#what’s the pathetic way to say I want my mum

[i-love-your-father]

Not to sound pathetic but please someone hug me- I’m gonna cry and I genuinely don’t have a reason.

[puranami]

✿ Fever - 1 ✿

A/N: Not included Brook and Jimbei bc I have absolutely no idea how to write them. Also, since Chopper is baby it would feel weird including him, even though it'd be in a purely platonic way. Just because of all the pining going on. Idk, I'd rather keep the themes separate, if that makes sense?

Summary: You're sick and try to ignore it.

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji, Robin, Franky.

Content: SFW, G/N reader, no serious illness but Usopp's is a liiiiittle angsty bc of his mum, not proofread (effectively) bc it's past 2am ✿

(Part 2)

Luffy

✿ He's honestly oblivious to things at first. You are doing your best to maintain your usual level of enthusiasm but it's so exhausting, and that's the most he registers - that you're tired.

"Hey, did ya not sleep too good?" he asked, entirely too loud for the headache beginning to form. You groan and lean your head into your hand, as if that would somehow soothe things, but to no avail. "Don't worry about it, I swear it won't affect my duties," you say, not sure who you were trying to convince. Apparently it didn't work regardless, as when you looked at him he was just stood there frowning with his arms crossed, and his head tilted. Before you could say anything you were greeted with a rubbery palm lightly smacking against your forehead, earning a surprised yelp from you. "You're hot." "Luffy!" Of course he had to say it that way. If you weren't already burning up with this fever, that would've set your skin ablaze. He really had no filter, and he never realised how the things he said affected you. He removed his hand from your face to grab your own, turning to drag you back to your quarters, not listening to any of your protests on the matter. There really wasn't anything you could do once Luffy had made up his mind, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't part of his charm. "No duties for you today, 'kay?" It may have been phrased like a question, but you knew it was 'Captain's orders.'

✿ You'd end up sleeping most of the day, with Luffy having gotten Chopper to look after you.

✿What you wouldn't be aware of was his constant presence while you slept, keeping a quiet vigil whilst he made sure the damp cloth on your head was always nice and cool.

✿ He just wants you to get better as fast as you can!

Zoro

✿ One word; clueless.

✿ It just looks like a hangover to him, what with the way you groan at the light, are unsteady on your feet, and complain about being nauseous.

"And I thought I drank a lot last night." he'd comment with a smirk. "Shut up, Zoro, you always drink a lot," you whine. "I didn't drink anything!" "The pathetic whining says otherwise." You threw the rag you'd been cleaning with at him. He raised an eyebrow, watching it harmlessly drop to the floor in front of him. "Your form is off." This man, you swear! You try to growl out an insult, but it dies on your tongue, a wave of nausea hitting in it's place, causing you to clasp a hand to your mouth. "Alright, easy champ, no need to strain yourself," Zoro raised his hands in faux surrender. "Come on, you gotta sleep this one off." He can't help but smile as you pathetically smack at him while he picks you up, opting for bridal style as opposed to flour sack, only so you don't empty your guts down his back. Saying that, he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy holding you like that, though you're far too busy trying to fight him to notice the dusting of pink on his cheeks. "Don't worry I'll get you through this. I know my way around a hangover." "I'm not hungover," you protest as he gently places you in a hammock.

✿ True to his word though, he does see you through it, even if 'it' is the wrong thing. Task failed successfully!

✿ Zoro stays beside you, makes sure you drink plenty of water, and get plenty of rest, even falling asleep himself at one point; his face inches from yours as he was leaning against the post the top end of the hammock was attached to at the time.

✿ Sadly you never saw that as you slept right through it. Would've been good ammunition to use against him when he needed taking down a peg.

Nami

✿ One of the people who would actually do a good job of looking after you. She's not got the gentlest bedside manner; she is firm yet fair, so you're in good hands.

When you don't join the crew for breakfast, Nami took it upon herself to make sure you hadn't gotten tangled in your hammock, or something equally as stupid. You wake up in a cold sweat when you hear your door open, and manage to croak out, "Nami? Oh, did I oversleep?" When you try to get up, she pushes you right back down. "Don't." Her tone indicates that she will not tolerate any shenanigans, and so you do as you're told. "You need to sleep more. I'll get you some water, and later Sanji will make you some soup." She tucks a thin blanket around you, so you don't overheat. "If you so much as try to get out of this hammock I'm going to tie your arms and legs together. Understood?" Unable to stop yourself, you let out a light chuckle. "Nami, you're so cute when you pretend not to care," the fever disabling any kind of filter you may have had. While it did catch her by surprise, you are none the wiser, as you quickly drift back off to sleep. Nami has to take a brief moment to collect herself again, silently cursing the noticeable warmth in her cheeks, then mumbling about how you're an idiot before leaving your room.

✿ Nami basically dictates how your day is. Lots of sleep, plenty of fluids and maybe a warm bath to help sweat this out, and of course she 'requests' (demands) Sanji make a hearty soup to help you get better, which he is more than happy to do for her!

✿ She'll deny it, but she sets up in your room so she can monitor you throughout the day, only going to Chopper for medicine if she thinks it's bad enough, deciding it isn't necessary to bother him with something so manageable.

Usopp

✿ He panics. Something about seeing someone he cares about getting sick makes him think of his mother, and he doesn't want to lose anyone else like that.

Usopp scoops you up and books it to Chopper. You've seen him afraid, but nothing this intense, and no matter how much you try to convince him that you're okay, and that it's just a cold - you can't seem to break through to him. "Chopper, please help! Please!" He begs as he gently places you on a bed. Tears are streaming down his face, as he takes your hand in a vice-like grip. Once Chopper confirms what you already tried to tell him about it being a common cold, he relaxes a bit. You don't hold it against him, clearly this is something deeper for him. Chopper's words, those of a professional, were very reassuring. "You just need rest, but I do have medicine to help with symptoms if you need," he says before putting a comforting little hoof on Usopp's knee. "Everything will be okay, I promise." Usopp takes a moment to collect himself before quietly saying, "Can I stay?" You and Chopper look at each other before smiling back at him, letting him know he is welcome to stay as long as he likes, or in this case needs. Neither of you press him on why this had him so scared, figuring he'll tell you if and when he's ready to.

✿ Chopper will handle all of your care, because Usopp refuses to leave your side.

✿ He keeps you entertained with his stories when you're awake, and scribbles on some loose papers Chopper gives him while you sleep. It's mainly ideas for things to make, and it keeps him calm.

✿ At one point he falls asleep with his arms crossed on the bed beside you, his little fingers linked with your own, like an unspoken promise that you'll get better, and he'll be there when you do.

Sanji

✿ As soon as Sanji catches on that you are sick, he decides to completely dedicate himself to your care and recovery! He's very attentive, and will do every little thing you want or need to get you back to health.

"Darling, I insist!" Every 'it's okay,' and 'you don't need to do all that for me,' will be shot down immediately. "What kind of man would I be if I let someone as lovely as you do anything in this condition?" He clutches his chest dramatically. "No, no. Don't you worry about a thing; I'll make sure you're well again in no time at all." You really don't have the energy to try and dissuade him, so you accept your fate, and let him dote on you the whole day. It's honestly really nice; you love having his attention, and are thankful that the fever hides your blushes, but you also can't help feeling a little guilty with how much he does for you. "Please don't overexert yourself on my behalf, I don't want you to end up getting sick yourself." "Even if I was sick, it wouldn't stop me from looking after you, my dear." You can't help but frown at this. He's so eager to do for others, but is painfully stubborn about receiving that same care. "If you're ever sick, Sanji, I'm gonna do everything that you've done for me - and I won't hear any objection from you on the matter!" You say in as stern a voice as you can manage with a sore throat. "Darling-" "Nope!" You cut him off quickly, "You deserve the same level of care that you give out!" He looks at you a little wide-eyed, an adorable blush creeping along his face. He lets out a small laugh. As much as he'd like to, he says nothing more on it; you're as stubborn as he is it would seem.

✿ Sanji makes lots of lovely food to help aid in your recovery; warming soups, peppermint tea, porridge with ginger and honey. Everything that soothes and settles, no matter the malady.

✿ His bedside manner is impeccable! He's so gentle with you, and he makes sure to check in as often as he can, whilst still doing his duties, getting as much done as possible while you're asleep.

✿ Like Nami, he only goes to Chopper if he feels your condition requires it. He's confident that his cooking will be more than enough to get you back to health.

Robin

✿ A blessing, and a curse. She's very logical, and she knows how to handle such a minor illness, but, she really can't help telling you all about other illnesses that have worryingly similar symptoms.

"Oh, this one is very unpleasant," she beams, and you can't help but press your hands over your ears. "Chopper!" You cry, before she can start telling you about this particular strain of 'instantdeathitus,' practically running into the infirmary with Robin hot on your heels, holding an open book on diseases. "Robin keeps talking about scary diseases and now I'm scared I'm gonna die!" After being given a quick check-up, and much reassurance that, no, you do not have a rare disease that can only be contracted on a specific island in a completely different ocean, and yes, it is just a common cold, you relax. Mostly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Robin says later once you have bundled up and settled down. "Your cold just reminded me of this book, and I thought it was fascinating. I just wanted to share it with you." She clearly felt guilty, and you appreciated that this was just how she is, but you really would've rather she'd chosen a different topic to tell you about. "Maybe, you have a book on old remedies you could tell me about instead?" Robin perks back up at this. She truly values how much you understand her, and she can see why talking about diseases when your ill is not the most pleasant experience, so this is a perfect compromise. "That's a wonderful idea," she smiles, and you swear she puts the sun to shame with how bright her smile is. "There might be one we can try that will help with your recovery."

✿ Once you get past the scary disease hiccup, Robin is a great companion, looking up home remedies, and trying out the ones that are clearly based on logic as opposed to superstition.

✿ If you find a good remedy, she's excitedly write it down, and later pass the information on to Chopper.

✿ She's happy to get you water when needed, and will watch over you as you nap in the library. It's one of the quietest parts of the ship, so there is no way to disturb you there.

Franky

✿ Aside from Chopper, Franky is genuinely the best at dealing with sick people. He tones down his behaviour, and knows exactly what you need to get back on your feet.

