#comfy pyjamas to make everything better

[fastandcarlos]

He Takes Care Of You On Your Period : ̗̀➛ F1 Reaction

: ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

Lots of cuddles are on the menu whenever you’re on your period, Max never leaves your side, making sure that he holds you as best as he can to take away the pain. He’s incredibly attentive at the best of times but he takes extra care during your time of the month, keeping things slow and moving as calmly as he can to protect your body. Need a squeeze? He’s there. Tummy need massaging? He’s by your side before you even finish asking him. ‘I’ll do whatever I can to make you feel better,’ he repeatedly tells you, knowing that all the pain that you go through is never truly your fault.

: ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

Treats, treats and more treats come your way from Lando whenever you’re on your period. He’s still a little lost sometimes as to what the right thing to do is, however one thing he does know that can solve most situations is chocolate – so that’s what he does. Lando brings the comfort to help you relax, he finds your favourite treats, sets up your living room so its nice and cosy and finds the cheesiest film that he can to send your hormones into overdrive – although secretly he loves making you cry at a film so he can be there to wipe away your tears.

: ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

Bed is the only place Charles will let you be when you’re on your period, he’s there for you whenever you need him. It kills him seeing you in so much pain so he encourages you to rest as much as you can. ‘What do you want?’ He’ll question as soon as he sees you moving, leaping up to help you out. If he could take away the pain, he would in a heartbeat, so instead Charles tries to give you as easy a life as possible whilst you’re suffering, sneaking into bed for a cuddle with you whenever he finds himself with five minutes to himself too.

: ̗̀➛ Carlos Sainz

He’s practically glued to your side when you’re on your period, particularly if you’re visiting work with him too. Carlos likes to make use of the extra benefits of being a driver, giving you a comfy bed to lay down on or sneaking into the hospitality lounge to boil a kettle so that he can fix you up a hot water bottle. ‘Just for you,’ he’ll sweetly smile down at you, placing the bottle to the exact spot that you point to, showing him where it hurts. Gently, Carlos tends to then sit beside you, letting you rest into his side.

: ̗̀➛ George Russell

King of supplies is the title you charmingly gave George the first time you were on your period, and ever since then, he’s lived up to his title. He can tell by your voice alone when your period has arrived, making the call to the shop to get everything you need. He doesn’t care about the stares (and sometimes the photos!) as long as he’s taking care of his girl that’s what matters the most. His cupboards are full of sweets, pads, fresh pyjamas, everything that you could ever need to make sure your period comes and goes as smoothly as possible.

: ̗̀➛ Lewis Hamilton

He’s almost like a mind reader when you’re on your period, Lewis knows exactly what you want before you even do. After a long day at work, all you want to do is rest with your cramps, and as you walk through the door, you can see the steam coming from the bathroom door. A proud Lewis will stand and smile as you enter, ‘welcome home baby,’ he’d whisper every time, showing you his handiwork. A soothing bath, candles lit, gentle music in the background, everything you’d ever need to take your mind off of your sore tummy for a while.

: ̗̀➛ Daniel Ricciardo

He’s the sweetest soul when it comes to your period, all of Daniel’s attention is on you and the things he can do to help you. Daniel treats you like the most delicate thing in the world, cuddling you so tightly you can think about nothing else but his strong arms holding onto you, or telling you a funny joke to make you smile again. You’re sure if you look close enough you can actually see his heartbreaking when he watches you in pain, but secretly you somewhat enjoy your periods as it makes you the centre of his universe for a few days.

: ̗̀➛ Logan Sargeant

He was the perfect pillow at the best of times, but especially during your period, Logan was exactly what you needed. He dropped everything to hold you into his side carefully, running his hand gently against your stomach. ‘Are you comfy?’ Logan would whisper down to you every few minutes, pressing a kiss against the top of your head as soon as you hummed in reply to him. Despite how busy he was, he’d lay with you for hours in the hope that it would make you feel better, doing whatever he could to make your period that little more bearable.

: ̗̀➛ Alex Albon

All other plans are cancelled for Alex when you’re on your period, you are his priority the moment he sees you suffering. Despite you protesting that you’re absolutely fine, Alex refuses to believe it. Whilst you’re still in bed he darts to the shop to make sure that he’s got everything that the two of you will need for the day before joining you in bed as you begin to wake. It’s where you both stay for most of the day, with Alex not leaving your side, paying attention to everything and being an absolute dream taking care of you.

: ̗̀➛ Lance Stroll

You barely had time to breathe with Lance around when you were around, he was on your case all the time. If you were ready for some tablets to take away the pain, Lance would be there with them and a glass of water, or if you needed your hot water filling, he’d take it as soon as it felt too cold to him. Sometimes you forgot he was your boyfriend with how caring Lance was towards you, he was terrified that something would cause you pain so he wanted to be there to fix anything that he could for you straight away.

 ˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch]

Stormy Nights

Summary: You couldn’t sleep and while Wanda said it was okay to bother her you still felt bad

Warnings: Just fluff and cuteness no bad warnings mommy Wanda cuteness

Words: 1000

A/n: this is another draft that’s been here forever so I think it’s best to be shown, it’s just a small mommy Wanda Drabble

You felt silly, it was definitely silly, you a 25 year old holding your seal teddy standing outside Wanda's door contemplating whether to knock on the door or not.

She did say you could earlier this evening when it was thundering and lighting that if you were scared you could go to her room but it was still weird and you were nervous that if you barged in she'd just kick you out.

While you were wracking your brain about everything the bedroom door opened to a sleepy Wanda in her pyjamas looking at you "dorogoy? Are you okay?"

You couldn't speak just held your teddy closer to your chest and she seemingly understood and gave you a wide grin "honey are you scared of the weather?"

You just nodded refusing to look her in the eye "did you want to come into my room for safety?"

You gave another nod and Wanda held her hand out which you took gingerly and she dragged you into her room, the soft light slightly illuminating the room with a cozy feel "thank you" you whispered and Wanda kissed you on the top of your head "your welcome moya lyubov'"

She sat herself on the bed patting the other side for you to lay down on "it's very comfy baby"

You smiled coming to the bed and getting under the covers letting out a happy moan at the softness and instant comfort you felt

"That good?" She chuckled and you blushed pulling the cover over your head "don't hide from me pretty girl" she pulled the cover from you "do you want to cuddle until the storm stops?"

You didn't need to say anything instead you shuffled closer to the woman and let her envelop you into a hug with her head atop of yours and your face in her neck breathing in her lavender scent "thank you" you whispered and Wanda kissed your head

"Go to sleep princess, I'll be right here when you wake up"

Your eyes closed and your body relaxed in Wanda’s hold “you’re so precious” we’re the last words you heard before drifting off into a deep sleep

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

Your eyes fluttered open adjusting to the sudden bright light of the sun through the window, sun? Where you asleep that long?

“Good morning sunshine” Wanda appeared from her bathroom seeing you look around “I hope my shower didn’t wake you”

“No it’s okay, thanks for letting me sleep here” you rushed out slightly embarrassed about you seeing her in her robe which she noticed "no need to be embarrassed princess, I told you I wanted you to come and tell me if you were scared and you did, I'm so proud of you!"

She motioned for you to stand up bringing you into a hug resting her head on your shoulder, you relaxed in her hold until she placed a kiss under your ear making you go stiff

"You're so cute princess, I need to be honest do you know why I told your dad you could stay while they went away?"

You shook your head no and she smiled "because I like having you around, I love the way you light up any room you go into, I want to keep you by my side when I'm feeling sad because I know you'll make me feel so much better, will you stay with me?"

You couldn't speak, Wanda likes you? Like a friend? or more? It sounded like more, you guessed she was always happy to see you and be close to you-

"Honey you're shaking, are you okay?" Your thoughts were stopped and you pulled away suddenly "I-i don't know what to say..."

She understood, it was definitely a lot to take in, but she needed to say it, she decided to let you go but you pulled her back into a hug "don't let me go...please" she smiled completely letting herself relax into the hug

"We can go slow Y/n but I want to be with you, okay detka?"

You nodded and kissed her cheek "okay Wanda”

Wanda smiled “how about you call me mommy Y/n, since you’re my precious little girl now” the thought of calling Wanda mommy made your whole body warm and you liked it so you did

“Okay mommy”

Wanda kissed your lips lightly, just a small peck to show you how much you mean to her “pretty girl” she whispered and you blushed “I keep feeling like a tomato with all the times you’re making me blush” you giggled

“I plan on making you blush all the time from now on, you deserve happiness”

“I’m already so happy”

[russellsppttemplates]

Hi Inês hope you’re doing good. Just thought about Lando being absolutely the sweetest with his pregnant girl. Maybe she’d be insecure but he’d do everything in his power to make her feel good and comfortable in her changing body and he’d be so proud he’s going to be a dad and always mention it in interview, to his friends and everywhere really

Cw: reader's insecurity about her pregnant body

It started as something small and barely noticeable. You started showing when the weather got colder, so it was natural to have more layers on, making your outfits lose the tight fitted shape, and Lando wanted you to be warm and comfy, so he didn't think of it at first. When you started getting ready and dressed in the bathroom, however, that tipped the scales in your husband's head that there was something going on.

"I want to have some cuddles with my two favourite people", Lando said as he laid in bed, ready to unwind from the day, "sure, I'll just put my pyjamas on, I'll be right back", you mumbled, the uneasiness clear in your voice as you made your way to the ensuite.

"Actually, baby, I wanted to talk to you about that", he began, catching your attention as you sat down on the bed where he patted his hand, "you've been very kept to yourself, and you never undress here in the room if I'm here. Is there something wrong?", he asked.

You knew better than to lie through your teeth, so you let it out, "my body has changed a lot recently, and I didn't even think I'd be this bothered by it. I never fit into the patterns that society defined so I thought I would be fine. It's just stretch marks and me getting bigger, it's not like it hasn't happened before", you scoffed as tears gathered in your waterline, "bu- but, It's a lot to take in. Every day there's something new I notice", you bit your bottom lip.

"Every single day there's something new and gorgeous about you, you're right, baby", Lando smiled, wiping the stray tear that fell on your cheek, "May I?", he asked as he lifted your shirt once you gave him consent, "your body is growing our babygirl, Y/N, and you look so gorgeous while doing it", he complimented.

"There's that old wives tale that says that if you're having a baby girl, it means the mother doesn't have that glow or beauty because the daughter is stealing them from her, but that's not true. Everyday you get more beautiful to me. Your tummy is making sure she's safe inside and nothing bad happens to her, your boobs will make sure she's fed and growing as she should", he smiled, tracing patterns in the skin before he unbuttoned the skirt you were wearing, glad the fabric was kept together by the buttons on the side of your thigh so you wouldn't have to move to be left in your underwear.

"All of you is beautiful, and I'm going to show you just that", he moved to hold your ankle, "these are making sure you're moving throughout the pregnancy, and they're so soft an-", he was interrupted, "Lando, they're swollen, Mila even compared them to one of her balloons the oth-".

"Shhhh, I'm not finished...! And your strong, thick thighs, I've always loved them, making sure you'll be ready for when the time comes to bring her earthside. These hips, I always get lost in them, and they're so gorgeous and perfect for me to hold you against my body, your tummy protecting our daughter, all of you", he kissed as he went along, bringing a smile to your face at his sillyness despite the serious tone, "I meant every word, Y/N, I love you, I'm in awe of you everyday, I'm proud of you for telling me how you feel and I'll remind you everyday of that", he kissed your lips, "you're the most beautiful woman in the world, baby".

.

"Does this look nice?", you looked at your husband through the mirror, not knowing if the dress was flaterring. Ever the funny one, Lando mimicked something going through his heart, falling dramatically on the bed, "woman, you're going to kill me with all of your beauty!", he exaggerated.

Giggling at his antics, you pulled him up to his feet, "you look gorgeous, baby, absolutely gorgeous", he complimented, making you twirl before he kissed your lips.

Already in the paddock, Natalie wa she first to talk about you, "I saw you arrive to the track today with a very special guest. How is everything going?", she questioned.

"Fantastic! It's great having my wife here this weekend, it's my home race so it wasn't hard for her to travel here, which is getting a little trickier now that she's pregnant, but yes, very good", Lando beamed at the mention of you.

"It's always good to have support around and you've been together for a while, too!", she noted.

"Yes! And we're having a baby, so it's been extra special making these memories together. She's sitting in the front here actually, I'm not sure you can see her", Lando pointed to the side of the stage he was facing, "you can't see how gorgeous she looks today, and she's very pregnant so I won't make her get up, but that just means you'll have to go online and see my very own beautiful superwoman", he gushed, the praise directed towards always coming to him so effortlessly.

"She does indeed look amazing! Hi, Y/N!", Natalie waved, "what a great Silverstone Grand Prix we're going to have, I'm sure!".

