#everyone is worried sick about him and he just rolls up like nothing happened with his wife and absolutely nothing is wrong nope sirree

[cowboysandpilots]

Secrets of a 30-Year-Old Flyboy — ch. 3

Fake Roonix, Secret Hangster | Words: 780 | Warnings: Blood, medical stuff, sickness, miscommunications, and boys being stupid.

"They said he had a dangerously high fever, and his appendix burst. That's all I got before they rushed him into surgery." Tears had gathered in the blue eyes behind glasses but he was trying to hold them back, keeping up appearances. Bradley had looked so similar to after the accident, blood on his face and unconscious.

Stepping closer, Mav wrapped his arm around Ice’s waist and leaned into his side. He held him tightly. Mav knew what Ice was remembering. “It’s not like that this time,” he murmured to him. “Appendixes happen all the time. It’s routine surgery.” Maverick didn’t voice that he was worried about the fact that Bradley had been in the air. He’d been sustaining G-force pressures with a bad appendix. What kind of damage did that do? He knew it was normal for the average person, but this wasn’t normal. Because, of course, nothing had to be normal about Bradley.

Phoenix shooed the squadron to take seats. She focused on them to give her something to do while being sick with worry. The least she could do was make everyone give Bradley’s Godfathers some privacy. She felt awful because she had teased Bradley in the locker room instead of asking how he was doing. She’d seen that he didn’t feel good.

While everyone else took a seat, Jake hadn’t been able to do so. He stood off to the side, with his back pressed against the wall. He couldn’t stop the fine tremors that were running through him or the waves of dizziness. "It's not like last time." Ice repeats with a nod, exactly like Bradley would do when he was trying to convince himself of something. A mannerism that he must've picked up from the other man.

"What happened last time?" Bob asks, clearly listening and not reading the room.

Phoenix tried to shush Bob, flapping a hand in his face. “Not now, dude,” she hissed. She knew a little bit about the accident, just a few things Bradley had said or that she figured out.

Maverick turned his glower to Bob. All of his sour attitude from earlier returned full force and once again focused on the entire squadron. “There was an accident,” he said, voice clipped. “Now keep your noses to yourself about it.”

"Sorry," Bob says softly, immediately backing down and looking away like a little kid getting scolded by their father.

It's about 5 minutes later when they're all sitting in the waiting room. A nurse makes his way to Ice and pulls him off to the side. "Sir, your son came in with these on around his neck. We had to remove them for the surgery and want to make sure they're kept safe." She explains, handing two sets of dog tags to the admiral.

Accepting both sets of dog tags, Ice frowned and looked down at them in his hand. He rolled them until he could see the stamped text. Bradley’s and…Seresin’s? He frowned as he turned his attention back to the nurse. “Thank you,” he said, glancing down at the tags again. “He was wearing both sets?” Ice can’t help but ask, not understanding what was going on with this at all. It was bad enough that Bradley was in surgery. He couldn’t focus on much beyond his worry.

"Yes, sir. They were both around his neck when he came in." She places a gentle hand on his arm. "I'll be back to give you updates on the surgery when I have them."

Nodding, Ice looks back down at the tags in his hand before he steps away. “Thank you,” he says again before he returns to Maverick’s side. Sitting heavily in the chair next to his husband, Iceman stares at the tags in his hand for a moment longer before he shifts and slides them into his pocket. He glances at where Hangman is leaning against a wall on the opposite side of the room before he turns his attention back to Maverick. “No update yet,” he said with a heavy sigh. “She just wanted to give me his tags, for safekeeping. And Seresin’s as well. Bradley was wearing them.”

Maverick turns and blinks at his husband. "I'm sorry... what did you just say?" He frowns.

“You heard me,” Ice said dryly as he leaned back in his chair and took Maverick’s hand in his own. There was a fine tremor in Ice’s hands that he was trying to hide from everyone else. “He was also wearing Hangman’s dog tags.”

Maverick is absolutely stunned, speechless. "But he... they..." He clears his throat a little. "Are you sure they're not Phoenix's dog tags?" He asks quietly.

——

I wanted to make this one longer but I forgot about Tumblrs stupid text limit. 😭 Thanks for reading! 💕 Donate to my food fund if you want. 🥰

[anonymouscreampuff]

if you don't think they can still work, that honestly sounds like a you problem

[kaicubus]

Show, Not Tell | Xavier T.

warnings ✩° : semi-nsfw, jealousy, slight possessive behavior, cursing, xavier being protective, hickeys//markings, manhandling, mentions of size difference, non canon character named marlon flirting with you.

pairing ✩° : boyfriend!xavier thorpe x girlfriend!reader

premise ✩° : xavier isn't jealous, not for the most part at least. until he sees how you talk with your classmate and his sparring partner, marlon. did you always smile like that with everyone or was it just marlon? doesn't matter. xavier’s pissed.

word count ✩° : 2.9k

authors note ✩° : guys i am sick. i cannot breathe. i miss the taste of food.

What was it about Marlon Acheron that made it so easy for you to talk to him? Was it the fact he was more popular than Xavier? Or was it his piercing red eyes, shaded with the dark lenses of sunglasses that intrigued you? Maybe it was the hair that was slicked back with a glossy finish from his stupid cinnamon scented hair gel. Or maybe it was all those things combined.

But Xavier is your boyfriend. Not Marlon. He knew his place in your heart, so why was it that every time his eyes scanned the room to find you, Marlon just so happened to catch you first and steal you away from him? Did you always smile like that with everybody or was it just Marlon? Didn’t matter. Xavier’s pissed.

At first, you thought you encouraged him to push though practice and were beyond happy to see him progressing so well. Even his instructor agreed he’s been on top of his practice and would soon topple Bianca for first place in rank. That was until you realized who his sparring partner was.

Marlon Acheron.

Marlon’s your classmate, not necessarily friend nor foe, and certainly not a guy you could call up and spend a few hours with at the Weathervane like any other of your friends. He was just there most of the time, in class and in the halls. But you did notice that he would give you some sort of special treatment.

Marlon’s your classmate, not necessarily friend nor foe, and certainly not a guy you could call up and spend a few hours with at the Weathervane like any other of your friends. He was just there most of the time, in class and in the halls. But you did notice that he would give you some sort of special treatment.

Whether it was saying hi to you first when you entered the training room, striking up some hollow conversation just to stall you from going to see your boyfriend, or accidentally ‘forgetting’ something that he’d ask you to retrieve for him. It was always his glasses so you found it strange that he could forget something so important nearly every other day.

Being the sweetheart you are, you thought there was nothing wrong with how he was acting. Plus, you forget things all the time so it’s not so different with him.

But Xavier is the complete opposite. He knows exactly what Marlon’s intentions are, they're all so obvious to him.

“No one forgets their glasses like he does. Especially not a vampire.” Xavier says when the two of you are alone after his fencing practice, “He asks you to get his shit every day. Can’t he ask someone else, like why does it HAVE to be you?”

“I forget things too, Xavier. I’m sure he’s just got better things to worry about like trying to actually get a chance to beat you when you two go at it. It’s not like they're prescription anyways, he said his eye sight is fine.”

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes and goes back to etching charcoal onto the canvas in front of him. Recently, he’d come to his secret shed with you so you both can have alone time and so that he can draw. He’d never tell you but another reason for these ‘dates,’ as he called them, were partially because of Marlon.

“He doesn't leave you alone, Y/n. It’s like he’s stuck to you like a stupid dog. It doesn’t even make sense because he’s a VAMPIRE.” Xavier exhales sharply, blowing some excess black dust off his work space, “It’s past the point where friends do that. Not even I did that before we got together, which is saying a lot because I was way more obsessed with you before.”

You lean back on the extra stool next to his chair and give him a nonchalant shrug, “Yeah, you’re right. But what’s your deal with him? Why are you so mad whenever we talk to him or when you’re sparring with him during fencing practice? It’s like you’re trying to kill him out there, you could at least give him a break.”

“Give him a break?” Xavier scoffs and turns to face you, “He slacks off every time we practice and when he finally thinks it’s time to actually practice, you walk in like some angel through the doors and suddenly all of his attention is on you.”

You stare at him for a moment, taking a mental note of his tight lipped frown and a glimpse of irritation in his shaking legs, “What do I have to do with any of that? I come to watch you. Your instructor said I should keep coming because you do best when I’m there, so I can’t just stop showing up.”

“Oh come on.” His brows fall flat on his face as he moves his head down just a bit, expressing his disappointment, “Y/n, the guy’s head over heels in love with you. You don’t see anything wrong with the way he acts?” Xavier stabs the end of the pencil back to the paper and aggressively whisks his hand over the art, smudging the side of his hand black.

"I guess it’s weird, but it’s not like he’s outwardly flirting with me. You know? Like I said, he’s probably just forgetful. Extremely...forgetful.” Even you can’t excuse Marlon’s behavior. Your attempt, however, only sours Xavier’s mouth as he shrivels his expression in disgust. 

Xavier sticks out his chin, unintentionally showing off his cutting edge jaw to the side, and groans, “Maybe you should stop talking to him. Just ignore him when you come visit. Y/n I am this close to bashing his brains out if he keeps on doing this shit,” he holds up two fingers that are just about to touch, “It pisses me off how he always steals you before I can even say hi. Next thing I know he’s basically on top of you, asking you all these stupid questions like, ‘Y/n what do you think of my uniform?’ ‘Y/n can you feel my helmet to make sure its on right?’ ‘Y/n say épée.’ It’s sad, actually.”

You let out a much needed sigh and slouch down, “I don’t want to stop talking to him, he’s nice. But yeah, I wish there was a way to get him to stop or to show him I’m not interested.”

He thinks for a moment, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek, while moving his leg in one place. “I guess...no...” He lets out a quick breath, “What would make Marlon leave you the fuck alone...”

“You know, I’m picking up some jealousy...”

Xavier shoots you a glare, “Yeah, right.” but then suddenly raises his brows, “I think have an idea.”

You watch as he puts up his pencil, postponing his continuation of his sketch, and prop himself up more on the seat. Confused, you massage the side of your neck and glance attentively at his change in posture.

“Sit here.” Xavier grins, tapping his legs, inviting you to take a seat, “If Marlon’s going to act like you don’t have a boyfriend, I’ll just show him who you belong to and why he can’t ever have you."

Body moving on it’s own, you make your way towards him and plant yourself directly on top of his waist, grounding yourself by shifting side to side to find the perfect balance.

“And how are you going to do that?” You’re almost scared to ask, but the look on his face suggests something you don't even expect before it comes out of his own mouth.

“We have to show him you’re mine, not tell him. He won’t get it otherwise.” Xavier looks at you with sly eyes, teeth poking just barley from his lips, “I’m just saying, people like him don’t catch hints too easily. So it’ll be a sort of, slap in the face when he sees his perfect Y/n with hickeys all over her neck and down.”

You quickly open your mouth in surprise, “Oh that’s what we’re doing? I kinda thought you were going to brand me or something.”

“I mean...” Xavier looks to the side and chuckles deeply, “Nah, I’m joking. I do however want to do the whole hickey thing. I think that way he’d get it.” He holds up a finger and touches the front of your neck with the end of his nail, sending shivers all throughout your body as he turns his head to get a full view of his new canvas. “Yeah,” Your boyfriend wets his lips with the tip of his tongue, “That’d work really good actually.”

When you scoot yourself further onto him, you can feel the both of his palms barley cushion the underside of your thighs as a small grin pulls the corner of your lips up. “Really?” You tease, “You sure this has nothing to do with you being jealous?”

“Oh yeah, positive.” Xavier jostles his knee beneath you to scoot you even closer, “You think I’d be threatened by Marlon Acheron of all people? I’m offended, babe.”

You give a small laugh before gently holding the sides of his face and caressing the back of his head, combing your fingers lightly through his long hair, “Yeah? Well you should be. I’m surprised you haven't told him off yet.”

“You see how I spar with him,” Xavier moves his head to the side and kisses your collarbone, “I want to kill him for it, but I figured you wouldn't like that all too much.”

You roll your head to the side, granting him full access to your skin, and smile, “Hard to believe when all you've been doing is just carelessl-ly, trying to cut him.”

As you talked, Xavier wasn't too focused on the words coming out of your mouth. He knew all you were doing was trying to irritate him more so that he could handle you more roughly, but he had a little more class than that. Or so he thought. Truth is, he is better than no man when it comes to you.

Before he knows it, tasting the softness and sweetness of your skin quickly becomes an addiction he isn't quite ready to quit. Everything taste from warm notes of light amber to the freshness of a freshly picked rose, he can’t get nearly as much as he wants from a surface level skin kiss.

So he kisses harder. Licking and sucking down your neck, grazing the tips of his teeth and sharp canines along you as well.

“Wait, X-Xavier—” You groan just barely audible and tug on his locks with an even tighter hold than before.

Too focused on you, he doesn't respond and just continues to thrust his tongue over the gradually building bruises. Even though at this point you begin to move away from him in an attempt to stop him from darkening the marks beyond repair, he pulls you right back into place and moves onto another spot of vulnerable, untainted skin.

“H-Hah...X-Xavier...” A satisfactory moan as well as his name escapes from your throat so you bite your lip to suppress it as best as possible.

There was no thought of sparing you from weird stares you were sure to get from classmates, Xavier just imagined what Marlon would say or what he’d look like if he saw you, his seemingly perfect Y/n with marks made by his sparring partner. Xavier grinned at the thought.

As you manage, unsuccessfully, to keep your back straight and hands from roaming his body, it becomes hard to ignore the fluttery feeling building low in your stomach. His hand placement just over your hips, the way his neediness has somehow manifested it’s way into his mouth, and his panting complete with your own are all telltale signs that if this goes on for longer, you both wouldn’t last.

His tongue rolls harshly over the side of your neck, generously saturating your thin and sensitive skin under his suctioned lips with his saliva. You can’t help but squirm in his tight embrace, his fingers digging so hard into your hips you're convinced that they'll leave a mark as well, trying to hold you down on one place on his thigh.

“Stay still.” You can feel him grunt against your skin, “I’m not done yet.” Though his tone is demanding, you can feel the effects of his desperation ricocheting against his teeth. Or rather, his tongue, judging by his heavy breathing and increasingly deeper and longer licks he does.

“H-How many more?” The question comes out in a fleeting pant, trying to catch your breath, “How much are you going to d-do?” It was already impossible to stay put, you don't know how much more you can take if he keeps it up at this pace.

“Enough so Marlon can lay off.” With that, Xavier roughly squeezes your waist and lifts you up enough so that you're higher up on his thigh now, both your legs locked in between his own kneecaps. For a brief moment, you're met with the chill breeze of the airy shed hitting your wet skin, but it doesn't last long as Xavier pushes himself right back to his original position, earning himself a surprised gasp from you.

With his lips properly latched onto your jugular, he continues at an even deeper force and runs the tip of his tongue back over the already sensitive areas he’d previously marked. His extra bit of attention sends your mind spiraling. Of course, hes not fair either and only applies a bit of pressure from just the tip of his tongue.