Your head was absolutely thundering, at least that's how it felt. Franky clocked onto your condition as soon as he saw you enter the kitchen, and once you had what you came in for, he hurried you off to his workshop. You thought it was an odd choice. "Shouldn't I go somewhere quiet?" "I know it doesn't seem it, but I can keep this place absolutely silent if I need to. No music, no one else barging in and making a racket," he said, keeping his voice uncharacteristically quiet. "Also the walls are soundproof - keeps noise out just as well as it keeps my noise in." "Oh! That's really impressive," even when ill, there is a sparkle in your eyes when he tells you about pretty much anything he's designed or built. You notice his cheeks turning red, but assume that it's just from the compliment as he looked so proud when you gave it to him. "That's not all," he grins, "I've been working on a lil something, and now's the perfect time to show you!" That certainly piqued your interest, and he was doing a great job at distracting you from how bad you felt. Franky led you to one of the corners of the room, one that was covered in a large tarp. You'd seen it many times, and you were always curious, but he'd always brushed it off whenever you brought it up, so the thought of finally seeing what was under there was exciting! Pulling down the tarp revealed a little alcove that was almost like a nest considering the amount of cushions. "It's a space for you," he said sheepishly, "so you have somewhere comfortable to sit when you hang out in here. I figured you could rest there whilst you're ill, and I can look out for you." You stared at it in absolute wonder, big shining eyes darting between it and him. "It's absolutely perfect, thank you so much!"

✿ Franky kept the workshop quiet like he said he would, and whenever you needed anything, like water or medicine, he'd go and get it for you.

✿ At some point Chopper came in to check on you, since Franky had mentioned you were ill, but there really wasn't much to do about it besides getting lots of rest, and you had that covered.

✿ He'd work on his quiet projects, the ones still in the planning and design stages, whilst you slept peacefully in your cosy nest.

[wosoamazing]

Boys Will Be Boys Have No Excuses

Beneath the Surface | Leah Williamson x R

Warnings: Anxiety & Symptoms of Anxiety, Bullying

Notes: Based off this request. Sorry it's taken a while but I hope you all like it, also if anyone has any more requests for this series let me know. (As always don't know if I like it but yeah) 1.6K words

“Hey Bubs,” Leah said as she walked into the nurses office, and the pit in your stomach only deepened, you’d totally forgotten that your Mum had gone away, because she had a physio conference which she had to present at in Germany, Leah picking you up meant your [lan was ruined. You knew your Mum would let you have a mental health day without asking you the reason, because you would eventually answer her, however Leah wouldn’t, and you didn’t want to tell her, it was just some teasing that you were seriously over reacting too. You couldn’t keep faking though because you knew Leah would see right through it, so you had to be fine, and you’d have to do your school work and swim stuff and hopefully because you were doing work and not lying around she wouldn’t get annoyed at you.

The next morning you felt anxious, your head ached, you’d cried yourself to sleep, the dread of having to return to school, and see everyone, and face whatever the boys had to say overwhelmed you and you were scared. Trying to reduce the risks of whatever could happen, you didn’t eat breakfast, hoping that way the unease in your stomach wouldn’t turn into something more. You knew Leah wouldn’t let you stay home, so there wasn't even a point in asking, you knew she wasn’t happy having to pick you up when you were fine and in all honesty you felt guilty for making her leave training for you, so you figured you’d just have to push through, it was only a little bit of anxiety, it really wasn���t a big deal. 

However as you got further from home the feeling of unease built and it was harder to ignore the twisting in your stomach, but you didn’t know whether to ignore it or tell Leah. You didn’t want her to think you were faking, which she probably would think, but you also didn’t want to be sick in the car. But it was all just in your head anyway, you’d be fine, you just needed to stop being stupid and pathetic. However at the next set of traffic lights your stomach rebelled. Your throat burned as you brought up a mix of stomach acid and water, Leah was quick to lean over the centre console to grab you a sick bag from the glove box, handing it to you, before she hesitated, not really knowing what to do next. The light turned green and she did a U-turn, heading back home.

“Do you want me to pull over or do you think you’ll be okay until we get home?” Leah asked, her voice breaking slightly. You didn’t respond, too mortified at the fact you’d just thrown up all over the car and yourself, it was just some anxiety and now you’d ruined Leah’s day.

“Do you want some water?” Leah asked, trying to do anything helpful at all and you just shook your head, as much as your mouth tasted disgusting, you were sure you’d be sick again if you had some water.

The rest of the drive was silent, and as you pulled into the driveway Leah handed you the keys which you gratefully took, rushing out of the car and to the door, placing the keys on the hallway table before running upstairs to have a shower.

-

Whilst you were showing Leah called your Mum as she cleaned out the car, which thankfully wasn’t too bad as most of it ended up on you.

“Hey, how are you?” Maddie asked as she answered the phone. “Currently cleaning vomit out of the car.” “What. Why? What happened?” Leah sighed heavily, “I don’t know, yesterday I had to pick her up because she was feeling sick but she was fine, she didn’t have a fever and she acted normal once we were home, even did her school work. So I figured she would be okay to go to school today. We were about half way there and she just threw up no warning. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have just assumed she was fine” “Babe, it’s not your fault. It’s no one's fault, it just happens, do you think she is isck or do you think it’s something else?”“I don’t know, maybe something else, I mean she seemed to get more agitated as we got closer to the school but I don’t know if I’m just overthinking things,” “Okay, maybe we should talk to her, but Babe I’m really really sorry but I have to go, the presentation is about to start, but call me later, please,”

-

You stood in the bathroom, wondering whether you could just risk running to your bedroom to get clothes, having forgotten some in your rush to get clean.

Mother Williamson: I’ve left some clothes for you outside the bathroom in case you forgot some. I’ve also put some things in your bedroom for you that you might need, but I’ve also got the couch set up for you if you feel up to coming down. I don’t mind which you choose, just please call out for me or come down if you need anything.

You opened the door slightly and there sat some trackies and a hoodie, it was your favourite set, a set Leah had gifted you, and you felt guilty for not telling Leah you were going to be sick, she clearly cared about you but it was obvious she didn't want to overstep.

-

“Hey,” Leah said softly as you walked into the living room, deciding to ease her guilt and go down, Leah also gave good hugs that made you feel better, and you could do with one of those currently.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled before tears started to roll down your cheeks, and she held her arms out, directing you to come to her, and you did, you sat down next to her and pulled your knees to your chest, before hiding your face in her shoulder, and your tears turned into sobs.

“You’re okay bubs, I’ve got you,” Leah said softly as she began rubbing your back with one hand and placed her other hand on the back of your head protectively as you cried into her, “I’m not mad, I promise, and I’m sorry for making you go to school when you clearly weren’t feeling well,” you continued to cry into Leah as she held you tightly, murmuring calming words to you occasionally.

-

“What’s going on with you?” Leah asked you as she continued to run her fingers through your hair, having decided you’d calmed down enough to ask you the question, your head now rested in her lap and a blanket covered your body. You just shrugged in response. “Is there something happening at school? Swimming? I’m not mad and I won’t be mad I just want to help, but to do that I need to know what is going on,”

“Some of the boys have been saying things to me recently and then yesterday they made a list of the hottest girls in the swim team and they put me last, said I was too ‘muscular’ for a girl and that I looked like I was pregnant sometimes. Which wasn’t really bad but everyone saw it and it was embarrassing, and they have been saying things about you, and Mum and Cait, because you’re Lesbians and um, he-he kept telling people I made up stories about my past to get attention and sympathy and when we did those persuasive speeches the other day he asked the teacher when I finished whether we got marks taken off us for claiming to have personal experience with things we didn’t,” you spat out before pausing briefly, “but can we please not talk about it? I don’t want to, not right now at least,”

“We can talk about it later, I won't force you to talk about anything but we will have to talk at some stage, okay?” She replied, trying to hide the fact she was fuming, “But I also want you to know that what he is doing isn’t right, and you have every right to feel this way, I promise you we will fix this,” she told you and you nodded softly.

“What do you want to do the rest of the day?” Leah asked as you had brunch at one of the cafes near your school, you just shrugged your shoulders as you took another bite of your sandwich. She’d told you that you weren’t going to school that morning, you had a meeting with Josh the head of sport at 8:20 and then you’d leave. You think she still felt guilty about yesterday's events, however you weren’t complaining, the school said they were investigating this issue and as this wasn’t the first time he had done something like this and been the main culprit it would be more than likely he would be kicked out of the sport program if not the school, however his parents were quite rich and he was a good swimmer, you couldn’t deny it, so you doubted whether that was actually true, realistically there was probably more chance of him staying then going. The deputy principal was also being investigated as he was the point of contact for several other complaints about these boys, but mainly just the one and he had swept it under the rug.

[swordsandholly]

Mother’s Day Blues

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x Reader

Word Count: ~900 unedited

Johnny loves Mother’s Day. You hate it.

MDNI | cw: vent fic, big mommy issues, mentioned childhood spanking, ED mention

Johnny loves Mother’s Day.

You hate it.

He watches you stand in the card aisle, shifting side to side, reading every single card. Snatching them up and shutting them hard just to shove them back into their little displays - huffing and growing ever more agitated as you go.

“It doesnnae matter what ye pick, bonnie.” He tries to be encouraging. “They’re all nice.”

“That’s the problem.” You mutter in a voice far too weak and bitter for his liking. “Why can’t they make one that just says, like, ‘You sure are my mom!’”

“Sweetheart…” Johnny knows you’re trying to cover it with humor, but the way your brow furrows breaks his heart. He sets a hand on your waist, pointing to a very generic, sparkly joke card. You nod and take it, grimacing still.

He hates it - hates watching you chew your lip and your hands shake while you pace back and forth before the 10 am alarm you set to call your mom goes off. Hates holding you while you sob in his lap after because of course she had to ask in a pathetic, whiny voice ‘is everything okay with us’ when she knows damn well it isn’t. When she won’t ever try to fix it or admit that she fucked up.

You carry the effects of the way she raised you everywhere you go. Johnny sees them all - knows them all by heart. Every time he notices you cutting portions and weighing yourself more than normal. When you use cruel words to describe your body. Every time you don’t tell him that you’re upset with him because you’re frightened of his reaction - body shaking so hard that you look like an earthquake personified. The lack of confidence in your interactions with others, how easily you fold and are ready to people please. Every time you get that glazed over, far away look in your eye after you remember something a little too clearly.

You only took him to meet her once. He’s never wanted to punch a woman like that before.

Johnny is, and always has been, of the opinion that you should cut contact. Cold turkey. Block her on everything and leave it be. You’ve argued about it more times than he can count, going back and forth about what would happen if you did. What the worst outcome could be.

“It’s not like she hit me…” You mutter.

“Spankin’ is hittin’, love.” Johnny takes your hands. “And it doesnnae matter if she did or not. She was rotten tae ye in every other way.”

You just get quiet. Tears well up in your eyes and what is he supposed to do when you get like that? Keep fighting? No, never. It’s your decision anyway. He just hates what she does to you and, by extension, how it effects your relationship with his mother.

Every time you visit is perfectly cordial. His mum loves you - sees you as her own. You’re Johnny’s after all. Her only son. You want to love her. You really, really do but when she says ‘I love you’ it feels like you’re going to die. Every time she hugs you he can see the way your shoulders tense up by your ears and your lips purse.

