so beautiful Princess...”

[miyagihawk]

“idfc; blackbear (again it’s so easily related to hawk vibes, maybe he’s afraid to open up again for a relationship after moon so he acts like he doesn’t care about the reader but the mfs actually so in love😩✋🏻)” - @hawkwhore

ugh i love this sm and blackbear 😛 ty for the request as always <3

idfc | eli “hawk” moskowitz x reader

warnings: just cursing?

summary: based on idfc by blackbear :) hawk doesn’t like you and you don’t know why

a/n: soooo i kinda strayed from the song LOL sorry but this is kinda more cutesy and less angsty than the song. i actually like it though :)

You don’t know why he seemed to hate you.

Ever since you walked into the dojo for the first time, it was like you couldn’t escape his death stare.

Eventually, you got closer to Miguel, his best friend, so you two started going to the same parties and hanging out more often. But he never seemed to warm up to you.

Miguel said Hawk was just intimidated by you because you always beat him when Sensei calls you both to spar. So you let him win one time, but he seemed to hate you even more after.

Which is why you started Operation Get Hawk To Like Me.

It seemed like a fun challenge to get the broody boy to enjoy your company, but you also sincerely wanted to be friends with him. When he would laugh with Miguel and he smiled like the sun, it made you sad that he was so cold towards you but so warm towards others. You wanted the sun.

You decided that the first part of O.G.H.T.L.M was to subtlety be nicer; you didn’t want to be desperately kind out of nowhere and make him dislike you even more.

“Hey!” you called after the red haired boy who was about to open the door to the dojo.

Hawk turned around slowly at the sound of your voice, and you winced at the annoyed look on his face.

“I- uh, I got this for you,” you held out a blueberry smoothie. When everyone hung out at Golf N Stuff, you saw that he got that flavor and took a mental note.

The boy stood in front of you with a twisted face, not reaching out to take the drink. “Why?” he asked.

You shifted awkwardly, feeling nervous under his stare. Was this too forward? “Um... I accidentally got an extra one?” you made the excuse lamely. “Just take it.”

“Give it to Miguel,” Hawk turned around and sauntered into the dojo, leaving you with a frown. But you wiped off any trace of your disappointed expression and walked into practice too.

-

You tried everything.

You waved at him every time you passed each other in the halls. You got him drinks at parties and you even offered to be the designated driver so that he could get wasted with Miguel.

When you two sparred, you lost on purpose each time. Sensei even pulled you aside to ask if something was wrong. “Hawk is getting better,” was all you said, but he didn’t seem convinced.

The list of things you were trying to do for Operation Get Hawk To Like Me seemed endless and you were totally kissing his ass. His feelings about you weren’t budging, and it seemed like this was just a hopeless mission.

“I just don’t get why he hates me so much. I’m trying so hard,” you groaned.

“Maybe that’s why. You’re trying too hard,” Miguel said across from you with a mouthful of fries.

“Well I don’t know what to do then. I want him to know I’m trying.”

“He knows,” your best friend nodded his head nonchalantly.

Your face scrunched up in confusion, causing Miguel to give you an amused look. “Then why doesn’t he care? I’m starting to think there’s just something wrong with me,” you huffed, crossing your arms.

“You should just talk to him if it’s bothering you so much,” Miguel shrugged.

“I guess I should,” you slumped, feeling intimidated by the thought of confronting Hawk. Was it even worth it? If he didn’t want to be your friend now, then what would change if you talked to him? If he would even agree to talk.

-

Tonight. The final step that would determine if you were going to give up on Hawk.

The truth is, it really hurt your feelings how little he cared about you. And it hurt even more when you went out of your way to get him to even acknowledge you as an acquaintance.

You don’t know why it affected you so badly; maybe you’ve always had a teensy crush on him. And maybe this little plan you formulated was actually motivated by your subconscious desire to really get to know him, even though you passed it off as wanting to simply be his friend.

So tonight, at the party you were all going to, you were going to talk to him. And get the truth on why he was so persistent in shoving you away.

“Woah, slow down Y/N. Miss lightweight,” Miguel eyed you cautiously when you downed another cup of beer.

“I just need some liquid courage to face Hawk,” you licked your lips, already feeling the effect of the alcohol clouding your mind. You started to sway without noticing, making Miguel laugh at you amusingly.

“Well good luck with that. But that’s enough, or you won’t even get any words out,” he took the cup from you and you pouted. Miguel subtly motioned behind you, and you turned around to look.

It was the red haired boy you’ve been avoiding all night; the one who made your palms sweat when you thought about the conversation you were planning to have.

But with the alcohol giving you a rush of confidence, you walked up to him with no anxiety. His eyes widened when he saw you rushing forward, and he almost looked afraid.

“Can I talk to you?” you said solidly, feeling braver than you usually are. Hawk looked at you, confused, but nodded to his friends before following you to go somewhere quieter.

He traced behind you as you opened the door to go outside, where there were less people and the music wasn’t so loud.

“Um... is something wrong?” Hawk stood awkwardly in front of you, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“Of course there’s something wrong,” you replied in a meaner tone than you intended, but you brushed off the guilt.

“Well what is it?” he asked in his usual annoyed tone that he used only when he needed to speak to you.

You felt your cheeks heat up with frustration. “Why don’t you like me?” you blurted out, and the expression on his face told you that he wasn’t prepared for it at all.

“W-What?” Hawk stuttered, his previously composed persona was gone.

“Why don’t you like me?” you repeated, more forcefully. “I am so nice to you. But you just hate me and I have no idea why! And you’re just best buds with everyone else, so I know you aren’t incapable of having friends. Do you know how shitty that feels? Especially when I try so hard to just get you to treat me decently!” your mouth ran on and on and words were coming out without you thinking.

Your blurred vision from your anger cleared after you caught your breath, and you focused on his shocked expression. It was the most expression he’s ever shown you.

“I-I-” Hawk stammered, but you cut him off.

“Look, I’ll leave you alone if you just tell me to. But tell me why, so I can give up. I’m sorry, okay? For whatever I’ve done that makes you not even want to be near me. And I don’t even know why I feel like I need you to like me, I just-”

This time he was the one to interrupt you. “I do like you.”

You blinked in confusion, taken aback by his words.

Hawk licked his lips anxiously, taking a breath in before speaking, “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been a dick. The truth is... I’ve been... um... catching feelings for you. And I guess I was trying to protect myself by pushing you away.”

Your mouth dropped open at his confession. Out of all the responses you were expecting when you were overthinking about the conversation, this one was one you could have never seen coming. But surprisingly, it made your stomach turn and your heartbeat accelerate.

He continued, this time looking into your eyes with his blue ones. “I don’t hate you at all. I just... I just felt like last time I caught feelings for someone I just got hurt. And I was all in, but they weren’t. That’s why I keep myself from getting close to you. I’m sorry Y/N,” Hawk confessed his whole heart, leaving you speechless.

After barely getting a few words out of him everyday, his confession of feelings was overwhelming. But you finally understood him. You knew about his relationship with Moon and how it went down from all the school gossip, but for some reason you never pieced together that it was why his guard was up so high.

“I don’t really know what to say,” you admitted, still feeling woozy from both the alcohol and his speech. You weren’t sure about your feelings and you didn’t want to say something you didn’t mean. Yes, you had feelings for him too, but everything was going so fast.

Hawk gave you a smile that calmed you from your worry. “It’s okay, sorry. It was a lot. But if you still want we can be friends.” He reached out his hand for you to shake and confirm your partnership.

Instead of taking it, you took him by surprise by wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He melted into the hug after a few seconds, and you smiled from behind his view. “Friends,” you pulled away and he beamed at you warmly.

You finally got the sun.

a/n: omg bye this was not like the song at all SORRY there wasn’t that much action it was just fluffy IVE BEEN WATCHING TOO MUCH MIRACULOUS LADYBUG like they r so soft and u can see the influence of it on my writing lmaoo anyways hope u enjoyed!! :)

[karahalloway]

Thanksgiving - Part 1

Fandom: TRR - (Un)Common Attraction universe

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series: Thanksgiving

Synopsis: Harper and Drake fly to Bozeman, MT to spend their first Thanksgiving together with Harper’s family. 

Word count: 6,600 (I have no idea how this happened... I blame H&D...)

Warnings: E (swearing, cringe, smut)

A/N: So... This was supposed to be a one-shot submission for the CFWC Flufftober writing prompts back in October. When I saw the prompts list, I immediately decided to do Day 11 - 'Family | Meet the Parents', and when I did that, I immediately thought of Thanksgiving. So, that's how the idea for this fic was born. But, as usual, things did not go according to plan. I was busy writing other stuff, so I missed the Flufftober submission deadline, then I was not feeling very inspired, and when it finally started coming together, Harper and Drake ended up taking it in a completely different direction (as per usual), so it ended up becoming a two-parter instead of a one-shot. But hey-ho... Such is life...

A couple of notes for your FYI: (i) the American football info referenced in this fic relate mostly to the 2021-22 season (but I have taken some liberties with the facts, as this is a work of fiction); (ii) a lot of the situations and conversations that take place in this piece are based on real-life experiences that have actually happened to me or people close to me (so if anything appears to be unbelievable, it isn't, as life is often stranger than fiction!); (iii) in terms of chronology, this takes place during the as-yet untitled and unwritten Book 3 of the Harper & Drake trilogy, but I have tried to keep it as spoiler-free as possible, so it can be read as a standalone; (iv) I have included a collage showing Harper’s family, so you can get an idea of what they look like in my head. I’ll be doing a proper character profile for them as part of the Supporting Cast series for (Less Than) Noble Intentions, but I haven’t gotten that far yet 😅.

"HARPER!!"

Before I have a chance to determine where the high-pitched shriek of excitement came from, I find myself being scooped off the ground into a bear hug.

"Hey, Brody," I grin as my eldest brother sets me back down.

"Hey, sis," he replies with a smile, tousling my hair like he used to do when we were younger. "You finally made it."

"Yeah, the plane—"

"Oh, honey, I've missed you!" cries Mom, rushing up as well to wrap her arms around me. "It's good to have you home!"

"Yeah," I say, feeling tears well in my eyes as Mom's distinctive scent of rosewater and homemade cookies assails my senses. "I've missed you too, Mom..."

It really is good to be back home...

Mom gives me one more bone-crushing squeeze before pulling back to wipe the moisture from the corner of her own eyes with a sniffle. "And Drake... You came as well!"

"Yes, ma'am," replies Drake with that swoon-worthy smile of his, offering his hand. "Thank you for—"

Mom throws her arms around him, as if he’s a long-lost son, making Drake grunt in surprise at the unexpected intimacy... or sudden lack of oxygen.

"It's lovely to see you again, honey."

"Err... you too, Mrs Gale..."

"Just Leigh, darling," replies Mom, patting him on the back. "Just Leigh."

Brody and I exchange knowing smirks at the sight of Drake's touched, yet slightly uncomfortable expression. Mom is a big hugger, and unless you’re prepared for it, it usually catches people off-guard.

"Okay, Mom," I say with a grin. "You can let him go now."

"Oh, sorry, sweetie," smiles Mom sheepishly as she loosens her hold on Drake. "I'm just so happy to see you both. I was starting to get worried..."

"Yeah, they had a massive snowstorm blow into Denver just as we were getting ready to take off," I explain. "So, they had to hold us back to respray the wings with anti-freeze or whatever it's called... I think we were the last plane out before they shut the airport."

"That storm's supposed to hit us tomorrow or the day after," nods Brody. "Might actually get snowed in."

"That a good thing?" asks Drake sceptically.

"The best!" my brother affirms. "You slum out in front of the open fire in your PJs and socks, stuffing leftover turkey down your throat while watching football... It's great!"

Drake fixes me with an accusatory look. "You didn't tell me your family watched football."

I shrug. "I'm not that into it personally but—"

"Hold up!" cries Brody. "You watch football? As in American football?"

"Sure do," confirms Drake.

"Yeah," I grumble. "He's been up at all hours since the season started watching his team play."

"Who's your team?" asks Brody excitedly. A bigger football fan, there is not.

"Cowboys."

Brody stops dead in his tracks. "Shit... No way..."

"That... a problem?" asks Drake uncertainty.

"We're a Broncos household," I tell him.

Drake pales. "Oh, shit..."

Mom laughs good-naturedly. "Oh, it's not all doom and gloom, surely!

"The Broncos are facing off against the Cowboys tomorrow," Drake informs us.

"You mean the Broncos are riding roughshod over the Cowboys tomorrow!" declares Brody, punching Drake in the arm.

Drake startles slightly at the impact (Brody is a big guy, after all), but then the corner of his mouth twitches up in a wry smile. "I think you're getting your teams mixed up there, buddy. The Cowboys ride rough for a living! We've a six game win-streak, while you've lost four out of eight. Not great odds for you, if you ask me..."

"Hah!" guffaws Brody. "I wouldn't get cocky, if I was you, Texas! You went into overtime against the Pats!"

"So? We won that game."

"In overtime!" my brother expounds. "When they didn't even have Brady! That's embarrassing, man!"

"Trust me, we'll have you beat by the third quarter."

"Wanna bet on that?"

"Sure," grins Drake. "Hundred bucks?"

"I'm feeling lucky tonight, so let's make it two!"

"Your loss," shrugs Drake, grasping hands with Brody to seal the deal.

"There's gonna be death threats flying tomorrow, aren't there?" I whisper to Mom as we exit the terminal.

"And beer cans," nods Mom, watching Drake and Brody continue to rib each other as we cross the road towards the parking lot. "Let's just hope all the furniture stays in one piece this time..."

"Oh, yeah," I cringe, remembering Brody's epic meltdown during the 2012 season when the Broncos lost big to the Seahawks in their first Super Bowl since 1998. "That year was bad, wasn't it?"

"Unbelievably," agrees Mom as we follow the boys towards Brody's truck. "But he did have probably a bit too much to drink during the pre-game."

"Better hide the Busch Lite then," I quip with a smirk as we arrive where the much used-and-abused F150 is parked.

"What you tryin' to do with my beer?" queries Brody, fishing his keys out of his pocket.

"Limit your intake," I tell him. "You're gettin' a beer gut, bro." I give his belly a well-aimed slap.

"That ain't from the beer," he huffs, opening the tailgate to load our suitcases in. "That's from sitting at a desk for eight to ten hours a day."

"And drinking too much beer when you get home," I tease, handing him my small roll-y case as well. "You need to take up running or something."

He glances wearily at Drake as he packs the bags in. "She like this with you too?"

"All the effin' time. Zero filter on this one."

"Hey!" I protest, smacking him on the chest. "You're supposed to be on my side, Walker!"

"Never said I wasn't," he drawls, snaking his arm around my waist to pull me to him. "But your tact could do with some work, Gale."

"Eugh..." I groan with a roll of my eyes. "You sound like Bertrand."

Mom's peering at us quizzically. "You two... refer to each other by your surnames? Is that a royal court thing?"

"No. It's a Drake thing." I scrunch my face up at him. "That kinda became our thing."

Drake rolls his eyes. But I can see the warmth in those mocha depths as he gives my waist a squeeze.

"But, it's awfully formal, isn't it?" asks Mom sceptically. "Like you're acquaintances or partners on the force... Wouldn't you want to switch to something more endearing like 'honey', or 'darling' or even 'baby'?

I suppress a snort of amusement with some difficulty. If only Mom knew the names we called each other in private...

"What d'you think, honey?" I ask, glancing up at Drake conspiratorially. "Should we switch things up a bit?"

His eyes bore intently into mine. "No harm giving it a try... darling."

My lips part with a surprised gasp as the roll of the r across his tongue sends an unexpected shiver down my spine.

I see his mouth curve into a lupine grin.

Crap...

"Are you three gonna stand out here in the parking lot the whole night?" my brother calls, leaning out the driver's side window.

"You ride up front with Brody," instructs Mom, yanking the back door of the cab open. "I want to sit with Harper."

"Yes, ma'am," nods Drake with another scorching look in my direction as he opens the passenger door.

I let out a low breath as I climb in next to Mom.

It’s probably a good thing that we won’t be sitting together on the drive to Mom and Dad's house... otherwise we'll be spending the entire duration of the ten-minute journey eye-fucking each other while failing to keep our hands to ourselves.

I shake my head as I buckle up.

Should've just ignored Mom's uncalled for butting-in... especially when we’re both already on edge after having had to behave for 14+ hours on the plane.

"Oh, honey," croons Mom, grabbing my hand in hers. "I'm so happy you managed to make it home for Thanksgiving! Even if it's only for a few days."

"I wish it could be longer," I reply, giving her hand a squeeze. "But we need to be back in Cordonia for Savannah and Bertrand's wedding and Drake promised his mom and aunt that we'd stop in at the ranch on the way home..."

"I know, sweetie," smiles Mom. "You're an in-demand lady now. And... what about your own plans?" She glances meaningfully down at my left hand. "Have you set a date yet?"

"Not yet," I admit. "Been too caught up planning Savannah's. But we were thinking maybe late spring or early summer."

"Oh, that will be nice!" she approves. "Your dad and I got married in September when the leaves were turning, but I always liked the idea of a spring wedding..."

While Mom prattles on about her vicarious recommendations for colour schemes, flowers arrangements and dress options, I find myself staring out at the window, watching the streetlamps whizz by as Brody navigates away from the airport.

Even though it’s dark, I let my gaze flick over the familiar shadows of the buildings lining the side of the road, breathing in the noticeably drier Montana air that always holds a faint aftertaste of grass and dirt, mixed with the well-worn leather and plastic of Brody's truck...

...and I realise that something feels different this time around.

What, I can’t put my finger on exactly, but there seems to be a subtle shift, a slight misalignment that I never felt before.

But before I can dive deeper into that thought, we're pulling up onto Mom and Dad's drive.

Brody turns the engine off and we all pile out, the guys going 'round the back to grab the bags while Mom loops her arm through mine to lead me up to the blue-grey weatherboarded house.

As we reach the front porch that Mom had decorated with an entire Walmart's-worth of Thanksgiving paraphernalia, the door is thrown open.

"There you are!" exclaims Dad. "We were starting to wonder whether Brody drove himself into ditch again."

"Jesus, Dad!" cries Brody in exasperation from behind me. "That happened one time! When are you gonna let that go?"

"Never," declares Justin with a shit-eating grin, appearing behind Dad. "It's too fuckin' fun— Ow!"

"Language," admonishes Dad with a glare. "Now make yourself useful and take those bags off Drake."

"Thank you, sir, but I'm—"

Before Drake can protest further, Justin's snatched the handles of the two suitcases and was hefting them inside.

"It's no use, man," he whispers conspiratorially. "Orders are orders."

"Hi, Dad," I say, leaning into him for a hug. "You smell like onions."

"That's because I've been making spaghetti."

"With meatballs?" I ask excitedly as my brothers shuffle past to take our bags upstairs.

"Extra big ones."

"Hmm... Yum!" I grin, feeling myself start to salivate in anticipation. "Can't wait!"

"Figured you'd be hungry after flying halfway around the world."

"Even if I wasn't, I'd still probably eat two platefuls," I say, kicking my boots off and dropping my bag on the bench in the foyer. "Your spaghetti is the best."

"What about you, Drake?" asks Dad, extending his hand in greeting. "You hungry?"

"Not gonna say 'no' to a homecooked meal after three rounds of airplane grub," he replies, giving Dad a firm shake.

"Where's Tyler?" I ask, noting the suspicious absence of my third brother.