"Did you know that he told everyone in the driver's debrief that you were joining us today?", Oscar pointed out while you had lunch, his son Lucas drawing with you on his colouring book, "Lando!", you scolded softly, blushing at the thought of your husband pestering the rest of the grid, "what? They all know we're having a little Norris and they always ask about you, so I told them you were here this weekend!".

(Thank you for your submission ✨️)

[chelseachilly]

my priority

pairing: ben chilwell x reader warnings: none, just sickening fluff and reader taking care of ben while he's ill 🥹❤️‍🩹 word count: 1.6k

a/n: just a bit of fluff i wrote earlier this week when it was gross and rainy out here and i saw ben was out with a cold, wasn't gonna post it as i'm not sure i like it but felt like we could all use some cheering up after today's game 😔 hope ben is feeling better and back for everton!!

-

It’s a gloomy, dreary day - not uncommon for this time of year in London, but still doing little to lift your spirits as you get through the workday. 

It’s bad enough that you have to get through a day of back-to-back meetings with hardly a moment to catch your breath, but you’re also counting down the seconds until you can leave and get home to your sick boyfriend. 

It absolutely broke your heart leaving Ben this morning, on his third day of a terrible cold that’s completely taken him out of action. You made sure he took some medicine and had a bit to eat before you left, but you would’ve given anything to stay by his side. You managed to work from home and take care of him the past two days, but you knew that today it would be impossible with the in-person meetings you had to attend.

Although there’s still work to be done, you pack up your things and leave the moment the meetings are over, resigning yourself to the fact that you’ll have to do some more work tonight. 

Aside from a quick stop to pick up Ben’s favourite chicken soup and some more cold medicine, you head straight home. You’re dripping with rain from the brief walk from the car to the front door, and you quickly take off your shoes and coat before heading into the kitchen to drop the supplies you picked up. 

Before you go upstairs to get changed, you follow the sound of the TV quietly playing and poke your head in the living room. You breathe a small sigh of relief when you see Ben laying on the couch, his soft snores drowned out by the post-match commentary of the football game he fell asleep watching. 

It takes everything in you to tear yourself away and go get out of your wet clothes, knowing it won’t do either of you any good if you join him on the couch in this state. You quickly run upstairs and take off all of your clothing, tossing it into the laundry bin before changing into some comfy pyjama pants and one of Ben’s softest t-shirts. 

When you’re done, you make your way back down to the TV room and crouch in front of your sleeping boyfriend. He looks so peaceful that you almost don’t want to wake him, but you know he’s probably overdue to take some more medicine. 

You gently card your fingers through his hair to wake him, smiling as his eyes flutter open and you’re greeted with the beautiful blue eyes that first captured your heart years ago. From the moment you met his piercing gaze, you knew you were in trouble, and the charming smile that followed sealed your fate. 

Ben mumbles your name as he slowly rouses from his sleep, blinking as he takes in his surroundings. 

“Hi, baby,” you say softly, continuing to stroke his hair the way he likes as he shuts his eyes in contentment. “How are you feeling? Any better than this morning?”

“Maybe a little better,” he says, his voice a bit hoarse. “I slept most of the day.”

“That’s good,” you murmur, cupping his face and brushing your thumb over the stubble that has appeared after a few days without him shaving. “Did you manage to eat anything else?”

“Mhm, I finished up the last of that chicken soup.”

“Good boy,” you smile, glad that he’s taken care of himself in your absence. “I got some more on my way home. Want me to go heat it up for you? You need to take more meds too.”

Ben nods, smiling sleepily as he leans into your hand and nuzzles his cheek against your palm. 

���You’re the best,” he says. “After I eat can we cuddle and watch something together?”

Although you really should get some more work done tonight, you’re completely powerless against him when he’s so adorable and feeling so poorly. 

“Of course, my love,” you say, leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead before reluctantly pulling away from him so you can go prepare dinner. “I’ll be right back.”

Ben groans slightly at the loss of contact, and your heart aches even though you’re just going to the next room and you’ll be back within minutes. 

He’s been particularly clingy since he got back from the England camp. He was all over you from the moment he got home, demanding lots kisses to make up for all the days you were apart - which you were more than happy to give. He continued to be a bit more cuddly than normal over the first few days he was home, mostly because his knee was hurting after the knock he picked up against Belgium and he was obviously worried that it might be something serious. 

As always, you sprung into nurse duty and made sure he got plenty of rest, and plenty of “healing cuddles” as he once called them in a drug-induced state after his knee surgery a couple years ago. You never let him live that name down, but you’ve also never failed to provide them when he’s injured or sick.

Now that he’s ill, the clinginess has been dialled up to a ten, which made it even more difficult to leave him alone all day. 

You quickly heat up the soup for both of you and grab some fruit and other snacks for yourself, and for Ben if he’s feeling up to something else. You load everything onto a tray and bring it out to the living room, setting it down on the coffee table. 

Ben forces himself into a seated position to eat, and you gently rub his upper back as he starts coughing. Once he’s recovered from the sudden coughing fit, you carefully help situate him with the warm bowl of soup atop a pillow on his lap. You also pass him a pill and a glass of water to wash it down.

“Thanks, babe,” Ben says with a small smile.

You both finish your dinner fairly quickly, and you’re glad that his appetite seems to be slowly returning. After you clean up the dishes, you return to the couch and settle into Ben’s side with well-practiced ease. 

No matter how much stress you’re under at work or how many worries are plaguing your mind, there’s truly nothing that quiets the world like curling up in the arms of your boyfriend. 

Tonight, when Ben is feeling so rotten and in need of comfort, he isn’t content with your usual cuddle position while watching TV, he wants to be as close to you as physically possible.

He gently nudges you so you lay down fully on your back. Knowing what he wants without any explanation, you open your arms so he can crawl into your embrace. He rests his head on your chest, his arm snaking around your waist and your legs tangling together.

He breathes out a sigh of contentment as you begin to stroke his hair again, lightly scratching his scalp with your fingers the way he likes. You’re grateful that he gave up on insisting you stay away to avoid getting sick within the first day of his illness, as you would hate to be sleeping in a separate room or sitting on opposite ends of the couch when he needs you the most. It seems to have been worth the risk, as you’re sure you would be showing some symptoms by now if you were going to catch it. 

“Missed you today,” Ben murmurs, slipping his hand under your shirt to feel the soft skin of your lower back in the most innocent way possible, just wanting to feel you. 

“I missed you too,” you say with a kiss to his forehead. “I’m sorry I had to go in today.”

“It’s okay, baby, not your fault that you’re so important and the company wouldn’t last a day without you,” he says, making you roll your eyes affectionately. 

He’s always singing your praises, talking about how smart and successful you are to anyone who will listen. Your work isn’t nearly as exciting as his, but for every time you brag to your friends and family about a goal he scored or an international call-up, he’s just as quick to tell them about your latest promotion or a conference you spoke at. 

“You’re my priority, though,” you remind him. “And I’m working from home for the rest of the week. My boss already approved it.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Ben says, though he kisses your neck in gratitude. 

“I want to, I hated leaving you today,” you say, continuing to press kisses to his hair and any part of his face you can reach. “I’ll be here until you’re all better.”

Ben smiles against your skin. “I love you so much.”

“I love you so much too, Benji,” you say, squeezing him close to you. 

You put on an episode of an old sitcom you both love and have seen a hundred times, knowing Ben will fall asleep shortly after the medication you gave him. 

It’s not long before you can feel his breaths even out and you glance down to see your boyfriend fast asleep on top of you. You know that you should try to extricate yourself from his embrace and go do a bit of work, but the way he whines slightly and holds you tighter in his sleep when you try to do so makes you change your mind. 

Your inbox can wait until the morning - for now, you just settle further into the couch and focus on the show you’re watching and the feeling of holding Ben in your arms. There’s nothing more important than this. 

-

a/n: i hope you enjoyed, please leave a comment and let me know what you thought 🥰

[justabigassnerd]

Daddy's Little Girl

Pairing - Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x daughter!reader

Word count - 1,484

Warnings - mentions of throwing up, sickness, mostly fluff

Summary - after a long night of being unwell, your dad is there to help you feel better

A/N - sorry it's been a while since my last fic, I'm still fighting for my life out here. this fic was an anon request (actually two) so I hope I did it justice. as per y'all please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

Maverick knew that having a young child meant that there would be days when you would get sick, and he would have to dedicate a few days to taking care of you. It’s part of what parenting entailed, and he knows he’d do just about anything to make sure his little girl is comfortable and looked after when she’s sick.

This time, you had clearly picked up a stomach bug from being at preschool and you had spent a large majority of the night emptying your stomach into the bucket Maverick had placed by his bed. He rubbed your back and kept your hair back from your face as you were sick and wiped your tears away when you had finished throwing up.

It took until the early hours of the morning for you to stop being sick and you soon curled up in Maverick’s arms, falling asleep almost instantly as Maverick brushed your hair away from your face and watched you sleep softly. He didn’t care if he got sick, all he cared about was you and whether you were okay. He couldn’t allow himself to do more than doze for the rest of the night in case you needed him at any moment.

By the time the morning had fully rolled around, Maverick had woken up before you, gently wiggling out from underneath you, picking up the bucket and taking it downstairs to clean it out before making himself a coffee and filling a bottle with water for you.

“Daddy!” Upon hearing your panicked cry, Maverick abandoned everything and darted up the stairs, every worst-case scenario making its way into his head as he took the steps two at a time to reach you faster. When he threw the door open, he was relieved to see you looking relatively okay aside from the tears that filled your eyes. Upon seeing your dad, you lifted your arms, and more tears worked their way down your cheeks. Maverick crossed to you, picking you up without hesitation and wiping your tears away softly as you cling to him, snuggling as close as you could.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” Maverick coos softly, fighting the urge to bounce you lightly in case it upsets your stomach. You don’t respond, snuggling impossibly closer to your dad as your tears stop. Maverick rests the back of his hand against your forehead, relieved to notice that while you’re still warm, you’re not as warm as you were during the night.

“Let’s get you a quick bath, huh? That’ll help you feel a little better.” Maverick says, heading into your room to pick out a fresh pair of pyjamas and then heading into the bathroom and running a bath for you. When you’re in the bath, Maverick kneels alongside the tub, washing you gently and checking up on you, making sure you didn’t feel like you were going to be sick. You perked up a little bit, but you still weren’t at one hundred percent. When you’re cleaned up, Maverick drains the tub and then wraps you in a warm fluffy towel before lifting you out, drying you off before getting you into the new pyjamas.

“I’m going to make us some breakfast, do you think you could handle some toast? Does that sound good?” Maverick asks as he enters his bedroom once more, moving to put you down on his bed, stopping when you cling to him and whine.

“No daddy, don’t go.” You whine, refusing to let go despite his attempts to put you down.

“Hey, I’ll only be downstairs. You get to relax in daddy’s comfy bed, that’s way better than being in the kitchen.” Maverick attempts to bargain with you as you refuse to detangle yourself from your dad’s arms.

“No, wanna stay with you.” You whimper, clinging tighter to Maverick’s shirt so he can’t put you down. Maverick feels his heart breaking at your words, not being able to find it within him to deny your request.

“Okay, you can come with me.” Maverick says, setting you on his hip once more and heading downstairs to the kitchen where the bottle of water and now cold cup of coffee sat on the counter. Maverick sits you at the kitchen table and turns his attention to pouring out the cold coffee and making a new one and putting some bread in the toaster. As he busies himself with making something to eat for both you and him, he feels you wrap your arms around his leg, and he glances down with a soft smile.

“Was the chair not good enough, squirt?” Maverick muses jokingly as he ruffles at your hair, picking up his new mug of coffee and taking a sip. He hands you your water bottle just as the toast pops out of the toaster, he places one slice on one of your small plastic plates and two slices on his plate. He butters your toast and cuts it into small squares. Maverick moves back to the kitchen table, placing the plates and his mug on the table before sitting down and lifting you onto his lap so you could both eat your breakfast.

“Not too fast. We don’t want to upset your tummy.” Maverick says gently as you take a big bite out of the first square. He knew you were most likely starving due to the fact you’d been emptying your stomach most of the night, but he didn’t want you eating too fast in case it ended badly. Listening to your dad, you begin to take smaller bites as well as taking sips of water when Maverick gently prompts you to, reminding you of the importance of staying hydrated, especially when you’re sick. He knew you might not pay much mind to his words, but he figured if he started reminding you of the importance of taking care of yourself when you’re sick, you’d remember his words as you grew up and take care of yourself when you were unwell or burnt out. When both of you finished your breakfast, Maverick had to carefully navigate moving the plates from the table to the dishwasher with you still sitting on his hip before filling up your water bottle once more and handing it to you upon your request.

“Alright, kiddo. I think it's time to rest up a little more. You need to rest to make sure you feel better.” Maverick says as he brushes a strand of hair from your face, fighting back a frown at the temperature still clinging to your cheeks.