“Xavi-ier...don’t make them so dark...” You gasp out, “I still have classes to go to, remember?”

“So?” His breath fans against your damp skin, “What if I want everyone to see?” He bites harder and laps up the remainder your scent off of you, messily bruising you more so that blooms of his intimacy can be seen miles away.

Your face flushes, “A-Are you almost done?”

“Almost.”

When he finally plucks his mouth from your neck, making a quick ‘pop’ sound before wiping his sleeve over his darkened lips, he pulls away and just stares. Just by looking at him, you can tell he’s proud of his work. Not the actual work he was supposed to finish, but the dark splotches of red and purple that littered all from the start of your jaw, down to just above the start of your chest. They're like trophies to him.

Most of all, he’s proud of just how worked up he somehow managed to get you. Just by the sight of you, your heavily blushed face, glossy and squinted eyes, and parted lips due to excessive hard breathing made him want to mark you more, in other places. But the ones on your neck would have to suffice, even if hidden ones only he could see would excite him more than the ones he could show off to some insignificant person.

Before you could even utter a breath of relief, a smirk slowly appears on your boyfriends face, only making you more nervous, “That should do it,” Xavier says, “How do you feel?”

“Like my entire neck is purple.” You laugh, pushing up the hair that had fallen over his face.

He chuckles, shaking his head, “Unfortunately, it’s not. But I can do that if that’s what you want?”

You grab his face again and mash your lips together with his, “Nice thought, Xavier, but I think this is plenty.”

He hugs you tighter, “Whatever you say. We should uh, we should go show him, shouldn’t we?” 

You grin, “Maybe later, I still have to tell you what Marlon said to me yesterday.”

Walking into the next practice of the fencing team, you strut down the well lit hall with your neck not nearly hidden as you’d hoped. Since everyone knew you were bound to show up sooner or later, no one really paid any mind to you walking in. Thankfully.

But Marlon and Xavier did.

When you look past Marlon and straight at Xavier, you can feel his eyes on you. This time, they weren't on your face or on your skirt like usual, instead they were plastered onto your neck and all of the hickeys that had remained just as dark as Xavier made them to be yesterday.

You can hear a small scoff from behind you, so you turn around and see Marlon standing, waiting for you to have some sort of explanation for the mockery of his affection.

“Y/n.” He holds his helmet between his arm and lodged against his hip, “Good to see you.”

Xavier watches as you walk up to Marlon, this time feeling more confident than ever. “Hey Marlon,” You smile, as per usual, “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Question, did you get beaten up by someone?” Marlon points at your neck.

“Oh no, no my boyfriend kinda...” Your voice trails slowly, searching for the much needed reaction for both you and Xavier, “...yeah...”

Marlon nods slowly, tucking his lips under each other and furrowing his brow, “Right. I just thought you know, you getting my glasses all the time and us having a ton of inside jokes, that we had something.” The vampire spits, “I guess not.”

“You know it’s really funny you say that, Marlon, because actually,” Suddenly, Xavier appears next to you and throws his arm over your shoulders, “We are most definitely a ‘thing’. Didn’t know if that really clicked in your head but,” Xavier points to his head, “We are.”

[gatitties]

Hello I love your writing! I had an idea of a scenario that would be the teenager (13 years old) reader ends up connecting with something and ends up having a seizure (like Kiri in Avatar 2) and all of the crew are worried it could do with the Straw Hats, Whitebeard's crew, Shanks and Law please!

—Strawhats, Whitebeard Pirates, Shanks & Law x teen!reader (platonic)

—Summary: you have a strange blackout, despite not feeling anything wrong with you, your friends care about you

—Warnings: none

You swing the shopping bags so they wouldn't hit your legs again, trying to catch up with Sanji who was a few steps ahead of you. You had offered to help him with errands and here you were carrying more bags than you should have because there was no way you were going to make more than one trip to carry everything.

You felt your fingers go numb for a few seconds, your vision blurred and you fainted out of nowhere, the sound of your body hitting the ground alarmed the blonde. He let everything he was carrying fall to the ground to attend to you immediately, panicking when he saw that you only trembled and didn't react to his voice.

He carefully carried you running towards the ship, it was so loud that he woke Zoro up, though he didn't start a fight because he heard Sanji's desperate voice calling for Chopper.

"I need help over here!"

Everyone got anxious at the cook's explanation as they waited for Chopper to come out of the room where he was checking that everything was okay.

Nami and Robin had interrupted their coffee and gossip session, Luffy was pounding on the door impatiently while Jinbe was trying to push him away, Franky, Usopp and Brook diverted their slight concern with small talk.

You didn't wake up until a few hours later, pacing the deck as if nothing had happened.

"Stop right now!"

You fell backwards, Luffy's arms wrapping around your body.

"Uff- Luffy, you're crushing me."

"What the hell are you doing!?"

Nami hit him immediately making him let go, Usopp helped you up, patting you on the shoulder.

"What's happening? You look at me as if I had grown a third eye."

"You do not remeber anything? That could be troublesome! what should I do!?" the poor reindeer began to murmur "Rest! You need to rest, one day at least."

"But I don't feel sick."

"Doctor's orders, you have to comply."

Zoro gave you a little push with a sly smile, you rolled your eyes.

"You're not the best person to talk about it..."

You were running after Ace because he had stolen your food, until your body felt weak and you fell to the ground. Ace laughed thinking that you had stumbled because it wasn't the first time you've stumbled while trying to catch up. However he became concerned when you didn't react, picking you up when he got close to do one of your 'surprise attacks'.

"Come on, get up, it's not funny..."

His hands began to sweat when he saw that your body began to convulse, he held you in his arms to keep you firm and not hit yourself.

"Shit, shit, shit… Marco!? Where is Marco!?"

Several of the guys that were out there started looking for the doctor, luckily he was on the ship, although Whitebeard was out since you just arrived a few hours ago.

"What happened-yoi?"

Marco started to ask what had happened while Ace answered him, the blonde doing a quick check, he didn't find anything unusual so he let you rest while he went to report to Whitebeard. In that short time Izo stayed by your side to watch if you woke up or not since Ace needed to calm down, he wouldn't help being tense.

You woke up a while later, Izo smiled at you as he offered you a glass of water.

"I don't notice any discomfort, maybe it was a heat stroke?"

You swore and swore that you didn't feel any pain or discomfort when Marco came to ask, even though your vital signs were stable, Whitebeard didn't let you leave the ship for a couple of days or at least be accompanied in case it happen again.

"I can't risk someone young not receiving proper medical treatment, your health is more important than that of an old man like me."

You nodded at your father's words, despite the fact that you respect him a lot, you were still a teenager and you will probably end up running away, you need a little privacy and nothing has happened to you again, you would be fine on your own sometimes.

You went looking for Shanks because you should disembark now, but knowing him he would surely be drinking in the town bar, you actually found him there.

"I invite one more round! come on kid, you can order whatever you want, as long as it's non-alcoholic."

"I don't want anything, the ship is going to set sail without you, again..."

"Oh come on, come on, don't worry so much and enjoy the night!"

You sighed, shaking your head, there was no point, you had already tried to take him back, if he didn't want to it wasn't your problem, after all he is a Yonko and he knows how to take care of himself. You decided to get out of there, however, before you could go out the door, your body vanished from one moment to the next. Your body hit the ground at the same time as Shanks's beer mug, he ran towards you trying to make you react, his screams cut through the jovial atmosphere in just seconds, the customers being intimidated by the redhead's intense gaze.

"I need a doctor, someone get a doctor!"

The urgency in his voice, his posture, his gaze... no one could just ignore his presence and keep drinking, some people even fainted from the power in his voice, a brave little man ventured to your side, his palms sweating as he was inspecting you before Shanks's eyes.

It didn't take long for you to come to, confused by the situation, despite clarifying that you felt fine, besides the fact that the doctor didn't find anything serious at first sight, it was enough for your captain.

"We'll go immediately to find the best doctor in the whole world, don't worry."

"Maybe you're exaggerating a bit... there are a lot of people who faint from some discomfort, and I don't feel bad right now"

"No, you need to go to the doctor a couple more times to make sure it's not due to a disease."

"Okay, can I at least walk on my own?"

"No."

He held your body like you were a bag, you sighed looking up at the starry sky, hoping you wouldn't be treated like glass because of a little accident, you were in the crew of a yonko for a reason, despite being young you were strong enough.

It was quite late when both of you were playing cards, Law's bad habits got mixed up with yours, even though he always scolded you because you were still too young to mess up your sleep schedule, you just ignored him.

"I won again!"

"I'm sure you're cheating."

"Of course not, who do you take me for?"

You laughed at Law's scowl, moving the cards you had hidden, he dealt again, you looked at your cards, planning your next play, though before you could put the card on the table a big puncture to your head caused you to pass out, Law put his hand between the table and your head so you wouldn't hit it.

Immediately laying you on the floor, checking your breathing and pulse instantly, clicking his tongue as he saw you have little convulsions, he put you in a better position so you wouldn't hurt yourself with your little spasms, waiting for them to subside. He used his power to check you out as quickly as possible, getting frustrated that he couldn't find anything that was causing your current situation. He decided that for now it was better to let you rest since you had stopped moving.

You woke up the next day, verifying on your own that you had no discomfort, since you did not feel any pain or discomfort, you simply got up from the patient's bed. You were very hungry so you went to have breakfast with the others. No one was alarmed because no one knew what happened to you last night so they were surprised when they saw you disappear, in your seat a pen instead of you, they shrugged their shoulders thinking that Law was going to scold you for one of your pranks.

"No one has given you permission to get out of bed, I still need to check that it's nothing serious."

"I don't feel bad, maybe it was tiredness."

"I'm not sure, that's why I need you to stay in bed and not make too much physical effort."

"But-"

"No buts, now, did you feel something strange yesterday?"

"Now that you mention it..."

You lay on the bed, answering all the questions your captain asked you, you knew you had nowhere to run when he went all 'father' and doctor, ignoring him would only make the situation worse, so you hoped it was just a little accident and not worse, but you would have Law on top of you every day to take your medicine if you had to.

[thebearchives]

paper-thin walls | m.s.

PAIR. neighbour!mick schumacher x single mother!reader

SUMM. noisy neighbours was the last thing mick was expecting after the long f1 season. he's tired, he's stressed, and believe it or not, he's ready to give his neighbour a piece of his damn mind.

WC. 5.6k

NOTES. first fic of 2023, everyone cheer!! i'm trying out new styles of writing, so please lmk how you found this fic.

WARNINGS include excessive use of the word 'fuck' (i'm sorry), and...shirtless mick? as always, don't be a ghost reader!

rest and relaxation, mick. that’s what toto had told him before he waved him off at the airport. we need you in prime shape for the next season.

mick tossed in his bed, migraine prickling the back of his head as another screech came from the wall beside him. 

look like you haven’t slept in months, mate. george had thrown an arm over his shoulder, cheeky smile playing on his lips as he brought a finger up to poke the obvious bags under mick’s eye. look alive, mick. it’s only gonna get worse from here.

it wasn’t official yet, but soon, news would drop about lewis’ retirement and mick’s subsequent promotion to the empty mercedes seat. he supposed that george was right. the season had only just ended and yet already, his shared calendar was filling up faster and faster with events, testing sessions, and appearances for the new season.

i’ll tell you this now. get all the sleep you can get this break. lewis rolled his shoulders back, stretching his neck side-to-side. the now eighth-time champion yawned loudly, muttering about how he was glad to be escaping the early mornings of simulator practice that happened closer to the start and end of the off season. 

mick couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his lips. it was strange, really, how quickly the idea of sleep had turned from attainable to something as out-of-reach as his seat on the grid had been the year prior. except, only his fight for his seat came with much less crying and screaming from his next door neighbour.

now listen, mick didn’t hate kids, alright. in fact, his older sister had brought a wonderful little boy into the world some years ago, and mick didn’t like to brag, but he was certain he was his nephew’s favourite uncle;

( “you’re also his only uncle, mick.” gina rolled her eyes as she watched mick toss her son up in the air. 

mick waved her off, laughing along with his nephew. “i’m still his favourite, aren’t i, jonah?” 

he had directed the second half of his sentence to the boy in his arms who, when addressed, nodded rapidly and smiled at his mom with his crooked teeth. 

“yeah, mama! uncle mickie is the best uncle in the whoooooole world!” )

so, yeah, it was fair to say mick liked kids. but when that kid is crying her little lungs out at 2:53 in the morning for the third night in a row? yeah, that’s when he draws a line. 

a beat passed before another set of pitiful whines reverberated from the wall. mick pulled the pillow out from under him, and stuffed it over his head instead, hoping to drown out the sounds. 

his first order of business as a mercedes amg driver? move the fuck out. 

your eyes were red, beady with unshed tears as the figurative hammers slammed against your head. 

amelia was sick— had been for the past three days now. you had been trying to soothe her cries for the past hour, but to no avail. your heart broke to see your little angel’s face contort in pain as her whole body ached. 

it’s a simple cold. your pediatrician had told you such with a small smile. she was holding on to a red lollipop that she reached over and handed to amelia. the two-year-old had reluctantly reached out and grabbed it before rushing back against your side. her forehead was burning up as you pushed her bangs away from her face, face visibly worried. it’s viral, hon. the seasons are changing. nothing to worry about.

you had a sneaking suspicion that the lady from the fourth floor with the hacking cough had been the one to infect your little girl. if only the elevator doors had closed on her that day.

( you pressed the ‘door close’ button repeatedly, willing it to close before anne from the fourth floor would reach the elevator. 

amelia giggled with each press of the button. “i wanna try! i wanna try! mommy, please can i try?” she had stood on her tippy-toes, teetering over and grabbing onto your dress as support. 

you smiled, hand leaving the button to instead ruffle her hair. “it’s all yours, little lady. have at it.”

amelia reached over and pushed her finger against the ‘door open’ button. you held in a groan as the door jerked in the opposite direction. you tutted lightly, pushing amelia’s finger to the next button over. “wrong button, baby.”

amelia ‘ohh’ed,  finger pushing against the button one again, but it was too late.

you watched as anne rushed to the elevator door with a rejuvenated fervor, wanting so badly for the doors to close right before she got on. you prayed to schindler elevators that the doors would close on her.

schindler elevators inc. was unfortunately not a god, and thus, anne got on.