They’ve talked about it. Johnny and his mum. The horrified look she gave him when he told her only the little he knew at the time was more than enough. Bless her. She made it her goal to be the perfect mother-in-law. Never overbearing, never too needy. To love you quietly and meet you where you’re at.

He’s cried over it a few times - though he’d never admit it - watching her treat you with the gentle hands and words you deserve. It breaks his heart as you try to figure out what to do with it.

Johnny has known he wants to marry you for a long time. You’ve both talked about it, both made it known that you’re fully committed to one another forever. It’s just hard to plan a proposal when he isn’t sure how long he’ll be in town. He got the ring months ago and has just been holding onto it for the right time. So, in the end, he decides to be a bit spontaneous with it. His whole family is going on a beach day, and you look so pretty in your little cover up dresses.

His little nieces and nephews gladly help him set up a little path leading to a circle of flowers. His sister brings her big, fancy camera to take pictures while his other sister hints at you to wear something cute and invited you to get your nails done a week before.

Thank god you’re one of the most oblivious people on the planet.

Of course you say yes, tackling him down into the sand while you both cry. He knew you’d say yea but it still fills his heart to bursting. He buries his face in your neck to hide it, but he can’t stop it. You’re his, always and forever.

As the family congratulates and talks, his mother finally comes up and tenderly takes both your hands in hers.“Welcome to the family, love. It’s so nice to have another daughter.”

Johnny freezes, watching for your reaction.

Your eyes turn to saucers, a quiet hiccup shaking your chest before a full on sob follows. You bury your face in your hands and she wraps her arms around your shoulders. Johnny grabs onto you both.

She might not be your mum by blood, and you may never truly open up to her, but either way you deserve a good mother. He’s more than happy to share his own. Maybe someday you’ll heal. Little by little, by the same gentle hands that raised him.

A/N: Sorry for the angst but Mother’s Day has me fucked up.

[sun-kissy]

Hello,💚

I was wondering if you’d be willing to write Remus x Fem!Reader who just had surgery of some sort? Preferably some hurt/comfort and fluff, where R is in pain and Remus is sweet about it?

Or if you’re not comfortable with that, any hurt/comfort with Remus would be great :))

(This is my first time requesting, but I really love your works! I just had surgery for my endometriosis, and I haven’t been sleeping much because of pain, so I’ve been up binge reading your works instead 😅)

💚

thank you so much for the request angel! honestly this hit home, because my mum had to have surgery for her endometriosis too, and i just wanted to say that i’m proud of you for being so strong. i hope that the pain has eased now, and you’re getting some well-deserved rest! <3

better | r.l.

tw: mention of surgery, hurt/comfort

remus lupin x reader

Remus rolls over on the bed, feeling around for you until he finds your hand. He takes your fingers in his, lacing them together before giving a soft squeeze.

“Hey sweetheart,” his words are soft and stringed together, as though dipped in honey. Your eyes are wide open as you look at him, the soft moonlight from the window casting shadows across your face. “Hi.”

“Still can’t sleep?” he murmurs, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles gently. His heart aches as he eyes you, curled up in a foetal position with your arms wrapped around your knees. You’ve pressed yourself so tightly together Remus thinks you might squeeze yourself half to death.

“No,” you mumble, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice for his sake. But he can see the slight contortion in your features, and he knows the pain is bothering you.

You’d just gotten surgery for your endometriosis a few days ago, after much convincing from your boyfriend. The pain had been bothering you for months before the surgery and he was convinced that you would feel a lot better once you faced the music. However, these past few days post-surgery weren’t proving to be any better, and he’d often find you in tears from how much everything hurt.

Remus hated that he couldn’t do anything to just take all your pain away and make it alright. But like all good things, it had to get worse before it got better.

He reaches a hand out, cupping your face in the basin of his palm as he silently thumbs your cheek. You relax into his touch, and let your eyes flutter closed.

“Rem,” you whisper.

“Yeah, dove?”

“It really hurts.”

Remus doesn’t miss the crack in your voice, and he feels like his heart is being cleaved in two. A pitiful sound comes from the back of his throat as he extends his other hand to stroke comfortingly at your hairline. “I know, baby. I’m sorry.”

At his sympathy, you curl in on yourself even further as though pained. Hot tears dribble down your cheeks and curve the bridge of your nose, and Remus moves his thumb to swipe at them. You whimper, and it makes him hurt in all the worst ways.

“I’m so tired. And I just want to sleep, but I can’t, and –” you choke pathetically on the lump in your throat. Remus shushes you, unable to stop himself from tugging you closer until your knees are squished between both of your chests. He presses a hand to your back, rubbing up and down your spine in a way he hopes is comforting.

Leaning forward, he presses his lips to your hairline. “I’m so sorry, honey. But you’re going to feel better in a few more days.” He desperately wishes his kiss could convey all the comfort and love you needed right now.

Remus needles an arm between your knees and stomach, pressing the back of his hand to your abdomen. His fingers start to trace a circular motion, knuckles brushing against your stitches in the same way they’ve done countless times before. He feels the muscles underneath his hand relax slightly.

“But what if I don’t feel better?” you warble. “What if I never sleep again?”

Remus could almost laugh at how loopy the meds made you if you didn’t sound so pitiful. More tears wet your eyelashes, and he indulgently kisses them away before smoothing his fingers over your cheeks.

“Then I’ll get you sleeping meds.”

“Really?” you sniffle, and it’s the most hopeful you’ve sounded that whole week. But you both know that Remus wasn’t going to let you ruin your system with more medicines than necessary.

“No,” he whispers bemusedly, almost guilty when he hears the earnest longing in your voice, “but what I can do for you right now is get you the heating pad.”

You don’t even look upset at his words, seemingly expecting the response. Your lip quivers as you draw it in between your teeth guiltily. “I don’t want you to get up, though. You should be getting some rest. I bet you’re exhausted, looking after me all night.”

Remus presses a quick peck to the tender spot beneath your eye as he pushes his elbows into the mattress, hoisting himself up straight. “I’m up, sweetheart.” He pulls his hand away from your abdomen, unable to stop the small smile that forms when you whine in protest.

He bends down to press another kiss to your forehead, and you feel the upward curve of his lips against your skin. “And I don’t mind looking after you. The only thing I’m worried about right now is you not getting enough rest.”

You hum softly in response, and Remus resists the urge to cocoon you in a mountain of blankets and smother your pain away. Instead, he brushes strands of hair back from your face. “Try to sleep, please.”

“After you get me the heating pad.”

He hums indulgently, moving his hand to the nape of your neck and comfortingly brushing over the baby hairs there. “You want anything else? Chocolate, or hot tea, maybe?”

“Chocolate would be nice,” you admit.

“Then chocolate it is,” he smiles as he stands up, rounding the bed.

“Rem?”

“Yeah, dove?”

“Are you sure you can’t get me sleeping pills?”

Remus huffs out a laugh, giving your foot a warning squeeze before leaving the room.

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

Waiting for You

A Michael Gavey Drabble

Author’s Note: I guess I’m doing drabbles now? This came to me when I was in my third meeting in a row that covered the same information we got in meeting #1 lol

Summary: It’s the evening of your first date with Michael Gavey, but a phone call with your mum lasted way longer than it should have and now you’re running a little bit late. Unfortunately, you forgot your phone at your dorm, so you have no way of letting Michael know.

Waiting for You

7:15

That was the time you had agreed to meet Michael at the pub. He was completely certain about that - he’d written it in his planner, the calendar on the wall of his dorm, and his Yahoo calendar.

He looked at his watch again.

7:23

Being a few minutes late made sense, he thought. You didn’t have a car, and public transportation can be somewhat unreliable on weekends. But now, you were nearly ten minutes late. Even with imprecise bus timings, that seemed like a lot.

It certainly seemed long enough for Michael’s mind to start spiraling.

Maybe you had forgotten. Maybe you got on the wrong bus. Maybe the bus had a mechanical failure, or was stuck in unavoidable traffic.

The longer he stood there, hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers as he stared at the pavement outside the pub, the more far-fetched his thoughts became.

Maybe a faculty member had suddenly needed your help and you couldn’t say no. Maybe your bud had been in an accident. Maybe you’d been kidnapped somehow.

Maybe…

7:28

Maybe you’d realized you didn’t actually want to go out with him.

Why would you? After his outburst in the dining hall at the beginning of the year, he was infamous within your college. Everyone knew the creepy maths nerd who’d made a fool of himself on the first day.

It made perfect sense that you wouldn’t want to be seen with him. What if the essence of his social pariah-dom would rub off on you somehow, and people started treating you the way they treated him?

You wouldn’t want that. He wouldn’t want that for you.

Ditching him would be the smart move. After all, it had apparently worked well for Oliver Quick, the cunt. Maybe if you abandoned him as well, you’d also get an invite to Felix Carton’s estate for the summer. For all he knew, it was a requirement.

7:34

It had been stupid of him to even think you’d want to go out with him.

You were popular and well-liked. You were gorgeous. You were smart. All things that should have wiped Michael off your radar entirely.

But you were also kind. You were friendly to him. You talked to him.

When he asked if you wanted to study with him, you’d said yes. When he asked to exchange phone numbers, you’d said yes. And when he asked you out on a date - this date - you’d said yes.

The memory returned, even as he tried to shove it away. When he asked Oliver if he would get him another pint, he’d said yes, too.

Then, he’d abandoned him.

7:41

Apparently, this was just what happened to Michael. He found someone he liked, thought they liked him, too, then was left behind when something better turned up.

It had happened many times before, and would probably happen many times in the future.

Michael bit hard on the inside of his cheek, hoping the pain would chase away the monumental feeling of loneliness that threatened to overtake him. He should just go back to his dorm. It was pathetic to wait out here for this long. He should -

7:44

“Michael!”

He looked up and saw you running toward him, your cheeks flushed as you pushed through the crowd. When you finally stopped in front of him, panting from exertion, you grimaced slightly. He braved himself for what you would say.

“I am so, so sorry I’m late!” You said breathlessly. “My mum called, and she could talk for hours and hours if she wanted, and I tried to tell her I had to leave, but she wouldn’t…”

You half-sighed, half-groaned, rubbing your hands over your face. “And then I left my phone in my room and I couldn’t tell you I was on my way, so…”

Michael stared at you blankly as you continued to explain. He had almost completely resigned himself to the fact that you weren’t coming. But here you were.

Not only had you actually come, but you had ran to him. You were trying so hard to make him see that it wasn’t intentional. You… you were still talking.

“It’s fine,” he said, halting your babbling. “I understand.”

Your smile of relief was quite possibly the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

He laughed in awe, then tried to play it off. “My mum doesn’t know when to shut up, either.”