"Getting Nana," informs Dad. "Though... they should've been back by now as well."

"I'm sure they'll be here any minute," says Mom, hanging her coat up. "Nana always eats like a bird anyway, so we can start without them. Can't have these two starve to death on the doorstep..."

Drake straightens up from arranging his boots next to mine. "We're fine if you'd prefer to—"

"Go start plating up," declares Mom, pushing him towards the kitchen.

I follow along behind them, smirking at Drake's slightly sceptical expression.

Arriving in the kitchen, I see that Dad has been hard at work indeed. The heavy oak dining table that’s seen better days has been loaded up with enough food to feed an army. In addition to the pasta and meatballs, there is also steaming slices of cheesy garlic bread, a big bowl of tomato, basil and mozzarella salad, and a veritable mountain of grated cheddar.

"Wow, Dad!" I exclaim. "You went all out!"

"Of course," he murmurs, pulling me in to drop a kiss into my hair. "It's good to have you home, Harper."

"Yeah..." I reply, giving him another hug, even as I feel that strange sensation well up inside me again.

"Now, sit," commands Mom, plopping Drake down onto a chair. "And eat! Before it all goes cold."

"You don't have to tell me twice!" declares Justin, flying down the stairs to throw himself into a chair. Grabbing his plate, he reaches eagerly for the pasta ladle.

Mom smacks his hand, sending the plate clattering back onto the table. "Wait your turn, J. Guests first. Drake?"

"Honestly, it's—"

Mom thrusts Drake's plate at him uncompromisingly. "After you, honey."

He takes it warily. "Okay..."

"Take as much as you want," prompts Mom encouragingly as she settles into her seat as well.

"Thank you," he nods, before proceeding to put a bit of everything on his plate.

"Is that all you're having?" asks Mom incredulously. "Aren't you hungry?"

"I am."

"Then why have you taken so little?" she deplores, reaching for the bowl of meatballs. "Here. Have some more."

"Thank you, but—"

She dumps three more meatballs onto his plate before throwing on another slice of garlic bread for good measure.

Drake stares at the mound of food with wide eyes.

"Mom..." I chide with a chuckle as she's in the process of fishing another ladleful of pasta out. "If he wants more, he can have more later."

"I just don't want him going hungry. You've had such a long journey, after all..."

"There's no danger of that!" I assure her. "Dad made enough for seconds and thirds!"

"And Nana's bringing a cheesecake, remember?" adds Brody, sitting down as well.

Mom drops the ladle back in the bowl with a resigned sigh. "I can whip up something else if—"

"No, this is great!" says Drake quickly.

"Are you sure, honey?" asks Mom concernedly. "If you don't like it then—"

"Mom!" groans Brody exasperatedly. "The pasta's fine!"

"Just let him eat, Leigh," huffs Dad. "He's a grown man. He doesn't need babying."

"I'm not babying," she protests. Looking at Drake, she adds, "But, if you change your mind—"

"Mom!" I exclaim.

Mom slumps back into her chair dejectedly.

"Dig in, son," nods Dad. "Don't wait on ceremony for the rest of us."

"Thank you, sir," acknowledges Drake, picking his fork and knife up. "This looks really good... And thank you for—"

"Just eat!" shouts Justin.

Drake spears a forkful of pasta and shoves it in his mouth.

There is a collective sigh of relief from around the table before everyone proceeds with passing the food around and loading up their plates.

"Sorry..." I whisper to Drake, spooning some salad onto my plate with a roll of my eyes in the direction of my family.

He flashes me a rakish smirk. "You can make it up to me later."

I punt his foot under the table.

The door bangs open to the accompaniment of a frustrated groan.

"No, Nana... I've got it. You just—"

"But you're gonna smush it!"

"No, I'm not! It's completely level, see?"

"Don't shake it like that!"

Tyler prays for deliverance as he tromps into the kitchen to drop Nana's precious cheesecake on the centre island. "You could've waited..."

"We did," declares Dad. "What took you so long?"

Tyler crosses his arms. "Yeah, Nana. What took you so long?"

"Had to make the cheesecake."

Mom's eyebrows shoot skywards. "But I thought you made it this morning!"

"I was planning on making it this morning," corrects Nana, shuffling into the kitchen. "But after we hung up, Darlene showed up, wanting to borrow some eggs because her nephews were over for Thanksgiving and those two boys eat like every meal was their last, and she needed something to whip up breakfast for them, and as you know, she never stays for less than an hour, as she feel's it's her God-given mission to spread the neighbourhood's happenings to every man and his dog, so by the time she—"

Tyler mines a yapping mouth with his hand behind Nana with a roll of his eyes, causing me to snort in amusement.

Nana abruptly halts her impedingly lengthy monologue as she snaps her bespectacled gaze onto me. "Oh, Harper! My darling! You're finally here!"

"Hi, Nana," I greet, pushing my chair back to give her a hug.

"Oh, I've missed you!" she croons, swaying me side-to-side like a marionette before snapping suddenly to attention. "And you've bought your beau, I see!"

Drake quickly dabs his mouth with a napkin before standing to offer his hand. "Evening, ma'am. It's—"

Nana throws her arms around his waist, causing Drake to nearly trip over his chair as he takes an involuntary step back.

"I've heard so much about you!" Nana enthuses into Drake's sternum. "Feels like we practically know each other already!" She pulls away to eye him up critically. "But...there is something we must get out of the way."

Drake glances down slightly nervously. "Erm... Sure?"

"Chocolate chip or cinnamon."

"What?"

It’s clear that this isn’t the question he was expecting.

"Do you prefer chocolate chip or cinnamon?"

Drake quirks an uncertain brow. "Both are good?"

"Ha!" exclaims Nana, smacking him on the chest, causing Drake to startle in surprise. "You picked a keeper, Harper!"

"I know," I smile, watching Drake sink back into his chair with a confused expression, no doubt wondering whether he unsuspectingly managed to pass some kind of covert grandmotherly test just now.

I give his knee a reassuring pat under the table.

The rest of the dinner proceeds as chaotically as can be expected, with at least three different conversations taking place simultaneously at any given time, occasionally interspaced by calls for various serving dishes to be passed back and forth so people could have seconds (and even thirds).

But as the food starts to settle in my stomach, my attention begins to waver, and I find it harder and harder to keep track of who is saying what.

"Whoa, there!"

"Huh?" I blink dazedly as I feel myself get jerked backwards.

"You almost face-planted in your plate, Harp," Tyler informs me dryly, pulling me back from the tabletop.

"Did...did I...?" I ask around a massive yawn.

"Oh, honey..." croons Mom sympathetically. "You must be exhausted! Get upstairs and to bed, so you're nice and fresh for the morning. You too, Drake."

"I'm happy to stay and help wash up..."

"No need, son," declares Dad. "That's what these three—" he inclines his head towards my brothers, "—and the dishwasher are for. And there'll be plenty enough to help out with tomorrow."

"Yes, sir," Drake acknowledges with a nod. "Thank you for dinner. I can honestly say that I've never eaten so much in my life."

"Just wait till tomorrow!" Justin assures him. "You'll be stuffed fuller than the poor turkey!"

"Don't doubt it," Drake murmurs with a wry grin, pushing his chair back. "G'night everyone."

"Yeah..." I mumble tiredly, clambering to my feet as well. "See you in the morning."

Various replies chime around the table.

"Goodnight!"

"Sleep tight!"

"Don't make too much noise, now!"

"Don't worry... I won't," Drake assures everyone. "It's her that'll rattle the shingles..." He jabs an accusatory thumb in my direction.

Shocked silence descends around the table and my mouth drops open in disbelief.

Why on Earth would he do that?! In front of my family...!

"…Never heard anyone snore so loud."

You could hear a pin drop before my brothers erupt into rancorous laughter at Drake's clarification. Even my dad's trying not to grin. Mom is the only one looking at me sympathetically, but she too has a smile on her face.

"Ha!" guffaws Nana, slapping the table. "Your boy's got spunk, Harper!"

I turn away from the table, cheeks flaming.

Sounds of gleeful jeering rise up behind me.

"Ooh! Someone's sleeping in the doghouse tonight!"

"At least it'll be quiet!"

"Might go and join him! Her room's next to mine!"

I take the stairs two at a time.

Maybe I should make him sleep on the couch... or in the yard. He deserves to freeze his ass off after that!

"Hey... hey," chuckles Drake, reaching the top of the stairs at the same time as me. "Hold up, girl... Y'know I was just teasin'."

I ignore him as I round the corner at the top of the landing.

He grabs my wrist...

...and in the next instance, I find myself flush against his chest.

Scraping away the hair that had spun into my face as a result of the sudden about-face, I glare up at him. "Let me go."

His hands clamp onto my ass. "Never."

"Not in the mood, Walker."

"We can change that very quickly."

I narrow my eyes. "Last warning."

"Or what?" he provokes, mocha eyes boring into mine. "You'll jerk a knot in my tail?"

Despite the annoyance sizzling inside me, I feel my brow jump up in startled confusion. "Huh?"

"Make me pray for Jesus...?"

I frown up at him, desperately trying to catch the drift of the (very open to interpretation!) southernisms he’s dropping on me.

He tightens his hold on the softness of my backside to yank me meaningfully against him, "Or would you rather knock me into Sunday?"

I continue staring at him, my mind whirling.

Are these euphemisms for a beating... Or sex? ...Or both!

"Err..."

He leers down at me. "I'd prefer you to shuck my corn, personally—"

Now that, I understand! "Dream on, cowboy!"

"—but I suppose you could cream it first, if that'll sweeten your honey..."

"Stop it!" I cry, smacking him on the chest, even as I feel my face crack into a grin.

"Why?" he smiles, not even flinching. "It's making you laugh."

"Because I'm still pissed off at you!" I declare, thumping him again. But my face stays stubbornly stuck in a smirk.

"Hmm..." he drawls, running his palms over my backside. "Your knickers sure do feel like they're in a wad. How 'bout I help you out of them...?"

I grit my teeth in an effort to stop myself from bursting into giggles — and arching into him. "How 'bout you apologise first?"

"I've a better idea."

"Drake!" I gasp as he pushes me forcefully up against the wall. "My family is downstairs!"

"Best keep it down, then," he suggests, nipping my earlobe as he pops the button of my jeans and yanks the fly down. "Shouldn't you... darlin'?"

A shiver runs down my spine as he rolls the r with deliberate slowness across his tongue.

But like hell am I going to give him the satisfaction of letting him know just how desperately I suddenly need him.

I plant my palms on his chest to shove him away. "No. I'm not going to—"

"Your choice," he shrugs.

I suck in a surprised breath as he snakes his fingers underneath the lace of my panties to dive between my shamefully wet folds.

I keep my eyes open with supreme effort to fix him with a warning look as he glides down my clit. "Don't think you're digging yourself out of this by distracting me, Walker."

"Just the opposite, baby," he whispers, pushing his other hand underneath my sweater. "I'm planning on digging myself a helluva lot deeper."

He underscores the last word by shoving his fingers into my tight and needy centre.

Despite my best intentions, my head falls back against the wall with a moan. "Drake..."

"No wonder you were pitchin' a fit..." he drawls, trailing his tongue up my neck. "You're wound tighter than barbs 'round a wire."

A breathless scoff escapes me as he begins sliding slowly in and out.

"What's... what's with all...the idiots?"

I frown. No... that doesn’t sound right...

“Idiomts? Idio—" I grab onto his shirt. God, he’s way too good at that!

"Idioms?" he supplies, tugging on my earlobe with his teeth while his other hand brushed over the swell of my breast.

"Mmm...! Yes...!" I pant as he switches to swirling his fingers inside me.

"'Cause you get hotter'n a Texas barbecue when I put on all that y'all'n southern drawlin'," he whispers. "An' it's keepin' you distracted..."

I slap him on the chest even as my eyes flutter shut with a low moan.

"You two alright up there?"

My entire body goes rigid as Mom's voice floats up the stairwell.

"Just fine, Mrs Ga— Leigh," Drake assures her while keeping his eyes locked on me and his fingers circling lazily.

"You managed to kiss and make up?"

"Y-yes!" I call, desperately hoping she doesn't notice how hoarse and shaky my voice sounds all of a sudden. "We... we're all good!"

I clamp my hands over my mouth to stop a cry escaping me as Drake suddenly pulls his fingers out before ramming them back in again.

I glare daggers at him, and he responds by doing it again.

The bastard...

"Oh, good!" Mom enthuses. "Before you went to bed, I just wanted to check whether..."

Mom's voice fades to background noise as Drake's thumb finds my nipple underneath my bra and begins to work it in tandem with his other thumb on my swollen bud.

I use what little coherence is left in my brain to try and squirm out of his reach, because as close as I am, I'll never be able to look my family in the eye if he sends me crashing noisy over the edge within everyone's earshot.

But Drake leans his weight into me, pinning me against the wall, making escape impossible.

"Don't even think about it," he growls into my ear, upping the pace mercilessly.

A pitiful mew escapes me. "Dra—"

He snaps his hand over my mouth. "Like Harper said, we're all good, ma'am. Thank y—"

A low hiss escapes him as I sink my teeth into his palm in retaliation.

"Okay," acknowledges Mom. "Let me know if you need anything."

"We...will," he grinds out, while giving me a look that makes it clear just how much trouble I’m now in.

I run my tongue over the spot I bit with a defiant look, before nipping it again.

"You wanna play rough, huh?" he grits, eyes flashing, as Mom's footsteps recede back towards the kitchen.

I grab him through his jeans, a feeling of immense satisfaction rising up within me as I see his face tighten.

Two can play this game...

"That's a yes..." he surmises, sliding an additional finger in, causing my grip to tighten around him, making us both groan.

Dropping his hand from my face, he crashes his mouth against mine with such intensity that I'm sure they will be bruised come the morning.

Grabbing onto his hair, I meet his onslaught in kind, thrusting my tongue into his mouth as I feel my head start to spin as he—

"Hell, no! I was on potato peeling duty last year! It's your turn, T!"

"Nope! Nana's already roped me into helping her with breakfast."

My eyes snap open in panic at the sound of my brothers' argument drawing closer.

Drake's espresso gaze meets mine for a brief moment... before he is marching us to my bedroom with me slung over his shoulder.

"Hey!" I protest as he kicks the door shut behind us. "Put me down!"

"Yes, ma'am."

He drops me down onto the bed, the mattress springs squeaking in protest.

Shaking the hair out of my face, I push myself irately up. "You really need to—"

Whatever I was going to say becomes inconsequential as he yanks my jeans and panties down and shoves his tongue inside me.

"Drake!" I gasp, eyes rolling back into my head at his forceful invasion.

"Come for me, baby," he whispers against me. "You were so fuckin' close..."

I jolt as he draws the roughness of his thumb over my swollen bud. "No... I... I can't..."

"You...need...to," he counters, tracing heart-stopping circles around my clit as his tongue darts in and out between each word. "Desperately."

I arch off the bed with a groan, fisting my fingers into his hair as I try to fight the inevitable side-effects of his ministrations. "But... but they'll hear..."

"Do it quietly."

I scoff around a breathy moan. "You... you know I can't."

Arguably the only downside of having sex with Drake — it’s impossible to come at anything less than max volume.

And normally he loves it when I scream the house down. But I flat out refuse to do it at my parents' place, with all three of my brothers and Nana here as well, especially when we’ll all have to sit down at the same table together for Thanksgiving tomorrow. I'd rather flay myself alive than subject myself to that roasting.

"Hmm... You're right..." he concedes, running his tongue contemplatively around my tight entrance. "It's probably askin' too much..."

"Drake!" I gasp in shocked disbelief as he withdraws from me... again! "You can't—"

"Chillax, Gale," he chuckles, planting a knee on the mattress and bending over me. "I'm not leavin' you high and dry... Or high and drenched, in your case."

"Then, what are y—?"

I suddenly find myself in his lap, straddling him.

"We'll need to go slow," he advises, tugging my underwear and pants fully off me.

"But—"

He slants me a dry look as he reaches for my jumper. "Your bed is creakier than a tin man in a rocking chair."

Eugh... He does have a point.

This bed's lived through several incarnations as a pillow-fort, a trampoline, a slumber-party HQ, not to mention the fact that I've been sleeping in it since I turned 12. So, it’s definitely making its age known.

"Fine," I huff as he pulls the jumper over my head. "But, you owe me one, Walker."

"Oh, don't worry," he smirks, making quick work of my t-shirt and bra strap. "I'm planning on paying up in full... and then some when we get to Texas."

"But, won't your aunt be there?" I ask, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.

"We have over two hundred acres of fields to knock boots in," he replies, leaning back to undo his belt. "Not to mention the stables and the barns and the—"

"Okay, cowboy," I grin, tugging the shirt off him. "You can roll me in the hay if that'll sizzle your bacon."

"It'll damn sure sizzle yours too, girl," he assures me, lifting his hips to push his jeans and boxers down. "Now, come 'ere."

His lips find mine in a demanding kiss as he pulls me eagerly to him. I tangle my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, moaning into his mouth as he slides himself slowly into me.

"Fuck, you're tight," he grits, grabbing my hips.

"And who's fault is that?" I counter, nipping his bottom lip accusatorily.

"Yours," he declares, espresso eyes meeting mine unflinchingly as he draws me slowly against him. "You shoulda let me renew our mile high club membership."

A derisive snort tumbles out of me. "There is nothing sexy about doing it in a cramped airplane bathroom."

"That's not what you said before," he reminds me, bending his head to swirls his tongue around my nipple at the same lazy place that he's set with our bodies.

I tighten my hold on his hair as I arch into his mouth. "A private jet's... different."

"I don't see how..." he responds, dropping a hand between us to thumb my clit as well.

My head falls back with a moan. "For a start... there aren't... there aren't... Oh, God...!"

"You were sayin'...?" he drawls, sucking my breast into his mouth again to graze my hardened nipple with his teeth.

Honestly...? I can’t remember.

All I care about is riding Drake hell for leather until I found the release I've been craving since he started teasing me in the car on the way to the airport back in Cordonia.

But, just as the tension starts building again as I rock my hips with increasing vigour against him, I feel him grind me to a maddening halt.

"Drake..." I whine, my entire body trembling with desperate need. I thrust against him frantically, but he keeps me still.

"It's making too much noise," he informs me, resuming the slow glide from before.

A frustrated sound — halfway between a moan and a sob — escapes me.

When I’m this turned on, nothing less than a savage, animalistic screw will do...

"Do you trust me?"

I blink my eyes open to find Drake gazing at me with that impenetrable look of his.

"Why?" I frown.

"Do you trust me?" he repeats, eyes not leaving mine.

I nod shakily.

"Good. Then do exactly as I say."

"Okay..."

At this point I'm willing to jump off a building on his word if it means I can finally get off! There is only so much edging a girl could take before she snaps...

"Wrap your legs around me."

Pushing myself up onto my trembling knees, I throw one leg and then the other around his waist, locking my ankles together behind him.

"Good," he approves, sliding his hands onto the softness of my backside. "Now. Look at me."

"I am..."

"The whole time."

My eyes widen. "The whole—?"

"Yes," he affirms as he starts to push and pull me gently against him, like waves lapping at the shore.

"But—"

"Do you trust me?

"Yes, but—"

"Then trust me."

I search his unwavering gaze and find only steadfastness and reassurance. And as I continue to look into those dark, cinnamon-flecked eyes while we move almost imperceptibly against each other, I feel my breathing start to settle and the needy trembling ease, to be replaced by a deep-seated warmth that spreads slowly from the centre of my chest out towards the tips of my fingers and toes.