“good afternoon, dear.” anne sniffled out, turning to look at the little girl in front of you. “thank you for waiting, dearie.”

amelia smiled, “you’re welcome! what floor?” 

anne coughed loudly. you tried to hide your grimace. “fourth, please.”

the doors finally closed and amelia tugged on your dress once again. you smiled at her hopeless face, reaching up to press the fourth floor button. 

anne had coughed and sneezed a few more times before she nasally said goodbye and got off on her floor. )

anne was a sweet lady, you wouldn’t deny it. but at this moment in time, you couldn’t help but curse her with all the malicious intent you could muster. you were tired. amelia was tired. and yet, nothing you were doing seemed to lull the girl into a state of slumber.

faintly, you could feel the guilt creeping up on you. the walls of your apartment complex were thin— you’d learned that the hard way. you were aware of how amelia’s cries were probably making their way into your neighbour’ houses and into the hallway, but quite frankly, you couldn’t even pretend to give a shit while you pulled amelia into your arms and took her on a little walk around your apartment. 

her loud cries slowly turned into sniffles and low whines as you rocked her around your house, showing her all the framed pictures hung around your house. one of her hands found its way to your hair, twirling some strands while the other stayed nestled between your bodies. your shirts had come off long ago— skin-to-skin was always a great comfort for amelia, and you could tell that the material of her sleeves and your t-shirt was overstimulating her greatly. 

even dressed in just a diaper, amelia’s arm, and subsequently, the rest of her body, was burning up from the fever she was running. you had a feeling that the medicine you had given her before her scheduled bedtime was wearing off, but amelia had refused to drink her milk and you were reluctant to give her another dose on an empty stomach. 

you hated to rouse her once she had finally quieted down but after being a mother for two years, you quickly learned that too much empathy could lead to your downfall. amelia needed to take her medicine now so that she wouldn’t have another meltdown in an hour’s time, and if that came at the expense of her crying just a bit more, it’d have to do.

you hesitantly pulled amelia away from your skin, hushing her lightly as she started to resist and whine. “i know, i know. i’m sorry, baby. i know it hurts.” 

you made your way to the kitchen. you talked amelia through every step, hoping to keep her distracted long enough to pull out an applesauce cup from the pantry. “we’re gonna eat some food and then give you your medicine so your body stops hurting. okay, baby?” 

amelia shivered lightly as your hand grazed over her stomach. she watched with wet eyes as you grabbed a spoon and attempted to open the cup— it was quite hard, doing everything with one hand.

“can mommy put you down?” you stopped and looked down at amelia, who frowned before slowly shaking her head and leaning into your chest again. “you wanna sit in my lap?” amelia nodded, a shuddered breath escaping her as she let herself calm down.

you worked quickly, sitting down with a tired baby in your lap and peeling open the cup. you fed amelia with slow bites, hoping she kept her food down this time. after she finished about half the cup, she started to fuss, pushing her face into your arm to avoid eating anymore. you were too tired to care about the fact that she had rubbed applesauce all over your bare arm. 

you decided against giving her the next dose of medicine until she stopped being fussy— if there was anything amelia had seemed to hate more than being sick, it was taking her medicine. the one she had been prescribed was grape flavoured, and it was by far the worst flavour of medicine you had the disgrace of stumbling across. you pitied your daughter. truly, you did, but you wanted her to get better, and if this grape-flavoured syrup was the only way to nurse her back to health, you’d do whatever it takes to get her to drink it. 

amelia was now sitting on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket as her clammy skin made her feel cold. she watched you with narrowed eyes as you manoeuvred around the kitchen to find her medicine and her sippy cup filled with water. although you had tried your hardest to hide the bottle from her, amelia recognized the purple bottle instantly, shaking her head furiously and whining out a no, mommy.

you sighed, not wanting to experience the third meltdown of the night. half heartedly, you wished for her to just stop crying and go to sleep, entirely too exhausted by caring for a sick child while running on a combined two hours of sleep. 

you couldn’t help but mentally scold yourself; god, you were such a bad mother. here your daughter was— sick and in need of your comfort— and instead of comforting her, you’re frustrated with her tears and couldn’t stand to hear another cry. you were just so tired. yet, you had no right to complain— you knew being a single mother would have been hard, but you still went through with it. 

you took a deep breath in, trying to stop yourself from spiralling. 

you carried amelia in your womb for nine months alone. you had gave birth alone. you had spent the last three years raising amelia on your own, and god damn it, a sickness would not make you question your worth as a mother. not over your dead body.

“alright, mimi.” you crouched in front of where amelia had been sitting, a weak smile on your face to try and coax her into drinking her medicine. “you’ve gotta drink your medicine if you want to feel better, okay?— no, don’t give me that look. mommy doesn’t want to give you this either, but you have to drink it or else you’ll continue hurting all night.”

the young girl sniffled, eyes already watering again. “but it’s yucky!”

you placed the sippy cup on the ground beside you, reaching up to caress her cheek lightly. “it is, but it helps you feel less icky and achy, okay?”

amelia stared at the bottle in your hand, a frown clear on her face. you wished she hadn’t taken up your stubbornness. 

“we can do this the easy way, or the hard way, amelia.” you gave her a slightly stern look.

amelia shook her head before pushing it back and into the cushion of the couch. 

hard way, it is.

you leave me no choice, amelia. you placed the plastic feeding syringe filled with 5 mL of the purple medicine, and reached out to hold onto amelia. you sat down in her spot, holding the girl down by her arms as she started to yell and flail her limbs. after she realized her arms were being held, she began to kick her feet, trying to roll out of your arms. 

your grip didn’t loosen, leaning forward to grab the syringe once again. you held the syringe near her mouth, and amelia immediately started to scream louder, yells turning into sobs. again, very faintly, you worried about the noise and your neighbours, but you pushed forward. 

you placed the syringe against the inside of her cheek, releasing some of the medicine. amelia stopped crying for a slight second to swallow before going back to her loud cries. the migraine from earlier returned as you repeated your actions twice more before tossing the empty syringe to the table and pulling the girl up in your lap.

amelia gagged loudly, and you couldn’t stop the loud no, no, no! no throwing up from escaping your lips. you grabbed her sippy cup before helping her wash down the medicine. god, children were so dramatic.

amelia, whose hands were now free, pushed the sippy cup away after a few sips. her lips were downturned into a big pout, and her eyes were glassy. her breath shuddered, still recovering from her outburst from seconds ago. you cooed gently, pushing her hair away from her forehead and eyes. 

“see, that wasn’t so bad now, was it?” you imagined that if she knew how, amelia would respond to you with a death glare. 

you pulled the girl closer to you, hand on her hair, smoothing it down as she placed her wet cheek against your sternum. you whispered quiet compliments to your baby as she started to calm down, hand coming back up to grab your hair and tangle her fingers into it.

it was quiet— no sounds aside from your whispers of i love you’s and amelia’s heavy breathing (her nose had stuffed up not too long ago). it had stayed quiet for maybe twenty seconds, until the silence was broken by a rather aggressive knock on your door.

amelia startled, and your heart dropped.  fuck.

mick wasn’t sure when he finally dozed off. the little girl from the other side of his wall had finally quieted down, and he could faintly hear another woman’s voice coaxing her to calm down. 

when he came to again, it had of course been due to another meltdown from the girl. he’d startled awake, pillow falling from his face and onto the floor beside him. his heart rate was erratic, and it took him a few seconds to get a bearing of his surroundings. when the next cry resonated through his room, he couldn’t help the loud groan from escaping past his lips.

mick sat up in his bed, suddenly feeling a strong wave of rage crash over him. it was late, and he was tired. it was past 3 am now, and mick schumacher had had enough.

the last few days had been stressful, to say the least. mick was going to be an official driver on the grid next season, for mercedes, and as excited as he was, he was also nervous— extremely nervous. yes, it was off season, but everyone knew that off season meant preparing for the next season. there really weren’t any “days off” in formula one, not really— if it wasn’t driving, it was sim work, and if it wasn’t the sim, it was working out to keep those muscles in shape.

frankly, mick had mentally exhausted himself by worrying for his next season in formula one, and with the lack of sleep, the man was nearing insanity.

he could feel the frustration, the exhaustion, and all his anxieties start to build up; start to consume him. he let them consume him. 

as if on autopilot, mick got out of his bed, walking out of his bedroom and directly towards his front door. another loud cry came from across the wall, this one louder from all the rest. 

if mick had been in his right mind, he wouldn’t have opened the door and rapped his knuckles against his neighbour’s door rather aggressively. but alas, mick had finally exploded, and who better to release his frustrations on than his next-door neighbours who couldn’t shut the fuck up at 3 am on a wednesday night. 

the second he registered his hand on the painted black door, he paled. fuck. mick felt like he was slapped in the face— what the fuck was he thinking? what the fuck could he possibly do? yell at whoever opened the door? tell them to shut their baby up? fuck. fuck.

mick held his breath, pulling his hand back. should i run for it? his eyes flitted from the door in front of him to his own. a beat passed, the door didn’t open, but he could still hear whining and muffled murmurs. it was louder now that he was out in the hallway— his walls had been thin, but perhaps the ones that lined the sides of the hallway were thinner. maybe they didn’t hear me.

before he could decide between standing his (now, remorseful) ground, or turn tail and hurry back home and sleep with his shitty “noise-cancelling” headphones on, the door opened. his head jerked up at the sound, eyes raking over your figure as he worked up the nerve to look you in the eyes.

you were a sight to behold, dressed in a plain black sports bra and loose, plaid pajama pants that coincidentally mirrored the colours of mercedes. the quick ponytail you had thrown your hair into some hours prior was now a ghost of what it should have been— most of your hair slipping out and splaying over your shoulders. the tangled ends could only have been caused by the young girl held in your arms. she was covered up more than you were, but from where the blanket fell off her shoulder and exposed her arm, mick could tell she was just as bare, if not more. (skin-to-skin, he’d realize some hours later as he laid on the couch and stared at the ceiling, this time wide awake on his own accord.)

your eyes, mick quickly learned, told stories clearer than even the most renowned storytellers. they were droopy and bloodshot with the lack of sleep. mick could read the exhaustion through them from miles away. aside from that, they were also bleary— as if you were seconds away from bursting into tears yourself. the girl in your arms sniffled, dragging his attention away once more as he scanned his eyes over her rosy red cheeks and irritated nose. oh.

a rogue wave of guilt crashed over mick, almost drowning him in the process. in his blind rage, mick hadn’t even considered what could have possibly led the girl in your arms to cry. it seems that the lack of sleep had killed his brain cells— rid him of all common sense and critical thinking. she was sick. 

the air was rather quiet around you three— aside from the little girl’s sniffling and heavy breaths, silence filled the air. mick mulled over what he should say. 

the girl in your arms shivered and you shifted her closer. another second of silence passed and you decided to take the reins of the conversation. “hi, are you here about the noise?”

mick could do nothing but nod, still feeling regretful for having knocked in the first place. his lips turned upwards into a sheepish smile, hand ruffling his already messy hair.

“listen, i’m really sorry. my daughter hasn’t been feeling the best for the past few nights, and i went around to let the rest of the hall know…” you trailed off, cocking your eyebrow as you asked him a question. “i don’t think i saw you around?”

mick stuttered. “uh, yup. yeah. sorry, i was out of town for the past few weeks and only just got back,” he gestured to the door to the right of your own. “ i live next door.”

you winced. “ah, that means you’re on the opposite side of my bedroom. i’m sorry, really. amelia rarely gets sick but when she does, she’s quite the force to be reckoned with…the noise should go down now, hopefully. her medicine wore off, and she’s just gotten a new dose. let’s both hope she sleeps like a baby, yeah?”

the light chuckle that escaped your lips made mick’s heart warm. the sheepish smile turned into a shy one. “yeah, of course. i’ll let you guys go to bed, then,” he gestured his head to amelia, who had somewhat fallen asleep against your shoulder, a line of drool dripping from her open mouth. “sorry for bothering you guys this late at night.”

you lightly shook your head. “i should be saying that to you. i’ll try my very hardest to make sure you’re able to catch up on sleep now!”

mick smiled and wished you a good night, turning back towards his door. you slowly let the door shut, the whirring and clicking noise signifying that it had automatically locked.

mick yawned as he reached his door. his hand fumbled to find the doorknob, eyes bleary with sleep. he pushed the doorknob down. it didn’t move. huh?

he tried again, and again, and one more time. each time the doorknob didn’t budge. mick became frantic, and for the second time in the past five minutes, he found himself thinking— fuck.

mick had boasted about the new upgrades for his apartment building for months to anyone who listened. how could he have possibly forgotten that his front door automatically locked? that he could only get in if he had his keys or if someone was inside? (“well, what if you get locked out? what then?” “don’t be stupid, gina. i’m not an idiot, i’d never do such a thing.”)

who’s the idiot now? mick groaned, hands pulling at his hair as he crouched down. he felt like crying. he was so fucking tired. now that it was finally quiet, now that amelia had finally stopped crying, mick was locked out of his house with no way back in. what a fucking night. 

mick stared at the tiled floor under him, gnawing on his lip as he thought of his options. it was 4 in the morning, not a single person would be awake and working at the front desk. he couldn’t call anybody— his phone was inside, plugged into the wall to charge after two days of use. even if he had it on him, the only people who had copies of the key were his mom, his sister, and hank, the man who worked the front desk— no one that would be awake, nor close enough to come up and unlock his door for him. 

his eyes flickered back to your front door, shaking his head before the thought could even fully form. he was not going to bother you again, especially not now. mick leaned his head back against his locked door, accepting his fate and slouching onto the tile. the metal of the door was cool against his bare skin causing a shiver to run down his spine. 

time was going by extremely slow, or at least it felt like it was for mick. his knees were now up to his chest, trying to find some reprieve from the cold air that breezed through the hallway’s air conditioning. he wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting like that, or when his eyes had finally shut until he was roused by the sound of your door opening. he raised his head, making eye contact with you for the second time that night. you looked mostly the same as before— tired eyes and unruly hair— the only difference now was that you had traded your sports bra in for a white shirt and a cardigan.

you cocked your head lightly. “oh? what are you doing out here?”

your voice was quiet, soft. mick felt his cheeks heat up, the embarrassment returning. 

his smile was sheepish. “i forgot my keys.”

your expression shifted, a round ‘oh’ shape forming on your lips as you nodded. before you could respond however,  your eyes widened and you immediately stepped back into your apartment, leaving mick all alone in the hallway. again. mick blinked, unable to comprehend what just happened.

you returned back outside with a soundtrack of quiet jingling. you brandished the keys in your hand to the boy sitting in front of his door. “almost just made the same mistake.”

mick nodded, an airy laugh escaping his lips. “i don’t suppose amelia knows how to open doors yet?”

you shook your head, “with those new child-safe knob covers? god, i hope not.”

the air became quiet, neither of you speaking many words. mick found himself wishing the silence would swallow him whole. he caved.

“so what—”

“would yo—”

mick flinched, instantly backtracking. “sorry, you go first.”

“no, no. it’s okay, you can go first.”