“Okay, daddy.” You say, cuddling close to your dad as he stops in the kitchen doorway.

“We have two choices here. We can go upstairs and watch a movie in daddy’s room. Or we could watch a movie in the living room. Your choice.” Maverick says, giving you the freedom to choose where you want to chill out. You think deeply, your eyebrows furrowing.

“Daddy’s room.” You eventually say, winding your arms around his neck and snuggling close, the coolness of the water bottle against his neck making Maverick bite back a wince.

“My room it is.” Maverick concludes with a grin, heading up the stairs and into his bedroom. He puts you on the bed before climbing in himself and as he grabs the remote, you’re instantly curling into his side, resting your head on his chest. Maverick skims through the various movies until you point out one, you’d like to watch. When you find a movie you like, he hits play and puts the remote down on the bedside table.

“You let me know if your tummy starts hurting, okay?” Maverick mumbles as the opening credits play, running a hand up and down your back as you nod against his chest. Maverick kept a close eye on you as you remained focused on the movie, giggling at the antics of one of the cartoon characters on the screen.

Maverick knew that having you cling and cuddle up to him was a risk of him getting sick too, but he didn’t care at all. All he cared about was your comfort and that you were feeling better. You were his world, his everything and he’d do just about anything he could to make sure you were comfortable and loved even on the days when you weren’t feeling well. He hated whenever you were sick, be it the tiniest cough or the sick bug you were dealing with now. He wished he could do nothing more than to take it away from you, so you didn’t ever have to feel sick or in pain. You were his little girl and he’d do just about anything for you.

As he watched you watching the movie, he couldn’t stop a small smile from gracing his face. He got lucky with you and he’d never let you forget how much he loved you.

[cosmal]

okay so im currently struggling with really bad body image/restriction & all i can think of recently is james potter just being so, so kind and patient and gentle and helpful with a shy s/o struggling with the same things. letting them wear his quidditch sweater when they're insecure, making sure they eats, forehead kisses when he's proud of them, etc. i totally respect if you're not comfy writing for this, i adore your works<3

sweater

summary — james gives you his sweater when you're not feeling comfortable with yourself.

content — james potter x fem!afab!reader, tw for reader with body issues and eating issues, also I tried to keep the body description low because I didn't want to be too specific on why reader is feeling this way

note — thank u for the request lovely! i hope you're feeling better 🤍

You told James you’d be no longer than ten minutes. That ten minutes has well passed now and you’re sure he’s worrying crazy about you.

You did arrive when you said you would, but you’ve been standing outside the pub for at least twenty, trying to find the courage to go inside.

He’s probably sitting all alone inside and the thought makes you feel even worse about yourself, but still, your feet are stuck on the pavement and you can’t find the motivation to move.

You can feel your phone buzzing in your pocket, you ignore it because you know it'll be James. You think messaging him might be easier.

You stare at your reflection in the dirty window of the pub's front entrance instead of fishing for your phone. You look at your outfit - the last of many you'd rifled through whilst crying on the floor in front of your cupboard - and notice how it looks worse than it did in the lighting of your stuffy room.

It feels worse, too. The wind picks up and clings the material in spots you wish it didn't. You keep tugging the dress in an attempt to not feel so suffocated and end up feeling pathetic. You don't remember it being so short and the thought of going inside to sit down terrifies you. The idea of it riding up to show more of your legs, and it bunching around your torso makes you want to go home and sit in your pyjamas and fall asleep.

You don't want James to think you're ditching him, but for every possible scenario you see yourself in, all you can think about is how your outfit ruins it for you. The way you're feeling right now - the way you always feel about yourself - ruins it for you. Will ruin it for James.

Your phone dings and you think he knows you don't want to speak on the phone.

Everything ok love? xxx

You stare at the message until it blurs. You put him out of his misery and message back, feeling worse by the second.

sorry jamie. wont be long. x

You stand outside still and kick gravel. Holding your breath like a dizzy head is going to help in any way. You tug at the hem of your dress until the stitching cracks and try to find any ounce of confidence to go inside.

Patrons rush past you to get inside, out of the elements of the chilly, autumn afternoon air. You hear the bell above the door chime and then you hear his voice.

"There you are," he says softly, walking down the last few steps. His nice shoes click against the sandstone and you notice straight away how lovely he looks. His tan cords and maroon jumper. So simple but so very James. Effortlessly pretty.

He stands so close your shoes almost touch. "I'm sorry," you say in replacement of your usual warm greeting.

James frowns while opening his arms for a hug. You panic because he's about to feel you under his weight, scared of where he'll hold his hands. Though the thought of being buried in his chest almost makes the idea less painful.

"What're you sorry for, hmm?" he asks and you try to focus on anything else than the burning in your chest.

His scent, like spearmint and coffee, and a perfume of yours that you're not wearing now. The idea makes you tamp down the urge to cry. His chest is firm under your cheek where you've buried your face. You focus too hard on him for too long and you forget to answer.

He pulls you back and you startle. You miss his heat sorely. "Sweetheart?"

You clear your throat and blink. "Sorry."

"Y/N."

You shake your head and try to swallow. The words get caught in your throat and the way he's looking at you makes it harder. Soft eyes and an even softer frown. He's not pitying you, he looks sad. Even worse when he watches a tear dribble down your cold cheek.

"Hey," he says, half panicked, half worried. They blur into one emotion when he raises his hand to catch the tear before it curves down your chin. "C'mon."

He ushers you away from the entrance and to the brick wall curled around the side. Off of the pavement and under the awning to the side of the steps. "What's the matter."

Your tears slow because he's got his hands all over you. It's confusing because you don't want to be felt but he's not doing it for himself. He wants to calm you down.

"It's embarrassing," you mumble, craning your neck to wipe your cheek on the sleeve of your dress. You hope you don't get all snotty because it'll be embarrassing and you have no tissues.

"Let me be the judge of that," he says with the barest hint of a smile. He's still frowning and your chest feels worse. You hate it when you make him frown.

He'd never judge you. Never over anything that wasn't stupid, despite the fact that this feels stupid to you, he'd never. Over your favourite movie or how you like your eggs, maybe, but not this.

You say, "My dress," at a volume you're surprised he can hear.

"Your dress?" He looks at your outfit and you want to squirm out from where he's got his big hands on your arms.

"I don't," you take a big, gasping breath and try to fix your voice, "I don't like how I look in it. I don't like how I look in anything."

You and James have had this conversation before. It wasn't as emotional as right now, but he'd been lovely and understanding about the whole thing and he might be sweeter than he was before you told him if that's entirely impossible.

He tells you all the time how lovely you look. He knows when to compliment you on your outfit without being completely obvious about it. When he can tell you're struggling to choose an outfit or when he catches you staring at yourself in the mirror. I love that dress on you, honey. Or You've got your favourite top on! He's never specific but he always knows how to make you feel better.

"You feel uncomfortable?" he asks.

He never diminishes how you're feeling. If you don't like how you look, you don't like it. He likes to figure out how to help instead of telling you that you look good. That would be useless, a two-second conversation isn't going to get to the root of your problem straight away.

"I don't like how it feels on me," you sniffle, pulling at the material, "It's like I can't - like I can't breathe."

"Do you want to go home? We can eat in if you're feeling up to it?" He squeezes at your biceps and it feels nice. You lower your shoulders.

The idea is tempting, but you won't ruin his night. "I want to eat here."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," you say, not sounding very convincing.

"You're not lying to me?"

"Jamie..."

He bites his lip before letting you go. Reaching down to grasp the hem of his big sweater before tugging it over his head. He pushes his glasses back up his nose but ignores the mess of his hair.

"Arms up," he smiles.

"What?" you giggle despite yourself.

"You can wear this if you want," he says, bunching the soft woollen sleeves in his hands.

"You'll be cold," you tell him. All he's got is his white cotton tee.

"No I won't," he says firmly with a shake of his head.

You lift your arms because you won't win. And because you kinda do want to wear his jumper. You push your hands through the sleeves while he slips it over your head. When you pop back out with ruffled hair and a demure smile, James smiles even worse.

"How do I look?" you ask, twirling a little because you can't help it. It's strange how better you feel already. It's also not because James has that effect.

"Beautiful," he says and then doubles down, "You always look beautiful."

You feel like you might melt into a little puddle right then and there. Just slip right through the cracks of the pavement with the ants and weeds. "You're only saying that because I'm wearing your clothes."

James feigns offence, dropping his jaw and gasping, "Not true!" He's laughing now, "Not true. You look beautiful in everything."

He gets you into his arms and cages you against his chest, squeezing you tight and pushing his mouth into the side of your head, "And nothing."

"James!" you gasp but can't go anywhere. You don't really want to but it's fun to be this way with James. "You're dirty."

"I know," he says chuckling into your hair. "It's your fault though, babe. You bring it out of me."

You look turn to look at him and you smile. "Thank you."

"It's nothing," he says, smacking a kiss to your cheek. "Anything for you."

You kiss him back until he's grinning wildly like he can't help it. You how he's feeling because neither can you.

"Wanna go inside?" he asks when you pull back.

"We should."

"You feeling hungry?" he asks, snaking a hand down your arm to link your fingers.

"I could really go for some chips," you say honestly.

James grins, "Good," he says, "That's good. C'mon, I'll get you anything you like."

Of course, he will. You love him.

[rinhaler]

Think Slow, 'Cause I Move Fast

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Since your recent attack, all Yuuji wants to do is keep you safe at home. But a letter from your parents makes that a little difficult...

boyfriend!yuuji itadori x f!reader x bully!megumi fushiguro

WARNINGS : 18+, exhibitionism, semi public, fingering, bullying, drugging mentions, bladder failure mention, vomiting mention, praise kink, brief fainting (ish).

WORDS : 4.5k

notes : the way i am SO invested in this all over again LMAO i sorta ate huh

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You’ve never taken so many days off from your studies in your whole life. It couldn’t be helped, but you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling guilty for taking the Tuesday off. Maybe if you went to class, your punishment from Megumi would have been a lot less severe. With what little time you’ve had to yourself since you awoke from your two-day long slumber, you’ve done nothing but think and overthink. He invited those two girls out from your class and planned the whole thing, knowing they’d do anything he asked. You’re even willing to bet one of those girls was who he was fingering upstairs outside of the toilets. Your memory is choppy, but you remember what they said to you clear as day.

That pill Megumi told us to slip in her drink was really strong, huh?

Every time those words play in your mind you couldn’t stop yourself from crying. How could someone be so evil? You don’t know what you did to warrant this, any of this. It was extreme, it was heartless, and you felt stabbing pangs in your heart as you thought this might be happening until you graduate.

Maybe you should transfer.

Maybe you should leave him, Yuuji, your studies, everything behind.

You finally woke up on Friday, and didn’t know a minute of peace. The police interviewed you, telling you the girls could face up to a maximum of ten years for drugging you. It was sick, however, that it wouldn’t be the case. You were an unreliable source because of your intoxication, and nobody else had witnessed them spiking you.

Of course Megumi got off scot-free since he didn’t actually do it and there was no way you could prove he masterminded the whole thing. The authorities were sympathetic, but it was out of their hands.

Yuuji has barely spoken since the incident. He knows you're too frightened and upset to talk about it for now, but he's at least thankful you were being honest with the police. Even though it came to nothing. He wants to murder Megumi with his bare hands. That is why he didn’t speak. Because all of his energy needed to go into taking care of you, making you feel better. And if he starts talking, if he starts asking questions, he’ll lose all rationale.

He won’t be responsible for his actions or what he would do to his former best friend.

Your insides are raw, you can’t eat, all you can do is sleep. Fragile is the only way to describe your body; each and every movement you make feels like a gargantuan task. Yuuji is running around after you; he's everything in his power to help you through this.

Although he was slightly intoxicated himself when you returned from the club, he managed to sit you in the bathtub while he showered you. He did his best to remove the paint from your body, but his priority was clearing you of vomit and urine, and the vile word that had been smeared across your skin in lipstick. He immediately put your clothes (save for the t shirt that he threw in the bin) in the washing machine and dressed you in loose comfy pyjamas before carrying you to bed. He made sure to keep you on your side with a sick bucket on the floor next to your bedside table.

Gojo stayed for a while, wanting to make sure you were okay, and he wanted to keep an eye on Yuuji . He had no idea what to tell him since he didn’t know what had happened. He managed to keep it together while the pair of them speculated. All he could see in his mind was your frail body being carried by those wonderful women who chose to help you. Your shirt had been cut open with precision, telling him it was a premeditated attack. Somebody brought scissors into a nightclub, they knew they were going to do this to you. He had a niggling sensation that it was Megumi, but he wasn’t sure since he hadn’t seen him at the club. So, the only other people he could think of were those girls, the girls who claimed to be your friend.