You laughed with him and grabbed his hand. “Still, I’m so sorry. You’ve been waiting here, probably bored out of your mind, and…”

“Nah,” he shrugged, “it’s all forgotten now.” Indeed, he could hardly remember the panicked train of thought he’d been on for the last half hour. “Thank you - for coming, I mean.”

You smiled again. “Of course! I’ve been looking forward to this.”

Without giving him time to respond, you pulled him into the pub, both of you now laughing. “Since I was late, I’m paying!”

[the-modern-typewriter]

could you write something about a vampire intentionally scaring a human? any reason works! your vampires are so fun to read 🥰

"I know you've been trying to scare me!"

"Oh?"

"It's n-not working!"

"Oh?" The vampire's eyes, in the dark and the moonlight, had the bone white gleam of a cat's. "Your heart is racing."

The protagonist swallowed. They jutted up their chin, no matter how foolish it was to further bare their throat to a vampire, even when that vampire was their older brother. "You're not going to hurt me. You'd never hurt me!"

The vampire's fangs slid out. "You really think so?"

He hopped down, off the windowsill and through the open window into the bedroom. It reminded them of all the times, growing up, that their brother had snuck back into the house through their bedroom window.

This somehow didn't feel quite the same as that, nor did the protagonist feel as unshakably safe as they had expected.

They'd always felt safe around Nick before, but it was like their brother's face had completely changed from what they recognised. His eyes burned with a cold and inhuman thirst, features too sharp and too weirdly lovely.

The protagonist took a step back, bumping into the edge of the bed behind them. "You're trying to drive me off to protect me! To get me to keep my distance."

"Am I?" The vampire straightened. He seemed to loom, despite casting no shadow, no reflection in the bedroom mirror.

The protagonist edged around the bed, keeping their attention locked on the vampire. "Uhuh."

"And yet you haven't run."

"You're my brother."

"You're an idiot."

"Runs in the family."

"Mm. How...delicious."

The protagonist's breath hitched. "Mum and dad will be furious if you hurt me."

"Mum and dad are just thrilled to have me back, have me home. Don't you know that I'm a miracle?"

The protagonist scrambled back, nearly tripping up over their gym bag on the floor.

The vampire didn't laugh, as the protagonist had half expected him to.

It was true that their parents had been - well. They definitely didn't want to hear all the reasons why it was impossible for Nick to be totally okay. All the reasons he wasn't quite like the Nick they knew. That was just going away to uni, right? Growing up! Nick was fine and all of the family's prayers had been answered.

Their older brother had always been the perfect one, so what did it matter now if he looked a little too perfect? If he moved with a little too much grace and speed?

"Don't you know," the vampire continued, "that they won't do a thing to protect you from me? They don't want me to kill you, of course not...but if there's a blood source in the family....I mean, that's convenient, right? No need to create gossip. I have to eat."

"So you are trying to scare me into leaving!"

"I'm telling you the truth about your intended purpose in this family."

"You won't hurt me, though."

"So you keep saying." The vampire prowled closer. "You must have really loved me when I was still alive."

The protagonist clenched their jaw, glaring, because it was better than flinching. "You're being stupid. Stop it."

"You're being stupid, stop it," the vampire mimicked. It always used to piss them off when their brother mocked them like that - but the voice was too accurate, too good a copy now. He didn't do that thing of making it unrealistically high pitched. His voice was too smooth. Too Not-Nick's.

Screw it.

The protagonist whirled for the bedroom door.

They'd barely turned before the vampire was there, blocking the way, leaning against the threshold. Casual.

The protagonist's heart lurched.

"Scared yet?" the vampire asked.

"No," the protagonist lied.

"Mm." The vampire was in front of them in the next blink, tilting the protagonist's head back to their expose their throat.

"W-wait!"

"Yes?"

"I'm scared." Their voice was small, pathetically so. The same voice as when they'd woken their brother up down the hall because there was a storm, or got a bad grade on a test and didn't want to bring it home to their parents and their brother found them crying. Nick had always covered for them. Always done their best to make the scary stuff go away.

It wasn't right.

"Yes," the vampire said, softly. His other hand rose, cupping the protagonist's face, giving an almost reassuring squeeze. His smile, sharp-toothed as it was, was not remotely reassuring. "I know."

Then, before the protagonist could say anything else, they bit.

The protagonist ran that night.

[verstappentime]

divorce verse for your wednesday <3 this is from after max & dan break up. (the rest of this verse is here) (the scene previous to this will get finished but this is what i have today <3) The first night Daniel’s gone, Max walks into a fucking wall trying to go to the bathroom.

It’s happened before, because his depth perception is awful and worse in the dark and worse sometimes than others, but usually he hits knee-first or something. Nope, just a wall right to the orbital bone. 

It’s not something Daniel could have saved him from, but it still doesn’t make it any easier. Daniel’s not there to be woken up by his cursing a blue streak and ask if he’s alright, to sit him down and put ice on it and make him feel less pathetic.

His head is throbbing, in a normal person kind of way. He’s going to have a massive goose egg. He finally gets to the light switch, very, very carefully, and tempts himself to go down the hall with the promise of crying about it afterward.

It’s easier, with the bedroom light illuminating the way. He makes it there and back okay. 

He needs to not call Daniel, but he’s groggy and worked up and he gets confused at night and– he’s just going to lose it if he can’t talk to someone. 

Daniel picks up on the first ring. He must still have Max excluded from do not disturb. Must be sleeping with the ringer on.

“I walked into the wall,” he says, before Daniel can get anything out. 

“What?” He can hear Daniel sitting up, sheets rustling. He should be scolding Max for calling in the middle of the night. He doesn’t. “Are you hurt?” 

“I hit my head. Or, like, my face. Both.” Max touches where the bruise is forming on his head. He kind of forgot what hurt that’s not coming from the inside feels like. He pokes it again. He’s lucky he hit on bone, probably, and that it wasn’t a corner and he’s not bleeding. “I don’t know,” he says, voice cracking. 

“Okay.” Daniel’s all calm. This kind of stuff never bothers him. Max wants him to be here. “You sound alright. You weren’t, like, running, right? Do you have a headache?”  “No. I think– I think I am okay.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, just to see how bad it hurts. “This is shit, Daniel.”

“We need to get you some of those lights you can turn on with your voice, yeah? I’ll look in the morning.” We. He’s going to have to stop that. Not right now.

“I can– I’ll do it.” 

“I’ll remind you, then. What do you want to do right now?” 

“I don’t know,” Max says again. “I don’t want to get up again.” He presses his knuckles to his teeth, something awful in his chest. “I feel shit that I called you already.” 

“I don’t care. It’s good you did. I was scared that you wouldn’t. Makes me feel better.” Daniel pauses. “Not that I’m like, glad you walked into a wall.” 

“It sounds very stupid when you say it out loud.” He knows it’s his fault, but he can’t help it: “What am I going to do? Just call you always?” 

“You can, baby.” Daniel never tells him no. Daniel let him leave because he never tells him no. “You have other people, though. They’ll be happy to answer. You can call your mum or Victoria or Charles. But also me, if you want to.” 

Max wants Daniel to tell him that’s unfair. But the idea of being cut off from the only person that really knows what it’s like for him makes him want to throw up. Charles would laugh at him for this one, even though he wouldn’t mean to. Max says, “I think I want to go back to sleep.” 

“Good idea. You want me to stay on?” 

“No. That will be very boring for you.” Max lays down, turning over on his side, his back to where Daniel should be. “Are you sleeping too?” 

“Yeah, Maxy, I’m going to.” 

“Okay. Then we will both go to sleep.” 

“Yeah,” Daniel says, all gentle. “I’m going to text you tomorrow, okay? It’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me after that. But I’ll remind you about the lights and ask about your face.” 

“That’s fine.” He can’t know if he’ll remember, and he really does not want this to happen again, and– and now he knows for sure he’ll hear from Daniel tomorrow. 

There’s a beat where neither of them know what to say, but Daniel’s the bravest and he says, “I love you. Goodnight.” 

“I– Me too, Daniel.” He can’t lie. Not about that.

[chilkookiepal]

Greedy

Pt.1

Pairing - lowkey yandere  Kim Taehyung x workaholic!Reader Kind of co-workers au Genres- yandere, comfort, angst, smut if you hold your breath

Summary ; co-worker Taehyung is the only person who makes reader feel safe in the office, he is the perfect gentleman that she falls in love with but what happens when the very trust you put in him is the one way ticket he will use to test your morals to their uncomfortable limits

note, miss gurl is terrible with summaries like I just end up spilling the entire tea whenever I try to invest into a summary 💀

Anyways This is going to be a mini series ,I pulled this one out of my 1am adrenaline and It feels like a personal attack Chile! Here's part one , I have no clue about the amount of chapters we're going to have

Word count: 900+

+. +. +.

MINORS!!GET OUTTA HERE OR IM CALLING YOUR MUM

he was daring…or unhinged who cares when the difference was all in the subtle shift in his set of behaviors towards you

the subtle way in which his dark eyes did not shy away from raking over every inch of you from head to toe

a once-over so subtle yet so affective on all parts of your being

it was as if his dark eyes knew stuff about you you had never shared with him , like the layer of clothes on your body were non existent in his eyes  , only his eyes in this room full of people

in this huge office where his girlfriend just happens to be the chippery conversationalist eager to form a friendship with you on regular work days

Hana ,she was the office crush

desired by half if not all men in the work building, she was hot , confident,outgoing ,friendly and she knew how to dress for the assets granted by her bloodline 

hell if you were a guy you'd line up as well

she was annoyingly perfect and new to your department ,endorsed by THE Kim Taehyung himself after a full year of running a different department brunch of the company , that is where the two met and formed a relationship.