“no, really. it’s okay, it wasn’t very important, anyway.” mick pushed himself off of the ground, now coming up to stand against his door instead. “please, say whatever you wanted to.”

you pursed your lips, staring at his figure before sighing. “alright,” you nodded, “i was just going to offer if you’d like to crash on my sofa? it’s awfully cold out here, and you’re…”

mick glanced down at his bare chest at your gesture, cheeks flaming hot enough to drown out the cold breeze of the air conditioner. he crossed his arms, trying to cover up his chest, though you had already seen everything he had on show. 

he shook his head, adamant on not inconveniencing you further. “no, that’s alright. i’m here because of my forgetfulness, i can deal with it.”

you couldn’t help but copy his movement. “your forgetfulness came from the fact that amelia, and by extension, myself, kept you up most of the night because of how loud we were. if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

mick went to argue but you cut him off. “really, it all comes back to me, so let me help you.”

the german boy was silent, mulling over his options in his head. 

“it’s a pull-out.” 

his eyes met yours again. “you’re sure?”

“yes, of course.” you nodded excessively. “i was just about to go down to the laundry room–” mick’s brows furrowed, and it was your turn to smile sheepishly now. “— i forgot to grab the last load of laundry earlier because of how cranky ‘melia was being. if you don’t mind waiting for another 5 minutes, i can quickly go grab the load and let you settle in for the night?”

mick nodded, hand coming up to scratch at the base of his neck. “no, of course. take your time. i’ll be here…s’not like i’d be able to go anywhere, anyway.”

you smiled at his words, eyes brighter than they had been the first time you two spoke. “great!”

you pulled the cardigan closer to your chest, walking down the hallway as fast as you could without bursting into a full sprint. had you really just done that? had you really just invited a stranger you had briefly acquainted with not mere minutes ago to spend the night in your apartment? yes. 

you pushed the down button on the elevator. and then again, willing it to get to your floor faster. fuck, your mind was going crazy with the what ifs. 

what if he was a creep? you haven’t seen him around since before tonight. ‘out of town’ he says. for what? what if he was a serial killer? that would make sense. he’d fled the town to not look suspicious, and now he’s back for his next victims. yes, that was it. (in the future, mick would listen to your retellings of this story with a look of disbelief. “you thought i was going to kill you!?” “of course, i did! i didn’t know you!” “you offered that i stay the night!” “well, i don’t always make good decisions now, do i?”)

the elevator ride was rather short, and uneventful— no anne from the fourth floor to pull you from your thoughts with a hacking cough. you chewed on your lips as you mulled over the man you had left upstairs. 

the laundry room was quiet and dark. of course, it was expected for four in the morning— not everyone was as disorganized as you were. you rushed your way around the familiar room, grabbing the basket you had left behind and unloading your dryer. you had to work quickly to get back before amelia realized the warmth next to her was simply your heated blanket and not you. you also had to get back to him.

by the final fitted sheet pulled from the dryer, you had made up your mind. there was just no way that your next-door neighbour. he seemed nice— too nice, a voice rang in your head. you shook your head, ridding yourself of the negative thoughts. everything will be just fine. 

he was right where you left him— albeit, now returned to his slumped over position against his door. your footsteps were quiet, yet still managed to rouse him back to reality. 

you sent him a sheepish smile. “i didn’t take too long, did i?”

“not at all.” he shook his head. “you’re fine.”

a hum escaped your mouth followed by the nod of your head. you reached into your cardigan’s pocket to pull out the keys, unlocking the door quietly and pushing it in with your hip. you held the door open and gestured for him to come in.

his hesitance was obvious and in your head, you cheered. definitely not a serial killer. 

“an open door usually means you can enter, you know?” you gave him a soft smile. he returned it, though it looked slightly more like a grimace.

“are…” he started, arms crossing over once again, feeling bare under your gaze. “are you sure? really, it’s no problem for me to stay the night out here. hank will probably be in the office in another hour or two. ‘s not a problem, i’ll just wait for him to get here and i’ll get into my apartment. plus, amelia’s only just fallen asleep, and i’d hate to m—”

“oh, will you just get in here already?” you couldn’t help but reach out, lightly grabbing his arm before tugging him in. you guided the door shut with your foot, making sure it wasn’t too loud before turning around to look at the man in front of you.

his eyes were wide, flickering from your face to your hand, which was still wrapped around his arm. you followed his gaze, your own eyes widening as you quickly dropped your hand. your hand felt like it was on fire— his arm was cold, icy from the air conditioning, and a stark contrast from your warm ones. it felt like you’d given yourself an ice burn.

you cleared your throat, yet stayed silent, not knowing what to say.

the man across from you was in a similar boat, cheeks dusting a light pink as he focused on the heat emanating from where your hand once was.

“i’ll show you to the couch, if you’d like?” your voice tilted up at the end of the sentence. “i have a feeling our layout is the same, so the bathroom should be in the same spot, if you need it.”

he followed behind you with a quiet murmur agreeing about how similar your floor plans were. 

your eyes widened as you entered the living room,.empty syringes and dirty tiny baby dishes were strewn across the coffee table. you placed your laundry basket to the side, hastily picking up your earlier mess with an apology.

the shake of your neighbour’s head went unnoticed by you as you rushed into the kitchen and back out. it wasn’t until you had presented him with the pull out that he spoke again.

“you know,” his voice was rather quiet, conscious of the baby sleeping just a little ways away. “you really should not let strangers into your home.”

for a second, you nearly felt your heart stop— this was it. he really is a serial killer— until you caught his expression, once again riddled with guilt as if he was overstepping. as if you hadn’t invited him in.

“you’re not really a stranger though, are you?” at the cock of his head, you continued. “you’re my neighbour who i’ve inconvenienced all night.”

“you don’t even know my name.”

you nodded. “alright, i’ll bite. you bring up a good point. so what is it then? your name?”

“...mick.” he had a slight smile playing on his lips.

“well, mick.” you gave him a small smile, initiating a handshake. “my name’s y/n. now, we’re neither strangers, nor neighbours with no names.”

mick couldn’t stop the smile from spreading over his lips, hand warm in your hold. “i suppose you’re right, then.”

you quickly left to grab the man— mick— a few pillows and a comforter from your closet. “i’m the door at the end of the hallway. if you need anything, you can knock on that door and let me know.”

mick nodded. “of course. thank you again, really.”

“not a problem.” you smiled, already making your way out of the living room.“i’ll see you in the morning, then.” 

as you walked out the room, you couldn’t help but turn once more, eyeing the blond-haired man who somehow didn't look so out of place as he messed with the teddy bear that you’d forgotten to pick up from the couch. you smiled.

“goodnight, mick.”

“sweet dreams, y/n.”

[steddieasitgoes]

@steddiemas Day 20 Prompt: Sick Day

Tags: Established Relationship, Mentions Of Past Parental Loss, Eddie Munson Needs A Hug, Steve Harrington Is A Sweetheart

wc: 1290 | Rating: G

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

Steve doesn’t get it.

He’s seen Eddie in worse shape.

Death knocking on his door, tubes, and machines keeping him alive. In spite of the shitty cards he was dealt, he always had a smile on his face — cracking jokes with the kids, charming his way into extra pudding cups and sides of mashed potatoes. Steve’s pretty sure they mourned the day he was finally released because he had a way of making even the crabbiest doctors smile.

If ever there was a time to be miserable and wallow in the pain it was then.

And yet, a winter cold has managed to knock Eddie on his ass, turning him into the most miserable, helpless version of himself.

Steve hates it.

Not because Eddie is whiney and dramatic (he’s both of those things on a good day), but because he doesn’t know what to do to help.

Days and nights blend together as Eddie stays sheltered in his bedroom. His bed is a nest of blankets and pillows — half the time he’s burrowed under them, no doubt making his fever worse, and the other half he’s propped up on pillows, desperately hoping the elevated position will ease his cough. A hoard of half-empty bowls of soups and napkins full of nibbled-on crackers are scattered on his nightstand along with the cold medicine Wayne picked up three (maybe, four?) days ago. The one Eddie refuses to take because it makes him feel worse.

His usual unruly curls are flattening by the second and his cheek has a near-permanent indentation of his wrinkled pillowcase at this point. If it weren’t for his frequent trips to the bathroom, Steve would be worried about muscle loss and blood clots on top of the hundred other ways he’s worrying about Eddie right now.

Steve’s tried everything. His grandmother’s chicken noodle soup, coaxing Eddie into a warm shower, even phoned Ms. Henderson to see if she had any home remedies he wasn’t thinking of. Nothing seems to be working.

At a loss, Steve tiptoes into Eddie’s room hoping to find him sleeping beneath the covers.

He’s not.

“Eddie, baby,” Steve coos. Toeing his shoes off, he pads his way over to the edge of the bed and runs a hand over the corner of the bed in search of Eddie’s legs. When he’s certain they’re not there, he sits. “What can I do to help?”

Eddie groans and presses the right side of his face deeper into the pillow. A single tear races down his cheek as he sniffles. “Could you just lie with me?” he croaks, voice horse from lack of use and the sore throat he’s been fighting for the last few days.

“Course, baby. Why didn’t you ask me sooner?”

He doesn’t wait for the answer and instead shuffles up the bed. Resting his back against the headboard, he kicks out his legs over the hoard of blankets and lets himself sink into the warm mattress. Once he’s situated, Eddie shifts until his back is pressed against Steve’s side. It’s weird feeling the heat that radiates from his body — he’s usually the one with cold hands and feet in the relationship.

“Didn’t want to get you sick,” Eddie mumbles eventually.

“Don’t mind getting sick, if it means you’ll feel better.” Steve means it. He would shoulder all the sickness and pain in the world if it meant that Eddie and everyone else he loves never had to feel anything but happy and healthy. If only the world worked like that. “Do you need anything?”

It’s silent in the room as Steve waits for Eddie’s response. So quiet, Steve wonders if maybe Eddie’s drifted to sleep and he’s waiting for a response that’s never going to come. But then Eddie shifts beside him, slowly rolling onto his other side so he can face him.

“I need my mom,” Eddie whispers just as the floodgates open, tear after tear falling from his eyes in that slow dramatic way they only do in movies. At least, Steve thought it only happened in movies.

His heart seizes in his chest as Eddie reaches for the soft sweater he’s wearing. Doesn’t complain when he buries his face into it, staining it with tears and snot and whatever else as Eddie’s body shakes under the weight of his tears.

Christ.

He doesn’t get it, not entirely. His own mother was never the nurturing type — she’d slap down medicine on his bedside table and leave a list of places she’d be if he needed to reach her, but that was it. Never once did she rest her hand against his forehead to check his temperature, let alone sit at his bedside.

But he knows Eddie’s mom would have done those things. Probably did do all those things judging by the way his boyfriend is sobbing in his arms right now.

Admittedly he doesn’t know much about Ms. Munson — he’s gathered it's hard for Eddie to talk about her. But he knows enough to know the world lost an incredibly kind soul way too early.

“Eds,” Steve sighs, scooting down until he’s lying down with Eddie firmly curled up on his chest. He gets both arms around him, squeezing him tighter. “I wish I could.”

“She always—” Eddie hiccups, wincing as the motion burns his already aching throat. “She always used to lie down with me. Run her fingers through my hair until her ring got caught in my curls. Then she’d move to tracing up and down my arm.”

Steve doesn’t have to be told twice. He lets one hand drift into Eddie’s tangled curls, scratching his scalp before gently carding his fingers through a few strands. His other hand ghosts up and down his arm, goosebumps erupting in his featherlight touches wake.

“Like this?”

Eddie melts under the contact, nuzzling deeper into the warmth of Steve’s sweater. “She made the best grilled cheese sandwich when I was sick. And she’d cut them in weird ways. Let me eat them in bed while she told some story she made up on the spot.”

“Well, m’no storyteller. But I can make a grilled cheese. Probably not as good as your mom's though.”

“No,” Eddie agrees, the smallest smile tugging at his lips as he looks up. “She had a secret ingredient she never told me.”

“Bet it was love.”

Eddie wrinkles his nose, shaking his head, “That’s lame.”

“Yeah, it is. She wouldn’t have had a lame secret ingredient.”

“She was the best,” Eddie sighs, closing his eyes for a moment before they flutter open again. This time he wiggles out of Steve’s embrace and moves his head back to his pillow before grimacing at the wet stain left behind on Steve’s sweater. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Eds. S’just a sweater.”

“I know. I just…” he groans and rubs circles over his eyes with his fists. “I always miss her more when m’sick.”

“That’s okay,” Steve says, pulling at him until Eddie’s back on his chest and his hand is back in his curls. “You can tell me about her, you know? Whenever you want. I like hearing you talk about her.”

“Maybe when my throat doesn’t burn like Satan’s living room.”

Steve laughs.

There’s his boy.

“You know, that medicine over there might help with that,” Steve teases, gesturing to the untouched medicine.

Eddie wrinkles his nose in disgust, shaking his head.

“Alright, you big baby,” Steve chuckles. “Why don’t you get some sleep then?”

“Will you stay?” Eddie asks, already fighting sleep judging by his fluttering eyelashes.

“Course I’ll stay,” he whispers. “I’ll even make you a grilled cheese when you wake up.”

“Full of love?”

“Yeah, Eds. Full of love.”

[luckytiggertalia]

Named, but Nameless

1.2k homelander x reader, sfw, fluff, headcanons about his birth name, a canon conversation between my oc and homelander written in an x reader format, she/her reader

Gaining such a strong connection with another human, after Madelyn, was something Homelander was convinced would never happen again nor would he ever try again. The fragility of human life and the strength of a supe never mixed well. Like water and oil, so close and yet always separate. Life and love didn't care about that, though. Life and love were the reciprocating shakers, vibrating and agitating the oil and water until they were as incorporated as possible. 

His couch was the shaker, and his knee was doing the shaking, bouncing up and down in rhythmic thumps. The foreign feeling of tightness in his chest overwhelmed him. He was a God. Why the hell was he feeling all these human emotions? What reason did he have to be so anxious? Beside him was nothing more than his mortal. He was stronger than her. He was braver than her. He could do anything and everything she couldn't. So why couldn't he respond to one simple question?

"Answer me.. please. Are you okay?" she said after concluding that he would stay silent. Her voice was laced with worry, with her brows knitted together. "Homelander?"

His supe name rolled off her tongue so deliciously, despite the name being admittedly bulky. Her voice carried that name through his every vein and artery, but the tightness in his chest remained. That was his name. He was Homelander. And yet, after gaining such a connection to her, the name felt… wrong. Perhaps it was the cliché of superheroes to have secret identities. Starlight had one, "Annie" they called her. Black Noir did, too, "Earving". Was his name worthy of being a secret identity?

"Homelander?" she repeated, speaking more sternly. She reached out to him, placing her hand over his bouncing knee, knowing all too well that she couldn't still it.

"John.." he said, his voice hushed.

"John?" she repeated.

Homelander grimaced, hearing her say it. This was a mistake. He said it too impulsively, and now it was too late to take it back. 

"J.. John. It's my birth name. Use it. If you want, I mean." The uncertainty in his voice made him sick. He sounded so pathetic, so unsure, so human. 