Neither of us speak and we barely blink as we hold the other's gaze, staring into each other's eyes more deeply and for longer than we ever have before, our soft breaths mingling as time slows to a crawl and the world around us fades away to nothingness as we concentrate only on each other.

I notice details that I never really noticed before... Like the soft lines at the corners of his eyes, the way some of his lashes criss-crossed each other, and the fact that his eyebrows are not quite symmetrical.

But, the longer I keep my gaze steady, the more I feel my heart swell with feeling... not just love (even though there’s so much love coursing through me right now that I’m sure I’m going to drown in it!), but with faith, with serenity, and with devotion, and an all-encompassing feeling of wholeness that threatened to bring tears to my eyes.

Drake reaches up wordless to cup my face in his hands, his soulful eyes mirroring the same emotions that are overflowing within me. I place my palm on his slightly scratchy cheek, feeling my vision become blurred as we continue to sway together, our noses and foreheads touching.

And as we pursue our delicate rhythm, I feel a new sensation start to build deep within me. My heart starts beating harder, each thump reverberating through my veins, and my breathing gets more strained as I feel my chest start to constrict.

"I love you, Harper," breathes Drake, eyes almost black with passion.

I clutch him as the rising swell threatens to take my breath away completely. "Drake...!"

"Look at me, mon coeur," he prompts, face tight as I feel his fingers dig into my hair.

I lift my eyes back to his with concerted effort, my breath coming in strangled pants as the heart-stopping wave rises higher and higher, until suddenly, it crests and my breathing stops completely.

Time freezes for a second — or an eon? — before the full tidal force of the built-up tension crashes over every inch of me like a tsunami, threatening to wipe me out of existence completely.

Stars burst in front of my eyes as Drake shoves my face against his shoulder to muffle the deep-throated exultation of release that is wrung from my very soul, his head dropping back with a jagged groan.

We shudder against each other for several long moments, breathing hard as we cling together like survivors after a flood.

"Drake..." I rasp through shaky lips when I find my voice again. “That was..." But words fail me as I am forced to simply shake my head in wonder.

"Pretty intense, huh?" he murmurs, brushing the hair gently out of my face.

"Un-fucking-believably..." I confirm as another surge ripples over me.

Drake's chest rumbles with a low chuckle. "You gonna let me go slow more often?"

"I'm not sure I can survive another one of those..."

He pats my backside. "We'll build up your stamina."

I lift my arm to smack him, but my palm just slides down his arm like a wayward sled off a cliff.

He laughs softly. "C'mon. Let's get you to bed before you hurt yourself..."

Adjusting his hold on me, he pushes himself up from the bed before turning around and gently laying me down again.

I briefly contemplate the fact that I probably should brush my teeth, and definitely have a shower, but as my body sinks into the mattress and Drake pulls the covers over me, I find my eyes fluttering shut and before I know it, I'm out like a light.

Thanksgiving contiunes in Part 2!

Picture credits

Autumn - Kiss - Harper - Turkey - Football - Drake

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[ofpineapplesanddawns]

3 : “Please, don’t talk about yourself like that.” and 9 : “I don’t really care anymore.” for the illogical husbands from the angsty list ?? ive been missing them quite lately :(

I really need to write for these two again, but I never have ideas, which is rather sad.

Warning: self-loathing

On with the fic!

--

Even after so long, Bill still had moments where the world seemed to crush him.

Hardy did his best to be there for him in those moments, which luckily haven't been as often as they had been in the early days of their relationship, but sometimes it was difficult. Bill would close in on himself and be too quiet, too reserved, it was not good when he was like this.

Sometimes he sleepwalked in response, and that's what Hardy knew it was really bad.

He took his husband aside after one of those nights and sat him down. "We need to talk."

"When someone says that, it's often a breakup, Alec." Bill replied.

"Tch, you know that's not what this is." He wanted to sock him in the arm for being an ass, but he knew how Bill could be when like this. "Talk to me."

"About what?"

"About what has you this upset, this... I don't know, locked up! You've been a walking shell for days now, I even got a call from your office the other day that you hadn't left it until it was basically time to close, you didn't even take any clients in!"

Bill looked at him, hazel eyes dull, then he looked away. "There's nothing to talk about."

"There is, and don't you fucking tell me there isn't."

The doctor ran a hand down his face, then through his hair. "I don't want to talk about it."

"You're not doing that." Hardy snapped. "You're not getting out of this by ignoring it. Talk to me!"

"I'm..." Bill gritted his teeth, then glared at the floor. "I don't really care anymore."

Hardy frowned. "Care about what?"

"About... work! Alright? Is that what you want to hear?" Bill hissed. "I'm in a fucking rut, Alec! I don't want to do this anymore, I'm tired of it, and just sitting and thinking about my life's fucking work makes me realize how much of it had actually did damage to my life!"

He got up from the couch and started to pace. "I don't know what happened, I just... I got lost in my thoughts, thinking about all of the work I've done over the years, from the start of my studies to now! How I had good intentions, but then I got so caught up in things associated with it, with my a-affair! What happened with my wife, with my mistress!

The people who got caught up in it all and got hurt! And for what? Does all this work even do anything for anyone? Does anyone actually care about sex like that? I don't know! Do I!? It's become mechanical, and even tainted, thinking about my own 'research', if you even want to call it that!"

He looked like he wanted to punch a wall, to throw something across the room. "I don't know, Alec, I've been thinking too much and realized that this is all so fucking pointless! I fucked up so bad and I don't even know what's so good about it! Was my research worth all the shit I did?"

Hardy tried not to let the words sting, he wondered if Bill even realized that he unconsciously implied that, well, maybe their marriage wasn't a good thing to come from everything.

Instead, he swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke. "Please, don’t talk about yourself like that."

"Like what? Like I'm a fuckup pervert?"

"Well... you made mistakes, we both have, too many, really. But Bill, you have to understand that you did fuck up, but you did good things too. Hell, even now you're trying to fix your mistakes. You're on better terms with your ex and your kids than you were when we first met, and even Virginia is friendly with you still."

He let out a sigh. "And if you hadn't done your research, hadn't done the stupid shit you did, you wouldn't... have come to Broadchurch."

Bill stopped, looking down at Hardy, before he seemed to register the words the other man said. He looked distraught, like he realized his mistake. "I... shit, Alec, I didn't mean..."

He sat back down, burying his face into his hands. "I really am a fuckup. You are a good thing to come from my mistakes, I didn't... I didn't meant to imply that you weren't."

"I know, but you're an idiot for saying something like that. Bill, you've done good things and bad, your research is some of the best in the world, even if there is a black stain on it. Don't beat yourself up over it, keep trying to be the better man about this, better than your past self, who was, frankly, a moron."

"You're being too nice to me."

"Someone has to. Personally, I want to slap you across the back of the head, but you seem to realize your mistake so... you're forgiven. Just... talk to me next time you're feeling like this, don't wallow so much in it."

Bill nodded, leaning back against the couch. "I know, I know. I just didn't want to bother you with it."

"I'm your husband, Bill, I'm here to help you when you need it, just like you do for me." Hardy replied, and saw the barest hint of a smile on the man's lips.

[shoutaaizawas]

↳ touya todoroki x reader → ❝safe in your arms❞

summary: your bleeding shivering and scared you stumble to the last place you thought you’d go for safety inspired by @one-lonely-whumperfly post word count: 1.9k+ tags/warnings: injury mention, blood mention, mention of being drugged, angst, fluff, light enemies to lovers a/n: ive been super unmotivated to write but this was a lot of fun so shoutout to this prompt. also it’s super cold here. hope everyone is doing well.

Dabi was enjoying a quiet night at his apartment. It wasn’t a nice place and it wasn’t in a nice neighborhood but it was the place he called home. Being around the league could be too much at times so it was nice to get away and have time alone.

He was laying across his dingy couch with a plastic cup of cheap whiskey in hand as he watched whatever was on TV when he heard banging at his door.

Dabi let out a huff as he stood up, if Toga was here to bother him again he was going to have to move and hide his new address. Opening up his front door ready to scold Toga the words disappeared from his mouth at the sight in front of him.

There you stood, slouched against the wall. Blood smeared across your face, a foggy look in your eyes, and fear and exhaustion rolling off you in waves.

There was a lot to wonder in such a small amount of time. What happened? Why did you come here? How did you even know where he lived? Granted he didn’t have time to consider these things as you were currently falling to the ground.

Dabi reached out to grab you, his arms wrapping around your waist just in time. He pulled you up letting you rest your weight on him so that you could stand.

“I didn’t take you as the type to show up at my place and fall for me.” He teased. Was it the right time for a joke, no, but he was a villain he wasn’t supposed to care about those things. Not to mention the anxious wave rolling through him was unbearable and cracking a poorly timed joke was an easy way to cope. The smirk on your bloodied lips reassured the worry of offending you that he pretended wasn’t there. Despite your acceptance of his joke, your reply was serious.

  “Didn’t know where else to go.” You rasped out. There was a rawness to your answer. There was none of that hero bravado. Just fear. It stirred something in him that he had been trying to pretend wasn’t there for a long time. It was easy to brush off when you were standing tall throwing his snarky banter back at him with the same level of wit he had thrown it at you with. There was something terrifying in your vulnerability that he couldn’t exactly place. Or at least he pretended like he couldn’t place it.

“Not sure if this would even be my first choice.” He said as he readjusted getting a better grasp on you. It was tempting to pick you up and carry you over the threshold of his apartment like a princess but he resisted. With your arm over his shoulder, he helped you to his uncomfortable couch, placing you down on it. Turning on the light he tried to get a better look at you.

Squinting from the brightness of the light only made things look worse. The blood on your face was still fresh, dripping down onto your clothes. Casual clothes. He wasn’t sure if he had ever seen you in anything other than your hero costume.

He took your chin between his fingers with a softness he didn’t even know he was capable of anymore, even more, surprising was how you didn’t flinch away from his touch. He wasn’t sure if that was some form of trust from you or just a sign of how out of it you were. There had to be some explainable reason you were here and not at a hero’s house or the hospital.

Looking at the cuts on your face he felt an anger rise in him that he didn’t expect. He wasn’t an innocent man, he had done this to people, he had probably done this to you at some point. Why was this upsetting him?

“Stay here, let me grab some stuff.” He said before going to the bathroom and grabbing his first aid kit from underneath the sink along with some wash clothes covered in warm water. Returning he knelt on the ground in front of you. Your eyes were closed and you were swaying back and forth even seated on the couch. He didn’t know anything about what happened but he had a bad feeling that someone had slipped you something.

“Tell me what happened.” A part of him was dying to know but he also knew you would need something to distract you from the pain of your wounds being cleaned up. Your eyes opened up and you stared at him blankly for a moment.

“Um, I- It-” You took a moment to get started. “I was at a bar. I was supposed to meet my friend. It was supposed to be a girl’s night, I got all ready, I even put on my favorite shirt.” You said looking down sadly at the black blouse you were wearing that was now covered in blood. Dabi carefully wiped away the blood on your face with the warm cloth looking for the wounds. “They couldn’t make it, hero emergency. I thought I’d at least stay for another drink since I was already there and dressed up.”

“Typical heroes, always running off.” Dabi scoffed.

“There was this guy, I didn’t think anything of it. I- I just wanted to finish my drink and go home but he started talking to me.” You said closing your eyes for a moment like you were trying to remember it all. “I thought he was maybe a fan. He wouldn’t stop talking to me, he got me a drink. I didn’t really want it but I didn’t want to be rude.”

“I would think a hero like you would be more careful.” Dabi scolded as finished cleaning up the cuts on your face. The thought of some guy bothering you made him sick which was unexpected. He moved on to cleaning the wounds on your face.

“I- I didn’t think he was dangerous.” You said in a small voice. Dabi paused, his hand resting on your chin tilting your gaze to his. For a moment he was pulled into your eyes, the warmth there even under the fear that still lingered. “I got up to leave, I was outside but my head was spinning. I didn’t drink that much, I knew something was wrong but I could barely stand up. Someone grabbed me, there was no one around, they pulled me into the alleyway there and I couldn’t do anything. My quirk wouldn’t work right, I couldn’t do anything to protect myself.”

The thought of you defenseless was far more upsetting than he could fathom. You hesitated to say what happened next, not that you really needed to, it was clear on the wounds that he was cleaning what they had done.

“Do you know who it was?” He asked trying to keep his voice even. The anger rising in him was hard to control, not that he was used to controlling himself.

“A local crime boss, or at least his guys.” You said. “I’ve been trying to stop him. He’s been using people, using their fear to get money and control from them. I’m going to stop him but he tried to stop me first I guess.”

Dabi made a note, it wouldn’t be hard for him to find him. Especially if he framed it as a business proposition from the league. That could wait, right now he just wanted to help you. How odd that was for him.

“Can’t let your guard down when you mess with underhanded criminals like that.” He said.

“What about criminals like you?” You asked. Your tone was teasing but he could hear the edge of honest interest in your voice.

“I’m a lot more straightforward. No fun beating your heroic rival when they’re already roughed up.” He said as he placed a bandage on your cheek. You had a few scratches on your face light bruises were already forming on your skin. “Let me get you some pain killers.”

Dabi returned with a glass of water and some pills before he went back to his room to find clothes you could wear. He grabbed a black shirt and some shorts.

“You can stay the night here.” He said. “Change into something more comfortable.”

You looked down at the clothes for a moment, possibly reconsidering the situation that you had put yourself in. To his surprise, you took the clothes and shakily stood up. He pointed you in the direction of his bathroom.

Dabi went into his room trying to tidy it up. Making the bed, grabbing the trash off the nightstand. He couldn’t recall the last time he had cleaned up for someone. He never cared what people thought of him or his place and it wasn’t like he had very many guests.

He turned at the sight of you in the doorway. You looked good in his shirt. You looked better in general, you had cleaned off the blood and grime that had been leftover and you looked a little more coherent now. He was still waiting for you to realize you were crazy for being here but you were still here.

You moved to lay down on the bed, pulling the thin covers over yourself.

“I’m cold.” You said.

“I don’t have any more blankets.” He replied. It wasn’t like he even needed blankets, he never got cold.

Before he could do or say anything else you grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into bed. For a moment he laid there in shock as you scooted closer to him.

The silence wasn’t awkward or tense but he found himself wondering if he should say something to break it. Social anxiety wasn’t something that Dabi faced often, you seemed to be putting him through a lot of unfamiliar moments tonight.

“Why did you come here?” He asked finally. The question had been on his mind all night. The pause of silence made him wonder if you had fallen asleep.

“I was scared and felt alone, I could barely think straight I knew I needed to go to someone but for some reason, your face was the only one in my mind.”

Dabi glanced over to you, you were looking up at him with a soft look in your eyes that made his heart flutter. Having you here tonight made him realize that his fascination with you was past that of a villain has for their rival. His interest in you was resembling a crush more than anything else at this point.

The fact that in a vulnerable state you thought to go to him, no you weren’t even thinking it was an instinct that brought you here.

“You’re safe here.” He said quietly, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you in. Your head rested against his chest and the way you nuzzled against him made his cheeks warm. Your eyes closed and your breathing evened and he knew you had fallen asleep.

One night had changed so much for him. He wasn’t sure if you would wake up tomorrow and regret coming here or if just maybe you felt similar to him. The thought was scary but for now, there was nothing he could do except enjoy the weight of you in his arms and think about how good it would feel to incinerate the person who had hurt you.

taglist:  @sugarmaplewings-fics @lilkiwisfinest @ewwis-but-more-otaku @kandy1410 @moonlightaangel @winnies-headcannons @bkghatesyou @paintedr0ses1 @toobsessedsstuff @spellboundxizi @ourladyofseijoh  @x0doodlebug0x @katsushimaa @mooncademia @moon-write @todominica @why-so-red @kvichisaki @curiouslilbeast @izukukozume @maat-the-prescriptive

[jiracheer]

Hey Can I request a headcanon or one shot with Haikyuu characters (any of your choices) having an accidental kiss with their crush, you know, the cliché romance scene in drama's where the girl fell and male catches her and end ups kissing, or something when the girl turn around not noticing the close distance between the male, and their lips touches. Anything that is accidental

notes : ROAARRSSS IVE BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS ONE. TURN IT UP!!!

pairings : tsukishima / sakusa (separate)

warnings : kithing 💋

song rec : beautiful boy - john lennon

✨🦕 tsukishima kei

I love him so much I’m going to cry

ANYWAYS

You’re fairly social in school!!

You have your group of friends who you talk to, and then there’s those you bid hello to in the hallways

Though, you seemed to chat more often with a familiar green haired boy and his bitter blond friend

You’re close with Yamaguchi, and you like to think the same with Tsukishima

Even if he flat out ignores you and leaves you behind when you tie your shoes in the hall 😔

But when he’s stuck with you on cleaning duty, he knows there’s really no escaping your running mouth

He doesnt say much, but he decides to nod every so often just to be polite. He figures you aren’t SO bad

It isn’t until he’s trapped in a closet with you, trying to get more supplies, that he wants to take his words back

You keep whining about his, and I quote, “Boney ass elbow.” Digging into your side

When he turns his head to snap at you

Well.

“Y/N. For the love, of everything that is fuckin holy, can you PLEASE shut up-“

The first thing Tsukishima notices when he faces you, is how soft your lips are when they accidentally make contact with his. Your eyes are wide, round with emotion, and your cheeks are a bright red. No one moves and for a second, he swears he can feel your fingers digging into his uniform.

You’re the first to pull away, head quickly turning to the side to look at the ground, but Tsukishima is too busy wondering what the fuck just happened. His golden stare is settled on your face, taking note of your side profile. His head tilts as a fondness creeps over him, and he can’t help but snicker and maybe laugh a bit.

“W-Why are you laughing! This isn’t funny, Tsukishima!” You slap his chest with a pout, angry that he was laughing at you.

It all comes to him at an overwhelming speed. Everything seems to be louder in the closet, and everything about you was just screaming at him. Since when did you smell like strawberries? And were you always that height? Did your eyelashes really flutter when you two kissed? He was tempted to go in for another, but his pride could never.

Elbowing you one last time, he grabs the paper towels he needs before bonking you over the head with a roll, earning him a pained shout and another rant as he leaves the closet with a small smirk.

✨🦠 sakusa kiyoomi

UGH. Periodt.

He’s so pretty and I also struggled to write for him but it’s fine ❤️

You knew Sakusa for being a fairly cold and introverted guy

It never really bothered you. You figured maybe he just preferred to live his life the way he does because that’s how he feels the most comfortable

But when you found out about his germaphobia and how people weren’t really respecting him... you decided to try to talk to him more

You respected the distance he wanted between the two of you, and offered to wear a mask if he liked

Sakusa was a bit hesitant about your behavior, but figured if you were going to willingly do it, there was no stopping you

So now the two of you are pretty good friends

You two fight every now and then, but who doesn’t?

When the two of you hang out, it’s pretty basic but you sorta like it

I mean, who doesn’t want to go on a relaxing walk in the park after a stressful volleyball season?

Your coat was pulled close to your face as you walked side by side with Sakusa, teeth chattering with your ears crying out in agony over the bitter cold.

“I think I’m dying-“

“You’re so over dramatic.”