He tortured himself for leaving you. He didn’t want to fucking leave you, but he did, because he’s an idiot. He knew he should have stayed with you, something was nagging at him to protect you, but he didn’t. Itadori couldn’t possibly feel any worse, because he should have known better. He did know better, but he ignored his instincts anyway.

He did feel worse again, though, when he woke up the next morning and you were still fast asleep. He didn’t notice the previous night, but in the glittering morning sun peeking through the blinds he saw your neck. He saw the blushing blue blooms, unmistakable finger marks etched into your poor throat. Not only had you been publicly humiliated, but you’d also been outright attacked.

Yuuji encouraged you to tell the police about the attack too, you were sober then, you remembered that Megumi did it to you. But again, it was your word against his. They couldn’t find anyone to corroborate your story. As far as they were concerned there was nothing more they could do.

Everything was hopeless. The system had failed you. You wanted to escape, to leave and never look back. Forget about this whole incident, the worst few days of your entire life and it was all his fault.

It was all Megumi Fushiguro’s fault.

The minute you found some energy, you got yourself out of bed to discover your boyfriend in the front room. He immediately jumps to his feet and to the kitchen so that he could make you a drink. You sit down in the armchair, bringing your legs up and crossing them over one another.

He’s never seen you like this. You’re normally so happy and full of energy, and you're the most glamorous girl he’s ever met. Priding yourself on your fashion and appearance has always been important to you. But Yuuji barely recognises the girl in front of him today. Despite him washing your hair, it was wiry and almost greasy looking. You were paler than pale, he wouldn’t dare say it, but he thought you looked like you’d just been dug up. Your eyes are so bloodshot, he could barely stomach looking at them. There isn’t a patch of white in either of them. The bags under your eyes were so black, he asked you a few times if you remember anyone punching you. You shook your head insistently; you're just so damn tired.

He sets two drinks down in front of you. A green tea and a glass of ice-cold water. He isn’t sure what you’d be in the mood for, so he decided to give you options.

“How are you feeling?” he asks stupidly, knowing the answer.

How were you feeling isn’t a stupid question, because even you didn’t have an answer.

You're happy, happy it seems like you were finally getting over the worst of the drug you’d been spiked with.

You're sad, sad that this had happened to you, and you aren’t sure how much worse things could get.

You're terrified, terrified that despite doing the right thing, despite telling the police what had happened so they could deliver justice to the perpetrators, they’d gotten away with everything and were free to continue making your life hell.

“I’m tired, Yuuji… so fucking tired.” you sigh, resting your forehead in one hand and rubbing your temples.

He knows you're tired, of course he fucking knows.

But your boyfriend feels helpless, he wants to lash out, to yell, to scream even. But he can’t, he can’t because he knows you wouldn’t want any of that. You wouldn’t want him taking the law into his own hands and getting in trouble.

The whole situation is a fucking nightmare.

As your eyes remain shut while you cradle your aching head, a memory pops into your mind. Not about the night, you're sick of remembering that night. But you lift your gaze to find Yuuji’s, and he looks back at you inquisitively.

“Yuuji could you—” and before you’ve even finished talking, he's on his feet, ready and waiting for your instructions, “could you get the letter my parents sent… I forgot to open it.” you request.

Yuuji rushes back with the fancily sealed envelope in record time. He placed it delicately in your hands before returning to his spot on the couch. It feels like a punishment to hold it in your hands. Albeit impossible, you considered whether Megumi had been behind this too. Had he somehow managed to find out who your parents are and mastermind another situation to make your life hell?

Deep down you knew it could only be one of two things.

A cheque, or an invitation. There were two conditions your parents gave you if they were to let you attend a public university rather than a prestigious (pretentious) academy.

You were forbidden from living on campus. They didn’t want to run the risk of anything happening to you in your dorm room or dealing with uncouth roommates. You weren’t sure what concerned them so much about living with other students, but you wonder if they were concerned they’d get you hooked on drugs or perform premarital sex.

At least you’ve never willingly indulged in the former.

But the second condition was they got to choose your place of residence. So that is how you are an unemployed student who can afford to live in a house of her own.

Your rich parents pay for it.

They weren’t too pleased to discover you almost immediately let Yuuji move in with you too, but they didn’t really have a say in the matter. And as far as your sex life was concerned, if they wanted to believe you were still a virgin and weren’t fucking your boyfriend, that was on them.

Peeling off the pretty pink seal seems to take an eternity. You don’t want to know what's inside, Yuuji looks like he's about to burst any minute if you don’t open it quicker. He's on tenterhooks, practically hanging off the edge of the sofa as he waits for you to open it. Once the seal is removed, you look into Yuuji’s eyes. You take a massive gulp as your fingers begin to convulse with fear.

“Do you want me to open it?” He asks, you shake your head.

You softly move the envelope flap upwards, frightened fingers poke inside to grab whatever it contains. Your eyes are screwed shut as you pull it out. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears, your brain is pulsing against your skull in anticipation. The dread you feel at the thought of what was on the piece of paper is too much. But before Yuuji can intervene and read it for you, you find the courage to look.

You exhale disappointedly flipping the paper over for Yuuji to see and read.

An invitation.

“So, your folks finally bought a second manor home huh? Must be nice…” he trails off.

“I should have read it sooner, we’re going to have to start packing so we can set off early tomorrow.” you explain as you stand to your feet. But before you can retreat upstairs to your bedroom to begin packing the essentials, Yuuji grabs the flesh of your upper arm and stops you.

“We aren’t going.” he tells you. You look at him curiously, unsure of how he came to that conclusion. It isn’t optional, you would never avoid attending a family event no matter what and he knows that. “You’re still recovering, you get that right? There’s no way we are going.” he adds, earning a smile from you.

“It’ll be fine Yuuji, it’s only for the weekend.” you attempt to alleviate any tension or concerns from him, but he simply shrugs you off and brings your body closer to his so he can stare down into your eyes.

“We aren’t going. I’m saying this for you. It’s too soon, I’m sure if you explain what happened they’ll understand.” he tries to reason with you, to make you see sense. But all you could offer in return to his words is a cruel scoff.

“You’re not serious? If I tell them, they’ll enrol me into a different school, they just need one excuse. I don’t want anyone to know, I’m embarrassed enough. I don’t want this, want him to rule my life Yuuji. I want to go to my parents’ housewarming party and forget the whole thing.” you tell him sternly, freeing yourself from his hold and continue your journey to the bedroom.

“But—”

“I mean it Yuuji. We are going whether you like it or not,” you spit as you turn to face him once again, “I’d appreciate your support right now. I just want to feel normal, so please, come and help me pack.”

You look at him as his face droops. He looks devastated and you truly feel for him. He's beating himself up over what happened, and you couldn’t do or say anything that would ease his guilt. He's doing everything he can to make it up to you, to make up for his own self-appointed shame, all he wants to do is protect you, but it seems he can’t do anything right. So, he relents.

“Okay."

The car ride to your parents’ new address is painful. You set off ridiculously early so that you’d be there on time. And by on time, you mean early. Because being on time would in fact be being late.

The biggest reason Yuuji doesn’t want to attend is to protect you after your attack. But it certainly didn’t help matters that he hates going to see your parents. He’s only met them a handful of times, and they are nice enough, but he knows they look down their noses at him and don’t think he's good enough for you. It shouldn’t matter that he isn’t from a wealthy family, he loves you and would do anything for you.

He’d probably die for you.

And that should be enough to prove that he’s worthy of your love.

It’s enough for you, and that’s all you care about.

You opt to wear a black and white pinstripe pantsuit. You know no matter what you wear your mother will have something to say about it, so you do your best to dress comfortably yet sophisticated.

Yuuji is dressed nicely too, he thought the comfy, yet sophisticated look was the right move too, and since he knows your parents disapprove of him it wouldn’t matter what he wore.

He's dreading the snide comments all weekend, it would never cease, but as long as he has you by his side, he knows you can both get through it.

He has one hand on the wheel and one on your thigh, he's gripping awfully tight. You suspect a combination of nerves and an overwhelming desire to protect you. When you’re right around the corner of the entrance of your parents’ house, you decide to apply a fresh layer of gloss. You don’t expect Yuuji’s fingers to begin wandering their way towards your sex, so you yelp at the feeling of his pinkie finger slowly tracing over your clothed clit.

“Take em off,” he demands.

Your heart is racing, you aren’t sure what you should do. You want it, you want him. You love his touch, you love him, you want to be with him and feel normal. But you’re right outside of your parents’ house. You don’t have time and it isn’t wise. But before you can answer him, he’s delved his fingers down your pants and is awkwardly rubbing your clit with the irritating obstruction in the way.

“Off.” he tells you again. You ask him to pull over, so he does. It isn’t anywhere hidden, but he doesn’t have time for that. He just wants to make you feel good before you go inside.

You lower your trousers and underwear just enough to give him access. You do your best to keep the volume down, but he feels so good. These few days have been the longest you’ve gone without being intimate with Yuuji. And you’re tense, fuck you’re so tense. He can feel it in the way you’re holding back, the way you don’t want to let yourself go. Because all he’s doing is lightly tracing your sensitive bundle of nerves and you’re already dying to cum.

“Yuuji…” you half gasp half moan at him, screwing your eyes closed as one of your hands grips the arm he’s using to pleasure you and the other is digging nails into the back of your head rest.

“You wanna cum? ‘m not stoppin’ you baby. Cum for me.” he instructs.

And it’s humiliating, really, how submissive your cunt is to its owner. You’re gushing around his gentle fingers as more and more slick pumps out of you. Your chest is heaving, but he leans over to you to kiss your cheek.

He demands that you face him so he can kiss you through your orgasm.

He wants to swallow your moans and remember what a good girl you are for him.

When you finally relax, you’re almost furious. Furious that you’re dripping wet and you’re going to have to ruin your panties and probably your trousers too. Furious that you won’t be able to clean up instantly because you’ll have to socialise for a while with your family, and furious that Yuuji was stupid enough to think any of this was a good idea.

But when you see him sensually lick his fingers clean, you can’t deny the way your pussy jumps at the sight. He’s so fucking perfect. His innocent face performing such a lewd act excites you. You’re so lucky to have him. Because after he finishes cleaning his fingers, he opens the glove compartment on the passenger side and reveals a packet of baby wipes for you to clean yourself up with. He cups the crown of your head and brings you closer to him, leaving a simultaneously hard yet soft kiss on your forehead, and whispering sweet nothings into your hair.

“Such a good girl f’me baby. Y’look so pretty when you cum for me. ‘m so fuckin’ proud of you.” he murmurs into your scalp.

It takes everything inside of you to not unzip his trousers and suck him off to show him just how much you fucking love him. But instead, you hurriedly clean the slick from your folds and Yuuji finally turns into the driveway of your parents’ new estate.

And holy shit.

You didn’t think a house could possibly be bigger than the first.

They deemed the previous butler worthy of staying, apparently. He's a nice man who shows you and Yuuji to where everyone is located. The house is baron, which seems ridiculous to you. What’s the point of having a housewarming party if no one is going to be in the house?

Instead, everyone is situated in the garden. You can’t spot your parents immediately. But there are a lot of familiar faces. Not family friends, although that’s what your mother and father will claim they are.

No, they were nothing but names.

Big names to spread the word about what a beautiful new home your parents have. There is no point in having a new manor house unless your parents can brag about it.

But you do eventually spot them. And a man who you could only see the back of. He's tall, likely around 6’4” in height. He's moving his arms while your parents look at him with an intense gaze, he's story telling. He's well built, extremely large and muscular. It's unusual to you that he's dressed so casually.

You're curious as to how your parents know him, he doesn’t look like the type of person they would allow into their social circle.

And you didn’t recognise him at all.

They all reposition themselves onto a nearby table, Yuuji stands with you as you watch the conversation unfold. You're totally enraptured by the way they converse with each other. And then the stranger sits down. He sits down and gives you the perfect view of the right side of his face.

When you see his profile you just about fainted. Yuuji catches you in his arms as other party goers look concerned. Your parents have finally noticed you, now, and rush over to see you, the man follows, and there's no mistaking him.

While your parents approach with a hastened pace, he almost dawdles behind them. Yuuji lowered you to the ground while everyone fusses around you, asking what was wrong and if you need some water. But you have a clear view of him as he carries on coming towards you.

His hair is black as the night sky in a small country town. It isn’t awfully long, but longer than any other respectable guest who is here today. It looks soft and shiny, but it knew to settle and not move around too much. His green eyes glisten in the sparkling sunshine, and you can see another set of green eyes so vividly in your mind. A pair of green eyes that made your heart race and send sheer terror through your entire being. But what gives it away, what really gives it away, iss the scar.

That fucking scar on the right side of his mouth. It looks old, like he’d had it for years. It's so striking, and that is how you knew there was no mistaking.

It was him.