YOU on the other hand had been acquainted with Taehyung the year before his initial transfer , you were an intern that year…he was your senior at work but on a dunken night you learned that you weren't so far apart in age

back then he was just your wonderful senior , he was always hot but you were never one to swoon over people who had no interest in you

so when did energies take this confusing twist?

you're not exactly sure but you can make out a vivid memory of when Taehyung took interest in the selfies you uploaded on your social media casually recommending you for image related tasks in boardroom meetings , you were pretty popular and adored around the office yourself

you were good at your job and rarely took off days , some would say you were a goodie two shoes and while you were beautiful your ability to handle hard tasks at work over shadowed your feminine value in the office .

you didn't  really know Tae out of his suit and ties while seemed to know a moderate enough about you not in a creepy manner ,he was attentive in a respectful manner that a friendly work senior would

the two of you felt far from friends hence you knew next to nothing about him

many of your male coworkers would try to make you feel less than or just attempt to reduce you to a bimbo in your early days but you had him , he was respectful and he spoke in your advocacy when it was necessary

you never felt ridiculed by him and maybe you began to like him ,

you were pretty obvious , warmed by his gentle gaze and the way he gave you all his attention , at other times you could swear you thought he felt the same and you would idiotically turn down guys to wait for him

for unspoken soft gazes sent your way by Taehyung

you're embarrassed for your pathetic self when you forget to transfer a file that needed to be reviewed over night in the office and have to go back after making it pretty close to home  

in your sweaty glory with your blouse stuck to your skin and your heart hammering in your ears you want to believe that your eyes are on a different level of tripping when you walk past the conference room where a nest of dark long hair hides the face of the woman being pleasured into moonlight and you are ready to tiptoe away when something about the man with his face hidden in the crook of her neck  keeps you rooted

and if you felt sick the next set of moments make you want to vomit projectile

the man raises his head eyebrows scrunched in concentration or pleasure…,damned dark eyes heavy with lone hairs from his usually gelled back jet black hair sticking to his forehead in a dangerous way that you did not need to know of , it's when he stares between himself and the woman in front of him that his lips curl in a heart wrenching smirk inflicting a mortal wound as his eyes meet yours that are getting teary for reasons unknown to you yourself .

….

to be continued.

[dollypopup]

Forgive the rant, but it's been weighing heavy on my heart. So much of the speculation of the Lady Whistledown reveal is the nail biting of 'Oh, I hope it's not too bad for Pen!' or justifying how her actions as LW actually weren't that bad in hopes to minimize the fallout

But there seems to be so little care to the fact that Penelope hiding it from him is going to break Colin's heart.

He is so elated to be with Penelope because he feels like this is the one person he can truly unmask with, that he can reveal all his cards to, and be accepted, and he is going to realize that is a one sided feeling in his relationship. Not only did Penelope feel she couldn't unmask in the past, but she feels she cannot do so even after their engagement. Even after he has reassured her of how much he cares for her and how much he trusts her.

I know everyone wants to skip over the angst of it and get to the 'oh look, they're so happy in love!' but y'all

Penelope is going to hurt him. He put his heart in her hands and she's going to crush it. He's going to have to look in the eye the fact that she didn't trust him enough to inform him of this very large part of her life, and he's going to understand that she kept it from him purposefully. Yes, she has her reasons, but like. . .that's painful. It's a slap in the face. Is it fully understandable her not telling him right after he asks? Or before? Of course! A lot happened! She had the most intimate experience of her life in the back of that carriage, and she'd gone through a lot of ups and downs that night, but after that excitement simmered and she had a chance to breathe, she should have told him.

But she doesn't.

Worse, she decides he simply doesn't have to know.

The fact that Eloise has to put an ultimatum on it at all is proof of that. Colin is falling in love with half of Penelope, and she's making it so that he does so on purpose. She is actively hiding half of herself from his eyes, and regardless of reason, when one party of the relationship is open and vulnerable, and the other is secretive, the secretive party is doing their partner a disservice.

Right now the person who has poured the work into the relationship is Colin. He has confessed his feelings first, he made all the big moves, he openly declared his interest in her, he proposed, he proved to her that he finds her desirable, he has hit every single love language in the BOOK. He's said repeatedly how wonderful she is, he's given her an engagement ring, bought them a house, he's chased down her carriage, he asked for those lessons to spend more time with her, he's had physical touch aplenty.

But I feel like so much of us as an audience are riding on the fact that we know Penelope has pined for Colin for a long time, and not understanding that Colin does not know that. And even if he does, she has not shown him that she loves him.

And I need to see Penelope pour into him an equitable amount as he's poured into her. They're both two people who embody 'I want to be so full of love, I forget what it's like to be hungry', and we forget that both of them have been denied affection. This fandom sympathizes the most with Penelope to the point where we don't want to see that Colin has also been pushed to the wayside. This man is starving for love and romance. Not just to love, but also to be loved.

People forget that Colin has been denied affection from his family, from his sexual experiences, even from Penelope. She didn't write back to him the same way his siblings didn't. Colin has been disparaged in his household, too. He's been made to feel like a burden, like he has no right to family funds, hell, he was all but called a pathetic virgin in Season 1 by his own brother, the head of his household, and his mum and Daphne and Anthony all assumed that he needed his messes cleaned up for him and he says aloud no one takes him seriously.

I want to see Colin be loved. I need to see it.

It's not a scorecard, I get that, but if you look at it objectively, Colin has done so much in his relationship with Pen, and she's lying to him. She's keeping from him a secret that reinforces what others have said of him: that he's gullible, naive, too trusting, someone that needs his muck ups solved for him, just a foolish boy caught up in his fantasies. And when the truth of Penelope's deception comes out, and he's going to question if all those people were right all along, and questioning his trust in himself (because, mind, this is the second woman who has said she loves him and has been keeping a huge secret from him, if that happened to me, I'd be closing my heart off for a very long time), he's going to need her to mend the wound that she'll pry open.

Colin said a hurtful thing about Penelope in Season 2, and then spent Part 1 of Season 3 soothing the pain that caused her. Now, Penelope is doing a hurtful thing to Colin, and she will have to heal that hurt, too. He is a tender, soft-hearted person who trusts her completely, and is falling arse over elbow for her, only to then get tripped up on her own web of wires and do a barrel roll in the dirt. And I know they'll choose each other, I know.

But after she helps him up, I need to see Penelope romance Mr. Bridgerton, assuredly, fervently, loudly.

Because he deserves to be.

[didhewinkback]

love of my life

a something old one shot about wembley week.

word count: 4k somehow ?, there's smut

---

2014

He collapses into the backseat of the car, clenching his eyes shut as another cough wracks through his body, trying in vain to take deep breaths through his stuffy nose, feeling so frustrated he could scream if not for the hoarseness in his throat. He had dreamt of this night since he was a little kid, never thinking it would ever actually happen and then when it finally did he didn’t even get to enjoy it properly, didn’t get a chance to celebrate that his years of hard work, resilience and sacrifice had actually paid off. 

Instead he had to spend every minute on that stage trying to stay upright, his fever addled brain working overtime to remember lyrics, stand at the right spot, gasp for breath between a congested nose and a never ending rotation of cough drops. 

Once the tears start they don’t stop, feeling so pathetic and angry and heartbroken, all he can do is curl in on himself and wish his mum were with him. Why couldn’t he have been this ill in Madrid? Or Kansas City? Or Perth? Why did it have to be fucking Wembley? 

His phone buzzes in his hand, disrupting his never ending train of miserable thoughts. It’s you, checking in. He was supposed to go out with you and Johnny after the show, supposed to celebrate the biggest night of his career. He can’t believe you guys came out to see him on stage like that, a wave of embarrassment rolling through him as he imagines what you must think. 

He starts rapid fire texting you back, apologizing for the show, apologizing for leaving early and missing the afterparty, just apologizing. He’s not even sure what he’s saying at this point, just knows that he is sorry and embarrassed and wants to be home alone in his bed. You’re trying to keep up with his texts, trying your best to assure him that he has nothing to be sorry about, that it was still a good show, that you’re sorry for him, that’s not his fault he’s been overworked and was too sick to perform, asking if there’s anything you can do. Offering company if he needs someone to talk to because he’s right, it’s fucked that this was the show he had to be ill for, that he didn’t deserve to have it happen this way. 

And he knows he should talk it out, knows there’s few things that make him feel better than having you as a sounding board but right now he feels so shit and just wants to stop thinking about it. He apologizes again and turns his phone off, leaning his burning head against the cool window. He knows he’s wallowing, he knows he’s so lucky to be doing even a fraction of what he has done it’s just …

It was headlining Wembley fucking Stadium. When will he ever get the chance to do something like that again?

2023

The screams of the crowd start to fade into the background as he sprints backstage, handing his mic pack over to Steve from sound and leaning in to mutter a request to Paddy before ducking into his dressing room, leaning against the door once it’s closed. Trying to catch his breath from the sprint, from this night, from this week. He shakes off the rain and closes his eyes, doing his damndest to commit every feeling flashing through him to memory, trying to relive each moment on stage that took his breath away, to think about in the years to come. Knowing he’ll never be this young on tour again, never this limber, never be with this exact group of people at this exact time ever again. 

It was the best night of his entire life. 

It hasn’t felt like that before. The love radiating towards him was palpable, he could feel it in the air, and he did everything to send it right back out. It was almost too much for one person to hold, he had no choice but to try to put it directly towards the people who helped get him here, shouting out his friends and family in the audience more than he ever has because he owes them everything and he wanted to share this feeling with them.

It was overwhelming, it was exhilarating and it was fun. It’s never been that fun. Gratitude flows through him as tears prick his eyes, his breath catching in his throat. How lucky he is to get to do this for a job, how lucky that this many people want to see his show, how lucky that he’s got this band and this crew working alongside him. How lucky, how lucky, how lucky. 

He stands there for several minutes, taking deep breaths, reliving the best parts of the show, how it felt to sing Gemma’s song to her, to get to thank the friends that took him in when he was young and alone in a big city for the first time, to get to thank the friends that loved him from the start, before he grew into the man who would perform in front of 90,000 people four nights in a row. He’s practically choking on the emotion now, feeling more alive than he’s ever felt, the happiest he’s ever been, just grateful for this moment and this life when a series of knocks snaps him out of his haze. 

“I’ve been summoned,” he hears you say on the other side of the door and if he could grin any wider, his face would split in half. 

He swings open the door and there you are. The rain did nothing to dampen how beautiful you look tonight, wearing one of his favorite sundresses of yours, your eyes as red-rimmed with tears as he imagines his are. You take him in for a moment, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as your breath catches and you shake your head in disbelief, seemingly as shocked and stunned by the night as he is. 

“That was…” you start to say but drift off, emotion clogging the words in your throat as you just stare at him.

“I know.” 

“Just like…what the fuck?” you say and it shocks a laugh out of him, his head tilting back and shoulders shaking. He watches the smile grow on your face and that’s when you launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding tight. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close, lifting you slightly off the ground as he pulls you into the room and kicks the door shut behind you. 

“‘M sweaty,” he warns and it just makes you tighten your arms around him more. 

“Don’t care,” you say softly. “I’m so, so proud of you.” 

And suddenly, he’s at a loss for words again. Not able to think about anything but how you feel in his arms, your steady heartbeat tethering him to the moment, the praise you’re murmuring in his ears making him feel warm all the way down to his toes. He’s overwhelmed at the thought of how much this week has felt like coming home, finally. Like the biggest, warmest welcome back to a place he has had to leave more often than he would ever like to. He felt it monumentally, magnanimously on stage and now he feels it here, on a much smaller scale, in the way your nails feel scratching against his scalp, the fabric of your damp dress against the bare skin of his chest, the sound of your voice in his ear. 