Sakusa looked down at you, and you met his gaze easily. His dark eyes spoke of annoyance. Like he wanted to push you into the nearest snow bank and leave you there, but you knew with him slowly inching towards you, he took your words seriously.

“I told you to wear something warm. Did I not?” The tall man seemed to scold you now, shaking his head as he adjusted his face mask. He wouldn’t tolerate that shit dipping under his nose, and you shouldn’t either.

“I know but- W. WOAH-“

Your boots made contact with ice. A sign that God had told you to get fucked as you kicked your feet around in an attempt to catch yourself, but your failing arms were met with a stronger pair as Sakusa tried to at least help you. “Y/N- Calm DOWN-“

Next thing you knew you two were sliding all over the place until your foot knocked into his, making you scream as you fell forward onto the ground. You heaved as you turned around, only to have a weight fall on you with your nose meeting a painful impact.

You’re about to start crying when you realize there’s a warmth on your lips, even if it was clothed, and your eyes snapped open to meet Sakusa’s terrified ones, and the two of you worked on getting back up.

You were sure you’ve never seen Sakusa‘a face that shade of red before, and his twiddling hands proved to you that he was extremely nervous.

But he was nervous because he wasn’t sure if that was going to make, or break your friendship.

While he didn’t habour any feelings for you, the abrupt and sudden ‘kiss’ woke something in him. His chest pulled tight and when he noticed the snowflakes in your hair, it was the first time he realized you were pretty.

“C-Come on. Let’s go. You might die or something if you have a concussion-“

“WAHHHH OMI STOP DONT SAY THAT TO ME-“

Yeah... You were pretty... Pretty loud.

[imagineyourworld-old]

Timing

Poe Dameron x Genderneutral!Reader 

Summary: You are in love with your best friend Poe, your best friend Poe is in love with you. Is there a chance for you love even though you realize it at different times?

Warnings: Angst, might differ from canon (is there even a canon for what happened after ROS?) 

-------

It retrospect you should have known it was a bad idea. You knew Poe like the back of your hand, you should have anticipated his reaction. But he was leaving for a dangerous mission to Jakku the next day and you couldn’t bare the thought of never telling him how you felt. So you gathered all your courage and did it.  “Poe?”, you started.  The pilot, who was laying on his bed next to you, turned his eyes away from his datapad to face you.  “What is it, honey?”  The way he looked at you made your heartbeat quicken and your hands clammy. Even though he was tired, had dark rings under his eyes and his hair hadn’t seen a brush in weeks, he was the most handsome man you had seen in your life. Part of you knew that he had no reason to return your feelings, he could have anyone he wanted and more often than not invited various people to his room after a night of celebration while you prefered to stay in your quarters altogether. “I love you.”  The words rolled off your tongue as if you’d said them a thousand times before. You and Poe had never shied away from showing or voicing your affection for the other, not when you were kids on Yavin IV, not in the academy and not when you joined the resistance. But this time you tried your best to convey the word’s true meaning, to make him realize what you yourself had realized years ago, that there was no one else for you, that Poe was not your best friend, he was your soulmate, the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.  The man in question let go of his datapad to capture your hands in his. Gently he stroked your knuckles before pressing a soft kiss to them.  “I love you too.”  The way he said it made it obvious to you what he meant. You’re my best friend and I love you. Not You’re the one I have fallen for and I love you.  You shook your head. When you thought back to that day this was the moment you wanted to erase, the one you wished had never happened.  “No, Poe. I am in love with you.”  If he noticed the tremble in your voice he didn’t comment on it. Instead, fast as lightning, Poe sat up straight and looked at you, really looked at you.  “What?”  By now you knew that you had screwed up, but his reaction told you that he had understood you perfectly. It was disbelief that made him ask that question and you had no other choice than to repeat yourself.  “I am in love with you, Poe.”  His eyes darkened. You were looking for anger in them, maybe frustration, but all you found was fear and... regret?  “How can you say that? You’re my best friend, how can you say that you’re in love with me?”  You opened your mouth and closed it again. Poe knew, he had to know, that at least half of the Resistance had a crush on him, so why did it come as a surprise that the same went for his best friend, the one he spent more time with than anyone else?  “I... I just needed to tell you before tomorrow. You know how dangerous this mission is going to be and if anything were to happen I want to to know how loved you are.”  Finally Poe let go of your hands. He ran a hand through his dark curls, again and again. It was a nervous habit he had picked up from his father when he was a kid and usually you found it endearing, but today it only made you feel worse.  “Just forget it. Please. Let’s just watch a holovid or something and forget I ever said anything”, you begged. Tears were shining in your eyes and when the first rolled down Poe, his fingers gentle as ever, brushed it away.  “I think I’d rather go over the mission plan again”, he smiled at you and anyone who wasn’t his best friend might have found that smile convincing, but you knew better. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, alright?”  You didn’t know what to say, so you just nodded. Of course you would see him off before his big mission, you always did. Just as you always spend the evening before the mission together, usually sleeping in the same bed, holding each other close in case... just in case. It had been things like that that had made you think that there was a chance that Poe felt the same way. The secret smiles he sent you, the small touches whenever you were within reach, the way he made it obvious to you that you came first, sometimes even before the Resistance.  Without another word Poe hurried out of your room. It wasn’t until the door closed behind him and you heard a soft beep that you realized he had been in such a hurry to get away from you that he had forgotten to take BB8 with him.  “You wanna go after him?”  Tears were now flowing from your eyes and there was a hiccup in your voice, which was surely the reason the droid decided to keep you company for a little while longer. 

-------

The next day Poe had already left when you arrived at the hanger, even though you were earlier than the agreed upon time.  When he returned you ran up to him. You had thought he was dead and even if he didn’t return your feelings, he was still your best friend. At least that’s what you thought.  You tried your best to hate Finn, but you just couldn’t. Yes, Poe had pretty much chosen him as his new best friend, but he was just so nice and kind and considerate, you couldn’t hate him. Besides, it was not Finn’s fault that you had been replaced. The first couple of month you blamed yourself., You shouldn’t have told Poe that you loved him, if you hadn’t nothing would have changed. Then you blamed Poe. You had never demanded that he loved you back, but you had been friends since before you could talk, how could he just throw all those years away? How could he refuse even your most innocent, most desperate, attempts at conversation?  No matter how mad you were at Poe, your love for him was unchanged. You saw him every day and he was as kind and brave and funny and handsome as ever, all the reasons you had fallen for him in the first place were still there.  Of course you were glad when the war ended and the First Order was defeated for all the right reasons, but part of you was glad you could leave the Resistance. They no longer needed you now that it was time to rebuild instead of fight.  If all your hope of Poe ever loving you hadn’t died long ago it might have rekindled when you said goodbye.  For the first time in forever he took time to actually talk to you. And though his hug seemed as warm and sincere as ever, you couldn’t believe his words.  “I’m sad to see you go, but I’ll visit soon.”  Of course you nodded, of course you hugged him back, but part of you know just how hollow his words really were. They had to be. 

-------

Poe felt bad for how long it had been since he last visited his father. Though Kes never complained, Poe knew the old man missed his son and wanted to see him more often. But there was just so much to do, so whenever he did visit it was usually spontaneous and never for more than a couple of hours.  He opened the front door, not bothering to knock. This was his home after all, even if he rarely ever visited.  The smells that greeted Poe were familiar; his mum’s favourite flowers that his dad always kept someone in the house, a freshly brewed cup of tea and something that smelled like a distant childhood memory.  Even though it should have been impossible, the sound he heard as soon as he stepped through the door was even more familiar. It send sparks flying through his body and made a grin spread on his face. Quickly he put a finger to his lips to tell BB8 next to him to be quiet.  It had been so long since he last heard your laughter. Sometimes at night he heard it in his dreams, saw your face along with his mum’s. The two women he loved more than anything, the two women he lost. Shara’s death hadn’t been his fault, but not a day went by that Poe didn’t blame himself for letting you go.  He had been too focused on the war, on saving people and making a better future to realize that the reason he fought, the person he wanted to spend his future with had been right beside him all along. He didn’t know why he hadn’t realized it when you told him that you loved him, why it had taken not having you in his life to come to the realization that he wanted you in his life, more than anything. And perhaps this was his chance.  He tried to be as quiet as possible on his way to the living room, but as soon as he entered both you and Kes turned around.  His father was the first to get up and envelop Poe in a hug.  “What a surprise. How are you? You must be hungry, can I get you anything?”  Poe declined the offer. Even if he had been hungry, his nerves wouldn’t have allowed him to swallow a single bite. He felt bad for basically ignoring his father, but how could he not when you were standing right there?  “(Y/N), it’s... You look...”  Beautiful wasn’t enough to describe you. Even covered in grease and sweat with only a couple hours of sleep you had been pretty, but now you had no circles under your eyes, your hair was shiny and looked just so soft and there was an aura around you that could only be described as peace and happiness. And though Poe was glad you seemed happy, it did sting a bit that you were so happy without him.  “It’s been a while”, you smiled. If Poe hadn’t been in love with you before that smile would have made him fall for you. In retrospect he had no idea how he had gone most of his life without being in love with you.  “I’ll let the two of you catch up. I should get to the kitchen anyway, Oscar should be here soon”, Kes declared and with an affectionate pad on his son’s shoulder he left the room.  Poe was so busy staring at you that it took him a while to process his dad’s words.  “Who is Oscar?”  The soft smile on your face grew bigger than Poe had ever seen it and a spark took hold of your eyes. He couldn’t categorize that expression, but he knew that he wanted to see it every day for the rest of his life.  He only realized that he had gotten closer to you when he suddenly felt your body heat. He hadn’t meant to, but something about you pulled him in like a magnet. He reached out a hand to push a strand of hair behind your ear, but the second he heard your word’s the hand fell.  “My husband.”  “Your... your... you’re married?”  Thoughts were chasing in Poe’s head. How could he not have known that you were married? How could you marry someone else when he was so in love with you?  Instead of an answer you simply raised your hand. There was a ring where, in his dreams, Poe had seen his mother’s ring countless times. It was fairly simple, and yet it seemed expensive. More expensive than anything Poe could ever have given you. “Why didn’t you tell me?”, he finally asked after moments of silence.  You shrugged, a gesture that was so achingly familiar that it took Poe’s breath away.  “We weren’t really talking anymore.”  Of course you were right. Ever since you left the Resistance the two of you hadn’t spoken. Poe knew it was selfish of him to expect that you should have told him, should have invited him so he could have stopped the love of his life from marrying someone else.  “Oh...”, was all he was able to say.  He should have know that you wouldn’t be in love with him forever, but it hurt even more learning that you were married the day he had planned on telling you that he was in love with you. It had taken Finn and Rey months of trying to convince him to just tell you, after all you lived on Yavin IV, so it’s not like he had to see you every day if you didn’t return his feelings, he could have just left and tried to move on. Maybe, he thought, that was the very reason you had moved on, because you never saw Poe anymore. If only he had visited you as well as his dad, if only he had begged you to stay when you decided to leave, if only he had realized how he felt when you confessed your love.  “Your dad invited us to dinner, so you’ll meet Oscar when he arrives in half an hour. He’s still at work right now, but-”  “I can’t stay”, Poe cut you off. It hurt knowing that you were married and seeing your love for your husband in your eyes, but Poe knew that seeing the two of you together would break him.  “Another time then”, you said with a soft smile. A smile Poe just wanted to kiss off your lips but never could.  When you hugged him goodbye he breathed in your familiar smell, but underneath that there was a slight hint of a cologne that must be your husband’s. In a single second memories rushed through Poe’s brain.  You wearing his shirt and laughing.  You falling asleep in his arms.  You hugging Shara and Kes before the two of you left for the academy.  And the image that haunted his dreams of you with a baby in your arm, BB8 at your feet and Shara’s ring on your finger.  Poe didn’t know how you had managed to survive after he had rejected you because he felt like he was drowning.  He barely heard his father’s soft “I’m so sorry, son” or your “We’ll need to catch up soon”.  It wasn’t until he was in hyperspace that tears starting rolling down his cheeks and neither the stars flying by nor BB8′s comforting beeps could make him feel better.  At least you were happy, that was the only thought that brought him any comfort. 

-------

Once again I should just finish my other stories before writing a new one, but this idea was just begging to be written. 

I might write a second part, if anyone would want to read it, though I’m not sure yet. 

Also please excuse that I couldn’t come up with a better name for the husband, but I guess the reader just has a type. 

[anntoldst0ries]

Everything else is just the weather

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Dr Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr Noelle Valentine) Word Count: ~5.3k (I sinned!) Summary: Ethan takes Elle out on their “first” date. Category: Fluff Warnings: None

A/N: It has literally taken me ages to finish this fic. To the point that I couldn’t look at it anymore, but here it is. I had it in mind for a really long time and now that OH is back, I feel like I’m ready to show it to the world. As always thank you for your support and I hope you like it!

This fic is part 2 of birthday present for my friend, part 1 is the fan art which you can see here. Once you read the fic, the fan art makes more sense :)

This is my submission for CFWC Silly Love Stories, Day 12: Date night.

Loud knocks resonated throughout the room. 

"Come in!"

"Good morning, Mrs. Peterson.”

“Good morning, Dr Valentine. I think you are the only doctor in this hospital with some sort of manners, everyone else just waltzes in here as if it was a damn barn!”

“Hospital or no hospital, everyone has their right to privacy.”

“Thank you, child. Once again, please call me Faye."

"Alright Faye, but only if you call me Elle.” She smiled sweetly, and the whole room seemed to be suddenly lit by a thousand suns.

“How are you feeling? Are the meds making a difference?"

"They are. I am ready to be discharged today.”

"Not so fast. I am not ready to say goodbye to you yet."

“Why would you possibly like to be lumbered with an old nuisance like me for even a second longer than necessary?”

Elle just laughed and shook her head. The ‘nuisance’, as the elderly lady so lovingly put it, was exactly what she loved about her job. She loved spending time with her patients, she loved their stories and their worldly wisdom. It made her sad to see how many of them thought they didn’t matter or considered themselves and their lives boring. To her, they were anything but. 

Many of Edenbrook’s staff members kept asking themselves: what is it about her? She was a great doctor, no two ways about it, and she was a genuinely nice person. But what was the source of power she had over people? If she woke up one day and decided to start a rebellion, patients would have most certainly followed her, even if it meant they’d be leaving the premises of the hospital with naked butts or trailing their IVs behind them. Doctors, nurses, administration, cleaners and security would follow shortly. She only had to say a word.

And how on Earth was she capable of turning Dr Ramsey, the grizzly bear of Edenbrook, into a benign teddy bear with as little as one look? It was beyond everyone’s apprehension.

Had they spent more time actually observing her, rather than gossiping in the corners, the answer would have unveiled in front of them within minutes.

It was very simple.

Noelle was truly curious about people. She genuinely liked them and was determined to get to know their story, for it helped her diagnose them faster and also satiated the young doctor’s hunger for knowledge.

Patients never felt like “curious cases” or “numbers” in her presence. They were… themselves - people with hopes, dreams, fears, pet peeves and odd habits. They were human. 

So little and yet so much.

Those never touched by serious illnesses often failed to understand that sickness strips you of your dignity and becomes your identity. Your true self becomes covered by this weird, annoying sticker that wouldn’t come off no matter how hard you tried to remove it. 

But this young woman, despite the nature of her profession, somehow managed to notice what was hiding beneath this misleading layer.

Had all these gossipers spoken to her patients, that’s exactly what they would have heard.

"What's happening today?" The older lady asked with a flick of curiosity in her wrinkle-haloed eyes.

"What do you mean, Faye?" The young doctor sounded genuinely baffled by the out-of-the-blue question.

"Well, I am no diagnostician, but I believe I am rather observant and you radiate with happiness. Something special is happening today, am I right?"

"Yeah, you are right." Elle blushed like a teenager caught in a lie. "My boyfriend is taking me on a surprise date today, but he won’t say a word about it, so I'm super excited to find out what he planned for us. He usually isn't one for romantic gestures, so the secrecy is killing me."

"Do you think he's gonna pop the big question?" Faye’s eyes lit up with excitement.

"No, we're not there...yet." Elle faked a smile, but a tone of doubt and sadness coloured her voice. They probably never will be, those things weren’t in the cards for Ethan, as he already stressed once.

But once was enough and she didn’t dare mention the subject again.

"Well, I'm pretty sure he's got some big guns in store, I would if I had a lady like you." - a male patient lying in the bed adjacent to Elle’s patient added smiling flirtatiously. 

"Jerry, you were supposed to focus on getting better, not stealing my girlfriend." They all jumped when a deep baritone echoed throughout the room, hitting present company like a wrecking ball. She must have left the door ajar or Ethan could penetrate the walls soundlessly, because no one heard him coming.

Exactly how long has he been standing there for and how much did he hear?

"Dr. Ramsey, flirting makes your blood flow faster. Isn't it the very definition of life itself?” Jerry’s tone was brisk and lively.

"Well, it definitely isn't the definition of recovery after a heart attack." Ethan used his authoritative doctor’s voice but knew this wasn't a battle he was going to win. Jerry had something he didn't: a couple more decades of life experience under his belt and even the best medical school in the country couldn’t compete with this.  

"Besides, Dr. Ramsey, I don't think that the beautiful Dr. Valentine here fancies old farts like me." 

"That's where you are wrong, Jerry, looks like this is exactly the type I fancy." The two women laughed, however Ethan was far from amused. "Dr. Ramsey is 10 years older than me."

"10 years? What is 10 years in these times? Nothing. When I was getting married 40 years ago, it was something. But today? Look at all them playboys with girls younger than my granddaughter. 10 years is actually a very healthy difference. Men are immature and slower with growing up emotionally. So I'd say you've caught up, Dr. Ramsey, and the two of you are emotional peers now.”

“Thank you for the fascinating lesson in human psychology, Jerry. To think I’ve wasted all this time and money on medical school and no one taught me this.”

“Dr. Ramsey, it’s because schools and useful knowledge are mutually exclusive.”

Elle and Faye were on the verge of bursting out in laughter, but managed to keep their composure and used the non-verbal communication of exchanging glances instead.

Once they made sure their patients had everything they need, Ethan and Elle wished them a good day and promised to stop by in 2 days, as the following day was their day off.

The moment the door closed behind them, Ethan crossed his arms on his chest.

"I lose you from my sight for one second and this happens. 5 more minutes with Jerry and I'd be single again."

"At least no one wants to poke your eyes out for being with me."

"And someone wants to poke yours?"

"Where do I start... nurses, who had a crush on you long before I even set foot in Edenbrook? Female interns? Anyone, who has a pair of functioning eyes and ever looked at you?"

She was adorable when she was doing this, her whole body overtaken by excitement and her hands waving. When she was talking about something really important to her she wasn't just conversing with her mouth, she was doing it with her whole body.

Suddenly, his pager painfully reminded Ethan that this was neither the place nor the time to lose himself in adoration.

"I need to go, I'm completely swamped today and I have my favourite cherry-on-top board meeting. In case I don't see you for the rest of your shift - I’ll pick you up at 7."

He was gone before she was able to form a response. Was it just her or was Dr Ramsey weirdly… nervous?

* * * * * * * *

At 7pm sharp, Ethan Ramsey curled his palm in a fist and gently knocked. The door opened in an instant, as if someone knew he'd been standing there for the past few minutes.

"Ethan! I mean Dr. Ramsey...please come in!" Sienna squeaked with nervous excitement as she let him in.