It was the man from Megumi’s sketchbook.

It takes you a while to calm down after everyone had been fussing over you. But Yuuji had hooked his arms underneath you so he could carry you to a nearby chair.

Your mother snaps her fingers and demands a member of staff instantly get you a drink. Your father dismisses everyone and tells them to continue enjoying the function, he towers over you while your mother crouches on the balls of her feet and strokes your hands.

Yuuji is behind you, circling your shoulders with his thumbs in an attempt to soothe you.

And then there's him.

He's sitting on the same table as you, not paying too much attention to you but wanting to stick around to see that you were okay.

When you have a glass of water in your hand, you down it in just a few seconds and request another. Water dribbles down the sides of your mouth which your mother quickly dabs with a handkerchief.

You were breathe so heavily and so gravelly.

Your mother looks furious at your lack of manners but didn’t want to make a scene in front of the guests. Your gaze is fixed on the man you’d only seen in drawings, he put his phone into his pocket as he decides to give you all his full attention.

“Nice to see ya again kid,” he smiles, the little scar on his lips pulling so deliciously.

You’re certain you’ve never met him, so you were dumbfounded that he claimed to remember you. You didn’t have the energy to speak, it was like something had robbed you of your words.

Your lips open wide enough to speak, but whatever words you’d planned on forming died dead in your mouth when you heard words coming from behind you instead.

“Yeah it’s been a while Mr. Fushiguro, didn’t expect to see you here, sir.” Yuuji replies.

Of course.

Of course Yuuji would know who the mystery man is in the drawings. He’s Megumi’s best friend after all, or he was. Mr. Fushiguro, the name alone made your skin crawl.

Another one of him.

Your mouth is agape, your eyes finding the unknown relative of Megumi’s. He waves his hand around, totally brushing Yuuji off.

“Cut that crap out now kid,” he begins, “call me Toji.” he tells him. Yuuji nods, acquiescing to his request. And then Toji’s eyes find yours. You felt so small under his gaze. “And I haven’t seen you since you were… Four, maybe?” he tells you.

“I- uh…” you clear your throat, “I don’t know you.” you admit.

He laughs, really laughs. You guess he appreciates your honesty. He crosses one leg over the other as he begins to swing back in his chair.

“Don’t sweat it. I’m not one to remember someone’s name either.” he confesses, studying you. He does know you; he really knows you. He’s so comfortable to stare at you and examine you. You want to know how he knows you; you want to inquire as to what relation he is to Megumi, but before you can speak Yuuji talks from behind you once again.

“Are the rest of the Zen’in clan here?” he wonders, his grip of your shoulders tightening.

“Unfortunately,” he responds, your father jostles his elbow into him playfully which makes Toji grin. “They’re around somewhere, more are probably on their way.” he explains. Yuuji nods before leaning down to you, his mouth close enough to your ear that his breath alone forces goosebumps to pinch and form across your whole body,

“We have to go, now.” he buzzes to you.

He doesn’t wait for you to answer before he grabs your hand and drags you away from the table. You both say your polite goodbyes before heading through the manor again. Your parents are dumbfounded, and worse, disgusted at Yuuji’s abrupt rudeness.

“What’s going on Yuuji?” you ask. But he ignores you, pulling you in the direction of the front door.

He swings it open, and you’re both as still as statues. Of all the places, of all the places in the fucking world…

You’re both staring out of the door, and now that you’ve seen Toji in person, the resemblance is striking.

Megumi’s finger is rested on the doorbell he’s holding in. When the three of you break out of your trances, the raven-haired man in front of you clears his throat.

His face doesn’t change. He looks bored, and you hate him for it. It’s that same static facial expression he always has. It’s the way he somehow manages to keep getting away with murder. Because no one would ever believe that this quiet, almost silent person keeps making your life unbearable. His vision rolls between staring at you and then staring at Yuuji. But finally, he’s settled on you.

His eyes are almost as intense as the other Fushiguro’s out in the garden. His lip’s part, and his words make your skin crawl.

“Well well. What do we have here?”

© 2021 fuwushiguro | © 2023 rinhaler

[finniestoncrane]

Hey, I like the new prompts :)

Please could I get 🍃for farrellozzie?

Thank you x

The First Night

Farrell!Penguin x GN!Reader, word count: 600 i'm always feeling sappy and this really spoke to me ;-; wanna be snuggled in his stupid fancy pjs and then hugged all night ough 💜🐧 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: fluff

It was kind of a strange way to move in to a new place. Oswald already lived there. There was nothing you could bring that he didn't have or couldn't replace with something better. And even though he told you repeatedly to bring whatever you wanted, decoration, furniture, whatever, you knew it wouldn't fit in with the lavish decor of his place. Your place, now.

You left the two suitcases full of items you deemed worthy enough to take with you in the hall as Oswald wrapped you in a warm hug and ushered you through to the kitchen. He'd been cooking, making you dinner to celebrate this first night officially together.

"It's just pasta, but it's my grandmother's sauce. Family recipe, well-kept secret. I'll teach you how to make it later, if you want?"

The gesture was filled with warmth and openness, a sign that you were truly being welcomed into his life as a permanent fixture, and not just a flavour of the month he'd decided to keep in his house for easy access.

And while that had worried you before, all of the anxieties melted away as you looked around the space. It was spotless, and you didn't doubt for a second that Oswald had spent all day tidying it himself to make sure it met his exact standards for you. The dining room was set up for two, with champagne resting on ice, and there was a small just below that of the rich tomato sauce. Lavender, your favourite, and Oswald's. A set of three candles on the dining table were likely the source.

"Everything is perfect, Ozzie. I'm excited to see what else you have in store. I feel like I should be dressed better for this."

Mid-way through a tasting sip of the sauce, he mumbled and gasped, before dropping the spoon and rushing round the kitchen island to you.

“Oh, sweetheart! I can’t believe I forgot, I’ve got just the right thing for you to wear. A little gift from me to you.”

As he guided you up the stairs towards his bedroom, you let your mind wander. Oswald was forever buying you gifts, and new outfits were something he was particularly fond of spoiling you with. You’d be pleased with anything, but you hoped it wasn’t too extravagant. As lovely as the house looked, and as romantic as dinner would be, all you really wanted to do was get comfortable in your new home and settle in after packing all of your things up.

Stopping you before you entered the room, you felt his hands cover your eyes from behind.

“Ok, no peeking. Wait until you’re in. And�� tah-dah!”

When you were allowed to look, you noticed there were two, neat piles on the bed. One was Oswald’s usual pyjamas. Purple, silk, monogrammed with his initials, O.C.M. And next to them, an identical set, but with your initials in place of Oswald’s. It wasn’t something fancy, it was exactly what you wanted.

“I figured you don’t wanna get all dolled up just to eat somethin’ messy, kid. Besides, you’re home now. You gotta be comfy. And I… hate to sound presumptuous, but if there comes a, uh, time when you change your name for whatever reason, we can get you a new pair, huh?”

Turning to him, you threw your arms around his neck, burying your face against his chest as he held you close to him. It really wouldn’t have mattered what you were wearing, or whether dinner was something as special as his grandmother’s pasta. It felt like home in his arms.

[mazeinthemiroh]

Hello can I request a skz sleeping with there s/o for the first time 🙂

stray kids sleeping with their s/o for the first time

genre: headcanons; extremely fluffy bruh

word count: 0.8k

warnings: me going through my feels, basically

pls like and reblog if you enjoyed! feel free to request anything <3

bangchan

late night talking

neither of you gets any sleep

his brain just never switches off, so talking into the early hours of the morning comes very easily for him

he always has something interesting to talk about

so you guys talk the night away. i feel like because channie doesn't always have time in the day for you, he makes it up at night time, when he can share these moments one-on-one with you

has his permanent, signature dorky smile whenever he looks at you

would absolutely love to cuddle you if you are comfy with it ;-;

it's just a very fluffy time, i'm totally not jealous 🧑‍🦯

lee know

he shrugs it off as no big deal

plays it cool

but really he is really excited about sharing a bed with you for the first time

he plans it all too

makes his bed up with fresh bed covers, makes sure it looks presentable and that everything else in his room is organised

if you notice this or point it out to him, he's likely to deny he did it just for that night

he doesn't say much. he doesn't want to disturb your sleep and just wants to enjoy your company like this

will probably cuddle you or touch you in some way because he's a massive softie <33333

changbin

he's on his best behaviour from the minute you walk into his room

oh you guys are definitely cuddling tonight

he just HAS to have you in his arms

"i made my arms big for a reason"

"what reason?"

"so you could use them as pillows! >;("

why is he so adorable, i can't handle it

and won't let you go, even in his sleep. his subconscious mind knows better than to not let you go

but before he drifts off to sleep, he just wants to talk about your day

see if he can help with any problems you might be facing :((

brb just gonna go cry now

hyunjin

has a very dreamy look on his face

being a romantic person, hyunjin has thought about pivotal moments in his relationship with you, especially your 'first times' in doing things together: first dates, first anniversary, and now, first time sleeping together

so he makes his bed look presentable, neat and tidy for you

his whole bedroom in general is inviting; he always has a sweet-smelling candle or a humidifier turned on. just wants to make it as relaxing as possible for you, but he doesn't have to do much for that

he's just super sweet, isn't he

wants to just cuddle you and take care of you all the time ;-;

han

lowkey likes to pamper you

like you didn't expect too much for your first time sharing a bed with him

but he gets so excited about it

so he gets a bit carried away

ends up getting you a cute little plushie, as well as setting up a whole skincare sesh for the both of you

because his ideal night involves the image of the both of you with face masks on, eating a takeaway and binge-watching the anime he's gotten into recently

so that's what you guys do

he's literally the cutest and he doesn't even try

felix

SO FLUFFY

literally wraps you up in all the blankets he has

compliments your pyjamas :<

he wants to make sure you're as comfortable as possible. like, that's his priority

overall, he's just so smiley and giggly

you could say the most unfunny thing in the whole world and he just bursts into a fit of giggles

it's so hard not to be relaxed with him because his voice is so soothing and calm. paired with his warm personality and the welcoming atmosphere his bedroom provides, it's safe to say that this is the perfect environment to fall asleep in

seungmin

doesn't know how to act at first

sort of overthinks everything bless him 😭

does he let you do your thing? or does he engage in conversation with you? does he let you have your space? or does he scoop you up in a big ol' hug??

he doesn't know what to do

but he does well to ask you all these things. i think because you make him so comfortable, and the fact your relationship has brought you to this point, reassures him that he's not going to mess anything up

ends spooning you from behind because he's cute like that

jeongin

he is nervous about spending his first night with you

goes on his phone and scrolls through it a couple of times while you're getting ready for bed

suddenly his usual social skills leave his body and he's just sitting there trying to think of things to say

he gets through it though

once you both are all tucked up in bed he starts talking to you about literally anything... just something to get his mind off of panicking

i don't think he realises how charming he can be and it's frustrating yk 😤

[hotluncheddie]

✨hello✨ I’m havin thoughts again and now you bear the brunt of them (I’m so sorry it’s because your writing makes me feral 😈)-

Just thinkin about how Steve would be the service top to end all service tops- like that man would be *so* invested in his partners pleasure yk, like that man gets off on getting his partner off

So enter Eddie- and maybe Eddie’s never had a relationship like this before, where they’re properly dating and all that. And then maybe for whatever reason, Eddie gains weight, gets chubby, a belly, thicker thighs n all that sexy shit,

And Steve is just like 👹🥵😍🥰😘 because now there’s more?? For him to discover??? About Eddie??? And he just gets so invested in seeing how different parts of Eddie get more sensitive, how different positions work better for them, and basically just Steve having the absolute time of his LIFE because all he wants is for Eddie to feel good and it’s like every wet dream he’s ever had:

someone allowing him in and discovering everything they like *with him* and he likes Eddie soooo much and he’s just so happy that the person who’s letting him in is Eddie!! And he gets to do this with Eddie!! And Eddie likes Steve so much too, and he just feels so comfy with Steve because Steve always makes him feel so good about himself✨

Anyways this started as something smutty and then I had to insert schmoopy ass shit into it at the very end because I’m literally incapable of having any other thoughts??? So now I’m leaving this here I’m so sorry

AAAAAAAAAAAAA  *goes outside* *rips all my clothes off* *fucking howls at the moon* 

dude!! don’t apologise!!! thank you thank you for sharing such big brain JUICY thoughts with meeeee!!!! 

i’m just obsessed with like service top steve, service mouth steve, service dom steve like feeds into his praise kink SO well. just wants eddie to feel GOOD. steve just loves hearing it and seeing it and making it happen, just makes him so HARD, fucking LEAKING over the noises and faces he gets eddie to make. 