“It’s never felt like that before. Watching you.” you say, pulling your head back to look at him, warm eyes full of affection and it almost makes him preen.  He just had 90,000 pairs of eyes on him but being the center of your attention is what makes his heart skip a beat. 

“Was unreal, wasn’t it?” he says, skin warming under your gaze, knowing the words are wholly inadequate to sum up how this night has felt but selfishly wanting you to keep talking about it, not ready for the show to become a distant memory quite yet. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you that happy up there. That free. Just like completely in your element.” you say, a smile growing on your face as you huff a sheepish laugh at yourself. “Think I started crying the second you walked out there and didn’t really stop. You’ve turned me into the weepy girlfriend and for that I will never forgive you.”  

He laughs, lowering you to the ground in favor of bringing his hands up to cup your face, thumbs rubbing over the tear tracks there as you slide your hands down his back to wrap around his waist.

“Liked the show, then?” he asks, and by the roll of your eyes, he knows you know what he’s doing and he knows you’ll indulge him all the same.

“I loved it,” you say sincerely, the love in your eyes making him feel weak in the knees. “I love you.”

He closes the distance between you without a second thought, doing his best to express himself through every drag of his lips against yours. This has never felt like this before either, to get to be with someone who loves and supports him the way you do. Who knows him so well, who has seen the good, bad and the ugly and instead of taking off and running, just loves him harder, louder, fiercer. Adrenaline spikes through his veins as he deepens the kiss, his tongue curling against yours in a way that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. 

He walks you backward until you're pressed against the door and he’s pressed against you, not an inch of space between you. He pulls away from your mouth to kiss along your jaw and down your neck, paying special attention to the spots he’s become familiar with, the ones that make you sigh into his ear, a sound that replays in his mind over and over whenever he’s missing you late at night. 

He feels himself getting hard against your thigh, no longer thinking of anything but how you taste, how you smell, how you feel. He loves you, more than he’s ever loved another person, more than he ever thought himself capable of. The temporarily dormant energy from the stage comes flooding back and he knows he’s got a room full of people waiting upstairs to celebrate with him but right now, he just needs you close. He needs you now. 

“Did you want to keep talking about the show?” you ask, your breath catching in your throat and it makes his heart skip a beat, your familiarity with his favorite post show routine making him melt as he shakes his head, not willing to pause his ministrations against your skin. 

It’s one of the things he loves doing most when you’re on tour with him, spending time after the really good shows to dissect his favorite bits and hear all of yours, hear how much you loved it, loved him. He knows if he said that’s what he wants to do right now you’d happily pull away and indulge him with detailed answers about how the show felt from your point of view, your favorite note changes, the jokes that made you laugh the most but it’s not what he wants right now. All he wants is you. 

“If we had more time, I’d get on my knees for you.” he mumbles against your neck, tongue darting out to suck at your skin. 

“Funny, I was just going to say the same thing.” you say back, making him groan, his hands falling to your hips, pulling you close. “But the party started already -”

“Yeah but I am the boss,” he says, feeling high off this night, off you. “So the party really doesn’t start until I say so.”

“I hate how much you loved saying that,” you say with a laugh, your hands sliding over his chest. You dig your nails in when he bites down on your neck and he feels like he’s on fire.

“Think y’ liked it a little bit,” he says, pulling away from your neck to kiss you deeply, hand sliding down to squeeze your ass.

“Can feel myself drying up as we speak.” you say and he sputters out a laugh, giving you a cheeky spank when he feels you laughing against him. 

“That sounds like a bloody lie,” he mumbles against your mouth, his hand sliding from your ass to your thigh, hastily pulling up your dress, dragging his fingers across your skin once he has access to it. He pulls back slightly to look at your face, your swollen lips and blown out eyes. You’re the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He slides his fingers over your core, smirking when you gasp, feeling how wet you are through your underwear. “Feels like one too.”

“Told you.” you say, and you’ve got that look in your eyes that’s his kryptonite, looking at him like you’re going to eat him alive and it stokes the fire already burning in his belly. He doesn’t even have to hear the next words come out of your mouth, he knows he’s already done for. “I really liked the show.” 

He crashes his mouth to yours, pulling kiss after kiss from your plush lips, his hips rolling against yours when you moan into his mouth. He snaps the waistband on your underwear, doing his best to help you pull it off without straying too far from your lips, pulling you back into him once you kick it off your ankles. 

“Off. Take this off.” you mumble against his mouth, already pushing the straps of his dungarees down.

“Hang on, there’s a zipper -” He squeezes your thigh before reaching around the back of his dungarees, hastily unzipping to help you ease the trousers down his hips, pausing when you do, your hands stilling on his skin. He looks up at your face to find you staring at his cock, an unreadable expression on your face. 

“Are you - are you not wearing pants?” you ask breathlessly, a surprised laugh breaking through your words. 

“You did say I was freer than ever on that stage -” 

“Oh my god, I am not having sex with you anymore -”

“Heeey.” he says, unable to stop the smile growing on his face at the sound of your laugh. He smacks a kiss to your cheek as he pulls his dungarees all the way down, leaving them pooling at his ankles. It looks ridiculous but he’s too turned on to care, stomach flipping when you slide your hands on his skin, fingers dancing over his obliques, nails digging into his pecs. 

“Can’t believe you were freeballing at Wembley.” you say as he snorts, grabbing your thigh to hitch it over his hip, leaning in to capture your lips with his. 

You pull the hem of your dress up with one hand as you slide the other to the back of his neck, gripping hard when he swipes his fingers through your folds, lightly circling your clit. He’d do just about anything to make you moan into his mouth like that, fingers playing with you a little longer than necessary until you bite down on his lip in impatience. 

“Ready?” he mumbles against your mouth.

“Been ready since half past eight.” you shoot back as he huffs a laugh. “Need you.”

“Y’ have me, baby. Y’ have me.” he mutters nonsensically, quickly pulling his fingers away and using them to guide his cock against your core, both of you moaning at the sensation before he guides himself into you, choking on air when he thrusts all the way in. 

White hot heat sears through him and he has to clench his eyes shut, your warmth and wetness almost too much to bear. He could stay here forever he thinks, feeling you clench around him, moaning lowly in his ear. This is it for him. Until - 

“H. Move.” 

He opens his eyes, the look on your face taking his breath away as he starts to thrust into you, lips falling to any part of your skin he can reach. 

“Watching me on stage got y’ this wet?” he grunts out. “All this for me?”

“Always.” you breathe out, pulling him in closer. “You looked so good up there. You did so good. Made me so proud -”

“Baby -” he leans in to kiss you deeply, tongue messily swiping over yours as he grabs your thigh, adjusting the angle in a way that makes you both moan. 

He rests his forehead against yours, watching the way every thrust, drag and swivel of his hips hurdles you closer and closer to the edge, your eyes fluttering closed when he hits it just right. Everything else fades away and all that matters is the feeling of your tight, hot cunt, and those quiet sounds you can’t stop making. You slide your hand down his arm until it settles on his tattoo of your initial, pressing your thumb into the skin and he almost bursts on the spot. 

“That’s right, baby. ‘S all for you.” he moans out, biting down on your jaw when you clench around him. “‘M all yours. ‘M all yours. ‘M all yours.”

He slides his hands around your waist, sliding down to your ass as he grips and lifts you up, bringing your other thigh up to settle around his hips. You gasp against his mouth as he holds you up,  pressing you further into the door. 

“This okay?” he pants out.

“Yeah - please. H - I’m -” you lean in to kiss him as he starts to move again, the new angle making him glide across your clit in a way that has you biting down on his lips. 

“Baby, I’m -”

“Me too. Doing so good.” you say as he digs his fingers into your skin, his thrusts becoming more and more erratic, sparks shooting down his spine as he flies towards the edge. 

“Need you to come first. Can y’do that for me?” he grunts out, gritting his teeth to swivel his hips in the way he knows will get you there, watching the way your mouth drops open, blown out eyes never wavering from his. 

You lean in to nip at his bottom lip, one hand sliding up to rest at the base of his throat, the other sliding down to rub circles on your clit as he tightens his hold on you, arm muscles bulging as he gives it to you as best he can.  He picks up his pace and you lightly squeeze down on his throat as he moans, fire licking up his spine at the sensation. Everything’s warm, hot, wet.  All he can feel, smell, taste and touch is you. He doesn’t know how it can get any better than this, and then you squeeze down a little harder, leaning in to bite at his earlobe before whispering: 

“You’re the boss.” 

Jesus fuck.

That’s it. He can’t hold on any longer, a moan punching out of him as he comes hard, seeing stars as he grunts against your skin, feeling you follow suit quickly after, the way you clench around him as you come has him biting down on the skin of your neck, nails digging into your thigh. 

That was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to him, is still happening to him, he feels like he’s coming forever as his body shakes with aftershocks, tongue darting out to suck at the skin of your neck as you both try to catch your breath, chests heaving. 

After a few moments, he pulls back to look at you, eyes roaming over the blissed out look on your face as he leans in to kiss you softly, lips dragging against yours once, twice, three times before he feels you laugh, leaning back to look at you. 

“What?” he asks, begs more like, desperate to know what’s going on in your brain, always. It’s something he never had this much exclusive access to before and now that he has, he’s addicted. He plants a line of kiss across your face as you giggle, arms tightening around your waist. 

“You’re so easy,” you say, looking at him with mirth in your eyes. “All I had to do is say one little word and you just -”

“Heey,” he says, laughing when you do. “‘S not what happened.” 

The dubious look on your face makes him pause, he can feel warmth blooming on his cheeks as he shrugs. 

“‘M mean, it definitely helped.” he says, watching the way your tongue slides out to lick your lips, helpless to do anything but kiss you again before pulling back to mumble against your mouth: “I was done for the second you said watching me up there made y’ wet.”

“Liked that, did you?”

“Liked all of it.” he says, eyes never wavering from yours, still feeling the ghost of your hand on his neck right before he came. He kisses along your neck, nuzzling his head there and breathing deep. “Still inside you. Could go again. Just keep calling me the boss, I’ll be ready in no time.”

You laugh and shove his shoulder as he giggles, smacking a kiss to your cheek as he slowly pulls out, lowering you back to the ground on your own two feet. 

“I’m not going to be the reason you miss the chance to run around an empty stadium with all your mates. It’s your favorite bit.” 

There’s just something to that, something he’s never experienced before. You say it so nonchalantly, as you bend down to pick up your underwear off the floor, muttering about needing to find something to clean yourself off with and he just stands there, naked in the middle of his dressing room, his dungarees still at his ankles and all he wants to do is throw away all those plans he made and get down on one knee right here. 