She didn't speak, instead just trying to read his expression. The silence sickened him. Was she judging him for his name? Was the name too simple or boring for her? He had never exactly told a partner his real name. They always seemed to just find out, whether by accident or by snooping. He had hoped being the one to tell this lover his name would feel liberating. Oh, how wrong he was. This felt suffocating. This felt like his identity was being forced upon him. This felt like that damned cage he was kept in as a child. John. John Doe. Named, but nameless. A science experiment with no sense of self. Only pain. Torment. Abuse. 

"Do you want me to call you that?" her voice rang out, presumably noticing how uncomfortably he stirred from her silence. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again. Her knowing and using his assigned name was supposed to be the next step, and yet he wanted to say "no". Needed to say "no". 

"It's okay if you don't want me to, baby. I'm okay with just calling you Homelander."

His brow furrowed as he groaned, slamming his hands on the couch and forcing himself to his feet.

"No! No, you aren't… you aren't fucking getting it!" Homelander paced, his hand up near his mouth as he chewed on the leather of his crimson glove. "It isn't enough. 'Homelander' isn't enough! Everyone calls me that… Everyone uses that name. It's not special!" He hardly knew if he was making any sense to her. He wasn't even making any sense to himself. He knew he had no reason to get upset or frustrated because of something as trivial as a name, and yet he couldn't help it. He felt like a child. 

"Sweetheart, hey. It's alright. Let me try and understand, okay? Come here," she beckoned, arms opened and inviting. 

His teeth sunk harshly into the leather, his pacing slowing down as he glanced toward her. He stood still before going to reclaim his spot beside her, leaning into her warmth with his nose pressing into her neck. 

"Alright… So no 'John', and 'Homelander' isn't special enough. We could go with a nickname? I've used 'Homie' in the past. How about that one?"

The vibrations of her throat and the sound of her calmly beating heart soothed his unease. Always a problem solver, this one. The world would be damned if she ever couldn't find a solution to something.

"No… I like 'Homie', but it's still not special enough. I… I guess I want something more private. Just for us."

"Ah, I see." 

Silence again, but this time he knew she was just thinking. He didn't speak either, curious to see what his partner would come up with. She often surprised him with her ideas and suggestions and he hoped she would surprise him here, too. 

She broke the silence, "How about… Johnny? It is close to ‘John’, but far enough away to be special, and private, of course.”

The corner of his lip quirked in surprise. "Johnny?" he repeated, lifting his head off her shoulder. He had to fight back the smile forcing its way onto his lips. 

"Yeah! Johnny. I think it's cute, personally."

Homelander bit the inside of his cheek, averting his eyes all while turning his head away from her. That smile won and sat plastered across his lips. Hearing her say it again made a warmth blossom from his chest and spread to his every extremity. He could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. It wasn't any spectacular nickname at all, rather common really, and yet it sat with him. The tightness and anxiety he had felt was quickly forgotten. 

"I mean, we can try it," he said with an attempt at sounding indifferent. He leaned back against the couch, head still turned away from her.

His response earned a small laugh from her, "We'll try it, then." He heard her leaning closer and saw her hand coming around out of his peripheral. Soft and tender, her hands held his face as if he were a fragile, porcelain doll. She turned his head to look at her, her eyes filled with nothing but affection and love for him. They stared deep into the blues of his own. Instinctively, his head leaned deeper into her hold, lips centimeters away from her palm.

"I love you, Johnny…" 

That…

It rolled off her tongue, her lips… It glided through the air like a feather. His eyes grew wider and softer, lips parting as he took it all in. Her voice echoed throughout his psyche. He latched onto the soundwaves, never wanting to forget how beautiful her words sounded. His mind felt numb and he felt a high he’d never experienced before. He felt lightheaded in the best way possible. All that combined with the softness and love in her eyes made him feel as if he would faint right in her arms. He leaned deeper into her touch, reaching a hand up to press hers harder into his cheek. He kissed her palm, lips smiling against her skin. 

I love you, Johnny…

"I love you too, my darling…"

[thetriplets3]

❝𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮❞

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☀︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☀︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ⋆｡⋆

{𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫}

when chris cares about someone he will go to the end of the earth to make sure they’re okay. sure he can be goofy and childlike but he’s got a heart of gold, wanting to make sure everyone is taken care of before himself. that’s what i love about him, which is why he was the first one to notice i was sick.

the triplets and i had planned to go to the flea market in town at 2 but when chris hadn’t hear from me by 1:30 he called me to make sure i didn’t forget.

“hey are you ready yet? we’re leaving soon”

“hi uh no i woke up this morning feeling like i’ve been run over by multiple trains i feel like shit so not i can’t go” i croak.

“why didn’t you tell me earlier? i could have come by”

“i slept like crap because everything hurts to move and breathe so i stayed in bed hoping i’d fall asleep and that you guys would forget about the flea market because i felt bad for ruining the plans”

“forget the flea market it’s literally every week you don’t need to feel bad. you come first. i’m coming over and no i don’t care if i get sick i drink so many Pepsi’s a day if that hasn’t done anything to me getting a cold is nothing. i’m coming over whether you like it or not”

“fine. can you please tell matt and nick i’m sorry and that i’ll make it up to them. they are so excited for us to go”

“you don’t have to apologize i’ll tell them your sick, they’ll understand. they can still go if they want”

“if you say so. doors locked so use your key i’m gonna try to sleep” my voice trails off.

“i’ll see you soon i just gotta do a few things first, get some sleep”

chris pov:

2:23pm

walking upstairs i find matt on the sofa ready to leave.

“i just called y/n to see if she was ready but she got called into work someone didn’t show up for their shift. she said to tell you guys she’s sorry she didn’t tell us earlier her morning was hectic trying to leave last minute, she felt bad”

“that’s okay we can go next week. did you and nick wanna still go?”

“i’d rather wait til we all can go. if that’s cool?”

“of course, i’ll let nick know”

while matt heads upstairs to talk to nick i sit on the couch and think about what excuse i can make to get out of the house without them coming. sending a text in our groupchat i send an excuse.

i’m gonna go shoot some more photos for the new fresh love drop with brandon (aka gwhip333)

cool, you need a ride?

nah i’m good i can uber

when they model each others brand 😩

bro you’re weird

i’ll probably be back later tonight we’ll probably order food so don’t worry about me

we always worry about you, you’re a very concerning person

aw under that cold exterior you care about me, how sweet. i’m leaving

and with that i was on my way to her house without nick and matt knowing. i didn’t tell them because i know she hates being the center of attention and the last thing she wants is for 3 people to loom over her making sure she’s okay. so i’m going alone.

readers pov:

the rustling in the kitchen causes me to wake up for a second before realizing it’s probably chris, a burglar would make more of an attempt to be quiet. pulling my duvet up to my chin, i’m out like a light. i’m gently woken by chris. he knows better than anyone to wake me up gently and carefully.

he learned that the hard way.

he walked in my room one day, climbed in my bed, and made himself comfortable. being a fairly heavy sleeper, i didn’t hear or feel him come in. i rolled over in my sleep, i was met with a body. my natural instinct, in my half asleep state, was to smack and flail at whatever was in my reach. which happened to be chris’ face. hearing i’m yelp and call my name i woke up in seconds.

“what the fuck chris?! why would you sneak in here when i’m sleeping are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“i was gonna wake you up in few minutes, you just looked so peaceful i didn’t want to disturb you, i didn’t know trying to be nice was gonna get me bitch smacked” he grumbled.

“i’m sorry i didn’t mean to hit you i was scared” my voice small, yet filled with guilt and concern. “you can’t sneak up on me like that”

“i should have expected that to happen” he laughed.

sitting up, i grab ahold of his chin gently turning it to the side i smacked.

a sad sigh escapes my lips “i left a mark” i frown.

“don’t worry about it it doesn’t hurt, i kinda deserved it” he reassures me.

“you kinda did” i laughed.

so now chris knows to not be so silent when waking me up. he sits beside me on my bed and starts quietly talking to me, slowly getting a little louder when he sees me stir. like a feather, his fingers delicately graze my cheeks, making their way to my knotted hair, tucking the stray, sweat soaked pieces out of my face.

my eyes flutter open, promptly squeezing shut as the brightness hits my eyes. groaning, for multiple reasons; being woken up, the brightness, and suddenly feeling all the aches and pains. i nudge my head towards chris’ hand on my cheek, enjoying his warmth and touch.

“well hello you ball of germs” he lovingly joked.

all i can do is glare at him however pain and misery are evident in my appearance. my forehead creased from the crushing pressure in my head, my limbs tight and scrunched from the aches and pains shooting through my body, and a frown replacing my usual smile.

“i’m not gonna bother asking how you feel because i already know the answer so i’ll skip to is there anything i can do for you?”

“i don’t know. uh maybe the heat pack? everything hurts so much” i tear up.

with a swipe of my stray tears and a quick "I'll be right back" he's off scouring my apartment. within minutes he’s back, plugging in the heat pack before getting in bed and leaning against the headboard. not only did he come back with the heat pack, he also came bearing a CVS bag.

“okay i’ve got cold meds, cough lozenges, fuzzy socks because i know you love them, your favorite soup, voltaren to put on where your achey, fruit snacks to munch on, tissues obviously, and this little penguin stuffy i couldn’t leave with out it” he explains in a hushed tone.

“thank you chris, you didn’t have to”

“i know but i wanted to, i wanna take care of you. you’re always there for me so whatever you need i’m here. now come cuddle you need sleep”

snuggling up to chris with my head on his chest and my arm draped across his body clutching his shirt. he wraps his arms securely around me. one hand holding the heat pack against my back and the other massaging my scalp, both helping my headache and making me sleepy.

i wake up confused when chris isn’t beside me but the rattling and banging in the kitchen answered any questions i had. slowly but surely i make my way to the bathroom. as i’m leaving i hear my phone ding. a text from matt reads,

hey kid how’s it going? i know you were looking forward to the flea market we’ll all go next week

i’m slowly rotting away in bed i feel like i’ve been run over been a bus. you guys could have gone without me but thank you for waiting to go with me

3rd person pov:

it’s then that matt realizes he’s been told 2 different stories. chris said y/n couldn’t go because she got called into work and y/n just told him she’s sick. immediately he knows who’s telling the truth because y/n wouldn’t lie, she’s too honest for her own good. not mentioning this mix up to y/n he tells her he hopes she feels better and to call him if she needs anything.

matt can’t help but smirk. he caught his younger brother in a lie that showed him everything he needed to know to confirm his suspicions. matt knew from the start that something was off with chris’ story because brandon was in NY for the week. both matt and nick knew something weird was going on but they needed chris to get himself caught in a lie to know if they were right.

chris’ pov:

i stood over the counter carefully watching the soup cook not wanting to burn it. just as i turn the heat down, my phone buzzes in my pocket. it’s a text from nick,

how’s shooting going? matt and i miss brandon tell him we need to hang out together soon

my breath hitches, i need to keep my lie going.

good these are turning out dope i can’t wait to see the final version. he was just saying that earlier we’ll plan something

your pov:

i muster up the energy to take a shower and wash my hair just not to the extent to normal would. over the sound of the cascading water i think i heard a knock but it’s heard to tell. it could be chris destroying my kitchen.

i get changed into one of chris’ hoodies i borrowed a while ago and never gave back and a pair of sweats. towel drying my hair i try to soak up as much water as i can, hating hating the feeling of wet hair. feeling my stomach grumble i follow the smell of soup to the kitchen only to be met with nick and matt sitting across from chris having some silent triplet conversation.

“hi what’s going on?” my voice hoarse.

chris’ pov:

sitting atop the counter beside the stove so i can keep an eye on the soup, i play games on my phone waiting for y/n to finish in the shower. a soft knock on the front door catches my attention. opening the front door, assuming it was a delivery driver dropping off a package, i’m surprised to see matt and nick. i probably look just as confused as they do. they make their way in and we settle on the couch, i feel like a kid about to get in trouble.

“dude why’d you make up a lie you could have told us you were coming to take care of her which might i add is a very boyfriend thing to do”

“i just- i wanted to come and take care of her, that’s not a boyfriend thing it’s called i care about her, i want to make sure she’s okay and that i can help her out if she needs it”

“yeah sure whatever but alone? that’s the weird part. why can’t you just admit you like her?”

“okay fine i do! i wanted to hang out with her without you buffoons there. i want to take care of her, make sure she’s okay. i love seeing this soft, gentle, affectionate side of her. i love being the first person she calls when she wants help or is having a bad day and just wants my company.i love being with her and these moments don’t happen when you bozos interfere”

“we already knew your undying love for her. the way you drop everything when it comes to her. your heart eyes are so obvious. how affectionate, gentle, and calm you are with her. you know when we’re out in a group or crowd i always catch you searching for her, smiling when you spot her, knowing she’s safe. when she’s around, she’s the only person in the room to you”

a little stunned that he knew all that but i kinda expected that from him. i have nothing to say so i just nod, agreeing with him.

the creaking floor board directs my attention to the stairs, y/n’s come up for lunch. matt, nick, and i look back and forth between each other. i know they’re wanting me to say something to her about how i feel but now isn’t the time.

“hi what’s going on?” her voice is scratchy.

nick and matt say their hellos as i get up leaving to talk to each other while i go meet y/n in the kitchen.

“how ya feeling? did the shower help?”

“a little, i’m still achey and in pain, my head hurts, and i’m tired. can you come cuddle?”

her beautiful blue eyes looking up at me, silently pleading, i can’t say no to that. “here, go have some soup in bed and i’ll be there in a second okay?”

your pov:

i carefully take the warm bowl of soup downstairs to my bed, eating it while i wait for chris. 5 minutes later, my door slowly cracks open to reveal chris with a soft smile adorning his face.

“i’m all yours now. let’s cuddle but first let me put the voltaren on that’ll help your aches. where’s it hurt?”

“um uh my-my back and neck mainly” i stumble over my words knowing you’ll be putting it on my back. very intimate action.

laying on my stomach without my head to the side, duvet cover pulled back, chris sits beside me pulling my oversized shirt up so he can access my back and starts putting the lotion on. once he’s done he makes his way under the covers letting me rest my head on his chest. his cologne brings me comfort just like the feeling of my hand gently massaging my back as he holds me.

“thank you for taking care of me. you’re so good to me.” no one has ever cared for me the way chris does. he’s shown me what it’s like to be loved.

“i’d do anything for you, you know that. i love taking care of you, moments like this are my favorite. now get some sleep i’m not going anywhere.

“i love you”

“i love you sweet girl”

little did they both know, they actually meant it.

thank you @abbie13sworld for giving me this request

taglist: @antisocialties @iluvmatt @dwntwn-strnlo @fake-coolbeans @opheliaofficial07 @angelcake-222 @oneirophobic @strniolo @lollibumblebee @ssturniolo @20nugs @abbie13sworld

[weixuldo]

Linecook Anakin HCs pt 2

pt one

HELLO once again i am back with more ani hcs… i have a multitude of ideas like a never ending flow so if u all want more lmk :)

warnings: cursing, ani is a typical horny young adult, smoking; weed, cut?