"Outside of Edenbrook Ethan is just fine, Sienna. If you don't mind me calling you by your first name, of course."

"Mm..mme? No, yes, I mean... Elle is on the balcony." She tried to hide her embarrassment and motioned towards the tall windows surrounding the living room. Some time ago, he would have been oddly proud to have such an intimidating effect on people - nowadays, more than anything, he was amused. Has he really changed so much?

The answer to his question was leaning against the railing, glass of wine in her hand. Gauzy, flowery dress enveloped her frame and tanned skin. 

For Ethan, it was as clear as crystal: summer had the face and scent of Noelle Valentine.

Long before she started leaving her toothbrush in his apartment and sleeping in his old JH t-shirts, Ethan noticed that whenever he laid eyes on her, his whole body started acting in a very irrational way. His doctor’s instincts prompted him to think of all types of biological causes and chemical reactions in the brain. Then, when he sort of admitted to himself it’s not just pure science, Ethan leaned towards the forbidden fruit theory - the more he couldn’t have his drug, the more he was craving it.

But the feeling never disappeared. Whenever he wouldn’t see her for a while - be that an hour, a day, or just when she went to take a shower or make a coffee - the very moment her face came into his view again, he felt his stomach somersaulting.

Every. Single. Time.

It wasn’t any different now.

"Drinking without me?"

She almost dropped the glass when his voice stopped the train of thought in her head. But then she saw his face, the way too seldom relaxed muscles and a barely-there smile.

A perfectly tailored shirt clung to his torso marvellously. If not in medicine, he surely would have made a name for himself in the fashion industry. Fortunately for her, the idea never crossed his mind. 

The warm wind blew in her face, carrying the scent of expensive cologne which overwhelmed her nostrils. She didn’t know this one, so it must have been new. But she did know that smelling it for the whole evening while staring at his handsome face will be a pure torture.

Simply put, she was a goner.

"I don't know why, but I was quite nervous. Had to summon the courage somehow.”

“As you should be. After all, it's not every day that one goes on their first date."

She looked at him as if she’d just been told that a UFO landed on the roof.

“On a what?”

"Well, I was thinking a lot lately about how we never had a first date. Nothing was ever...typical with us. I promised myself I will do my best to fix things that caused you pain or deprived you of the things you deserved. Maybe I cannot fix some immediately, but this one I can, so I will."

Her eyes, overbrimming with affection struck him like thousand lightnings. Thank god a comfortable silence fell between them - had she asked him a question, it would have been clear that right now he is nothing but a simpering moron.

With this in mind, he took his hands from behind his back, holding a small bouquet of pink gerberas.

"These are my favourites." Her face instantly illuminated at the well known sight and smell. "How did you know?”

"I had some amazing helpers."

Elle instantly turned her head left and looked inside, where grinning, Sienna was showing her the thumbs up.

"Wow, now I actually wish I'd downed the whole bottle."

"I'm glad you didn't. I want to go on a date with a woman, not her lifeless body, even though the body itself is very appealing. Shall we?”

“King of compliments…”

* * * * * * * *

"You actually look like you are having a good time, Dr Ramsey.”

"Why wouldn't I? There is alcohol, sitting under the sky definitely has its charm and the company is acceptable." She playfully swatted his arm, the gesture a quick reminder of how comfortable they felt with each other, something he constantly remembered to never take for granted.

“Although I love this, I still don’t understand why you dragged me all the way outside Boston, I’m pretty sure the rooftop bars are pretty acceptable there, too. A bit more crowded though, that’s for sure.”

“Are you complaining about the fact that we have this entire place to ourselves? I know the owner and he was indebted to me.”

“Of course he was.” Looks like the whole town is indebted to Ethan freakin’ Ramsey.

“With regards to why I brought you here… you’ll just have to wait and see.”

Gosh. She couldn’t decide whether the mysterious side of Ethan Ramsey was hot as hell or annoying as hell. But she didn’t really have time to contemplate, because her companion asked her a question.

“Why did you become a doctor?” The ocean eyes pierced her to the core and she had a feeling that even if she was the best actress in the world, there was no way she’d be able to hide something from this man.

“That’s a terrible change of subject. Also, I must have told you like a million times already.”

“No, you never told me.”

When she looked at him and really, really thought about it… she suddenly realised Ethan was right. Elle told the story so many times she sort of… assumed she told Ethan, too. 

“Are you sure you want to hear it today? It’s a pretty sad story, a mood killer I’d say.”

“It’s what makes you you, so yes, I want to hear all about it - the good, the bad and the indifferent.”

“I’ll tell you, but I need to ask something first. Why now? We’ve known each other for a while and you just… I just sort of assumed this isn’t the type of conversation you’d like to hold.”

“You’ve hit the nail on the head.” Ethan’s expression was gentle, not a hint of irony in his voice. “I’ve known you for a while now, but there are still so many things about you that I don’t know. At first, I didn’t want to ask, because asking these questions meant admitting that there is something more between us. What a fail would that be, after I’ve mastered the art of denial.” He laughed, but it wasn’t a bitter or a nervous laugh, it was a genuine banter between them, as the British half of her soul liked to call it. “But you made me want to dig deeper.”

Was it the heat that made her catch her breath, or did it have nothing to do with the temperature?

“Plus, this is sort of what first dates are for, right? I’m sorry for skipping right to the more complex questions. It’s not that I don’t want to know what you were afraid of as a child, I want to know all the details… but it feels like the atmosphere calls for something…bigger.”

So she told him all about her friend, how she fell ill, how she couldn’t be saved and how the experience wreaked havoc on her whole life, tears glistening in her eyes at the mere memory of the events that shaped who she was today.

Ethan listened, his whole body tense and eyes transfixed. She was giving him one of the most fragile parts of her and he had to make sure his hands were there to catch, carry and care for this treasure.

“And that’s when I realised that if I focused on becoming the best doctor I could be, then maybe one day, I’d be that person who has an answer, who can solve a mystery and save a relationship that means the world to someone. Sometimes, people don’t realise that when a person dies, it’s not only them that’s gone. The part of someone who stays, who has to deal with the whole ‘me after you’ - that part is gone, too. So for me, in a way, this meant saving more than one life.”

For a couple of seconds he didn’t move. Then, without saying a single word and with an unreadable expression he got up and offered her a hand, which she silently accepted. He led her to the railing, where the sun was slowly sinking into the boundless waters of Quincy Bay.

His lips found the all too well known way to her forehead, placing a loving kiss on her delicate skin.

“I am so proud of you.” There was something so mesmerising in his whisper, sending a shiver down her spine.

“As a mentor or as a boyfriend?”

“Both. I want you to know that your dedication to people who rely on you is astounding and hardly present in doctors your age. Or any age, for that matter.”

“Wow, Dr Ramsey, smooth. Trying to hit on me with a recycled pick-up line used on a national TV? No wonder you didn’t have too many girlfriends.”

“No, I didn’t. But I believe everyone has a limit of luck they can get per life. And looking at you, I got a couple of lifetimes worth of luck.”

This was enough to render her speechless. She smiled and at this very moment he knew he would do anything to make her smile like this. She wrapped him around her pinky finger and suddenly his whole existence revolved around finding ways of seeing her curve these breathtaking lips as often as possible and making sure he is the reason she smiles… not crying her eyes out.

Although the other didn’t know, because none of them said it out loud, they both thought the same thing.

This feels so right. 

There isn’t a hint of awkwardness in the fact that they can go from being serious or emotionally vulnerable to funny and teasing in seconds.

In one effortless movement, Ethan spun her and pressed her back against his chest.  Then, he started placing a series of tender kisses along her jawline and the crook of her neck, slowly moving towards her shoulder. 

Come on, just say it Ramsey. It doesn’t get any better than this.

He wrapped her palm in his and pointed them towards the sky. 

“There they are - the Little Dipper and the Big Dipper.” Their intertwined fingers were jumping from one tiny flashing point to the other, as if they were playing connect the dots. “And that’s Orion’s Belt.”

“I really don’t get why at this point I’m still surprised that you’re good at everything.”

Elle was drunk on his every word, as this annoying trait of Ethan Ramsey being the know-it-all was actually one of her favourite things about him. 

As for Ethan, he couldn’t help but think that life wasn’t perfect and was never going to be. But this - this moment - it was in fact perfect. Why take chances of ruining it, when so many things can go wrong?

What if she doesn't say it back?

What if she's just gonna laugh at him or tell him he had it all wrong.

What if he misinterpreted everything and she never thought about him this way?

He was terrified of being this exposed. The last person he loved so much left him without batting an eyelid and disappeared for 25 fucking years.

Maybe it was better to live in a perfect illusion than a reality in which there was even a 0.01% chance she doesn't love him back.

So they both drowned in the moment, drifted in the sea of rapture, lost in the illusion that it can all last forever.

It was her who broke the silence.

“I’m getting a bit cold, is it ok if we call it a night?”

“Right, of course.”

“Thank you for the first date, I loved it.”

Handing her his jacket (her favourite, the dark green leather one) Ethan was furious at himself. 

Maybe he was broken. Maybe he will remain broken forever. Maybe that’s the way it must be.

“Do you want to spend the night at mine?” The question slipped his tongue before he was able to fully reflect on it.

“At yours? Unless you have some secret place I don’t know about, just a quick reminder - I live there too.”

“Since this was our first date, I thought it was a gentlemanly thing to ask.”

“In that case… I am afraid I have the ‘after the 3rd date’ sleepover rule, Dr Ramsey.”

* * * * * * * *

The morning came all too soon and the hot, ruthless rays of the rising sun announced that Ethan is now way past his regular wake up and get up time. He barely slept, tossing and turning, replaying every second of the evening in his head.

His hand mindlessly reached for what he hoped to be the familiar curves and softness of the body he adored so much. 

But his palm hit the mattress with a loud thud. The bed was empty. 

The all-too-well known feeling of hopelessness slipped into the doctor's mind with ease. What did he expect? He was acting weird the previous day. First date, what a stupid idea. She must have realised something is wrong with him and finally left.

But before he was able to fully wallow in the mud of pity, the feeling was soon replaced by an old friend Ethan haven’t heard from for a long time.

Panic. 

Where was she? Is she ok? What if something happened to her and he was just sleeping like a log instead of being there to protect her. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing her… again. Something grabbed his chest in a tight grip and wouldn’t let go. 

Scenes flashed before his eyes, vivid and bright. Their hands touching through the glass wall. Her hand cupping his cheek through the layer of hazmat suit.

He got out of bed at the speed of sound and started running around the apartment, but she was nowhere to be seen. 

Suddenly, he noticed.

The balcony door was opened wide. 

Shit.

Heart in his mouth, Ethan crossed the distance between his kitchen island and the balcony door in the blink of an eye. 

Elle was just serving pancakes outside. The goddamn pancakes. The only thing he couldn’t cook. The one thing she kept teasing him about and he rolled his eyes every time she did.

God, he promised himself he will never learn how to make them, if it meant she would just tease him forever.

She was smiling as widely as ever, putting the sun and everything else in the world to shame. Ethan was still a bit shaken and his uneven breathing gave him away. Elle finally noticed his presence.

“Good morning, I was just about to—“

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They both froze. 

The tension in the silence that had just set in was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

But the silence didn’t last long. As one man, with eyes full of disbelief, they both murmured simultaneously:

“What did you just say?”

This time, he felt obliged to break the silence.

"I...I...I mean, I…" 

Damn it, get it together, idiot.

"I didn't mean to…”

Great, Ramsey, keep digging an even deeper hole for yourself, then crawl in and stay there forever.

"You didn't mean to say it?”

"Yes. No. I mean, damn it, I am making things worse, aren't I?”

She didn’t set him straight.

"The thing is, I wanted to say it yesterday. I had it all planned, I took you for a first date and I wanted to say it for the first time yesterday.”

"Why did it have to be yesterday?”

“Give me a minute.”

She just rolled her eyes, but Ethan didn’t have a chance to notice before disappearing inside. A few moments later he re-emerged, his face and torso covered by a neatly wrapped, rectangle-shaped object.

"What's this?"

"Something you should have unpacked yesterday, but then... life happened."

Elle sat down on cold tiles, her hands trembling with a mix of fear and excitement. And just like he did months ago, he took her hand in his, only this time he cupped his own cheek with her palm and placed the most tender kiss on the inside of her hand.

It was her favourite medicine, a remedy for all things wrong. 

He sat beside her and nodded at the mysterious package. With impatience growing inside of her, Elle has torn the paper up.

Inside was a dark blue, framed print - the colour of it an instant reminder of her favourite set of irises.

She studied everything with intent. A circle must have been representing the earth and the irregular dots and lines must have been the stars and constellations. 

"A map of the sky? That's beautiful, Ethan."

He knew immediately that although her delight was sincere, she had absolutely no clue what she was looking at and why she was looking at it.

“It's not just any map of the sky.” Ethan explained gently, hints of pride colouring his voice. “It's a map of the Boston sky from exactly a year ago. Well, a year and a day.” He smiled faintly, now a shade of sorrow in his enchanting voice.

Silence. Was she supposed to know what that meant?

“Aren’t you full of mysteries today? Ok, you need to throw me a lifebelt here. What's so special about the sky from a year and a day ago?”

“For the world? Probably not too much. For me? Everything.”

At this stage of their relationship, she knew a lot about Ethan’s behaviours, triggers, his body language. And not just a relationship as a couple, but also everything that came before Ethan became someone she was running through life with (the life of two doctors in one of the busiest and most prestigious hospitals was certainly not a walk in the park).

But it still fascinated her how his demeanour changed whenever the subject was serious, whenever he was talking about something that truly mattered to him. It was as if he’d stripped down of all the layers and let her look into his bare soul. These rare moments of vulnerable intimacy meant more to her than any night of passion they ever shared.

Her eyes turned to him in pledge, because as much as she wanted to, Dr Valentine still couldn’t fully comprehend the scene unraveling in front of her.

“Read the description below the map.”

Dear God, did she actually hear shyness in his voice?

She skimmed through the image again, and there it was, right at the bottom. Elle was so focused on trying to decipher the meaning of the image that she didn’t notice the words below. 

The words which explained everything.

I WILL NEVER FORGET THE DAY 

THAT MADE ME REALISE

YOU ARE THE SKY

EVERYTHING ELSE IS JUST THE WEATHER

Her emerald eyes brimmed with hot tears as the meaning dawned upon her. Words were very unnecessary, but now that he summoned the courage to speak, there was still a lot he wanted to put into words. He gently took the frame from her hands and leaned it securely against the wall.

Taking her palms into his, he placed delicate kisses on her knuckles, his lips tracing the shape of these two tiny hands, which held all of him. Everything he had, everything he was and was going to be, he placed in those two fragile palms, with an unspoken hope that they will hold him and catch him if he falls. 

“Look at me.” The words were pulsing with care and affection, even though his voice coloured them in serious and desperate shades.

“One year ago… and a day from today…” He smiled and she felt the warmth spilling inside of her. The power he had over her was beyond the limits of understanding. 

Little did she know that the object of her affection was lost in the same thought.

“I was standing exactly where we stand right now. It was dark and the view wasn’t that spectacular.” He freed one of his hands, but only to make contact with her cheek to caress it slowly. In this moment, he had to touch her any way that he could. With his hands. With his eyes. With his soul.

“But I always found comfort in staring at the sky. When I was at med school, I had countless moments of doubt, I wanted to quit more times than I can count. So I used to go to a secluded place at night and stare at the sky. It made me realise how, in one respect, I am just a grain of sand in the universe and how little my problems are. Funnily enough, this thought actually brought me a sense of comfort. If I am as little as I think I am, then what is the harm in being brave and taking chances? A wise man once said… There are some things that are worth any risk.” 

She giggled through the tears, the sweet sound soothing his shattered nerves.

“I was standing right here and I never felt more miserable in my life. And I couldn’t understand why, for God’s sake. I was thriving at work. I had everything figured out and planned. I was pushing you to be the best you could be and I watched you turn into someone who would one day be far greater than me. But you looked so sad, so… broken. You already know I can’t just gloss over you feeling down. The sadder you were, the more miserable I felt. One evening, I was having a glass of scotch and I remembered some tiny exchange we’ve had earlier in the day, literally a chit chat. No idea what it was about. But I remembered your smile and your laugh. Every tiniest move of your muscles, your eyes, how your hair set around your face. It made me happy. Even if it was just for 5 minutes, knowing that you are happy in that very moment filled my chest with lightness. That’s when I realised I want to be the person who makes you feel this way.”   

She blinked the first time in a while, as if she was afraid to make the tiniest movement, afraid it will all disappear and turn out to be a dream. Giant teardrops rolled down her angelic face, trailing the path of joy.

“Noelle Sky Valentine, I love you. I have loved you for a long time but I was too stubborn to let myself give in. And that, as you already know, will always be one of my biggest regrets.” 

“Ethan, I don’t… I’m so sorry, I just don’t know what to say.” Her voice was saturated with emotions.

“I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for.“ 

“I love you too, Ethan Jonah Ramsey. You are by far the most complicated and stubborn person I have ever met. You are… everything I never knew I looked for in another human being.”

Once he heard her say it back, he couldn't get enough of it and a lifetime didn't feel like enough to tell her he loves her, as many times as he wished to.

“But I do have to mention this, Dr Ramsey… from the first date to a love confession in less than 24 hours? I’m sorry, I think this is moving too fast.”

“I’ll show you too fast…but I’m afraid we need to get inside, I don’t want the whole world and its wife to see how I teach you a thing or two.”

Ethan scooped her in his arms and carried her inside, despite her mock protests. He smiled and corrected himself. 

He wanted for the whole world to see.

Because the whole world was right there. 

In his arms.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

If you’ve gotten this far, I need you to know you are absolutely amazing 💗

Tag 🏷 list: @jamespotterthefirst @romewritingshop @romereadingshop @genevievemd @starrystarrytrouble @terrm9 @mrs-ramsey @maurine07 @gryffindordaughterofathena @mercury84choices @lovingramsey @qrkowna @openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations @lisha1valecha​ @oldminniemcg​ @iemcpbchoices​ @tsrookie​ @fayeswiftie​ @levinsdowneyy​ @brooks-eden​ @poudredevie​ @queencarb​ @caseyvalentineramsey​ @lucy-268​ @tenaciousdeputydreamfriend​ @alwaysmychoices-sideblog​ @whippedforethanfreakingramsey​ @schnitzelbutterfingers​ @the-pale-goddess​ @lem-20​ @wingedhairstylemusicweasel​ @liaromancewriter​ @ohchoices​ @archxxronrookie​

[susiequaz12]

Carrot Top 26- Self Betrayal

Here is part 26 of Andrew’s story, and Whumptober day 5. Carrot Boi’s masterlist is here, and his previous part is here. Prompt: Betrayal. This chapter is a bit long, it’s a little bit of a recap to all that happened, but still important to the story.

CW: bandages, unconscious whumpee, references to multiple past injuries, references to beatings, mentions of blood, possessive whumper, dehumanization.

- - -

Dr. Tusik and Justin had just finished bandaging up Andrew’s feet, when Ali and Mickie showed up into the room.

Mickie stood in the doorway, holding onto the door frame, while Ali cautiously approached the bed.

“How- how’s he doing?” She asked.

Tusik set down the roll of bandages in his hand.

“Better. Much better. We bandaged his back and his feet just fine and he’s getting an iv for some fluids right now.”