He won’t do that, the ring isn’t ready yet and he’s already planned and replanned everything ten times over, he thinks with a shake of his head, kicking the dungarees all the way off and heading over to his bag, pulling on a pair of briefs and joggers as his mind whirls. 

It’s just - there is something to being known the way you know him, really know him, not in the way everyone out there thinks they do but it’s like - you understand him. You see him for who he is beyond the sold out stadiums and awards and screaming fans. You see who he is in the littlest of moments, the small habits he hadn’t really known he had but you’ve picked up on because you pay attention to him, because you love him. To be this known and this loved is something he’s never experienced before, a safety net he’s never had before. 

Everything in his life has been in a constant state of change, living a nomadic lifestyle since he was just a teenager but this week, these shows, these crowds, this city, have given him a sense of belonging he hadn’t known he was craving, hadn’t known he was missing. The fear that this could all go away in an instant, which he once thought was a permanent state of existence, of living, of being has become a small voice in the background.  

He’s not afraid of losing everything because he has you, he trusts you, he loves you and he knows you’re not going anywhere. And you - you are everything. 

He’s so lost in his own head he barely registers the sounds of the sink in the adjoining bathroom, barely hears you gripe “All the foundation in the world couldn’t cover these love bites so cheers for that”, barely feels your eyes on him as you make your way back into the dressing room. 

“Hey,” you say softly, stepping into his eyeline as you stand in front of him, hands coming up to his face, thumb wiping away the tears that had fallen unbeknownst to him. “You alright?” 

“Yeah,” he says, blinking back the tears as he smiles at you, taking a deep breath. “Just overwhelmed.”

“It’s been a big night. Big week.” you say and he nods, wrapping his arms around your waist as your hand finds its place in his hair, fingers running through the strands in his favorite pattern. “You deserve all of it. Every bit.” 

“Couldn’t have done this without you, you know.” 

“H -”

“‘M serious, just let me -”  he says, shaking his head, wanting to get the words right, knowing he won’t be able to express more than a fraction of what he means, what you mean. “Y’ make me feel like I can do anything because you love me. ‘Nd I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to explain to you properly how that makes me feel but I - I just really love you. I’ve never been loved the way you love me. ‘Nd I’ve never, ever loved anyone the way I love you.”

He watches as tears fill your eyes, the way you’re looking at him in awe, in love, it’s a look he wishes he could bottle up forever. You lean up to kiss him and he pulls you in closer, getting lost in the feeling of your lips against his, your hand in his hair, how he can feel your heartbeat racing. 

“I love you so much,” you say when you pull back slightly, “You’ll never -”

“I feel it, love. Promise I feel it. Promise I know.” he murmurs, pulling you in and kissing you again, just needing you as close as possible. 

“We have to get out of here and you have to put on a shirt,” you mumble in between kisses, “or we will never leave.” 

“Won’t see me complaining.”

“Everyone’s waiting to celebrate you,” you say, pulling back but he follows you, kissing along your jawline. “And we can continue our own celebration later, yeah? I’m not going anywhere. We’ve got time.” 

He pulls back at that, eyes grazing over your features before leaning in to kiss you again, humming into it, thinking he’s never heard anything sweeter in his life. 

You’re not going anywhere and you’ve got time. 

It’s so simple but it feels so right, he thinks as he releases his hold on your waist and quickly slips into his jacket, looking up at you to find your hand extended, waiting for his. He slips his hand into yours, interlocking your fingers and squeezing once. 

A rush of emotions washes over him. He feels everything, all at once from this night, this week, this year, this tour. And here you are, here you’ve been, holding onto his hand. Not going anywhere. He wants to tell you everything this means to him, wants to marry you yesterday, start a family, wants to do it all with you. But he’s got an empty stadium with his favorite people waiting for him, waiting to celebrate the greatest night of his career, of his life. And you’ll be next to him the whole time. 

It’s like you’ve said, you’ve got time.

---

taglist:@tobesolovelysstuff, @louyoursins, @daydreamingofmatilda, @jojo-blog53, @marzhshaim, @devilsqueen722, @just-happiness-only,@lomlhstyles, @feestyles, @spock4presidnet, @sunshinemoonsposts, @indierockgirrl, @jerseygirlinca, @kissitnhekitchen, @goldnrry,

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

TOO TIRED

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!reader Summary: you're too tired to do anything and Eddie can't help but suspect something else going on. Warnings: mentions of divorced parents, abuse, crying, SH. blood

the cold evening air of your room tried comforting you, but your body was burning and was useless against the heat of your shaking body.

the silence of your room made your cries echo, sending shivers down your spine.

the way your body shook along with your sobs made you feel pathetic, and it was a given that if anyone saw you like this, they would think the same, that you were absolutely pitiable but didn't deserve the pity.

you were curled up on your bed, crying your heart out at something that anyone would say was small, that there was no reason for crying about.

but there you were, in your bed, your blankets abandoned on to the floor as you wanted to scream in your pillow, the slight lines of blood staining the white of your pillow as it dampened with your tears.

the stinging on your arms and thighs felt 100 times worse than usual.

but you seemed to freeze when you heard the phone start to ring from downstairs.

your mum had left to go to the mall and your brother went out for a run to cool off as your sister was at your dad's house, leaving you alone in your stress and troubles.

you let it ring until it stopped before you felt yourself start to drift off, but it started to ring again.

you lazily got up, sniffling back more tears as you trailed down the stairs to the phone, your feet stomping heavily as your got to the yucky red coloured phone on the wall, you picked it up, taking a deep breath as you heard a sigh on the other line

"____ Residence, how may I help you?" you rubbed your temple, a massive headache starting, making you feel dizzy.

"is that my beautiful girl I've been waiting to hear from?" you heard

"yeah" you said blankly, you surely didn't feel beautiful in the moment, your eyes puffy and a bright, deep red, your hair knotted all over the place as thick red liquid dripping from your wrists.

but Eddie didn't seem phased by your bluntness, he must not have noticed

"so I was wondering if you wanted to come over and hang out, I rented our favourite movie, we could go out to the record store and buy some tapes and we could either go out or order dinner" he suggested

"I'm tired, Eds" you responded, feeling your eye lids getting heavy

"of what, darling?" he questioned, his voice soft and worried, scared of the answer

"everything" you sigh "can we just do this another time, maybe Monday?"

"you're saying it'll take 2 days for you to not be tired? what's wrong darling?" you could hear the concern in his voice as he spoke carefully

"nothing, Eddie, I'm just tired and want to go to sleep, there's nothing wrong, I'm fine" you tried reassuring him.

the last thing you wanted was to make Eddie worried about you, because he's always had it worse than you.

you didn't want to complain about your parents because he didn't have any.

you didn't want to tell him your brother abused you, because he has been abused in almost every way.

you didn't want him to see the scars and fresh cuts on your forearms, because you had seen all of his, and they weren't just thin long dashes.

you didn't want to show him the bruises that scattered around your body, because he wore them almost every day as a kid.

"alright then, well uh- I'll talk to you later then I guess. I love you" he breathed heavily

"love you too" you yawned before hanging up.

but Eddie didn't care what you said, he got his jacket before grabbing his keys of his car, running out to his van before driving to your house, almost speeding.

after the phone call, you couldn't walk up the stairs, your legs gave up after the first step, so you weren't to the next room to lay on the couch, trying to sleep.

the baggy shorts hung low on your hips as your shirt clung to your sweaty frame.

you got up and stalked to the door after hearing the bang on the door.

you opened the door slowly, looking down at your feet. you noticed the dirty white reeboks only inches away from your socked feet,

you looked up quickly to see Eddie staring at you with his eyebrows raised. you went to shut the door but he held it open. his hand gripping the door as he slipped his foot between the door at the frame.

"have you been crying?" he asked, looking in your eyes.

"no" you shook your head, looking away from him

"please talk to me, I'm here for you, you know that" he pleaded, pushing the door open when your hands slipped from the handle

"I'm fine" you huffed

"I don't believe that"

"just go home, please" you begged, folding your arms against your chest, hugging yourself for comfort.

he stepped in the door and shut the door behind him, bringing you into a hug

"we don't have to talk about it" he shrugged

you starting sobbing in his chest as he rubbed the small of your back.

you breathed onto his chest as you grabbed onto his shirt.

"can we go home?" you choked

"this is your home" he responded in a confused manner

"this isn't home, I wanna go to your trailer"

"you don't wanna stay here?" he tilted his head

"please" you cried

"ok, yeah, go get what you need" he stepped away from you, you grabbed his hand and started walking to the front door

"I only need you" you whispered, and even though you were in this state, that still managed to put a small smile on Eddie's face

-

it wasn't until you walked into his trailer that Eddie noticed the scratches, bruises and scars on your body. it wasn't hidden but he was just more focused on your tears than your body

"ok seriously, what happened? what are all these?" Eddie sighed, holding you inches away from him

"is this why you didn't want to stay there?" he questioned

you only nodded as your nose began to feel fuzzy and your eyes starting to sting, you were going to break again.

"I don't wanna stay there, I want them gone" you whined

"who gone?" he leaned down to level with you

"them, My mum, Brother, Dad, Sister. I can't deal with it anymore. don't make me go back" you began shaking again.

"who did this?" he motioned to the marks on your body

"mum blames me for it" you admitted as your lip quivered

"for this?"

"for my brothers behaviour, says I'm gonna be like him when I grow up and keeps yelling and screaming at me" you wept

"she did this?" he rubbed your shoulder, being gentle of the growing bruise on your collarbone

"no" you whimpered "my brother did"

Eddie's jaw clenched as he inhaled sharply

"how often does he uh- hurt you?" he bit his lip, scared of the answer

"this was the second time" you whispered

you reached for him but he noticed your wrists before he pulled you in

"he did that too?" he grabbed your hands, holding them to give him a better view of your forearms

"it's too much, he's yelling and screaming every night, Mum get's mad at me for it and starts yelling at me, I try getting my sister to leave, I don't want it to be like this anymore, I want it to go away" you sobbed

"you did this?" he murmured, his voice barely audible to your ears as you wailed in front of him, your trembling body making it hard for you to stand as you felt dizzy again

Eddie held on your waist lightly, weary for any marks in that area as he led you to his bed and let you rest on his soft dark sheets.

he went to his bathroom, coming back with a dripping rag in his hand, he sat beside you as he held you arms, wiping the semi-dried blood off your wrists

"please don't do this to yourself, you're marking yourself forever with these and you don't want to look down at these in a few years and remember why you got them, I'll always be here to listen to you." he started

"I love you and I'd do anything to make you feel safe, even if it's from your own family. I want you to be happy, even if you somehow get it with me. understand?" he said sternly

"yeah" you nodded, flinching at the slight sting

he leaned in to your head and placed a kiss to your temple

"I'm gonna go, order us some pizza, we can watch a movie, eat ice cream and just go to sleep, that sound good?" he raised his eyebrows

"yeah, great" you yawned, the hot, salty tears dripping into your mouth

Eddie kissed your cheek and he brushed your hair out of your face.