Sometimes he wears a black bandana to hold his hair back and…. Fuck, its hot

Wears a black hat sometimes too

One time he forgot to bring something to pull his hair back so he embarrassingly had to use someone’s neon scrunchie- he was not thrilled

The type of guy to douse himself in cologne before shift so he smells “good” for longer (plus he thinks you'll like it)

He definitely looks on the schedule app to see what day’s you’re working

Happily surprised when he sees you walk into the kitchen when he knew you weren’t scheduled. 

Walks up to you when you’re clocking in; tosses his rag over his shoulder and leans up against the wall beside you.

“Hey beautiful, I didn’t think you were scheduled”

“Nah, I picked up Hera’s shift, wanted some extra money”

He clicked his tongue and smiled, “Ahh, I think you just missed me, you could have just texted me princess”

“In your dreams Skywalker”

Lots of “fuck’s” and “goddamn’s” when he accidently burns himself on the grill or oven. 

When he cuts himself while preparing the meat or veggies, make sure to clean it out and put a brightly colored bandaid (he keeps them in his pockets) on it… mostly because he wants you to notice he injured himself. 

“What happened Anakin?”

“Oh, nothing- I just was cutting too quick- it kinda hurts tho…wanna kiss it better for me?” he comments with a smirk

“Ughhh, I guess” you roll your eyes and indulge him. 

He gets pissy when the other waitresses aren't running the food in the window because it backs up his workspace and he cant put out new orders

“Hands to the front!” he yells, as he checks the screen for the incoming orders

No one answers, he looks around and sees the waitress doing side work and getting drinks, but not running his food. what the fuck?!

A part of him is frustrated that you aren’t backing him up, but then he realizes you're not even in the kitchen. 

You walk in and see the window is still full; “Guys! Can I get some hands to the window?! I can’t run all of your food plus mine and serve my tables all at the same time” you say loudly. 

You stand by the window handing the plates to the new line of waitresses who are now ready to work so they don’t get yelled at later

“Alright, let's get these out quick! I know its rush but Anakin cant put up the new orders if these don't go out” 

He smiled to himself, you’re not only helping him out, but you also care about him being able to do his work too. 

Once everything is out and things have calmed down he thanks you

“I appreciate it, princess”

“No worries, I was just sick of running everyone’s shit by myself” you sigh

“You’re doin great” he smiles

One time you were on vacation for two weeks and he thought he would die

He flirted with other waitresses but it wasn't the same

The day you came back to work he was surprised to see you- he had forgotten to check who was working

“Hey y/n!” 

His ears perk up at your co-worker’s sing-songy voice.

“Hey Rose” you reply.

You walk into the kitchen; your skin has a noticeable beach tan and he can see a small hit of your bikini line by your collarbone (and ofc that goes straight to his dick- good thing he’s wearing an apron)

“Hey Ani” you say, walking past the kitchen to put your purse in the back. 

“Hey beautiful” 

Throughout the shift he can't help but watch you breeze through the kitchen like you never left. 

Your radiant smile enchants him, making it hard for him to concentrate on the orders coming in.

Definitely curses out new cooks when they mess up too much during rush

Anakin hates when the manager assigns him trainees- he doesn’t wanna come to work and have some idiot mess up his flow by following him all over creation

He gets this new guy and already doesn’t like him because he’s way too talkative

When the new guy finally starts on his own, he starts trying to get the know the waitresses: He talks about this TV show with Hera, exchanges jokes with Rose, banters with Ahsoka, but he doesn’t really talk to you; not that you care, work is for work- you don’t need to make friends with everyone. 

Deep down Anakin is kind of glad he doesn’t try to talk to you (he gets a weird vibe from the new guy)

On 4/20 he brought a bong and all of the cooks and him hit it in the back before shift. 

Everyone thought it was gonna be a disaster, but surprisingly all the cooks were more on top of orders than usual; half of them got really focused on getting stuff right, others just relaxed, and then there was the few who thought everything was hilarious

The restroom is in the front house where the guests sit, so when the cooks need a break they have to walk through the restaurant. 

Sometimes you’ll see anakin come from the back; apron off, messy hair, and his cleaning rag looped on his belt.

But what you also see is a multitude of customers watching hungrily as he walks by.

For some reason that stirs something in you… annoyance? Or maybe it's jealousy?

He really is too hot to be working in the back of a restaurant- his face alone would make much more doing something more appearance based. 

But what you don’t know is that he thinks the same exact thing about you. 

Anakin walks back in from a smoke break and hears the “new” guy talking about a certain waitress he seems to like. 

“Yea, y/n? she’s bangin’, like fine af. Y’all don’t understand how hard imma hit that when I get the chance” 

Anakin’s eye twitches at the disrespectful description of your body and who tf did this guy think he was? There’s no way you’d even entertain him. 

He’s two steps away from taking this guy out back and kicking his ass. 

“Woah, woah man. That might not be the best idea” Rex, another cook, says. 

“Yea, dude. Y/n is basically Skywalker’s girl… and I wouldn’t wanna mess with him when it comes to her” Cody offers. 

Anakin saunters from around the corner, acting like he wasn't listening and the conversation subsides. 

Later walks up to the new guy and grips his shoulder uncomfortably hard; “Yea, the guys are right- I would advise you stay away from y/n and I swear- If I ever hear you making crude comments about her again- you’ll be meeting me out back”

Anakin pats his back and continues on- safe to say he never talks about you again

Scrolls on dating apps that he never actually utilizes when he gets home from a closing shift and finds you- he sits up and focus on all of his attention on your profile

Suddenly bro’s a super spy because he’s analyzing everything- your bio, your likes, what you're looking for, your preferences, your music taste. 

He taps through your pics and his eyes widen as he sees you in clothes other than just work ones… and maker- you are gorgeous. 

His sweatpants feel a little tighter as he scans over a pic of you from your beach vacation- he recognizes the bikini by the tan he saw in you earlier in the month. 

His hands tremble just a little as he decides if he should swipe right or just let it go. 

In a moment of bravery he swipes right- now he’ll show up in your feed to judge-

“Match” 

What?

The screen flashes pink and the words “match” are plastered across the top 

That means that you saw his profile first and swiped right… what does this mean for work tmr??

[aloesarchives]

Valentine's Day Special #2 (JJK One shot)

Warnings: Suggestive parts from Suguru and Shoko but it's funny, I think that's it.

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader

Here's Gojo's part I promised after my Toji one. A bit but here nevertheless.

 “Sugu, have you gotten in touch with Toru? He hasn’t responded to any of my calls and texts this morning and class starts in 10 minutes.”

“Maybe Satoru forgot to charge his phone last night and is coming here with a dead phone. I mean we did have a late start today but you know how he is. Something wrong?”

“I thought I asked. I’m just a little worried, that’s all. Normally he would blow up my phone but not today. I hope he’s not sick.”

You sigh as you look at your phone to see if any more messages would be sent but none came. It was Valentine’s day today and everyone was giving their Valentine gifts to the one that gives them heart eyes. Some were cute, others were cheesy, and some were mid. You’d usually spend Valentine’s day alone or celebrate it with a few classmates. However, this year was different because you would actually be celebrating with Satoru. Initially, you were trying to play it cool and be all chill about it. Not making it a big deal. But you can’t help but feel giddy and a bit excited because you can spend the day with your boyfriend who was also your best friend. 

However, Satoru’s lack of response made you a bit anxious with your foot rapidly bouncing and your eyes fidgeting between his empty desk and the clock. If he was sick and couldn’t come to school, you would understand. But Satoru wasn’t sick yesterday or showed no signs of any. You hoped that he was okay and nothing bad happened to him. With class starting in five minutes, you deflated into your seat and just wanted the day over with because it wasn’t going to be fun when Satoru’s absent. 

Just as you were about to turn around and ask Suguru something, your classroom door slid open to reveal Satoru Gojo in the flesh. His face was covered by a bouquet of (favorite flowers) and a large shopping bag. Sugaru just smirks as you sit in shock before standing up to meet Satoru who was standing next to your desk.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Sweetheart!”

“Is this for me, Toru? Aww, thank you~! You shouldn’t have.”

You give him a quick peck on the cheek before taking your gifts and placing them on your desk. To everyone, Satoru brushed it off suavely while embracing his confident smile. But to you, and Suguru, Satoru was a lovesick fool who is screaming from joy on the inside.

You would have talked more but the bell rang so it will have to wait until break. Satoru sneaks a grin, sending a wink your way while you could only roll your eyes playfully.

“Sorry I didn’t answer your texts or calls this morning. I used the late start to pick up your gifts but I accidentally woke up later than expected. So I had to rush myself to get your things while trying to make it to school on time. I had to ask Suguru to distract you until I arrived.”

You glanced over at Suguru to confirm what your boyfriend said was true. All you were met with was whistling and his eyes were anywhere but on yours. You shake your head with a chuckle as you place your hand on Satoru’s bicep while walking to get some snacks.

“You had me worried, Satoru. I got scared for a second something happened to you. At least it’s good to know that you were okay.”

“I didn’t mean to! Look, I just wanted to surprise you. I just—you know— had a minor slip up. I just wanted to treat my favorite girl!” Satoru whines out trying to defend himself.

“Favorite girl? You mean I’m not the only one, Satoru?”

Satoru froze and had this look of absolute panic on his face. Suguru gave an accusatory look at Satoru’s way before you bursted out in laughter.

“Toru, I’m just messing with you! You look like you’re about to cry, I didn’t mean to get carried away like that! I know you love me, you simp. My one and only.”

The way his face shifted from panic, relaxed, to flustered was like a powerpoint where the teacher is changing slides too fast. The tips of his ears and the apples of his cheek were rosy pink. He tried to use his free hand to hide his blush but it was useless. Suguru just laughed at the expense of his friend. 

It was interesting to spend Valentine’s with one of the school’s heartthrobs. Satoru’s fans are split down the middle between fangirling or mean mugging at you two. You honestly don’t care about the haters because they’re not the one dating Satoru. School goes on as per usual, Shoko came to hang during lunch because she was out on a field trip, and the occasional hallway confessions and gift giving. Once school ended, things were different. You assumed you would go back to your dorm and that’s the day.

But Satoru had other plans in mind. You were about to go grab yourself something at the local convenience store before seeing Satoru pull out in a slick black sports car. At this point, you wonder what Satoru didn’t have. Satoru said the day’s not over and he’s got stuff in store for you. He takes your stuff away inside the car before reaching his hand out towards you with the absolute rizz.

“Let’s get moving, Babe. I don’t want to waste a second today when I’m with you~” Satoru says with  his overflowing rizz and charm.

You giggle like the high school girl you are and make your way over to him, taking his hand in yours.

“You two love birds have fun! Don’t go too crazy!” Suguru shouts from afar.

“If you guys do the deed, don’t forget to wrap it up, Satoru!” Shoko shouts after as she waves off to the two of you.

You both immediately got in the car, Satoru laughing his ass off with red all over while your whole body was ablaze and on fire. If it were possible, steam would be coming from your head. Once he comes down, Satoru starts driving you to treat you like the fucking queen you are. Satoru took you to all your favorite spots, stores, and places. He bought you anything you asked for, which were literally three items. He takes you to a crane game arcade and he won every single game you looked at on the first try, getting some of your favorite plushies in the process. God the way you smiled and eyes lit up made him so elated that his heart was going to burst. Genuine joy and whims of boyish youth surge through him as he realizes he can be himself around you. 

Free from his title as a Gojo, free from being the heartthrob, free from being anything other than Satoru and your best friend/boyfriend. He wanted to feel like this everyday forever when he’s with you. Every now and then he kisses your hand as you go around to your heart’s content. You never had this much fun in your entire life until today and it was all boy you gave yourself to that was also your best friend. As naive it is to think, you knew you wouldn’t experience this with anyone else. For your boyfriend to also be your best friend was absolute bliss and you want both of you to cherish it forever.

You two sit on a bench in an empty park, staring up at the starry night sky while eating some daifuku together. Your hands interlaced and both of your heads lean onto each other. No talking, just silence and the sound of the city night life filled the air.

“I want to thank you for today, Toru. I had a wonderful time, and it’s because of you.”

“I should be thanking you, (Y/N). You showed me things I never thought I’d get to experience. You made me feel things I never thought I could feel until now. All thanks to you… I love you, (Y/N).”

Satoru turns to face while holding your hand up to his face to kiss it. You smile softly at him while unlacing your hand so you can cup his face gently. You giggle seeing his face sink slightly in your hold.

“I love you too, Satoru Gojo. For as long as we’re together, I will always love you.”

Pulling him in to share a sweet kiss until the gentle moonlight. Once pulling away, Satoru brings both your hands into his as he brings them to his chest, feeling his fast but strong heart beat. His eyes are full of sincerity and unwavering dedication, boring into your own.

“Then promise me, (Y/N), you will stay with me for the longest time. Not just spending the future Valentine’s days together, but to experience life with you by my side. Now and forever… my one and only…please…”

You see the yearning and devotion in his cerulean eyes that still shine in the midst of night. His words, his eyes, his heart reassured you with everything you needed to hear. Because being with Satoru Gojo is something you will never regret and neither did Satoru as he never regretted loving you and only you.

“Of course, Toru, I’ll be with you until the end of time. Now and forever, with my one and only, Satoru Gojo.”

At your confession, you saw a smile that Satoru gave you that will forever be etched into your memory. One you have the honor and privilege to see everyday as he does with yours.

There’s no telling what the future holds. But it’s guaranteed that there are many more Valentine’s days to be spent together with Satoru. In which one of them you are wearing a shiny ring. Then another where there’s an additional ring on top of your other one, you are seated close to your husband as your last name is now Gojo.

[helpallthenamesaretakenblog]

so :D i wrote my first ever fanfic because i was intrigued and want to know if i could do it. i hope you like it :)) i nerded out way too much on this one so spare me pls be kind!

description: set during the battle of manhattan, tlo. slightly canon divergent. lot of percy angst. tw: su!cidal thoughts. percys pov. percabeth being cute. based on the poem 'stopping by the woods on a snowy evening' by robert frost :)

Miles to Go Before I Sleep- A PJO Fanfiction

I couldn't sleep that night. I paced the room for two hours until late night as if there was something terrible was going to happen. I was worried sick--about Annabeth, about the war, about everything. At midnight, moonlight streamed through the hotel window as I sat, almost lifelessly on the bed, staring into nothing. Suddenly, I heard a creak in the door, and I was about to snatch riptide before I heard a whisper, "Percy? You awake?"

In the shadows, I saw the familiar figure of Grover, tired after a long day of attending to the satyrs. He sat down next to me on the bed, and we both stared at the wall in comfortable silence. For a moment, I could almost close my eyes and imagine that we were 12 year olds at Yancy again. "The Apollo kids are seeing you through the hotel surveillance cameras. They sent me to ask you to sleep" "Since you're the only one right now who I'll listen to?" ".....yep"

While Grover rambled something about him being my unofficial mom right now, I looked at my bedside table, and there it was. Pandora's Jar. Man, I wished the stupid thing would stop following me around, and right now, it wasn't the best time for me to want to resist opening it. Unfortunately, Grover read my emotions. "You want to open it, don't you?"