and like i just have this image of newly chubby eddie wearing his leather jacket, maybe going to steves work to talk to him. but his new belly is peeking out the front, pushing the flaps of the jacket apart and steve just sees it and in his head he’s going crazy. because this eddie is so hot and still so confident and so happy because everything's over and he can relax and god his jeans look so good now with all the meat eddie has on his thighs and steve is just a blushy stammering mess.

like steve who’s just obsessed with being able to bury himself between eddie’s newly thick thighs, them squeezing his head and he’s just able to open his mouth and taste and feel. and maybe his hearing has gone a bit but its okay because eddie is SO loud all the time so steve can always hear what feels good. and eddie never stops taking never stops telling him how good he is, how amazing and perfect it feels. 

maybe they’ve not been dating that long and steve’s just still fixated on the fact that he fucking loves sucking dick. but maybe eddie gets kinda insecure. ‘i barely ever even to touch you stevie’ and steve goes so red because he didn’t really realise it was so noticeable but, like, he just doesn't need eddie to do anything back, because he always gets off on eddie’s moans the feeling of eddie around him and it just the perfect environment for him to rut against the mattress and finish. mind and body foggy and gooey and delicious. he’s ruined so many pyjama pants that way. 

and when he tells eddie all that, eddie just gets gooey and calls him cute and kisses him silly. but then eddie makes a point of spending some nights on just steve, making him moan, whispering the praise right in his ear so he really gets it, knows how good eddie feels with him, how much he thinks about steve when he's alone with just his hand (oh and steve would just LOVE that, getting eddie off even when they’re apart). eddie making them switch positions so eddie can see the look on steve face when he finally tips over the edge. 

or maybe eddie’s had like a little experience with a couple random guys just from like parties here and there. but it always felt like he was performing, like he had to put on a roll, like he couldn’t really enjoy himself. he always had to pay to much attention to if the other guy still liked him, was still into it. so he had fun, got off but it was never a space where he could really let go. but with steve, with steve its like his fucking soul is being bared.  

because steve is just so obsessed with eddie loosing himself and just enjoying it. like steve has to spell it out a bit but eventually eddie gets that steve gets most turned on by eddie being truly in it. just thinking and moving in whatever way feels good. and eddie leans into it. same way he leans into his weight gain. he likes how it feels, how his body has changed, likes eating and doesn’t wanna stop. and steve is SO SO into that, eddie being happy and comfortable and it’s just makes everything hotter. so eddie gets naked way more, wants to try different positions, see what feels best. finds out that he has all these new sensitive parts, all these bits that just light up where steve squeezes them with his big, massive hands. likes slipping into sub space sometimes because he just knows steve will always take care of him. it just feels good, makes them both feel so good. 

like they are the ultimate switch couple, you KNOW they’re trying out every dynamic under the sun, just for the fun of it. pushing matching kinks and playing around to find more kinks and it would just be so fun and gooey and full of love. like so many nights these set ups and bits of foreplay just turn into one sinking into the other, holding each others hands and looking into each others eyes and just making love. 

and i feel like i mention this all the time but i’m obsessed with chubby stoner eddie who just likes snacking on the couch with the tv on and steve under his arm. and i think steve would get a little hot just watching eddie be comfy and indulging and the way him getting full makes his t-shirts fit and i just know that steve would sink to his knees and suck eddie off while eddie just keeps doing what he’d doing.

full horny stoner bf meets sometimes stoned oral fixation bf who loves giving head and loves feeling a belly press against his forehead while he’s doing it. match made it fucking heaven. 

and like chubby whiny eddie who just wants to get looked after because he’s worked a letting these walls he’s built down. knows now that he has someone he can be loved by and he needs to accept it and keep it. because its special, steve is special. and steve who just so so wants to do that for him. has all this love in him that he’s never had reciprocated until now, and he just want to give and look after and be good. so when eddie is full and sleepy and squirming on the couch, just begging steve to fuck him. steve so happily obliges because when eddie wants to get fucked steve is at his fucking service. and its always so good and so hot and so full of love. 

(this was so many tangent parts aaaaa sorry!! and sorry the reply took to long i kept just getting little lines in here and there until i felt like i kinda answered it???) 

[wa-wandavision]

Imaginary | Bang Chan

Bang chan x reader

Summary: you lived in solidarity and self-hatred for as long as you can remember, but that all changes when a handsome blonde man appears in your room. He was perfect and ideal for you. You discover that he's just a figment of your imagination, but does it matter to you if it means you get to be happy?

Sh, eating disorder, self-hatred, insecurities, reader thinking too much, suicidal thoughts, depression (Detailed)

Wc: 1723

You lay on your side on the mattress, your eyes unfocused, as you think about your life—about everything, really. Dry tears stain your cheeks, and an ache in your head blooms, continuously banging with every slight move you make. 

Your heart weighed heavily on your chest as you lay emptily on your bed. It didn't even feel like a heart in your chest anymore; instead, it felt like a big, heavy stone weighing you down with even the slightest step and actions, and you didn't know what to do to make that feeling go away. Your mind felt like it was detached from you, stuck in a very dark place with no way back to its rightful place.

You shuffle in your bed, your eyes squeezing shut from the banging in your head as your hair sprawled messily on your pillow. Your puffy eyes ached, the strong light in your room making your eyes hurt and struggling to keep it open. You desperately wanted to get up from your warm comfy bed, but whenever you think about doing it, the stone in your chest weighs heavier, pinning you down further into your bed.

Why are you still alive at this point? You were worthless and useless, nobody was gonna miss you if you grab the blade in your nightstand drawer and drag it across your throat and wrist. In fact, you think they would be better off without you. All you did was lay on your bed, cut everyone off and think about your life, past regrets and compare yourself to others out of self disgust and hatred.

You think about your childhood and your current life, and quickly, the feeling of guilt nagged at your chest. Your childhood life and current life wasn't bad but it wasn't great and perfect either, and it made you feel horrible for making it seem like such a big deal. 

But if it wasn't horrible and such a big deal then why do you want to end it all? 

You sighed deeply, shuffling in your bed, your nose immediately scrunching in disgust as you accidentally sniffed your pyjamas. Your cotton night dress stinks very badly and you knew you wouldn't sleep because of it, even if you tried. You stink badly. With a tired groan, you lift your head up heavily and stare at your room door in utter despair. 

Your head hits the silky pillow gently as you zone out once more. You can shower tomorrow, it doesn't have to be right now.. , but…you wouldn't be able to sleep knowing that you absolutely reek. You haven't showered in weeks, and if you weren't going to do it now, then when are you? You eye your front door with a frown and sigh heavily. With heavy movements, you slowly sit up from your bed. 

You sluggishly pull yourself up from your bed and sigh, forcing yourself not to lay back down again. It was very tempting not to lay down again. With one last sigh, you force yourself to fully get up from your bed. 

Your hair was tangled, frizzy, and matted, and your lips were dry and cracked. You roll out your tongue lazily and lick your lips to moisturise them.

You felt like an old lady as you stood with a slouched posture and slightly bended knees. With a small, tired noise, you slowly straighten your posture and legs. With slow, sluggish steps, you walk to the lamp sitting on your table opposite your bed. You reach to the switch on flick it, a click filling your ears immediately. 

A faint orange colour illuminated the room a little, but it was barely seen as the main light in your room concealed it.

Now, you finally saunter to the door, switch off the light with a small click, and finally exit your bedroom. The only light coming from your bedroom was the orange hue coming from the lamp on your table.

Even though the hallway to the bathroom was dark, you still placed your hands on each side of your face as you groggily passed a tall mirror on your way to the bathroom.

You opened the bathroom door with the side of your bottom and stepped in, not bothering to open the lights.

You began to strip. 

Almost two hours later, you hear something fall on the ground in your room as you continue to fall victim to your frustrating thoughts. You snap back to reality and narrow your eyes at the sound. From what you remembered, no windows were opened, and not a single door was unlocked.

Your heart raced anxiously as you over thought about what fell and what caused it.

Maybe… Was it the wind? No, that wouldn't make any sense; all windows were closed. It could be ghosts, but yet again, ghosts are not real. In your opinion, at least. Or maybe it was just something that wasn't placed properly. Yeah, that was it. It must've been that—nothing else.

You go back to lazily scrubbing yourself, but you soon tense up and pause once you hear another thing fall. Your heart rate skyrocketed immediately, leaving you hyperventilating. You let out shaky breaths as the hot water continued to hit your scalp and scarred skin.

You stand up slowly from the bathtub and turn off the shower, carefully stepping out so you don't slip. You don't want that to happen. You don't think your body can handle another bruise from your clumsiness and laziness. 

You grab your pyjamas you left on the radiator two days ago. You remembered that you had wanted to try and shower, but you just went back to bed.

You pull the pyjama top over your wet head and then slide your legs into the pyjama pants. Your hair dripped and slightly drenched your pyjama top.

You slip your wet slippers on and silently pull the bathroom door open, which was a little difficult for you since you haven't used your arms in a few days. They were very lazy and weak at the moment.

You slowly and carefully walked to the guest room, narrowly avoiding the creek on the stairs. The guest room had baby toys since your cousin came by to see you a few weeks ago, and they had forgotten to take the toys with them. 

In the guest room, you quickly but tensely grab a yellow plastic hammer toy from the ruffled bed. Sure, the hammer was a toy, but it was big, so it will do perfectly for the attack. It was perfect to create minor damage, like bruises. Nothing serious.

With determination, you walk out of the guest room with slightly lifted arms as you raise the hammer, gripping the yellow handle tight. 

You gulp as you see a figure in the middle of your room, back turned against you. It looked like a man. You breathe heavily, but you still have some determination left in you. All you had to do was attack the man and give him the scolding of his life. And integrate him! You can't forget about that. 

On accident, you step on the creaky part of the short stairs, and you immediately tense, your breath hitching faintly. Dumb you. How could you forget about the stairs? 

You gulp and breathe faster in fear as you see the man stiffen but not move from his spot. 

You clutch on the handle of the toy hammer with narrowed eyes, determined to make him realise that he picked the wrong house to break into and shoo him out of your house. 

You get ready to pounce, and with a war cry, you raise your hammer and hurry to your room with a slight run.

First hit on his head, then his back, and then back to his head again. He yelps with each hit, but you ignore it and continuously hit the man's head with determination. 

“How. Did. You. Get. In. My. House, Old Man?!" You yell with each blow at his head.

The blonde man hisses and yelps in pain from the force of your hits. He lost his balance, tripped on the edge of the rug, and landed on the ground on his side with a small, painful huff. 

“You sneaky son of a-”

“Ah, stop, stop, stop, stop!” The man yelled out, his voice broken from the pain as he shielded himself—mostly his head—interrupting you mid-sentence. 

You pause in surprise as you hear him speak, ceasing your abuse on his head, the yellow toy hammer pausing halfway to his head also. “Oh… I didn't know you could speak. So the burglar speaks, huh?” You say, surprised, before snapping out of it. You give his head a good last bonk with the hammer before stepping back a little, your eyes on him closely and cautiously as he lays in pain on the rugged floor. 

He groans and hisses in pain, and he rubs his head to ease the pain a little. The blonde man hurries up to stand, his back still turned towards you. He huffs and mumbles to himself in annoyance, wiping away the imaginary dirt from his clothes.

You continue to stare at him blankly, waiting for him impatiently to turn around to you and show his face. “You’re stupid for thinking you can weirdly sneak in and steal something from my house,” you say coldly, but he doesn’t say anything. He still continued to rub the imaginary dirt from his clothes. “Ya! I’m talking to you," you snap.

You hear him sigh, and you see him pause for a moment. You were taken aback to hear him speak... and for his voice to be soft. “Wait- I’m sorry, did you say steal? I don’t want to steal anything.” In a swift motion, the blonde man turns to you, and God…

He had sharp but soft features. His eyes were the perfect shade of brown, his lips were plum and the ideal shade of pink. And his nose...his nose was so defined.How could someone bad like him look this perfect?

You didn’t believe him. If he didn’t want to steal, then why did he sneak into your house? He seriously needs to be a better liar. You stare blankly at him, about to interrogate him and give him the scolding of his life.

Tags: @delulu18

[muffinsin]

Hi pookie! I’m sick rn and it’s setting off my sensory issues so much- so I was wondering how the dimi sisters would comfort an s/o who has autism and is overstimulated from being sick? I personally like wrapping myself in like… 5000 blankets for the compression and heat- but it gets too hot 3: i always have a specific super soft blanket at the bottom lol. And I get killer sore throats every time I get sick 💀Anywho- I feel icky and I don’t like it :/ - 🪶

Hiii! Pookie?👀 Awh hon, you just aren’t lucky with the sicknesses- I hope you’ll feel better soon! :) as always, my dms are open should I be of any help :)

And absolutely! As always with these kind of asks- I’m not autistic myself and only go based on experiences I am told about :)

Let’s get into it!🙌🫶

Masterlists

Bela

She notices the signs of your sickness immediately, and is ready to coddle you and care for you the second they make an appearance

She ensures you’re comfy and insists you stay in bed

Of course, Bela supplies you with plenty of soup and tea, as well, only the kind(s) you like, or can stand

She insists, tea is good for humans

While normally making the staff prepare meals, Bela takes this on herself

She’s naturally protective of you, yes

But when you’re sick?