“He fell back sleep a few moments ago.” Justin added. “He’ll probably be fine, but he- he just seems so out of it-” There was a seeming hollowness to Justin’s face. A dissociation after seeing his injuries, or a mental block- to keep him from thinking about it all. He kept finding things to busy him as he spoke. Picking up a bandage and moving it around, putting random things away- “-It’s like he doesn’t know where he is, or what’s going on.”

“Justin is right.” Tusik nodded. “I’m afraid the bulk of his recovery is going to be mental. There’s only so many bandages and stitches we can use.”

Mickie stepped forward on shaky legs, her eyes not once moving off of her brother. 

“Actually- we, we had an idea about that. About how to help.”

“Go on.” Tusik stated. 

Mickie looked towards Ali as she began to explain.

“I’ve gone inside someone’s mind before. I can- sorta view their memories.” Justin came to stand near his girlfriend as she spoke, fiddling with her hands. “I don’t do it often because unless someone lets me, I have to force my way into their mind, and I- I don’t-” She breathed deeply. Justin reached down to squeeze her hand. “I don’t prefer to-But I could. With Andrew- for Andrew. I could go in his mind and be able to understand everything that happened.”

“Are you sure Vnuchka?” The Dr. set down the tool in his hand to face the girl. “You won’t overexert yourself? You’ve already done quite a bit of healing today.”

Ali returned the squeeze to Justin’s hand and nodded. 

“I- I can do it. I have to.”

Mickie nodded. “Think about it anyways- Howe was useless. He didn’t know what happened, he just patched Andrew up. If he- when he wakes up- like, fully wakes up- he’s probably not going to be the same immediately.” Mickie took a step closer to the bed and reached out her hand, but quickly pulled it back. “He might have- have triggers, or stuff that bothers him, that’ll send him back there you know? It’ll- it’ll be better if we can know what happened so that we can be careful and avoid hurting him even more.”

“You’re saying he- he might have, what? PTSD?” Justin asked.

“It’s a very real possibility, Justin.” Tusik stated. “It wouldn’t surprise me if he developed at least a bit of trauma from all that he’s been through.”

“It’ll be better for him in the long run if at least one of us knows what happened.” Ali stated. “I can do it- I’ve got the strength still.”

“Alright.” Tusik said. “Go ahead, dear.”

Ali glanced around. “I’ll need everyone to leave, please.” Reluctantly, and after some pestering, Mickie and Justin left the room. “Tusik? You too?”

The old doctor tried to protest but Ali gave him a stern look. She needed to be alone. He could leave his patient for a few moments.

“Thank you.”

“Careful vnuchka. I’ll be right outside.”

Ali nodded, and then sat on the edge of the bed. He looked so incredibly still. She glanced above his head to the wall where all his memories and keepsakes were kept. 

Posters from bands and musicals covered his walls, except for a section above the bed- that was plastered with millions of photos. Polaroids- paper cutouts, printed photos- the wall was covered with smiling faces of Ali, Justin, his mom- sisters, and everyone else he held dear. It was a menagerie of color and euphoria, plastered in a beautiful disarray. It was Andrew.

Ali took a closer look, and let her eyes linger on the memories. 

There was that photo he’d taken of her covered in popcorn during their first movie night. She had woken up with kernels still in her hair the next morning- they were in seventh grade. A couple pictures of him and his sisters lined the walls. One of them he had Mickie on his back, and was holding Erika in his arms. They were all smiling. 

And then there were those of all three of them. Him, Ali, and Justin. When Justin finally opened up to them and became more of a close friend during high school- That trip they took to the amusement park. Ali had a giant stuffed bear in her arms and a hat falling over her eyes, with a boy on either side of her, kissing her cheeks. The two of them had tried for hours competing to win her something from the carnival games. They finally decided to work together, and had stuffed themselves in a photo booth afterwards to document the event.

She wiped away a happy tear from the memory and pulled out her phone, a song coming to her mind.

It was one Andrew always sang. The notes resting easy in his voice, the melody fairly simple. He wasn’t an astounding singer, but he never sounded bad.

The first notes of the piano started echoing, the chords resonating around the room, and Ali breathed.

The moments when Ali had previously entered someone’s mind had been rare occasions. It had only been used in the past for interrogation, or during her training. Never for something this serious. 

The room was clear. The noise of the piano cutting through the eerie silence, and she wished that she had kept everyone else in the room- but she could focus better this way.

He was so still- lying there on top of his blankets. 

She tried not to look at him too much. She would be already seeing far more than she wanted to know.

She gently pulled herself up onto the bed next to him so they were laying side by side. Her mind instantly flashed to those nights in the summer in high school where they would lay like this and look at the stars. 

She reached over and gently grabbed his frail hand in hers. His fingers were limp and cold, but she held tight. She tilted her head to the side until it was brushing up against his, and closed her eyes, right as the singer began to echo the words to the song.

Here I am, Here I am. And the light, is dying.

Ali felt guilt.

She felt Andrew’s guilt. And he felt terrible. 

Ali would admit that he had said some hurtful things to her and Justin that night. But nothing felt worse than knowing they could’ve prevented what happened to him.

She could understand that he sincerely believed he had angered his friends, and that because of that, he deserved every single thing that happened to him.

That belief was prominent and clear throughout his whole captivity.

And then Ali felt dread. 

That sinking feeling in your gut as something terrible happens, as you get in trouble, or in a situation more terrible than you thought.

Ali felt that pit in her stomach as Andrew was grabbed out of the alleyway. As he was shoved down, restrained, knocked unconscious, and dragged to the man they all hated the most.

Where are you? Where are you? Will you answer me?

And then there was anger. 

As Andrew stood in front of that terrible man. 

Anger, as he was beaten with a rod, and humiliated. 

Ali watched, as Splice made him choose between his instruments of pain. She felt anger rise in herself as her friend was electrocuted. And then, as he was tied up and whipped. Even more, as Splice continued to utilize his library of torment, in just the first few hours of his arrival. 

She felt the pain in her shoulders and neck, as he was stretched, and tied down in a torturous position, and left there. 

She could feel in her chest as Andrew’s anger turned to confusion, which turned to fear, and then just the will to survive, and remember to breathe. But her anger remained.

That anger bubbled inside her like the blood that broke to the surface of his skin, bubbling, with every word that man spoke. Every touch, every glance, every weapon.

“I want to hear you beg.”

“You’re not that pathetic, are you?”

“You will listen, when I tell you to do something, understand?”

The anger grew inside of Ali as she felt, saw, and witnessed everything that happened to Andrew, but this was just the beginning.

All alone, in the quiet. And my ears, are thirsty.

For a brief spark, there was hope. 

She witnessed as Andrew met the young doctor, and felt just a little safer with him.

But then that hope was crushed. Again, and again.

Ali seemed like she was sitting in the room with Andrew, where he lie on the bed next to Howe. But she was floating, just observing everything, helpless, as she watched and witnessed. 

Splice approached Andrew where he lay, and she could feel the fear behind his eyes, but there was stubbornness etched onto his face.

She clenched her fists and bit into her cheeks as she tried to remain calm. She had to stay calm- or she would be forced out of Andrew’s mind. But it grew increasingly more difficult the more and more Splice taunted him. 

“I gave you a gift. You need to respond politely. Come on now, use your manners.”

Andrew was screaming.

“What do you say?”

There were tears down his face.

He submitted.

And Ali felt betrayal.

She felt Andrew’s betrayal as he had turned against himself, and his desire to stay strong. But he had betrayed the one thing he had told himself he wouldn’t do. He no longer felt strong.

For your voice- for your voice Can you answer me?

The next events Ali witnessed were crushing- literally.

Her fists shook as he remained defiant, refusing to break. As his head was slammed into the table, blood pouring down his face.

He was grabbed and dragged outside, tied down onto a table.

Her head reeled as she tried to maintain the connection- her anger was growing.

“I will make you apologize.”

“Screw you.”

Andrew couldn’t breathe. Ali could feel the panic rising in his chest as he tried to flow the air through his lungs. 

That panic lead to fear- which led to pain- which led to desperation.

And he betrayed himself once more.

If I try, maybe I can see your shadow In the sodium light that masquerades as moon If I try, I might take off like a sparrow And I'll travel along a guiding breeze

Three words echoed through his brain. It sounded like a megaphone, bouncing off of empty walls. The words reverberated through Ali’s mind. Each time they were repeated, she felt Andrew lose a little more of himself.

“I. Own. You.”

And the next words that repeated further solidified that in Andrew’s mind.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You.”

“What are you?”

“A tool. Used how you see fit.”

“Where, and when?”

“Here, and for forever.”

“And lastly, why?”

“Because I deserve it. Because I’m worthless.”

“That’s right. This is no longer your life- but mine.”

Very soon, very soon That's the sound of longing Are you there? Are you there? Will you answer me?

Ali was losing the connection. She had felt so angry and frustrated, and sad and disgusted, that she felt herself slipping from Andrew’s mind. The faint sound of a clarinet in the background echoed through the song, and she fought to keep the connection.

She could tell she was almost done- she just had to finish.

Andrew was collared, muzzled, beaten, bloody, and broken. 

He had betrayed himself, and fully gave in.

The pain became too much, the constant battle between himself, and that man. So he gave up. And Ali could see him slowly becoming everything that Splice wanted him to be, doing everything he was asked, taking every punishment, submitting to every command.

“You can be good right?”

Andrew was nodding.

He was obeying, he was following, and he was slowly decaying.

In my dreams, my beloved lies beside me When the sun lights the room, I find it's only me Only me when the sun is gone.

The memories rushed by faster now. She could tell they were getting closer to the present. 

Andrew was terrified. He was so scared, and in so much pain, and so exhausted, that when he finally saw his friends again, he didn’t recognize them.

Ali understood that he was so focused on avoiding pain, and being good, that he didn’t even comprehend his saving grace, as it stood before his eyes.

And then, when he was finally able to comprehend what happened, he was punished again. He was beaten bloody, he was branded, burned, scarred, and tortured. And he was led to believe that everyone he loved had died.

No wonder he had been so out of it, anytime he was awake for more than a moment he was confused. Or in disbelief or misunderstanding.

Because according to him, everyone was dead. 

And he probably thought that he was too.

Only me.  With the world all around me. When the sun and moon and stars are gone, what’s left is only you.

Ali had to fix this. 

Her entire body was shaking, she had never stayed inside someone’s mind for so long before. She clenched her fists, focused her breathing, and projected her thoughts, forcing the truth into Andrew’s mind.

She echoed words and phrases of love, of peace, of safety, over and over again, until they were shouting louder than his own megaphone of pain. Until she was sure he could hear her.

You belong to yourself.

You are Andrew. A friend, a brother, and you are worthy of love, and peace.

You are safe, at home. And we will always be with you.

Because you deserve it. You are worthy, and you are more than a tool to be used.

Because we love you.

Andrew- we love you!

Will you answer me? Answer me.

- - -

@imagination1reality0 @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @thehopelessopus @burtlederp @whump-me-all-night-long @yesthisiswhump

There’s the video of the song from this chapter. It’s called “Answer Me” from The Band’s Visit.

[asthmark]

❝ walk you home ❞ l.dh

synopsis → “it’s just a suggestion but you could maybe put your lips on mine?”

request → “hi ive reading your works and honestly thank u for being a blog that doesn’t write smut. i feel like there are so few blogs like so. all your works make my heart feel fluffy and warm 😊 i was wondering if i could request a fluffy prompt kinda based off the nct dream song: walk you home with haechan? you have full creative freedom ❤️ thank u”

word count → 1.6k

you didn’t walk home often but when you did it always proved to be a peaceful and serene experience. 

you take pleasure in the sound of the pavement beneath your feet as your legs carry you home and your hands hold on tightly to the straps of your backpack. the calm breeze blows some of your hair around and the sun’s rays shine down on you delightfully. 

you decide it can’t get much better than this.

but, of course, you can’t have anything nice. 

you realize this when you feel a pair of hands grasp your shoulders firmly resulting in you effectively jumping out of your skin with a loud shriek.

the culprit, none other than lee donghyuck, laughs as he watches you place your hands on your knees, trying to steady your racing heart. 

“not funny, donghyuck!” you punch his arm to express your frustration. “you almost gave me a heart attack, for christ’s sake!”

he holds up his hands in defense. “okay, okay. i’m sorry. i was messing around, i thought it’d be funny.” 

“oh right because sneaking up on a girl walking home alone and making her think she’s going to be kidnapped is just hilarious.”

“i really didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, genuinely. “i came here for a reason, i swear.”

you raise your brows, expectantly.

“i was just thinking i could maybe walk you home?” 

you observe the way he tugs gently at the string of his hoodie, almost as if he were nervous. but why would he be nervous in front of you? you were just his best friend’s little sister. 

“you want to walk with me?” 

he nods in confirmation. 

you play with your shirt collar, not entirely sure what to say. “that’s fine, i guess.” 

with that, you continue on your route not even waiting for donghyuck who jogs to catch up to you. despite your houses being only a couple blocks away from each other, you and donghyuck had never walked anywhere together. at least, in your high school years. 

when you were all much younger, him and your older brother mark would almost always walk to the bus stop together. your mother had you tag along with them and your tiny figure would often be seen trailing behind them, trying your best to keep up. 

as you grew up, many things begun changing. most notably, the way you felt about donghyuck. before, all you had seen him as was mark’s obnoxious friend who pestered you relentlessly. but you had finally realized how cute and charming he truly was. you started to enjoy the way he teased you as long as it meant you had his attention. it wasn’t long before mark noticed your change in attitude and connected the dots. it was easy to say he was displeased. first of all, having you follow donghyuck all the time like a shadow proved to be very irritating. second of all, his best friend and his little sister together was something he didn’t want to even think about. 

when he commented about your strange behavior to donghyuck, the boy had only said he didn’t mind it. in fact, he seemed to enjoy your little antics.  

mark realized had no other choice but to take matters into his own hands. so, he sat you down one evening to have a chat with you and he certainly had no problem lying straight to your face.

“donghyuck hates you,” he had said. 

you had stopped stroking your dolls hair to stare at him with eyes as big as saucers. “w-what?” 

“yeah. he told me. he thinks you’re super annoying.” 

and just like that, your little heart had been broken. you remember crying for hours that day and begging your mom to drive you to school so you wouldn’t have to face donghyuck in the mornings. mark even suggested that you avoid him at school too so that he wouldn’t find you anymore unpleasant than he already did. you obeyed and soon enough your trio had broken up.

ever since then, you had stayed in your own lane away from lee donghyuck who, according to your older brother, could not stand you. 

“so... what’s up with you? i feel like it’s been so long since we caught up.” 

you sigh, kicking at a pebble on the sidewalk. “i’m pretty okay.” 

he waits, expecting you to add on. he clears his throat awkwardly when he realizes you’re not going to. you had been so talkative during your childhood, what happened? “oh, that’s good.” 

for the sake of clearing the tension, you force yourself to ask him how he’s doing. “what about you?” 

his face brightens up. “i’m doing good! well, grade-wise no. actually, maybe? i have straight c’s which is technically passing but not super good, you know? but other than, i‘m not bad. i finally tried out for a basketball team. remember how when we were younger i always wanted to play but they told me i was too short?” 

“i remember a lot of things from when we were younger,” you mumble, bitterly. 

he continues, dismissing your comment. “yeah well, i finally grew! i’m actually three inches taller than the average male. isn’t that crazy?” 

you’re not entirely sure how to respond so that you just nod and try to give him the most sincere smile you can muster. “good for you.” 

“hey, didn’t you want to take art classes when we were kids? but your parents made you do ballet instead?” 

you hesitate as the memory registers in your brain. “yeah. i did, actually.” 

donghyuck chuckles. “you were so mad. and then you ended up not even taking it. i’m pretty sure it was because you threw a huge tantrum outside your house.” 

you titter at the embarrassing memory. “i totally forgot about that. you must have a crazy good memory.” 

he shrugs. “kind of. but i think my favorite one has to be when you tried sneaking out of your bedroom window but you fell and ended up with a fractured ankle.” 

your eyes dart to him. “oh my god, how do you know that? did mark tell you? because i swear if he did i’m gonna—”

“it wasn’t him.” 

“then who was it?” 

he suddenly becomes shy. “i, um, heard  you telling your friends about it.” 

“you were eavesdropping?” 

he fiddles with his earring, nervously. “i guess. but i swear it wasn’t to be creepy—”

“sounds pretty creepy to me, donghyuck.” 

he sighs in defeat. “i just wanted to hear your voice.”  

you stumble over nothing. “i’m sorry, what?” 

“you’re never around me anymore,” he says, sounding hurt. “i know you’re avoiding me. and i don’t know why. but i still try to be close to you without upsetting you. i try to meet your eyes when you pass by in the hallway, i try to go by your house as much as i can so i can catch a glimpse of you. but it never works.”  

ever since mark had told you how donghyuck felt about you, you swore to yourself you would stop caring about him. although, at this moment, you can’t help but feel slightly guilty. you try to come to your senses.  

“i thought i was annoying,” you mumble. 

he squints his eyes. “what? who said that?” 

you stop dead in your tracks. “you’re kidding right? you did! you said i was annoying and that you hated me.” 

he stares off into the distance, trying to concentrate. “i really don’t remember saying that to you.” 

“you didn’t. you told mark. mark told me. i never forgot it.” 

“okay, i definitely didn’t say anything like that to mark. the only thing i remember telling him was—“ he stops, abruptly. 

you press further. “what did you tell him, donghyuck?” 

“that i had a crush on you.” 

it takes you a moment to process the words that come out of his mouth. “are you messing with me?” 

he scowls. “no! it took a lot of guts, i remember being so nervous to tell him. i thought he would tell you for me but i guess he said the complete opposite.”  

strangely enough, you believe him. you decide to confess too. “well... i had a crush on you too.” 

now it’s his turn to be stunned into silence. “seriously?” 

“yes! i thought it was so obvious.”  

“i would have never known.” he runs a hand through his hair. “just imagine what would have happened if mark had told either of us how the other felt. why do you think he lied about all that stuff, anyway?”  

“knowing him, he couldn’t stand the thought of his little sister and best friend liking each other so he tried to keep us apart by lying and hoping we’d just forget about each other or something. what an idiot.” 

“jokes on him if he thinks i would forget you. we might’ve been like 12 but i was ready to commit.”

you chuckle. “and how about now? still willing to?” 

he smiles, pearly whites on display. “always.”

##bonus: 

you stop at the front steps of your house, turning to donghyuck and grinning from ear to ear. “well, thanks for walking with me. i’m glad we finally got things sorted out.” 

he nods. “i’ve missed you.” 

you bite your lip. “i’ve missed you, too.”

he ruffles your hair. “you’re still super adorable, by the way.” 

“and you’re still super—“ you run your fingers over the smooth skin of his cheeks before squeezing them. “annoying.”  

he pouts. “that was mean.” 

you place your hands on his shoulders. “sorry, cutie. i couldn’t help it.” 

“make it up to me?” 

“and how would i do that?” 

“it’s just a suggestion but you could maybe put your lips on mine?”

you smile, more than happy to follow through with his instructions. as you lean in, you feel your inner little girl get the best of you. your heart speeds up and you hold your clammy hands together tightly behind his head.

“what is going on here?!” 

you both jump back from each other to face mark standing in the doorway of your house. he wastes no time dashing down the stairs, coming straight for the brunette beside you.