The question, which had always been on the back of my mind, really stung now that it was said out loud. I think Grover could see I was breaking down a little on the inside, and wrapped me in an awkward hug. "I-I do," it came spilling out of my mouth, my voice cracking. "It just feels like the Fates are giving me an opportunity instead of a challenge. I feel like everything around me is falling apart. I'm not good at handling war. If I give up to Kronos, he'd kill me, as long as I'd make him promise he wouldn't hurt you guys. It's just easier. It's better for everyone else" My eyes felt wet, and I pulled away quickly. Grover looked so lost, I immediately felt bad for making him worry about me. "Go to sleep, Percy," he said in a painful tone, as if I was a delusional grandpa who had gotten loose from the nursing home bed. Before I could say anything, he pulled out his reedpipes. Before I could protest, he started playing soft, sweet music and before I knew it, I was asleep.

In my dream, I was sitting with Annabeth in the strawberry field, while she had a book in her lap. Annabeth was smiling, her hair glinting in the sunlight. She was okay. We were okay. It was a sunny day and all the campers were having fun. I remembered this day; this conversation had happened two months before the war. Woah. That felt so far away.

"I finally found the greek version of this poem!" she said excited, her eyes sparkling, which gave me butterflies. "This poem is really famous for the last four lines, wait-wait, I'll read it out to you" She picked it up. "So the English version of these lines are: "The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep" I bumped her shoulder with mine. "Ok, nerd...what's the point?"

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "It basically means that the poet wanted to die and found death a beautiful easy way out, but he realised he still had a duty in his life and that he still had a long way before his time to go, isn't that so poetic?" "I guess. You're better at this than me"

This didn't happen that day, but she opened her arms, as if about to hug me, probably due to Grover's magical reedpipe music, and for a second I felt elated that life felt livable again, before the ground opened up before she could, and I fell into endless darkness.

I woke up, shaking. I felt like I had been given a sweater in the cold before it got snatched away, leaving me back in the freezing winter. Grover was gone. I wanted to go back to sleep. I wanted things to be alright again. I wanted to see Annabeth happy and nerdy as usual and hug her. But sunlight streamed in through the window, and I forced myself out of the bed and went up the stairs to where Annabeth was.

When I walked up to her in the chair, my heart broke again. She looked so different from the dream. Her eyes were weakly staring at the view, she was shivering and her face was still a little gray. "Hey" she said. I checked up on her, talking to her about her health, which was slowly getting better, thankfully, but it didn't stop me from feeling guilty.

As I stared at her hopelessly, Pandora's Jar appeared on the table next to her. Annabeth studied my face. "We should put it in a place where it stays there"

I nodded my head in agreement. I took the jar gingerly in my hands. I looked out into the view from above. The whole city was in my sight. I saw demigods rebuilding the mortal's homes, some of which were damaged after the day's fight. I saw Nico rejoining a skeleton from his army's bones, with Will hovering curiously from a distance. "Is that a coccyx ?" "Gesundheit" If I died, he'd be the prophecy kid. I saw two tired aphrodite girls staring at a broken mirror, as if wondering where their life (and skin) started to break. I needed to keep them going. I needed to survive, I couldn't let them down. I needed to give them what they were fighting for. They were fighting for me. All my depression would have to wait for another day.

"It must be annoying," Annabeth said. "Don't you ever just want to open it?"

"Nah," I gave her my bravest smile, as I carried the jar to the door, where I would give it to be locked in a storage locker in the hotel. "I have promises to keep; and miles to go before I sleep"

[flshbang]

FOUND THIS IN MY DRAFTS!!

Content Warning: Possible S/A, Abuse.

You and Task Force 141 had a week off, it was July, so it was classified as “your summer”. Where your team’s base was, it was situated close to a beach, so you all decided to go there for a day.

Johnny and Kyle were in swim shorts, in the water, splashing each other. John was sitting in the shade, chuckling every now and then at the childish behaviour of his teammates. Simon, on the other hand, was your boyfriend. He was sitting on the rocks, mask on, even his uniform was on. Surely he was sweating. And you were sitting on the warm sand, reading. Everyone was happy, as it seemed, Hopefully.

“..hmm..” you exhale, content, closing your book. You turn to Simon, gesturing to him to come over. Seemingly amused, he did so.

“Yeah?” he huffs, sitting down next to you. “Nothing specific. Just.. you should socialise,” you say with a grin. “Very funny..” he mutters, “I’m not a beach fan.” he says, excuses. “So? Enjoy the day, Simon..” you sigh.

“No, thanks.” he says firmly, you sigh, rolling your eyes. “What’s the point of you even being here, then?” you didn’t mean this in a rude way, but thinking back, it sounded incredibly mean. Simon went quiet. “Fine. I’ll go.” he says, almost whispering, before getting up, walking off. “No- Simon, wait!” you say quickly, pulling yourself up. John turned to you, his Captainy face returning. “Something happen?” he said quietly, not wanting to worry Kyle or Johnny.

You shrug, which was honest— what even did happen? “I don’t know.. i said something, it came off.. weird..” you begin, but John sighed, putting a hand on your shoulder. “He’s been off all week, it’s not you.” he soothed. You stay quiet for a moment, “yeah.. I’m worried.” “About Simon?” “‘mmm.” “It’s okay, he’s fine, this is Simon.. he’s odd like that.” “guess so.

But something was very odd, and you need to know why.

☆ Simon's point of view after leaving.

Simon walked off, sighing. Turning the corner to an alleyway. Even though it was incredibly sunny that day, this specific alleyway was always dark. It creeped you out, truth be told, it probably crept Simon out too.

He walked down, trying to ignore the voices in his head telling him things he did not want to relieve from when he was a child. Until a hand grabbed his arm.

It was a man. Older. 40s, 50s maybe.

“Let go..” Simon practically mouthed. He was shaking. It couldn’t happen again. No, no way. The man’s breath smelled of alchohol, making Simon almost choke. “Let me fucking go.” he begged. But the man just held onto his arm, his grin growing ever so slightly. “Now, now..” the man hissed, stepping closer to Simon. “We’ve talked about how rude it is to curse, haven’t we, Si..?” the man said. Simon thought he was about to faint, his heart hurt, his head was throbbing.

“Who.. the hell are you?” he spluttered. “Oh, you know me..~” the man responded, inches from Simon’s face. His breath tickling Simon’s face. “I don’t. Who..” his heart could’ve stopped. “…dad…?”

“Ah, you do remember me, then, Simon.”

Simon and his Father had a terrible relationship. His Father, was a horrific man. Traumatising Simon’s whole childhood. He was who had caused him to hate touch. He made him be how he is.

“Let me go, dad.. you f- fucking told me you wouldn’t come do this.. to me again.” Simon pleaded, trying to get out of the man’s grip. But as strong as Simon was, his Father always seemed stronger. Mentally and physically.

“Now, now, Simon..” his Father began, stepping even closer to Simon, putting his hands on his waist. “We’ve talked about this. You’re my son, give or take.”

“I’m never you’re son. You’re a monster. A.. a s-sick.. bastard..” Simon choked, tears in his eyes.

“Aww.. little Si gonna cry? What? Do you want Mum? Awh.. ain’t that a shame?” his Father spat.

“You won’t get away with th-..” Simon’s vision blurred with fear. His Father pulled his mask off, throwing it back behind him. Ruining it.

“No.. Dad, no. Stop, please.” he pleaded, his chest felt tight. “Stop..”

“Where’s your manners, my boy?”

“..fuck you..”

His Father’s grip tightened on Simon’s throat, his vision went dark slowly.

“Manners..?”

“..please..”

~

“Simon’s been gone a long time, hasn’t he.?” you suggest, through smiles. You, Johnny, Kyle and John were around a campfire. The Sun set, the air growing slightly colder.

“Aye! Where did ‘e even go? Me an’ Kyle was in the water.” Johnny said, Kyle agreeing with a nod.

“Yeah, he has.”

“..Maybe we should look for him. Y’know?” you suggest, receiving a nod from John. “We should.”

So you, Johnny, Kyle & John walked off the beach, down the alleyway.

“What the fuck?!” you yell, seeing a pleading Simon, and a fucking horrid sight infront of him.

His father.

“Simon.?!” you try go over, but John held you back. “Stay away from the fucking monster in front of him.” he said, seemingly trying to ryle Simon’s Father up. “john, what are you doing?” you whisper, but John gave you a trust me, look.

Simon’s Father let go of Simon, he fell to the ground, gasping for air while he still could. “The fuck did you just say to me? Oh, i see.. you’re Simon’s little friend group? Well, guess what, pal. You don’t scare me.. none of you do.” his Father said, walking over to John.

John grabbed the other man, pushing him against the wall to get him occupied.

“Y/N, get Simon, get him back to the base.” John ordered, but you already were helping Simon up. Johnny and Kyle followed closely behind you.

“It’s okay..” you whisper, holding Simon upright. He was barely breathing at this point. “breath for me.. in, and out. There. That’s it..” you soothe as Simon began taking shallow breaths.

“H-he said he w-would find m-me.” Simon choked out, “i didnt th-think he w-would..”

Oh.

Oh.

Now it makes sense, how John said 'it’s just Simon' it wasn’t— he was scared.

[ventiij]

Could you request an au royal with prince!wanderer x servant!reader where wanderer during the night asks reader to stay until he falls asleep and she ends up falling asleep kneeling next to his bed? (Sorry if there are any spelling mistakes, English is not my native language)

HOW DID I JUST SEE THIS IT’S BEEN MONTHS I’M SO SORRYYYY

no worries anon, english isn’t my first language either so we’re twinning bbg (it’s four am help)

APOLOGIES IN ADVANCE SINCE THIS SUCKS😭

idk what got into me while I was writing

anyway, here my silly little requested fanfic is 🫢

bg:

before your family had gone broke, you never thoguht you’d find yourself in this situation. at the palace, you really were just a simple servant like everyone said.

…

before your father lost everything there was a rumor which was slowly passing from everyone’s mouth - whoever started working for the royal family wouldn’t make it out of a miserable life, they’d have you wrapped around their fingers.

there was a reason to think that though - the payment wasn’t enough to change job. yes, it was simpls like that. they do offer you a place to stay and food to survive, but overall it was just enough to afford taking a week off when you’re sick, apart from national holidays and all that.

your life isn’t a normal one, nor one somebody would aim at. you are nothing but one of the servants at the royal palace. no-one knows you for who you are, but it’s not all that bad. you have the whole palace for you and your friends, your families and many people you care about, who actually do know the real-you’s worth.

the royals aren’t so bad either! the queen is the one who rules the kingdom as there’s no king, she’s independent, enterprising and has an intimidating story behind her. her name is Raiden Shogun. meanwhile, her son, ‘the wanderer’, is a spoiled brat with an ass attitude who’s against the whole world.

this gremlin spends most of his time around the castle, glaring at every servant while they’re doing their job and stand there watching, only to walk away like nothing happened. there was this one time, when you were mopping the floor… he didn’t take his eyes off of you for a split second! …at least it felt like so.

after a couple more of such events happening to you for no reason, because you work properly (if not splendidly), he suddenly calls out your name while you’re doing your thing. “Y/n.” you turn around all freaked out since it couldn’t possibly mean good things when someone had to deal with this guy, he looked so stern and cold and and-

“meet me in my room after dinner.” he said and just left like that. eh?

His room? did he want you to clean it? Dust it? Make his bed? That wasn’t in the contract… he didn’t mention the reason, so you decide to just go with it.

after dinner, in his room

you greet, slightly bow and stand right before the doorframe, dressed up for the occasion, as you see him in his pajamas. he didn’t even bother to greet you - instead, he straight up ordered you: “stay with me for the night” what. you? what. what again? “me?” he nods and gets in bed looking skeptical as usual “who else?” you just watch from afar, scared you might do something to give him the ick. so this isn’t about cleaning, huh?

“well? aren’t you going to sit down somewhere?” he asks and you just kneel down next to his bed at his height, perfectly intersecating his gaze. “don’t you dare wake me up before 7 am.” ‘bitch?’ you want to reply as he just stares at you. ‘aNyThInG hIs mAjEsTy wAnTs’ like hell you were gonna stay like this for a whole night for no reason.

“Uh, no? This isn’t in the contract.” you contradict him and were prolly one of the few people who did that to him in his whole life,

“alright.” he says as he rolls in bed, turning around and closing his eyes to drift off to sleep.

…does he actually expect you to fall asleep in this position?

some time later

‘can’t deny he looks pretty though.’ you think as you finally come to terms with the fact that he wants you there. your mind can wander all it wants thinking of all the possibile reasons behind this blessing in disguise, but no true reason can be found.

well, it’s only for today. after all, how do you know who you might see as you get out of his room? and what will they think? ugh

aside from that, you could get in his majesty’s graces, soo

this is no occasion to waste.

[tripleaxeldiaz]

until the earth starts to crumble and the heavens roll away (i’m yours)

read on ao3

The sun is setting, a warm orange glow seeping in through the blinds, when he comes into Buck’s room. Everyone else had been in and out already with hugs and goodbyes and promises of visiting tomorrow — everyone except Eddie. And judging from the redness still fading from around his eyes and the way he’s forcibly trying to keep his shoulders away from his ears, Buck thinks he understands why. 

He’s been in Eddie’s shoes. No amount of therapy or coping mechanisms could have stopped the ice cold, all encompassing tendrils of panic from taking over his body and mind when Eddie was buried alive or shot in broad daylight. Even after running into the hospital room after Eddie woke up, he had to take 10 minutes in the bathroom to collect himself before he could open his mouth without bursting into tears.

So he gets it. He’s not mad.

He’s just really glad he’s here. 

“Hey,” Eddie says, voice soft and low, almost as soft as the one he uses with Chris when he’s sick. Buck watches him make his way to the chair next to his bed and sit down, hesitating for a breath before pulling the chair as close to the bed as he can get. 

Good. Buck would’ve pulled him over himself if he hadn’t. 

“Hey,” he says back, sitting up straighter against his pillow. He’s not in pain exactly but he feels…uncomfortable. No position he sits in ever feels good enough, standing for too long makes him dizzy. The nurses are right, of course, he’s definitely still healing, he just wishes he didn’t feel like he was about to vibrate out of his skin while it was happening. 

That may be a him thing, though, nothing at all to do with being struck by thousands of volts of electricity and all to do with him being restless, bouncing off the wall Buck. 

A Buck that he no longer resents. Except in this moment when he just wants to relax.

They’re quiet as he adjusts himself, finally settling and facing Eddie as best he can. “Did Chris go home?”

“Yeah, about half an hour ago. Carla took him, he’s got school in the morning.” Eddie picks at a loose thread coming off the blanket covering the bed, and Buck notices he’s shaking. He wants to reach out, to hold him, to show him that he’s okay, that he’ll be back to normal in no time, but he looks like a strong breeze would shatter him where he sits, so he stays put. Eddie clears his throat before talking again, eyes never leaving the thread. “Did he tell you how we snuck him in to see you?”