She is incredibly protective

She dislikes leaving your side, but even more so- she doesn’t allow others to prepare your food

While it’s unluckily someone dares poison you, downright stupid, she does not care for this

She wants to ensure your safety

She needs to

And such, she takes upmost precision in her task

Studying instructions and even tugging a few maids to the side to prepare the tea right in front of her, under her watchful eye

Once done and satisfied, she brings you the pot and cups up to her room

Even if you have your own room, she insists you stay with her while you’re sick, and on the mend

Wrapped under your favourite blankets, she giggles when you poke your head out to watch her enter the room

The room is dimly lit, no bright lights or so

It’s comfortably warm, even more so under your blankets

Books and papers, pencils, stuffed animals and toys are littered on the bed in hopes of keeping you company and entertained when she must work- you know, she is never too far

She coos as she rests her hand on your forehead and feels its warmth. You’re burning up, she thinks

Truthfully, you always feel warm to her, but now especially so. She figures a fever is a relatively safe bet

Eagerly, you press into her touch

Her skin is cool, soothingly so. It feels amazing in contrast to your warm skin

Bela smiles sadly at this. If only she could open the window a little bit for you…

Still, both of you know the windows can’t be opened while she prevails in the room

She can’t help but giggle again, though, when you shake suddenly

She doesn’t mean to, really

She wishes she could help you, too. It just looked too cute and funny

However, the sound makes you laugh a little as well, despite the ache in your throat

Immediately, the action draws a wince from you, and Bela sits down on the bed to you

She wonders- how can she help you?

You whine again, unsure how to communicate what you want. You aren’t even all that sure what you need yourself

Upon noticing the warmth that radiates from you, she lightly tugs on one of the many blankets covering you

Immediately, you protest

“But aren’t you by far too warm, little one?”, she can’t help but wonder

Bela never has qualms about being too warm, but you? You don’t quite share her biology, after all

She would’ve thought the warmth- this much of it- must be uncomfortable

She feels you sweat, and immediately frowns in concern- she knows, you’ll likely want a bath, yet feels you aren’t quite strong enough for one just yet

You can’t help but wince again- it’s as though everything is too much

Your pyjama, clinging onto you due to the sweat. It feels like a second skin that traps you in place

The blankets, though soft and warm, are simply too warm

Yet, the second you move them or even stick a leg out, you’re shivering

Your throat, burning, aching, hurting so bad

Bela notices your hand flap for a moment, betraying your discomfort as tears begin to roll down your eyes

Immediately, she swarms under the blanket with you to pull you close

At this, surprisingly though, you already calm down

Bela yelps in surprise when you pull her flush against you, your arms wrapping around her entirely and your head resting on her breasts

She’s so cool, her skin so perfectly cold

Just right

Not too cold to make you shiver,

Just cold enough to harmonise with the warmth of the blankets

You sigh, finally feeling a little bit more content

She seems to understand though, and just smiles down at you

Gladly, she becomes your teddy bear if it makes you feel better

With one of her hands at the back of your neck and head, she gently runs her fingertips along your skin to soothe

With the other, she reaches for the tea to hand it to you

If only she had something for your throat!

She will talk with the duke soon regarding this, bring you cough drops and syrup, even if she cringes at the smell

All for her human. You’re her everything

Cassandra

Cassandra is immediately with you when she hears your fast, distressed heartbeat

You shriek when she appears in front of you, sickle raised and eyes darting around the room to scan it for a threat. When her eyes land on you, she immediately sees what’s wrong- you’re sick

She sinks to her knees when she finds you sit on the ground, her hands hovering above yours. With a nod of your head, she pulls you against her

She giggles when you worry about how sweaty you are, and about infecting her. Nonsense! She loves your scent, and she isn’t fussed about catching some of the bacteria

Her touch feels- amazing

Everything was too much. Your sore throat that tickles when you swallow. Your ears, your hands, the warmth you feel, the cold, all of it too much

It’s as though you feel everything- your skin, your bones, your clothing, the floor under you

Cassandra’s touch is grounding. She helps you focus on her, and only her

She’s strong and hard, but her skin is soft. It’s cool, and soothes your skin when you think it’s about to burn off you from the heat you feel

She hums for a moment, and you relax fully. She’s perfect for you

She smells strongly of blood, which has you sniffle. This makes her giggle a little- you’re so cute to her

Her precious little human. Her little lamb

It pains her to see you sick. Is there something she can do? Yes, but one thing after the other

Cuddling until you have enough or are no longer in need of it, she unwraps her arms from you

The first thing she offers is a bath

She knows, both of you are in need of one, and she doesn’t want to overwhelm you with the scents, even if you can’t smell them as intensely as her

Gently, she eases you off the floor and into the bathroom

She isn’t all that sure how to function the tub, really, and is thankful when you croak out some instructions

Still, at last she manages, and eases you into the tub

You wince at the light, and she immediately goes to turn it off. It’s quite nice, really, and her eyes nearly glow a little in the dim light

She is careful, yet loving, touching only when you allow her to with a nod of your head. She doesn’t want to end up overwhelming you more when she’s finally getting closer to calming you, after all

Cassandra hums lowly, her fingertips playing with the water surface as you get used to the warm water around you

Once set, she gently helps you rinse yourself off

She promises, she will get a bath after. She doesn’t want to turn your water red and dark from the filth and blood that clings to parts of her

And she sticks to her promise. As you finish up in the bath, she gently guides you to the bed

Placing your favourite blanket on the sheets and below you, she covers you with two more. Just to be sure

If it didn’t hurt your throat this much, surely you’d giggle at her coddling

Who would have thought- sadistic, “evil” Cassandra Dimitrescu, tucking you in and blushing a little when you shoot her a thankful smile

She’s always been good at knowing what you’re trying to tell her without the use of words

Abandoning her sickle for you to- play with?- she runs off to find you some medicine

You smile at this. While you don’t share her interest in weapons, it’s sweet of her to leave hers for you. You know she likes it a great deal

As she returns, she easily carries medicine and cough drops, stuffed animals scattered around the room, and even a platter containing snacks she’s found in the kitchens

You eat as she washes up, and smile when she returns and smells of the soap you picked out, as well as the subtle aroma of the woods she seems to always carry with her

It’s rare for her not to smell of blood, and you know it won’t last long. Still, you want nothing but to cuddle her now

To feel her cold skin against yours, by far too warm in comparison, to feel grounded by her arms around you

When she finds you squirming under the warm blankets already and looking up at her with big eyes, she already knows your silent question

Groaning and scoffing playfully, she gets in bed and allows you to cuddle her

You smile to yourself when she plays with her sickle and the sheets, as though to let you know;

She won’t leave. She wants you to rest, but she will still be there by the time you awaken

Daniela

She’s immediately by your side when you tell her you’re sick, and she won’t want to leave

Daniela doesn’t understand how you got sick, or even what sickness you have

She doesn’t understand humans all that much, at least as it comes to these things

But really? She doesn’t need to, either. She cares about you, for you, and that’s all that matters

You feel uncomfortable, overwhelmed. That’s all that is important to your lover

Putting you in her bed and covering you with the kind of blankets you like, she can’t help but press a small kiss to your nose

“It’ll be okay, my love. I’m here, my sweet”, she reassures

She asks, gently, if you can tell her what’s bothering you or how to help you

Daniela’s go to are cuddles

She doesn’t know many other means to help you

She dims the bright light of the room when it gets too much, and cuddles closer to you, insisting you must get some rest

Still, the ache in your throat hurts and your head throbs

As such, rest is nearly impossible to get, as you let the snoring woman know

Upon being woken up, Daniela tiredly offers to get you some blood. She insists, only the best for her little hu-

Oh, yes

You’re human

Humans don’t like blood, she recollects!

Giggling at this, she promises to bring you whatever you ask of her. She doesn’t want you to get out of bed, but will bring you all your heart desires

She brings you all kinds of things, unsure what a human wants or needs

Water, tea, soup, chicken, salad, bread, vegetables, candy, syrup, medicine for all kinds of things, juice, even some cookies she stole from her sister’s room

She offers you to change, or stay undressed entirely

It helps her, sometimes, to feel skin to skin contact without clothing

She also knows, sometimes you just dislike the fabric of your clothing

Daniela is perfect to snuggle, and she is convinced: cuddling can solve all

And lucky for you, Daniela happens to be the best snuggler around

With her arms around you and her chest pressing against your back, she talks quietly about her day as you eat

Her touch is grounding, and comforting

Her cool skin allows you to absorb the heat of the blankets without getting too warm

Occasionally, she steals some of the food she’s brought you, bearing only a small, innocent grin when you turn your head to look at her with a knowing smile

While blood is her favourite, the candy she’s brought is just too tempting!

“I didn’t do anything…!”, she insists, giggling, even as her breath smells sweet of the candy she just plopped in her mouth

She surrounds the two of you with many stuffed animals and reads to you in a gentle voice

Any of her stuffed animals are yours too, to hold and snuggle. They’re soft, and it makes you smile

She too believes sleep is the best medicine. It’s what’s been taught to her, after all

As such, she grants you a lot of rest, nearly all day

She encouraged you to sleep a lot, and eagerly dozes off as well when she is sure you’re asleep

And, of course, she is always still there when you awaken, often snoring lightly or snuggled up against you or a stuffed animal

Blankets cover both of you, her cool thigh against yours relaxing you when it gets too warm under the blanket

Surprisingly, the medicine she’s brought actually helps quite a bit, so that your throat aches less and you don’t feel the irritation with every breath

Your head feels clearer, and your skin less tingly. It feels nice again

[russellsppttemplates]

Our village (Charles Leclerc)

It takes a village, they say, and Charles and his wife Y/N turn out to discover they have the best one.

Note: english is not my first language. This is a very important topic, and while I didn't get to clinical with it, I hope I treated it respectfully! 

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated, and while I'm not actively taking requests, I am writing some blurbs when I can (usually at nighttime when I can) so if you have any ideas or concepts that can be written in a small amount of sentences and you want to share, feel free to do so!