“lee donghyuck, i’m going to strangle you!”

at hearing the pure anger in mark’s voice, donghyuck’s face drops. he presses a quick kiss to your lips. you don’t even have time to feel any form of surprise because before you can even register what was happening, he’s making a run for it with mark right behind him.

[misslynn99]

Epicenter: Chapter Two

Pro Hero! Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Link on AO3: Epicenter

Link to Chapter 1

Author: misslynn_99 (Me!)

The next morning, the café regulars buzzed around the TV monitors, excitedly chatting about the news. Official footage of the attack had finally been aired. Concrete flew everywhere as the villain lashed out against heroes, sending distraught civilians fleeing from the scene. The scene that every news station had on repeat, however, was that of several tons of concrete on a direct collision course for a young family, until Ground Zero put himself between the two. He squared back one shoulder to pulverize the rubble with a blast, and in that moment, his wild eyes were molten flames, the fine cascade of dust casting a hazy halo around his form.

It was such a harsh contrast to the villain swinging a pillar of concrete immediately after, colliding directly with the hero’s chest and sending him hurtling back against the harsh exterior of another building, slumping bonelessly on the ground.

“He saved them.” You whispered to yourself. Icy needles twisted in your chest. Eijirou had  trusted you to care for his closest friend at his most vulnerable. The café was much closer than any hospital to the scene, but your heart skipped a beat, fluttering in astonishment. “He could have died. It’s a wonder he didn’t.” Just how close had Ground Zero been to death’s door when he showed up here?

“Blasty is lucky he’s got a rad, manly partner like me.” Eijirou’s voice startled you, suddenly far too close to your ear.

“Hi!” You squeaked. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

“You think I’d let my best girl go un-thanked after saving my partner’s ass yesterday?” His arms swept you into a tight bear hug, twirling your feet off of the floor. Eijirou’s easy smile seemed to smooth over the awkward tension from the day before, as if it were no more than an insignificant blight of an otherwise sunny day.

“Quit harassing the woman, Shitty Hair. We’re here on business.”

“She likes it.” Eijirou had the gall to stick out his tongue. “Isn’t that right?”

“I, I don’t mind.” You couldn’t help but squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment, dropping your head forward, and you prayed that no one would notice. This crush was spiraling out of control, as the sturdy muscles that could shatter any obstacle and strong enough to lift cars supported you easily in his embrace.

“ ‘Don’t mind’ isn’t the same as ‘like’.” Ground Zero’s mouth turned even further downward into a scowl. Reluctantly, Eijirou set you down, and you felt cold at the absence of his touch. The tension settled again like a thick cloud, choking out whatever embers of affection you felt for the red haired hero.

“I didn’t mean to impose.” The red-head’s own face was dusted with faint pink, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

“It’s no problem.” You tried your best to smile kindly, wincing internally at the memory of his flinch. “Why don’t I get you both some coffee on the house? It’s the least I can do for everything you two do to protect the city.”

“One black coffee it is then!” Eijirou perked back up.

“So, I take it you’ll have the latte, extra heavy cream with two pumps caramel, two pumps cinnamon, and cinnamon-brown sugar mix dusted on top?”

Ground Zero’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t have to say that so loud.”

“No shame.” You chuckled despite yourself. “Plenty of people take their coffee sweet, too.”

“Don’t spare Blasty’s feelings!” Eijirou laughed. “Even Mr. ‘Nothing is spicy enough’ likes sweets on occasion.”

“You better shut your mouth!” Ground Zero snapped, his tone climbing with each word. Curiously, Eijirou kept laughing, and tapped at his own ear.

“Right, got it.” The blonde grumbled. “Too loud.”

“Here you go, boys.”

“I have a name, you know.” The blonde held the cup up, scowling. “I’m off work, damn it. You called Shitty hair by his name on the cup.”

“It’s not like you introduced yourself between eating shit against the building and going in for surgery.” Eijirou scoffed.

“And you did?”

“Kiri stayed with me while they gave me IV fluids.” You supplied bashfully. “And I wanted to know when you made it out okay.”

“Call me Bakugou then.” He made a strangled noise. “When I’m not in suit tearing shit up, I don’t wanna hear ‘Ground Zero’ from you, got it?

“Not your given name?” Eijirou seemed to take a savage joy in goading on the explosive hero. “That’s awful cold, Katsuki. She did save you from a hospital stay and a month off of hero work.”

“Or Katsuki, whatever.” If looks could kill, Eijirou would have dropped dead in his tracks. Bakugou’s eye twitched and small firework-pops crackled off of his palms, clenched into fists at his side.  You hoped that the café regulars were too enamored with the news and their own conversations to notice the sparks flying.

“I can call you Bakugou, if that’s what make you more comfortable. Wouldn’t want to get on your bad side.” You chuckled, carefully watching his expression for his reaction to the playful jab.

“Kacchan’s bark is worse than his bite, at least off of the battlefield.” A new voice drifted in from the door. The emerald curls, gelled up from his undercut, were unmistakable. “I’m afraid that we didn’t get introduced last night. I’m Deku, but you can call me Midoriya if you’d like.”

“Kacchan?” You grinned wickedly. “Isn’t that so cute!”

Bakugou bristled. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, you fucking nerd!” He whipped around to snarl at the green-haired hero that had just walked in. For someone who was effectively co-workers with the number one hero, Bakugou acted like he despised the man.

“Aw, pump the breaks Kacchan.” Midoriya scrunched his freckled nose in a wide grin. “I’m just here to say hello to the woman who saved your life last night. So, this is where Kiri has been getting your coffee from? It’s such a nice little café, I think I’ll have stop by more often.”

“Like hell you will! We found it first!” Bakugou growled, stepping between you and Deku, while Eijirou chimed in the background, “I think you mean that I found it first.”

“Boys, boys, you’re all very pretty.” You ducked around the pro hero’s side, attempting to soothe the bickering. “I have plenty of coffee to go around. “

“You’re not keeping her as your personal barista and healer, Kacchan.”

“What happened to keeping this on the down-low?” Bakugou suddenly stiffened, whispering harshly.

“I think someone is feeling a bit embarrassed.” Eijirou rolled his eyes.

“I got my shit rocked on national television, of fucking course I feel embarrassed.” The blonde snapped. “But for her safety, I thought we agreed to keep any rescue shit-talk out of the public eye.”

Wincing, you looked up at him. “I think they’re calling you saving that family the rescue of the year though. And lots of people have minor healing quirks.”

Whipping his head back and forth, he snagged the strings of your apron and tugged you behind the coffee bar, through the doorway into the kitchen.

“Wait!” The two other heroes followed suit, chasing you as Bakugou dragged you out of the public eye.

“You don’t have a ‘minor healing quirk.’ “ He scowled, placing a hand on each of your shoulders, hands trembling as if he were resisting the urge to shake you. You could feel the residual heat of his calloused palms, the threat of an explosion ghosting along your skin and sending shivers up your spine.

“You have a self-destructive healing quirk that has major potential to get you kidnapped. Do you know the League of Villains would do to get their hands on you? Or fuck it, the Hero Commission? They’d keep you caged up like some animal to fix up their toys as they broke so that they could be sent out scot-free again.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Midoriya and Eijirou recoil, especially as the blonde hero turned his ire towards them once again. “Is some kind of joke to you two? Kirishima, if you could take two minutes to keep it in your pants, and Deku, if you could be serious, we need to come up with a plan.”

“Yes, Kacchan.” Midoriya and Eijirou nodded.

“Where do you live?” His burning eyes narrowed in your direction once again.

Swallowing thickly, you met his gaze. “In the loft above the café.”

“Hmm. Who all knows about the full extent of your quirk?”

“Just my parents, and my best friend from middle school, who moved to the states while we were in college.”

“Maybe she should stay with one of us?” Midoriya offered. “Just to see if anyone’s decided to target her?”

Panic froze your feet to the floor. “I don’t think that’s necessary.” You laughed nervously, fiddling with the apron strings tied at your hip. “I mean, you’re all very nice, but I could never ask that of anyone. I’m up at 4 in the morning to get the café ready to open at five, and walking alone in the dark is not my forte.” Especially if I might as well have a big target painted on my forehead now.

“The League definitely keeps an eye on our flats. They might not have made the connection that she’s done anything yet, but moving her in would be a surefire way to draw their attention. Also, there’s no way the Commission would just ignore someone else hanging out all the time.” Eijirou argued. “I think it would be better to set up surveillance on the café and her loft, and maybe get her a panic button or something.”

“A panic button.” Bakugou snorted. “I don’t know if you’ve heard of it, but there are these novel things called ‘cellphones.’ “

“And if she can’t call?” Midoriya raised an eyebrow.

“Brave words for someone who dropped his location to Icy-Hot, with literally no context, in the middle of an alleyway, and he magically appeared anyways.”

Sighing and stepping between the two bickering men, Eijirou held his hand out expectantly. “Here, I’ll put our numbers in your phone. We should probably scope out your apartment later.”

“I close at five tonight.” You offered, passing your cell to him, contacts open. “I’ll probably be done cleaning up by six, but you’re free to drop by whenever you get the chance after that. All of this feels pretty crazy though. It’s not like I did anything out in the open.”

Turning on the full force of his overwhelming intensity, Bakugou rounded on you once again, having caught the tail of your conversation. “There’s a couple articles floating around. You’re in the pictures, being floated to the hospital, and some low life bloggers are wondering how I was fine so soon afterwards, when Recovery Girl was on the other side of the country for some other case.” Venom dripped from his words, as if this were your fault somehow.

“It’s not my fault that I helped you!” Anger leaked into your voice. You couldn’t believe that he had the audacityto blame you for this. “Don’t talk to me like it is. I couldn’t not do anything. It’s a wonder that hit didn’t do worse, and I am certainly not responsible for them taking me to the hospital with you.”

In frustration, you stormed out of the kitchen, straightening your apron and apologizing to the handful of customers who were waiting by the cash register. A friendly smile and a few discounted coffees later, they sat down at a booth. The heroes were still in your kitchen, and you felt your resolve to ignore them crumbling. “I did give Kiri and Bakugou free coffee earlier.” You mumbled to yourself, a mischievous idea taking root; Bakugou’s buttons were so easy to press.

Leaning around the corner, you poked your head back through the kitchen doorway. The heroes froze, their argument in low tones evaporating with your return. “Midoriya!” You grinned, drawing out the syllables playfully and deliberately ignoring the blonde hero’s angry stare. “How do you like your coffee? Sweet as you are?”

“Uh, umm” He stuttered and his eyes darted between you and the door. “With oat milk, white chocolate and toffee, and iced please.”

“Coming right up! On the house.” The sound of sparks dancing off of Bakugou’s palms eased your flare of anger, taking a little bit of satisfaction in riling up the blonde in return, and you set about making the drink.

The trio must have finally decided to drop their discussion, and shortly followed you out to wait by the coffee bar. Bakugo turned his back to you, eyeing the door and clutching his coffee  while Midoriya and Eijirou resigned themselves to facing you, their awkward expressions apologetic. The other café patrons were thankfully still transfixed by the TVs, oblivious to the situation at hand.

“Here’s your phone back.” Eijirou mumbled, setting your phone on the counter. “He doesn’t mean it. He’s just frustrated and annoyed, nothing against you personally. It’s just kinda how he is, ya know? He takes it out on everyone. He’s been this way since he was a teenager, but he doesn’t blame you. Promise.”

“Hmm. I suppose I can accept your apology on his behalf, just this once.” You whispered back, sliding a coffee cup to Midoriya, who sipped it gratefully.

“We’ll be back later. Come on, nerds.” Bakugo’s voice was gruff as he called over his shoulder. “We have a meeting and a patrol shift soon.”

The heroes left and an unease settled in your gut at their absence, acutely missing their larger than life presence. Even as the customers milled about, coming up for refills and pastries, their words weighed on your mind. Villains and Heroes had never been a major point of contention in your life; a quirk like yours wasn’t suited for the spotlight, and like thousands of others, accepted your fate as a civilian.

The coffee shop felt like a homage to another era, before quirks existed. The small planters bloomed in the window display under your mindful care, without any sparks of magic to enhance their color or growth. The coffee beans that arrived each week were roasted delicately by hand, and each new drink was born from trial and error; no surprising powers of charm or persuasion lured customers to your door. It was an honest life that you were proud of, built with hard work and love.

Ringing up another customer and brewing the earl grey tea for a London Fog, it felt like your head was ringing. Your quirk had never been an active threat to your well-being. You had gained some control over the years, having only been able to tend minor scratches and bruises as a child, but never showed enough promise to be recruited into the medical field as a young teen. Even now, the drawbacks were too great. Healing left you exhausted, and the more extensive the injury, the greater the fatigue.

It wasn’t like you came from a family of fantastic heroes either. Your mother worked as a doctor in a wound care and surgical center because she could clean infected tissue at the expense of the patient’s energy. Your father’s quirk was completely unrelated to your own, allowing him to sculpt metal by heating his hands, albeit without flames. It was hard to believe that the arguably worse version of your mother’s quirk made you a target, but the underlying assumptions behind it sent shivers of fear down your spine. If there was no regard for your well-being, your quirk could be indispensable, could be used to patch anyone up at the expense of draining you dry.

Nevertheless, the hours ticked by, dread worrying the pit of your stomach. Bile rose in the back of your throat the longer your anxious thoughts raced. Without the grace of someone with a more offensive quirk, there was little you could do to defend yourself.

Maybe Bakugou was right to be annoyed, but he didn’t have the right to be such an ass about it. Closing time was only half an hour away, and the customers had dwindled in the shop. The pleasant humming of customers faded, exposing every raw nerve that you had. The last person was out, and at 5:06,

... there was a knock.

Snapping to attention, you jerked towards the doors, feeling a strange mixture of relief and annoyance upon seeing Bakugou waiting by the door. Sighing, you called out, “It’s still unlocked.”

He didn’t enter though. He leaned partially against the window with one hand, the other shoved deep into the pocket of his white jeans. He had the hood up on his black and gold hoodie, but not enough to conceal his distinctive blonde hair and you could have sworn his red eyes could burn a hole through anything as he peered in the window. He must not have heard you, and you steeled your resolve to go and let him in.

“Shitty Hair sent me.” He grumbled.

“Hmm.” You hummed in response, wandering back behind the counter to tuck away the extra bottles of syrup and take down the pastry display. “Make yourself at home then.”

The hero looked even more uncomfortable, his shifting gaze never lingering on anything for too long, before he spotted the bottle of disinfectant. To your surprise, he started wiping off tables, but you don’t breath a word, afraid to break the uncanny silence.

At 5:45, Eijirou, Midoriya, and a woman you could only assume was Uravity knocked, and Bakugou dropped the supplies as if he had been burned. Midoriya was the first to heckle him, teasing “Kacchan, I didn’t know that you could be helpful!”

“I was bored, you damn nerd. That’s all.”

The heroes were almost unrecognizably causal. Uravity and Midoriya were in matching letterman jackets, sky blue and patterned with delicate pink cherry blossoms falling from slender black branches, with Shouto written across the back in a beautiful script. Eijirou was also devastatingly casual, wearing baggy, low-rise black jeans and a white v-neck that dipped dangerously below his collar bones. His long red hair was up in his trademark loose ponytail, spilling over his shoulders and down his back.

“So nice to see you again! I’m Uraraka.” Her smile glowed as she bounced forward to greet you. “It’s nice to really see the place that Kirishima and Bakugo talk so much about.”

A frown creased your features. “I think I would have remembered Bakugou coming in for coffee. Doesn’t Kiri just get his?” You mumbled, panicking as you realized it was out loud.

Thankfully, Uraraka giggled. “No, he just won’t let Kiri get coffee from anywhere else now. I think the whole agency knows his order by now.”

“It’s just the least shitty.” Bakugou growled. “But whatever. I have shit to do, so let’s get this over with.”

“Lead the way.” Midoriya smiled kindly.

The stairs to the flat were in the kitchen, the door tucked out of sight next to a supply closet. Butterflies fluttered in your chest, and a sudden self-consciousness that almost froze you in place. The apartment was an intimate insight into your life and personality. Your reading was on the living room table, and cherished photos hung on the walls. Is my laundry hanging up to dry? You winced at the thought.

“Welcome!” You forced a smile and led them to the kitchen table. “So, what do you need to check out?”

“We’re not trying to invade your privacy more than necessary.” Midoriya looked solemn, glancing at you shyly from underneath his lashes. “I was thinking we should put a camera right in the stairway that faces the entrance, another on the fire escape, and one on the outside of each of your windows. Then, we can just set up a bunch around the café.”

“Oh,” You relaxed into your seat. “That’s not as bad as I was expecting.”

Midoriya and Uraraka were  sitting ram-rod straight at your table, posture stiff and schooled. Eijirou was examining your end table in the living room, carefully turning your favorite candle in his hands, while Bakugou trailed behind like a sullen shadow.

“We just want to make sure you’re safe.” Uraraka reassured. “We’ll probably change the patrol route to make sure that we stop by here, but we won’t be in the shop every time. If nothing is weird, we’ll leave you be after a while.”

“I’m glad.” The remaining tension left your shoulders, and you let out a sigh of relief. “I really don’t want to put my life on pause. I’ve worked really hard for what I have here. “

“Of course!” Eijirou looked over his shoulder, now surveying the sliding glass door that led to the fire escape. “This is the best place in town, and I don’t think I’ll ever stay awake through another Commission meeting without my usual again. Plus, we owe you big time. It’s our fault that you’re starting to get some media attention.”

“Do the cameras need plug-ins or batteries?” You asked cautiously.

“Nah,  they’re the special surveillance ones Chargebolt rigged, and we’ll get a notification if the battery is less than 25%. We’ve just gotta get them set up. Uraraka can up to stick them, then make ‘em weightless so they don’t fall down.”

At Eijirou’s words, you could see Uraraka tapping her fingers, jumping up to stick the device to the ceiling. With a frown of concentration, she pulled out her phone, checking the feed and fiddling with the camera until it was angled to her satisfaction before drifting back to the floor.

“We can take it from here. Feel free to go back to closing, or what you usually do in the evening. Don’t be afraid to let us know if you need anything.” Midoriya nodded before excitedly leaning in closer, eyes sparkling with the enthusiasm of a little kid. “Also, at some point, can I study your quirk? I keep notebooks of all different quirks I encounter, and yours is so interesting.”

“Shut your trap, nerd!” Bakugou growled from behind Eijirou, who jumped and clutched his partner’s arm. “Stop acting like we’re at the damn zoo. Save it for later.”

“Am not, Kacchan!” Midoriya whined. Turning to you, he put up his hands in a peace gesture. “I think we better get going, though. I think today’s probably been quite the day for you. Uraraka will set those up outside, and we’ll be out of your hair.”

Snagging Bakugou’s sleeve, Midoriya pulled him unwillingly down the stairs, with Uraraka having already moved on to install the security cameras in the café. Despite his tough front, the blonde didn’t fight too much, only grimacing and batting away the other hero’s hand as they left.

“Hey Kiri,” You said nervously, before the hero had the chance to follow his teammates out of your apartment. “Thanks for having Bakugou come over to be there while I was closing. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what you guys said this morning. I just feel so uneasy, like every stranger could be dangerous and I can’t do anything to save myself. It really set my mind at ease to have someone else there.”

“I bet.” He winced with sympathy. “But I didn’t ship Bakugou out here. He volunteered, and you didn't hear that from me.”