Buck smiles. “He did. Made it sound a lot like a heist.”

“I wouldn’t call distracting one nurse a heist,” Eddie says. The corner of his mouth just barely ticks upwards, as close to a smile as Buck expects to see from him today. “But you know Chris, he could charm the pants off anyone without even trying.”

“Sounds like his dad.” Eddie rolls his eyes, but the tips of his ears go Buck’s favorite shade of pink, and he’s grateful that he gets to see it again. But the levity is brief — his brow furrows again, and Buck sees him bite the inside of his cheek, watches the shaking get a little more pronounced. His hand had moved up the blanket at some point, coming to rest right next to Buck’s where it rests. Eddie traces the outside of his pinky, softly, gently, like he’s worried about Buck shattering too. He takes a couple deep breaths and moves his hand again, twisting their pinkies together. The vibrations that have been coursing through Buck for days now quiet down the smallest amount, but it’s enough. It’s a relief. He’s touching Eddie, and it feels grounding, steady, sure.

It feels like a lifeline.

“I was really scared,” Eddie says, quiet enough to almost be absorbed by the blankets and bedding. “I saw you hanging there and I just ran, I didn’t even think about it. And then you wouldn’t—we couldn’t—” his breath shudders. “You were so still. I’ve never seen you that still.”

Buck sits up then, moving so he’s cross-legged on the bed, looking at Eddie straight on. He twists their already clasped hands until they’re fully intertwined, grabs the other one too and holds on tight. He squeezes once, twice, three times, before Eddie takes the hint and looks him in the eye. They’re bright and shining with tears and Buck still wants to get lost in them, even when they’re breaking his heart.

“I remembered you, you know,” he says. Eddie cocks his head, confused. “Not the dream version of you, I didn’t even meet that version. But the real you, the one that had my back when I went up the ladder. The one that always has my back. I remembered that. I remembered you, before anyone else.”

Eddie ducks his head again just before his shoulders shake, still trying in vain to keep everything together, either for Buck’s sake or his own. He wishes he could drill it into his stubborn brain that it’s okay to break, that Buck has picked up the pieces before and he will every other time after, that he fought like hell to get back to this family, to this Eddie, shrapnel and all. Instead, he holds Eddie’s hand a little bit tighter, threads his other hand through the hairs at the back of his neck, and rests his forehead on Eddie’s crown. His hair smells like cedar and cinnamon and faintly of smoke. It smells like Eddie. It smells like home.

They sit up after a while, but neither goes very far — their hands are still clutched together and Eddie is tracing nonsense on the inside of Buck’s wrist. He can’t believe that even for a minute, he didn’t want to come back to this — to Bobby on his way with In ‘n’ Out, to Hen and Chim ordering a cake with a horrible joke on it in the waiting room, to Maddie’s smile and Chris’ laugh.

To Eddie holding his hand.

“Thank you,” Eddie says, softly but fiercely. He looks Buck in the eye again, determined and steady, like he’s trying to piece himself back together by sheer force of will. “For coming back to us. We need you, Buck, more than I think we’ll ever be able to tell you.”

He brings one of Eddie’s hands up to his heart, and the last of the vibrations finally melt away. He feels still again, but not in a scary way. In a way he’s not sure he’s ever been, even before being struck by lightning.

“I’ll always come back,” Buck says, a truth he knows better than his own name. “It’s gonna take a lot more than a trippy purgatory nightmare to keep me away from you.”

Eddie smiles, a real, joyful smile that crinkles at his eyes and makes Buck want to sing. He presses his lips to the inside of Buck’s wrist — in prayer, in thanks, in a promise.

It hits him then as hard as it’s hit since he opened his eyes: Buck’s home. People love him.

He finally believes it.

[shady-lemur]

here’s a part 2 to abby and the red bikini! it’s a little bit rushed but i wanted to get it done before my classes and work consume me. thank you for the love on the last part! it always makes me nervous making smut 😓😓

first part

it’s been a week since that night with abby. you haven’t been able to look your boyfriend in the eye, let alone have any form of intimacy. you haven’t fucked, cuddled, kissed, hugged, or held hands and you knew it was killing manny. he thought it was something he did.

but tonight he asked you to come out with him to a few bars, so here you were. you’re sitting awkwardly in a sit at a high top table with manny, owen, and abby… of course they’re here.

you keep looking at abby, trying to wordlessly tell her “hey!! ever since i had sex with you i can’t even look at my boyfriend and everytime i look at you my face heats up and i can’t be this anymore!!” but she refused to meet your eyes. you didn’t fail to notice how good she looked, a loose black tee with a cargo skirt and her black combat boots. of course her hair was in a braid and she had neat black eyeliner pulled out into wings.

you nervously nurse your drink as they converse about the baseball game on the bar tv. how the fuck could abby be so calm and collected about everything?? after a few more minutes of trying to get her attention you pull your phone out.

(you pink, abby purple.)

we need to talk!!!!!!

What’s there to talk about?

omfg

maybe you’re okay just lying to yourself and everyone around you but i’m not. i can’t do that to manny.

You can’t tell Manny. He’ll never talk to either of us again.

that’s so fucking selfish abby.

we fucked up. and what abt owen? are you okay just acting like you didn’t have sex with someone else?

Yep.

jesus fucking christ.

i can’t believe i messed everything up with manny for u. you’re a fucking coward and a terrible friend.

you turn your phone on silent and put it back in your pocket. your face is heated with anger. abby finally looks at you but it’s a new expression. she’s upset and fucking angry, and it’s all directed at you. you roll your eyes at her scowl and turn to manny, tapping his shoulder. he turns around with a slightly worried expression on his face.

“sorry babe. i’m gonna go home i think.. my stomach hurts super bad and i’m started to get a headache.”

he puts his hand on your forehead to feel your temperature and nods. “let me drive you home.. it feels like you’re heating up and-“

“i’ll just uber. have a goodnight with your friends and i’ll text you when i get home.” you have to physically force yourself to kiss his temple and wave at the other two at the table before grabbing your bag and basically running out of the bar. you order an uber and sit at one of the benches near by until the car pulls up in front of you to take you home.

————————————————————————-

last night when you got home from the bar you cried a little bit, drank a lot, and crashed on your couch. this morning you’re regretting every decision you’ve ever made. you couldn’t keep lying to manny like this. you were making yourself sick. and the thought of abby being completely fine keeping this a secret even more sick.

so you decide to call the only other person who knows other than you and abby.

“dee!! i need help.. can you talk?” you basically yell through the phone right when dina answers your facetime.

“what’s up baby? i have like 20 minutes before i need to go pick jj up.” concern is written all over her face as she takes in your hungover tear stained face. you can tell she’s meal prepping.

“last night i saw abby again and she seriously wants to just act like nothing ever happened. like she doesn’t want to tell manny.”

dina frowns at the camera. “y/nn! you know you have to tell him. you fuck up and the only way to get some peace with the situation is to talk to him.” you buried your head into your pillow and shake it. “i’m so stupid!!!!!!”

dina nods as she cuts carrots into jj bite sizes.

“but abby’s stupider. at least tell manny that you cheated, you don’t even have to mention abby.”

you look at the phone and nod. “yeah.. you’re right. i’ll talk to him.”

“mkay babe. i love you, even if your stupid!”

you blow her a kiss before hanging up and texting manny to ask to meet up.

less than 15 minutes later you’re sitting at a table in a cafe waiting for your boyfriend.

“hey.” you hear him as he pulls up a chair across from you and smiles. you give him a sad smile and hand him his coffee order. “thank you love.” you must’ve cringed at the nickname.. you used to love when he called you that.

“manny.. i have to tell you something.” his face slightly drops at your words. he motions for you to go on.

“shit.. a couple nights ago i had sex with someone else.. i’m so fucking sorry.” you feel the tears forming when you look at manny’s disappointed face. he looks like he’s about to start to cry too.

“fuck, y/n”

you look at him. “i love you manny. i never didn’t love you. i never deserved you though. you should be with someone better.”

“i do. i don’t think i can do this anymore,” he scoffs, “i can’t believe i was ring shopping just the other day and now we’re here.” your eyes widen and your tears start to fall. seeing the damage you caused made you feel like you were dying a slow and painful death.

“i’m so sorry. you deserve everything and more. thank you so much for being so good to me.”

he nods slowly and looks down at his drink. “i’ll text you about getting your stuff from my apartment.” then he’s gonna before you can say anything else, leaving you a sobbing mess in a small coffee shop. the barista even ends up giving you a free croissant because “it looks like you need it..” and you did. you also needed a few shots in your system right about now.

————————————————————————-

it’s been about 3 month since your breakup. you and manny were somewhat civil, you still followed each other on instagram, and hookuped a few times (womp womp we’ve all been there don’t judge them!!)

but you were really getting your life together!! you baked dessert way to often, you babysat jj way more than dina needed you to because how could you not!! you started exploring your sexuality more, and stopped drinking so much.. it was starting to be a problem. and you haven’t thought of abby for weeks! except for a couple nights ago, and a few night before that, and maybe and few nights before that night!

you were doing great!! totally not thinking about your ex’s roommate/best friend!! never!!

you’re baking an apple pie when there’s a frantic knock at your door. you rush over to look in your peep hole first because living alone is scary and frantic knocks are scaring. imagine your surprise when you see the one and only abby anderson!!! she’s sweaty and has a conflicted expression on her face, she fidgets with her hands nervously.

you open the door in your cute apron and baby blue long sleeved shirt with some plain jeans. you have flour all over yourself. “um.. hi..?”

abby’s face goes pink at your domestic state and clears her throat before looking you in the eyes. “i broke up with owen. manny knows everything. i can’t stop thinking about you.. fuck.”

you stand shocked for a second before finally responding. “you’re serious..?”

she nods, “i think i wanna be with you.”

you look at her in shock again before she slams her lips into yours, you immediately melt into the kiss. you pull her closer by her shirt and whine. she bites your lip softly and brings her hands to your waist, pushing you into your apartment as you laugh into the kiss. you pull away to close your apartment door and shake your head playfully at her, “we’re so fucking stupid.”

abby nods, “the stupidest.” she says before lifting you up so you can wrap your legs around her waist and carried you to your bed.

————————————————————————-

@ang3lzl0v3 here’s part two bb 🫶🏻 i hope you like it

[wuahae]

✶ seventeen, after it all ends.

post-breakup hcs, ft. performance team

-> vocal | hip hop

junhui still sees you in everything you left behind. it speaks to him in echoes, scattered light in afterimages, scuffs of shoes on the floorboards near the front door and missing keys on the wall hook and gaps on the refrigerator door where ghosts reside in the emptiness. you had left him slowly, packing away belongings as you hovered over places you had once called yours, small trinkets and old clothes buried in forgotten boxes offered to him for safekeeping ("do you want to keep it?" you asked, holding out a scarf. it had been shared so much it developed from 'yours' to 'his' to a hazy state of 'ours.' "it'll keep you warm when it gets colder here."). old memories dug up and split into two, postcards written and photos strung up in the bedroom placed in the care of those who they never wholly belonged to, junhui tries to remember that day in the way it happened in its fullness—soft sunlight, quiet smiles, intimacy he knew would be for the last time. you had set aside a couple dishes next to a half-full glass of water, things to take or leave; there was a mug with a chip on the rim you insisted on taking (you were the one who had dropped it in the sink, after all), but junhui slid it over to his pile before you could say any more. (there was a cat painted on the side. you were the one who picked it out.) weeks later, the glass is still half-empty where you'd left it; junhui doesn't think he can ever fill it again.

soonyoung loses himself in the noise. he throws back another shot, the liquid burning on its way down his throat, a dull roar in his ears. it's a sick sort of satisfaction as the heat sears through his skin from the inside out, but soonyoung has always been one to relish in pleasure not so easily earned. you had once told him that was what you loved most about him, his passion fueled with sweat and blood and devotion for things just out of his reach, but soonyoung thinks it's a little cruel of you, then, to turn into the thing he hopelessly longs for. his finger hovers over your contact in an alcohol-blushed daze before he knows it, only pausing when a brief moment of clarity settles gently on his shoulders; jihoon's told him countless times to just delete your number already (keeping relics of old memories allows the loss to fester, he's been told), but it feels a bit too akin to giving up, like turning off practice room lights when he's yet to perfect a dance move, or settling for a performance worth silver when he knows he could turn it into gold. soonyoung is stubborn, almost to a fault, but that was what you had loved about him, right? (do you still? a tiny voice in his head asks. his thumb slips, the voicemail beeps.) then again, maybe loving you was a fault of his, too.

"i'm fine," minghao insists, for what seems like the hundredth time. his skin prickles under the hidden looks everyone sneaks when he has his back turned, pity and concern and minghao wishes they would just stop because he really is just fine. ("we broke up weeks ago," he says, irritation carefully patted down like static flyaways. "there's nothing to worry about." doubt can be traced even before minghao can see their faces, and he rolls his eyes, suppressing a sigh before leaving.) minghao returns home and a quiet "i'm back" almost slips out before he catches himself, biting his tongue as the click of the door echoes through the silent apartment. he wonders when habits will break, when he will stop looking for things that once were— the other toothbrush by the sink, extra leftovers in the fridge, articles of clothing draped across the furniture for convenience. it's almost funny, when he thinks about it, the way he only now sees glimpses of future in spaces where it no longer exists; or maybe they had always been there and he just had taken them for granted, had gotten used to the feeling of his hand in yours and the warmth of your body by his side and if he were being completely honest, home has never quite felt the same ever since you left. minghao supposes love made all the difference (the clock on the wall ticks hollow, cold, every second fraying away at his edges). "i'm fine," he reiterates softly, to himself. he hopes one day the love that remains will allow him to truly mean it.

chan knew he should have just stayed at home. it was a mistake to let himself be worn down by seungkwan's insistence, but he only has himself to blame as he downs another drink, watching as you giggle another quiet whisper into another man's ear. chan's grip tightens around his glass, fingers slick against the perspiration, gaze burning and molten-stuck to the stolen sight of you. and almost as if you sensed the lingering, your gaze catches his and he immediately averts his eyes, stool scraping against the floor as he gets up to leave. your stare sears holes in his back as chan weaves his way through the crowd, and he wonders how it's all come to this—how you both can only bear to look at one another when the other has their back turned, how everything he knows about you has turned into a burden with no place for to go. a part of him chides gently that he should just let it go, (it was over, after all—it has been for a long time. maybe it was time for him to let the knowledge of you go, to finally meet your eyes when he says goodbye) but the past eclipses with the present too vividly for the memory of your breath on his neck to not feel like salt on never-healed wounds. so chan pushes his conscience aside under the lasting buzz of liquid amber, ignores your eyes still searching for his, and curses that he really, really, should have just stayed at home tonight.