"I'll be right back" he smiled at you warmly. he pulled off one of his rings and slipped it on your finger.

he walked out of his room and you heard him calling the pizza place before you slowly dozed off, your eyelids giving up on staying open.

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

this was mostly for my comfort because something like that happened to me, but I didn't have anyone to comfort me. anyway, I'm sorry if you don't feel safe in your own home, home is a place where you should feel the safest but that's not always the case.

[nonamegirlxsturniolo]

Only you can stop it..

Warnings: Past trauma with an alcoholic mum,anxiety and a bit of a mention of physical abuse.

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

(This is based on my own experience! Writing is how I deal with this sort of stuff! I will be writing other stories that aren’t as sad 😃)

As my shaking hands press button by button on my ice cold phone screen, the melancholic and pathetic feel gets worse as the memories take over my brain.. my body..

I type and type away trying to reach Matt..he’s not answering calls. Why is he so busy.. ? He always answers.. It’s 2:33 am. That’s why.

I decided to give him one last call, it’s like the shameful and crestfallen feeling has been lifted. The sound of his voice brings me so much comfort.. making me forget about the horrible memories of my mother..the alcoholic,the screaming,the sirens..the blood stains I had to clean when I was 13

The weary exhausted voice answers from the other side of the line.. “Hello..?”

I’n in such a state I can’t even form a coherent sentence.. “Matt! P-panic..flashbacks!” I say quickly with incoherent crying, knowing he knows what I ment..

I hear him on the other side of the line jump up from his bed and the sound of his closet opening “Oh honey..breathe for me okay.. and stay on the line” I hear him say whiles the ruffles sound of him grabbing his keys is in the background

I clutch my hand to my chest trying my best to breath.. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry Matt I’m so sorry!” I apologise for waking him and putting all this pressure of my panic on him..

“Hey! Don’t be.. I’m your boyfriend..I’m supposed to look after you..I’m here to help you, you’re not alone anymore..” he says this in such a softly spoken way .. I feel so safe just listening to him.. “I’ll be there soon my love..”

——————————————

AH! Sorry it was short! But like.. was that okay..? It’s my first time writing and putting it on the internet..

PLEASE GIVE ME IDEAS 😭🙏🙏

Also let me know if you want a pt.2

[julibellule]

“I’m gay,” Stede says. Then, more loudly, for everyone to hear: “I’m gay.”

Mum is beside herself, close to ripping the pearls from her throat. “Stede, please–”

“Oh, right, please what, mum? Please stop being gay? Please be gay a little more quietly? Or just please stop existing? Stop being you because you’re such an embarrassment? Don’t you think I noticed your expression when I came downstairs to find you when you were having a party, and I’d had a nightmare, and all I wanted was my parents, but instead you both looked at me like I was a piece of turd on the bottom of your shoe? Don’t look at me like that, mum! You know it’s true! I’ve always been a disappointment to you– and even more for dad,” Stede rushes, now looking at his father, “Dad of the year award goes to you, by the way, doesn’t it? Telling your son right to his face that he’s a pathetic disappointment? I mean, wow! I’m guessing you got that from your old man and figured that it was only fair you inflicted that pain on me, too? Well guess what, I have kids now, and I wouldn’t dream of talking to them like that! And that’s coming from me, an already– pretty shitty father! I’ve learned too much from you, but not so much that I couldn’t find my way to being happy eventually–"

“Stede, stop this.”

“Oh, what, am I embarrassing you, dad?” Stede demands a little hysterically. Very hysterically, actually, and he’s let go of Ed’s hand in favour of waving his arms about madly. “Am I embarrassing you with my big gayness? Am I even more of a disappointment now? Bet you couldn’t imagine it, could you? Or maybe you could– maybe that’s why you put me through all that shit, maybe you were trying to get all the gay out of me–”

“You’re just embarrassing yourself, Stede.”

“No, I’m absolutely not, thank you very much! And I’m not embarrassing the people who genuinely care about me here! Mary, am I embarrassing you?”

“Nope.”

“Ed?”

Ed clears his throat. “Nah. Pretty hot, actually.”

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[eris-snow]

Hi I was thinking if you could do aizawa having a sibling or daughter. Like a younger sister or daughter who he teaches and do some type of angst with them. Like him not paying much attention to her or she’s caught doing something (like smoking,drugs). Something like that. Thank you ❤️

I’m not comfortable writing any mentions about underage smoking or drinking (cause I assume that she's still in high school when this scene occurs) but I’ll try to make it up by making y/n kind of ‘bad girl’ ish!

I don't condone underage smoking or underage drinking. Please take care of your body :D

Note for the requester below!

Tags: daughter!yn, Aizawa, angst

“So, mind explaining what that was?” Aizawa asks, sighing as he pinches the bridge of his nose as he closes his room door in the dorms of Class A.

You think it's ironic because, even as his daughter, you’ve only seen this place once.

Your arms are littered with scars, a nasty bruise already forming on your cheek at where you’ve been punched. It throbs, sure, but it's nothing compared to your father's words.

No, his words are a knife to the chest. They’d make your heart bleed so much more than any quirk every could.

“Don’t want to,” You grouse, shrugging of your school bag. It lands on the ground with a loud thud as you try to reach for the door handle. A hand shoots out to grab yours firmly, making you freeze in your spot.

“May be I should have rephrased my statement,” Your father growls. “Tell me what happened, Y/n.”

His grip is controlled, gentle but firm in a way that makes you want to scoff. So he only cares now, when you kick up a fuss.

How flippant.

And yet, a small part of your mind still cowers at Aizawa’s anger. Your father’s icy wrath can be as cold as a snowstorm or as explosive as Bakugou, and you’re already anticipating and analyzing different ways you could mould yourself back into the person he wants you to be.

Pathetic.

“Nothing happened,” You mutter, not daring to move. “All I did was lose control a little, that’s all—”

“You picked a fight with my student, Y/n!” Aizawa raised his voice, causing tears to prickle your eyes. “Bakugou’s a ticking time bomb that blows up every 10 minutes. You know that, and you still did it! If it weren’t for Midoriya’s quick thinking to get me, you could have been seriously hurt!”

And that’s when it snaps.

“Your s-stu—” You break off, jerking your hand away from his. Your father’s eyes narrow, about to snap again— “Your daughter lost control of her quirk, Dad! Your daughter! Why is it you still care about your own goddamn students over me?”

Aizawa’s eyes widen, fury snuffing out. “Y/n—”

“NO!” You yell, shaking with emotion. “I’ve listened and watched for my whole fucking life. It’s my turn.”

Aizawa opens his mouth, but the minute tears spill from your eyes and a sob escapes your mouth, he presses his lips into a tight line.

“Your students have always been the priority. Ever since day one, you’d throw yourself in front of a villain crime lord to save them when I didn’t know if you’d even spend my birthday with me each year.” You bite your lip, trembling as the word vomit finally spews from your lips. You can’t stop it, and it just keeps coming and coming because now that the lid is off, the words bubble over like a volcano.

“Do you know what everyone in Class B says?” You grit your teeth, clenching your dirt-ridden shirt with your fingernails digging into your skin. The tears burn hot like magma, and you can’t stop yourself from choking the next few lines out. “They’ve labelled you the second father of Class A, Dad! Did you know that?”

A bitter laugh wrenches itself out of your lips, and you’re pretty sure your skin is bleeding at how tightly you’re clenching your shirt. “Am I not your daughter, Dad? Am I not important now that Mum’s gone?”

“I loved your mother—”

“But do you love me?” you sob out.

The question causes Aizawa’s heart to plummet faster than a ten-pound bowling ball. Your voice is so small, so uncertain, and it makes Aizawa’s heartache. Do you-do you seriously think that? That he didn’t love you?

His hesitation was a fatal mistake, because for the first time in a long while, you look up to him with defiance in your eyes. You’d always been a good child, Aizawa had taught you well, after all. But this? Your eyes were hard, stone cold, and it makes Aizawa stop short.

“That’s what I thought.” You curl into yourself with a small choke, hands finding the door handle before you glance back at him with a teary, broken gaze. “Go check on your precious Bakugou. They seem to need you way more than I do.”

The door slams and knocks down the picture frame hanging on his door, shattered glass fragmenting with a loud, high-pitched crash.

On it, is a photo of you and him on Father’s Day.

To be honest, he has already forgotten how long ago it was taken.

--

Note to the requester: I'm so sorry it's so late! I was debating if I should make it a happy ending and ultimately decided to go with this so it wasn't forced. Sorry if it wasn't exactly what you asked for, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! Thank you for requesting! 💛

[treason-and-plot]

“What do you mean, Connor passed out drunk? Where are his parents?” says Anita.

“I forget. Gone on a trip overseas somewhere? It’s alright, Mum, it’s not like he’s an alcoholic or anything, he was just upset because his bird died. Like, really upset. Like, crying. We had to have a burial for it and everything. It was pretty intense. But can you imagine getting so upset over a bird, for God’s sake? I mean, come on. It’s pathetic.”

“You can’t judge someone for grieving the loss of a beloved pet, Saffron,” says Anita. “It doesn’t matter if the pet was a dog or cat or a hamster or a canary. It can hit people really hard. That poor boy. I feel for him, especially with his parents not being there. Does he have any brothers or sisters?”

“Nope,” says Saffron.

“So he’s all alone?”

“I think he said the maid comes tomorrow. Anyway Mum, he’s eighteen. He’s an adult. He’s not a baby, for God’s sake-“

“I'm sorry, but Joël can't come and pick you up. You can’t leave Connor there alone,” says Anita.

“What are you talking about?” says Saffron. “Of course I can.”

“I can't allow you,” says Anita. “You need to stay there overnight with him.”

“What the hell, Mum-“

“Listen to me, Saffron. He’s had a lot of to drink and there’s always a possibility he could vomit and die from pulmonary aspiration. He cannot be left alone. Do you understand?”

“Oh my God, Connor’s not going to die, Mum. That’s crazy.”

“No it isn’t. Did I tell you about the time we found a girl not much older than you dead in the back of a car? She and a couple of friends had gone out clubbing, and she’d had way too much to drink so her friends had put her in the back of their car to sleep it off and left her there while they continued partying. She vomited while she was passed out, inhaled the vomit into her lungs and choked to death. Do you really want to risk the same thing happening to Connor?”  

“So you’re literally telling me that I have to sleep next to him. In the same bed,” says Saffron.

“I think you have a moral obligation as his friend to look after him,” says Anita. “That is what I’m telling you.”