[romanosgirl1978]

Taking Over Me I

A/N: I have no idea what this is lol. I was bored at work and this is what came of it. Thank you to @fan-grell-411 for beta reading it and @pascalslittlebrat for giving me a reason to continue writing it. Hope you like it my dear, and I promise things will happen in later chapters.

Max Phillips x Reader

Words:1121

Warnings: Talks of sex, Reader has a partner but no cheating

Summary- While at work you and your co-worker, Jennet get on the topic of sex. What happens when your boss, Max Phillips, overhears? (This will probably be changed later)

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

~~

"I am not telling you," you groan, hanging your head. "Come on. There's not one guy in the office you would let rail you?" Jennette asks, laughing. "Look I have Alex. I really don't see why I should have to answer that," you deflect, trying not to look at her. You already feel warm and desperately try to steer your mind away from the dreams that have plagued you for the past week. "So? It's just a what if type of question. No harm done and you know I wont tell anyone." She says and leans towards you. "You're not letting this go are you?" You ask, defeated. "Not a chance in hell," she smirks back. Rolling your shoulders, you start to turn your chair towards her and give her a random name. *Max walks in to check on the progress. Jennette behind right shoulder* "Good Morning ladies," he calls leaning against the side of your desk. Fuck "Morning Mr.Phillips," Jennette chirps, grinning. You give him a small smile and duck your head back to your computer. "And how are you looking on payroll, sweetheart?" He asks, turning his eyes to you. You clear your throat and ignore the smirk you feel burning against the side of your head from your reaction to him. "Almost done. Just waiting on confirmation for a few more things. It should be done before lunch. I'll email you before I send it through." Max grins and claps his hands. "Wonderful. But just feel free to drop the report by my office before you go to lunch." "Yes, Mr.Phillips," you nod. He tilts his head and gives you a wounded look, hands clutched over his heart. "Please ladies. Max. No need to be so formal." He winks before turning on his heel and walking out of the room. Silence falls over the small office for a few minutes as he walks away and you can only hope Jennette would drop it. Your hopes are soon crushed when she hits your shoulder with a small stack of papers repeatedly. "No. Fucking. Way." You groan and let your head drop to your desk. She laughs loud enough you're sure everyone in the building can hear and you turn to shush her. "Okay fine. Yes. I would let Max rail me," you hiss quietly, trying to shut her up. "But it's not gonna happen it's never gonna happen and you're not gonna tell anyone." "Okay okay," she says, raising her hands defensively. "I won't tell anyone else," she smirks. You massage your temples and turn back to your computer. This is gonna be a looonnggg day, you sigh to yourself. ~~ Lunch rolls around and you grab your purse and the files that Max had requested. You could do this. Just walk in, set the files on his desk and get out. One foot in front of the other. You knock on the door once and it swings open, so you peek your head around. Max waves you in, phone pressed against his ear. “Yes of course,” he says, eyes watching as you walk towards him. “Everything is being set up for the meeting as we speak.” You hold the files up and set them on the corner of his desk. He nods and smiles, mouthing a small thanks before you turn on your heel and walk back out, closing the door behind you. Letting out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding, you take the elevator down to the lobby to the small café down the block. ~~

"So how was your lunch with Max?" Jennette teases bumping your shoulder.

You roll your eyes. "Please. I just ran next door for a sandwich. Besides, he was on a phone call and, oh yeah, I'm taken," you snark before plopping down in your desk chair.

She rolls her eyes. "Someone's awfully defensive over a stupid question. What's going on?"

You groan and your head lolls to the side as you look at her. Sighing you dig the heel of your hands into your eyes. "It's nothing. Just haven't been sleeping very well."

"Dreaming about a certain boss?" She jokes.

When you don't immediately throw any kind of sass back at her, her eyes widen. "No way. How long?"

"All week."

Her jaw drops. "Are we talking about the kinda dreams I think we're talking about?"

You shake your head, a small whine in your voice when you answer. "Worse."

"What? How much worse?"

There's a reluctance in your eyes that she must pick up on.

"I just…. Is…. Like a full on wet dream?" She whispers.

"Can you not say that out loud," you commiserate. "I already feel bad enough, even though that only happened… like twice," you cringe.

"You can't always control your dreams," she tries to reassure.

"I know that. But I just want them to stop. They make me feel guilty when I wake up. Alex is so great."

She nods. "It's not like you're actually doing anything though. And it's not like you're planning to. You're not... planning to... are you?"

You groan and shake your head. "No. Of course not. That's not fair to Alex. I just want the dreams of Max to stop."

"Are you and Alex still doing it?" She asks bluntly.

"Every now and then yeah. Not as often."

"Do they still get you off?"

"Technically…" You drag.

"What do you mean?"

You sigh and just turn to face her, leaning over her desk. "They make me feel good. We both finish and it’s decent…" you start to chew on your lip.

"But?" She prompts.

"But it's almost the same thing every time. And those dreams," you whine, a shiver going down your spine at the mere thought. "It's just… something different, ya know?"

"No I don't. They're your twisted dreams, but I get what you mean… I think." She pauses for a minute and looks you over. "But out of curiosity, how good are the dreams?"

You gulp and your eyes dart to the door, making sure no one is passing by before turning back to her.

"It's rough," you almost moan. "Hands and teeth and just," your eyes roll into the back of your head. "It's hard and fast and absolutely brutal. If it were real it would probably put me in the hospital," you joke. "Hes such an ass but he looks like he knows how to fuck."

She nods at your last comment. "So what are you gonna do?"

You scoff. "I'm going to ignore it. There's nothing else I can do. Nothing would even come of it if I did. You see how he is."

"Fair enough," she shrugs before getting back to work.

[inky-duchess]

History Bites: Coolest Battles Part 1

In History Bites, I pick the best moments of history and the antics historical figures in order to give you inspiration for your WIP. Think of History Bites like prompts, only juicer and 90% accurate (results may vary).

So in this History Bites we explore battles which could act as great inspiration for your WIPs. All of these battles are steeped in drama and blood. Let your battles commence.

The Battle of Carrhae 53BC was brought forward by many driving factors no more so than the Roman Statesman Crassus. Crassus was part of the Triumvirate and the richest man in the world. Crassus felt rather at a loss compared to his allies Pompey and Caesar who were military geniuses and his famous victory over Spartacus had been years prior. Eager to show his power, he funded and led the invasion of Parthia, Rome's largest enemy in the east. Crassus entered Parthia unchallenged, increasing his confidence as he march forward. The Parthians were not far behind, appearing before the Romans with such speed that the Romans were taken unawares. Crassus's generals recommended they get into the usual formation (infantry at the centre with cavalry on the wings) but Crassus decided to have the men form a hollow square, twelve cohorts by twelve cohorts which would protect them from being out flanked. The Roman forces march forward to get better ground by a nearby stream, where the generals advised Crassus to wait until morning to attack but Crassus's son, Publius advised they attack then and there. The Parthians played mind games with the Romans, pounding drums to unnerve them and marched with their armour covered with cloth to lull the Romans into confidence... Before revealing the steel to Romans (perhaps the first wig reveal?). The Parthians sent their mounted archers to surround the Romans, which Crassus's calvary tried to defend against but failed to do. The Parthians smashed into the legionnaires firing at them. The Romans were lucky with their large square shields and top of the range armour but the arrows still found their marks though many wounds were non fatal. The Romans quickly tried to advance to combat the range of the archers in their famous turtle formation (shields surrounding them) but they were slowed by this and the Parthians charged, tearing them to pieces. The Romans panicked and broke leading to numerous casualties. Hoping to survive until the Parthians ran out of arrows, Crassus sent his son Publius to attack the Parthian mounted archers to give the legions more breathing space. But the Parthians faced him off and separated him from his father's army, slaughtering his men. Publius did the Roman thing and killed himself rather than be taken prisoner. Crassus did not know this and ordered an advance to save his son but on his arrival he was greeted with the head if Publius set on a spear. Filled with grief, Crassys ordered a retreat. The Romans stumbled into the minor village of Carrhae to rest but the Parthians were not far behind. The Romans left their 4000 wounded behind, leaving them to be slaughtered by the Parthians. In the darkness, cohorts began to go missing as the Parthians harried the Roman army as they retreated. In the morning, the Parthians had had enough fun and offered the Romans a truce. Crassus accepted though he did not wish to meet the Parthians face to face. Crassus gave in and met the Parthians who generously offered him a horse finely arrayed with gilded tack. Crassus wanted to refuse but in the nature of truce he agreed. The Parthians led him up and down their lines so the Parthians could see him defeated and broken. Then the slaughter began. Allegedly, the Parthians wanted to make a joke of Crassus's wealth and poured molted gold down his throat after his death. The remaining legions were captured or killed.

It's 1485 and now comes the final York vs Lancastrian showdown, the Battle of Bosworth . Richard III is King of England and Henry Tudor wants to take over. They meet at Bosworth to face off, the noble Stanley family the key of winning the battle. The Stanleys were two brothers who had a large force between them and often split them in the civil wars. This way, one brother would lose but the family lands are safe. Lord Stanley is close to Richard but also stepfather to Henry. He could go either way. Richard begins the battle by striking first. He takes Lord Stanley's son and sends a message saying that he will kill him unless all of the Stanley forces side with him. Stanley reminded the king that the son held was not his only son. Richard gave the order to execute his captive but his men argued that it would only waste time and the execution could wait. Henry sent word to his stepfather too wanting a clear answer on whether or not he would be joining him or not. He only received very vague answers. Henry would have to face Richard on his own. Henry had seen very little battles so he chose to let the battle-hardened Earl of Oxford take charge. Henry sat in the rear with his forces. Oxford chose to keep his men as a single unit rather than splitting them up in an effort to beat Richard's lines. No Tudor soldier was allowed to stray from their banners. This was a tactic to ensure that they would not be encircled and crushed. The Tudor army was split into tight groups that made up a single unit with their mounted soldiers on the wings. This would protect them from flanking.  Lord Stanley is watching from a ridge, taking neither side. The field is hampered by marsh land. The Tudor army is standing on this marsh when they begin to form up. Oxford commands that they move to better ground. The Tudor army was bombarded by the artillery on the York side while searching for firmer ground.  When the Tudor men escaped to the marshy ground, the York side led by Richard's faithful friend  Sir Robert Brackenbury advanced on them.  While hails of arrows peppered each side, the two sides clashed. Oxford's troops stood their ground while the enemy commanders Brackenbury and The Duke of Norfolk. Several notable men fell on the York side and they were forced to give ground. Richard saw this and decided to send in more men under the command of Northumberland. But Northumberland didn't move an inch. Some think this was an act of betrayal while others claim that the lay of the land prevented a charge. Richard decided to end the battle by killing Henry. Spying him amongst the rearguard of the Tudor lines, Richard led the charge on horseback. Riding with his closest companions, the king raced at the pretenders group of bodyguards aiming to wipe out the leader. Richard, though hampered by scoliosis, fought ably slewing the notable Sir William Brandon, the standard-bearer of Henry and John Cheyne, Richard's brother Edward IV's former standard-bearer.  Henry acted quickly. He dismounted from his horse, concealing himself among the footsoldiers about him. Henry chose not to engage Richard or his men in combat.  William Stanley's men charged down the ridge... to the aid of Henry. Richard's men were now surrounded on all sides and was pushed back from Henry and straight into the marshy part of the field. Richard, ahorse at this moment, was thrown from the saddle as his horse floundered. Now unhorsed and on foot, Richard gathered his remaining guards and slogged on onwards refusing to turn back "God forbid that I retreat one step. I will either win the battle as a king, or die as one."  Richard's loyal man Sir Percival was slain holding his king's banner aloft as he was killed laying legless on the ground. Dozens of Yorkists fell and soon the king was surrounded by Tudor men and slain. When his body was found in 2012, part of his skull was missing and it is generally agreed that Richard had died helmet less. Henry picked up Richard's crown from the mud and placed it on his head.

Battle of Bannockburn 1314. After William Wallace's demise in 1305, Scotland was still labouring under the yoke of the English. But by 1314, a new leader arose to battle for Scottish freedom: Robert the Bruce. Robert led the Scots to numerous guerilla victories over the far superior forces of the English. By 1314, the only outpost of English rule was Stirling Castle. Edward II, the newer and less effective King of England, decided he had best step in. He raised an army and march north to raise the siege on of Stirling Castle. Robert gathered own forces though considerably smaller to head off Edward's advance toward the castle. Around the area Robert chose, thick trees flanked the area which would drive any mounted English forces toward his own heavy infantry and into the trenches his men had dug. Edward sent in his cavalry but the Scottish infantry quickly met his charge holding off the English until reinforcements could arrive to scatter the cavalry. Another English unit charged at the Scottish centre. A young English Knight Henry de Bohun charged for Robert. The two met in the centre of the field, Bohun charged at Bruce with a lance while Robert was armed only with an axe. Robert had the smaller horse and moved his mount aside, countermanding the lance's reach. As Bohun passed him, Robert stood in his stirrups and split Bohun's head open. Robert was later pissed that the strike had broken his favourite axe. He remains the sexiest of all Scottish Kings. On that note, both armies withdrew for the night to fight on the morrow. The English crossed the eponymous stream of Bannockburn and in the night their Scottish ally Alexander Seton defected to Robert. The English panicked and feared attack, staying up all night in formation in the cold marshes. The next day, the Scots formed up on the field. Edward ordered his men to attack, his cavalry avoiding the trenches but they could not shatter the Scots lines. The English kept charging but they were repelled. Robert commanded his infantry forward, pushing the English backwards toward the trenches where multiple mounted soldiers fell in and were crushed. The Scots stopped to pray and Edward took this for a cry for mercy but one sassy English soldier is claimed to have said "For mercy but from God, not you. These men will conquer or die.". The Scottish soon swamped the English lines wherein the Knights around Edward II dragged him to safety. One of his braver Knights, Giles d'Argentan saw Edward to safety before refusing to flee and charged the Scottish, dying shorty after. The English were routed and Edward fled back to England, his army chased from Scotland by soldier and commoners alike.

The Battle of Marathon is perhaps one of the most famous battles in history. In 490 BC, the Ancient Greeks faced off against the Persian invasion led by Darius I. The Greeks were outnumbered and had a terrible track record facing the Persians so far. The Persians really wanted to beat the Greeks, there is even a legend of Darius charging a servant to remind him daily to destroy the Greeks (ancient Post-it's perhaps?). The Greeks were formed of an uneasy alliance of once enemies the Spartans and Athenians, who despite their hatred decided to band together and fight the invaders together. The Persian sailed into the Bay of Marathon which provoked the Athenians to match to Marathon to head them off. They successfully blocked off their exits and waited for the Spartans to join them but the Spartans were having a religious day and could not go. The Athenians had no choice but to shore up for battle, choosing a marshy, mountainous plateau to stop the Persians' cavalry from joining them. The Athenians opened with a missile-heavy move, ensuring their own centre made for a soft target which lured the Persians in only for them to be crushed by the flanks. The Athenians picked off the Persians as they fled back to their ships, shattering them to pieces leaving 6,000 Persians dead. The Athenians lost 200.

Battle of Gaugamela 480BC is probably one of Alexander the Great's finest masterpieces. Gaugamela was the last push of Alexander's strike toward Babylon, the heart of the Persian Empire... The same Persian Empire that supposedly ordered his father's death. Alexander arrived to battle at a disadvantage. The Persians were famed for their warrior chariots with bladed wheels which could mow down infantry, worse still the Persians had time to level and clear the battlefield which stopped any impediment against the wheels. They also had war elephants. The Persian King Darius had arranged his army in an iron scythe of cavalry, both flanks ahorse. Alexander had his army divided in two, himself riding with the cavalry on the right flank. The Macedonians advanced at an angle going the Persians would attack which they did. Darius sent a large cavalry to take out the left flank of Alexander's forces who were under the general Parmenion. While his infantry distracted the Persian in the centre, Alexander himself rode his cavalry all the way around to the furthest reaches of his flank on the right, drawing the Persian cavalry away to leave the Persians fractured. The chariots came at the right flank, the Persians hoping to decimate as many as they could in the wake of Alexander's absence. With clever utilisation of reserves, the Greeks held. Alexander gathered his rearguard and a portion of his phalanxs into a wedge, driving it at the centre of the Persian forces which were weakened by the scattering of their forces. Darius fled the battle in the wake of this, ceding Babylon and his empire to Alexander. Darius was later murdered by his own men for the defeat.

The Battle of Hastings. Its 1066 people and this time, the English are getting invaded. The irony. William the Conqueror has been cheated out of the throne of England by his cousin Edward the Confessor who had promised the throne to him years prior. In 1066, William and his Normans are on their way to claim what they believe is theirs. But before the land, the new King Harrold Godwinson has a little Norse problem. King Harald Hardrada, a Norse claimant to the throne has already invaded in the North. The two Harrolds/Harralds meet at Stamford Bridge ready for a showdown. English Harrold rode up Norse King Harald and basically read him to his face before riding off. The battle begun moments later, the two armies funnelling into the narrow pass of the eponymous bridge. The chronicles say that a Norse axeman singlehandedly held off the English advance, only defeated when an English soldier stabbed him with a spear from below. With the axeman's sacrifice, the Norse had enough time to form a shieldwall to face the English who stormed across the bridge to attack. The Norse had a great disadvantage: they had left their armour on their ships. Despite their enthusiasm and early advantage, they were mown down. Harrald Hardrada was killed by an arrow through the throat. Wear your armour children. English King Harrold has won but he cannot rest, the Normans are on their way. Harrold matches his army South and three weeks later they meet the Normans at Hastings. Harrold had luck surprising one invader and he tried to do the same with William. But the Normans had scouts and were informed of their movements, and were ready. The English lines held strong against the Norman attacks but the Normans pretended to run away so the English would break and persue them, the Normans turning on them and picking them off. King Harold was shot in the eye by an arrow (because karma is a bitch), which was the last straw for the English resistance. William the Conqueror was crowned King of England.

The Battle of Mortimer's Cross is perhaps the most fantastical battle on this list. It's 1461 and young Edward of March is fatherless and at the head of a small army. Months before his father made a bid for the throne of England and failed, his head cut off by order of Queen Margaret who now sought the destruction of Edward's family. Edward was 18 and at a distinct disadvantage. The Queen led an army of Scots and rival Lancastrians. Edward no doubt wished to take the battle to her and avenge his father but he made a stragetic move south into Wales to head off her support there led by Jasper Tudor. They met on the field of Mortimer's Cross, where in the sky three suns had risen with the dawn- a symbol of Edward's House of York and the same number as many sons were left to the family: Edward and his two brothers. Edward and Jasper both split their forces in the traditional way- the vanguard, the centre, and rear each of which would face each other in turn. Jasper was a seasoned commander and lead his men to attack the Yorkist right but the Yorks had hidden archers there to take them out, leading to mass casualties. Jasper's attack was dispersed and now the centres of the armies clashed. Edward like Jasper fought with his men in the thick of it. The Lancastrians charged but were turned away under but the battle was still undecided, each side never ceding an inch of ground. The Yorkists began to cut through the Lancastrians, the rearguarf blanking the nearby river to box them in. Jasper's father Owen Tudor (Wales's greatest love machine) tried to manoeuvre the Yorkists into following him to distract them but it didn't work leading to a retreat, many Lancastrians drowning in the river on their haste and meeting Yorkist reserves on the next bank who cut them down. Jasper Tudor had no choice but to flee leaving victory in the hands of Edward who as was his habit spared any Lancastrian soldier he captured to give them the chance to follow him. Many did.