Tw: swearing, postpartum, baby blues, self doubt

"Amour, can you hand me that bottle, please?", you asked Charles for the bottle of water that stood on the coffee table as you breastfed your son, feeling that you weren't getting much out today, "here", he said as he handed it to you, "Do you need anything else?", he asked gently before you shook your head, the both of you looking at your son in your arms, "you're getting better at this, little one", you said in a relief, remembering the first weeks where you had to try a million and one positions and tricks, even reaching out for a consultation with a specialist so she could help you feed your baby boy, "You've been amazing, amour, I don't know how to thank you for how much you do for him, for us, for our little family", he said as he squeezed your arm reassuringly, coming to kiss your cheek before smiling at the sight of a milkdrunk Hervé."I'm going upstairs with Hervé, see if I can set him down in his cot", you said softly as you walked upstairs after dinner with your baby boy in your arms, ready to put him to sleep while Charles finished tidying in the kitchen. You two had bath time, changed him into comfy pyjamas and fed him one last time before rocking him to sleep, the baby settling well almost on his own as you took a deep breath. Motherhood was hard. Fulfilling and a role you wouldn't trade for the world, but it was so fucking hard. You have been stretching to the furthest of your abilities, trying to make sure everything was right and doing well, but it was exhausting you. Hearing your husband's steps coming up, you dried the tears that insisted on falling and stood by the ensuite bathroom's door so you could enter it as soon as he reached the room, "I'm going to take a shower, okay?", you said before Charles could say anything other than a hum of agreement, not letting him continue and ask why you had been crying like he wanted to, noticing the difference in your tone. Looking over Hervé, he softly traced his cheek before kissing his head softly, then going over to the drawer where he kept his t-shirts and then the drawer where you kept your pyjamas bottoms, also grabbing the lotion you enjoyed for your skin and, when you finished in the shower, he knocked on the door, asking for permission to come in as he watched you wrap yourself in your fluffy robe, "is Hervé okay? Do you need me for something?", you asked as he sensed the worry on your voice, "Come here with me", he said as he guided you to the bedroom, not missing the way your eyes went straight to the cot, "I want to pamper you tonight, if you'll allow me", Charles said as he kissed the nape of your neck. "What if he needs me fo-", you tried to fight it, your brain telling you that you didn't need to rest and relax, what you had to do was prepare for the next day, "He's right there, asleep", Charles said before he turned you to face him, "and I want to show you how amazing you are and how grateful I am for you, if you'll allow me", he said with a pang of guilt and nervousness, wondering if this had been a good idea, "Okay", you murmered and settle his thoughts as well as your own. Charles asked for your permission to take the robe off, kissing your shoulders as he showed all his feelings towards you, and you let yourself feel the appreciation as he helped you rub the product in your skin, putting on the clothes and brushing your hair, putting into a braid, the words of appreciation and love you felt from his touches and the words he whispered making you feel better about yourself for a little, "Mon amour", he said while you opened the sheets on your side of the bed, "Why were you crying when I got here? And, while I won't force you to answer, it's not the first time I've seen you like that and, and I'm worried for you", he said softly, not wanting to seem like he was scolding you, instead wanting to show his worry for your well being. Taking a deep breath, you fiddled with your fingers before you seeked the comfort of his hand in yours, lacing your fingers as you traced his rings, as well as his wedding band, "I've been feeling... a lot of things", you started softly, your husband not pressuring you to speak and accepting your touch, "I feel like I'm not doing a good job at keeping everything together, and the next second I look at him and am overwhelmed with this love that I have for him, but it is because I love him so much that I'm so afraid of taking a bad step or making a wrong decision", you said as tears welled up in your eyes again, thinking how bad you must look in Charles' eyes. Proving you wrong, he gave you a cuddle while he rubbed your arms, wanting to have some contact with you while still looking into your eyes, "Amour, that little boy loves you so much. You're his mama, and it is because you're so attentive to him that you can't do him wrong. You did an amazing job growing him inside you, laboured like a champion and everyday you're making sure everything is good. Why do you feel like that?", he asked softly, wanting to know exactly what was bothering you, "There's this little, tiny human that we made and that we have to keep alive, happy and fed... and I couldn't even do that! Something so simple and natural and I couldn't even do that for him", referring to the harder times you had breastfeeding your baby boy, "the doctor said it could take a bit for him to get used to it, remember how she said he seemed to be a bit lazy on it all too?", he said in an attempt to make you smile, "he sees a boob and he's already so relaxed he doesn't even remember how to eat, he's so close to his mama that it comforts him totally almost", Charles said as you smiled a little, wiping the tears under your eyes while his other hand brushed the hairs on your forehead, "it is not your fault, mon amour, you're doing amazing", he said as he kissed your forehead sweetly, "Like the doctor said, if we top him up with formula, it will be fine", you mused, now rearranging your negative thoughts with the help of your husband's encouraging words, "exactly, which leaves me to have some cuddles too with you two on my chest", he smiled back. . Charles informed himself as much as he could, seeking out information from his friends who had kids, colleagues and family and it all came to one thing: having a good support system and, when he thought about it, you were very fortunate in that sense, so he arranged everything. His brothers and mother had been wanting to visit the three of you once you felt comfortable enough with it, so there was no time like the present. "Amour", Charles said as he held Hervé in his chest, "would you be open to have my brothers and mother around tomorrow?", he asked as you thought about it, "it would be nice, having some company around, nothing wrong with you, mon petit, but you fall asleep on us quite quickly", you said as you approached your boys, kissing the smallest one's cheek, "and we haven't seen them in a bit", you smiled before kissing your husband, coming back to what you were doing, leaving a smile on Charles' face as he felt that you had slowly been making progress and believing in yourself a little bit more everyday. While Charles was arranging the table for you to eat, Pascale stayed in the living room with you while you fed Hervé, "there you go, petit, just a little bit more and your tummy will be full", you encouraged, using all the tips ans tricks you had picked up upon that helped him feed better on your boob before you got up to burp him, "you're doing so well, I'm very proud of you two", Pascale said as she watched you, "I had no doubt about what an amazing mother you'd be, or Charles as a father, but you just fall so well, it's like you were made for it", she smiled sweetly and it brought tears to your eyes when you found yourself agreeing with her words almost instantly, "Oh, no, chérie, I hope those are happy tears", she said a little panicked before you shook your head quickly, "don't worry, they're all happy tears. No more sad tears to cry now", you said, "you raised Charles to be a wonderful man, he's been a rock since day one", you said as you kissed your son's forehead before passing him for some grandma cuddles, seeing Charles leaning by the door with his arms crossed, a smile on his handsome face at three of the people who mattered most to him."What's for lunch?", Arthur asked as he sat down next to you, "I made some lasagna, and I also made some to freeze so you can just get out and on the oven when you're busier", Lorenzo announced to you and Charles, "thank you, it helps a lot when the day just goes by and we've had enough of the same two dishes we can think of", you said as you hugged him, "and I also made some dessert", he pointed to the bowl at the end of the table with your favourite sweet treat, "I have no complains in who I married, but your parents made it really hard to not fall in love with you all", you teased before you cuddled to Charles who sat on the other side next to you, kissing his jaw while you peeked over to see Hervé sleeping in his bassinet, "look", you pointed between your husband and son, "the same pout, you pouty boys", you said before you pressed a full kiss on his lips, "je t'aime".While you took the opportunity to have a nice long shower, Charles, Lorenzo and Arthur took it in their hands to clean the kitchen while Pascale ran to the supermarket for some items that you had missing in your cupboards, "Arthur, please be careful with those, they're Y/N's favourite plates", Charles warned as he saw his little brother attempt to scrub the plates from lunch, looking over to the living room to see his older brother rock his son back to sleep after he had woken up a bit fussier than usual, not wanting to interrupt your self care time and taking matters to his hands, proving that he had some sort of magic enchantment, "we should hire you for the nights where he's fussy", Charles chuckled as he watched his son sleep peacefully on his uncle's arms, "you and Y/N have done a great job with him, he's the most content and chilled baby ever", Lorenzo added, "You saw both of us grow up, your comparison terms aren't the best since we were a handful", Charles chuckled as he finished arranging the table runner, "exactly because of that. He's so gentle, and soft, and cute, aren't you, petit Leclerc?", he said as he tapped his nose.. Pierre and his family had decided to visit you, their own little boy now able to travel a lot better, prompting them to take the weekend to visit you. "It was a lot for me, I read about how feeding is hard but I never thought it would be this hard, and it's true when they say that if he is still hungry, fortunately there is formula out there and he can have some, but I just felt like I failed him, that I had failed as a mother, both to him and our family", you gulped, "but now we have this chubby monkey, look at these thighs, absolutely delicious!", she said as she pinched them slightly, not wanting to wake him up, "something I used to do with Alexandre too was just keep some on hand, if he wanted to eat it, good, if he didn't we could always arrange it and it made life so much simpler, even for night feeds with Pierre", she explained, "we're doing the same, we both stay up but it's nice to just have the option there, and it seems to be working well for us too", you explained as you remembered your night cuddle sessions where, despite the tiredness, Hervé laid on your husband's chest next to your head as he was being fed, "And how have you been dealing with body stuff, you know, changes and all?", she asked, "I tried those stretches you sent me, thank you again because they helped a lot", you said, "right? One of my sister's in law sent it to me and I was shocked at how good they were", she said as you agreed, "I felt so much better afterwards, like my back wasn't pulling anymore, my hips were not as tense", you said, "navigating postpartum body is a lot, I remember me and Pierre were like headless chickens just trying to understand how things were going", she admitted, "Oh, Charles has been making it known he has no problems there", you blushed, "there's not a day where he doesn't compliment my body, and any chance he gets he's leaving kisses and touches in my tummy and my hips and thighs, everywhere really", you kept blushing as you remembered his attentiveness, "and he's been helping me with the stretches because Goodness knows I can't reach my toes like that", you chuckled with her before Hervé fussed around for a bit, waking up and looking for you, "are you up, little mister?", you cooed as you picked him up from the little cocoon you had made for him to nap on, "you are, and probably hungry too", you said as you earned a gummy smile, "really hate to tell you this, because it's the same with me, but that is Charles in a mini form", she chuckled and you went along with her, unstrapping the bra and positioning him correctly, "I have to learn to accept it, I guess, you're lucky you're very handsome, mon petit", you said, "And you? How are these months treating you?", you asked knowing they could be equally challenging, "Alexandre is pretty good now, sleep issues and all we've had before seem to be fixed now, and it's amazing seeing them experience things for the first time, we visited Pierre's family the other day and Alexandre couldn't stop looking at the dog and gave such a delicious giggle when the dog licked his hand", she said fondly as she remembered the moment, "and they grow up so fast", she mused.Back in the kitchen, Pierre, Charles and Alexandre, sound asleep on his father's arms, talked about this new adventure of their lives, "so much changes, but it's so amazing, I still can't believe I have a baby boy with the love of my life", Charles said as Pierre nodded, chuckling, "Look at us, just a few years ago we were excited to go skydiving and Y/N was on the ground ready to drown you in kisses as soon as you landed on your feet, and now we get excited for gummy smiles and baby smell", he said as he kissed the top of Alexandre's head, "this is the craziest adventure of my life. But also the best. Y/N took it a bit harder at the begging, but fortunately it only looked up from there", Charles mused. "They do so much like, they have a baby and then their body somehow knows what to do and go back to functioning like it did before the baby", Pierre let out his thought, "they're champions, absolute champions. I can't wait for all the memories, especially since the boys are so close in age", Charles mused, "wonder if they'll be as competitive as we were in whatever they choose to take interest in", leaving Pierre to roll his eyes, "Hervé is Y/N's and your child, that is a given trait. Big fighters who don't give up easily".

[chelseachilly]

THIS LOVE - chapter two | the lights are so bright but they never blind me

pairing: ben chilwell x reader

rating: T

word count: 2.1k

summary: you have to adjust to life in the public eye as ben’s supposed girlfriend...and ben has to adjust to the sight of you wearing his chelsea kit to a game

A/N: thanks for more lovely messages, they really encourage me to update faster lol! i’m sorry this one’s a bit shorter, the next update will definitely be longer 😌 chapter title is from welcome to New York

previous chapter | view all chapters

The morning after the gala, you wake up in Ben’s guest room feeling relaxed and refreshed.

You always seem to get a better sleep when you stay at his, though you’re not sure if that’s due to his comfy mattress and expensive sheets or the fact that he lives out in Cobham and it’s significantly quieter than your own flat.

This state of relaxation lasts for about five minutes, or until you get a text from your friend Valerie asking if you’ve been on Twitter today.

Bracing yourself, you open the app and already see Ben’s name trending.

You’ve gained some followers over the years when Ben has posted you on his socials, but it’s nothing compared to the way people are currently talking about you all over the internet.

It’s not just on Twitter - your Instagram following count has already grown exponentially, and your comments are filled with everything under the sun, from praise to cruelty.

You know Ben gets shit like this all the time, and Mia warned you it would be coming your way, but it’s still surreal to read about yourself online.

Especially when none of it is true. Even the nice tweets about what a lovely couple you make are based on a lie.

You can’t resist going down the rabbit hole for a few minutes, reading pages of tweets from Ben’s fans speculating about your relationship, some negative and some positive. Eventually, you can feel your brain starting to hurt, and you know it’s in your best interest to shut your phone off for a while.

Begrudgingly, you force yourself to get out of bed and face the day. You make your way downstairs in your pyjamas, stretching your arms out as you enter the kitchen.

Ben is already awake, like he usually is at this time, and he’s standing by the stove in joggers and an old Nike sweatshirt, flipping pancakes that you know are not a part of his diet plan.

“Pancakes?” you question, startling Ben a bit as he turns to face you.

“Morning,” he says with a small smile. “Yeah, with blueberries. They’re for you. Figured it’s the least I could do since-“

“Since I’m being torn apart online by football fans?” you joke - or, at least, you mean it as a joke.

Ben’s face falls, his eyes wide with concern, and he sets down the spatula to walk over to you.

“I am so sorry, Y/N,” he says seriously. “I didn’t know it would be like this. I’ve obviously never had a real girlfriend before, so I didn’t think about it.”

“Ben, it’s-”

“I called Shreya as soon as I saw everything and had her prepare an exit strategy, she’s already confirmed our relationship to the press but she thinks we can back out of it if-“

“Ben,” you say a bit more firmly, placing a hand on his arm. “Why would we need to back out of this? Does she not think it’s working?”

Ben just blinks at you for a moment before shaking his head. “Well, no, actually. Apparently I’m getting great press from it, and you’re the one getting all the shitty comments. But I-”

“I’m fine with it, then,” you shrug. “I’ll just make my Instagram private, you know I don’t really care about social media anyways. I’ll be fine.”

Ben still doesn’t look convinced.

“Are you sure? I hate the thought of you having to read that crap,” he mumbles. “I’m used to the pricks, but you shouldn’t have to be.”

“It’s fine, Ben, I swear,” you insist, squeezing his shoulder. “Actually, some of your fans seem to like me. Or they like that I supposedly keep you grounded or whatever bullshit Shreya fed the press.”

“Well, that part’s not total bullshit,” Ben says with a small smile that makes your cheeks flush slightly. “Thank you again for doing this. And you can still change your mind at any time, you know.”

“I know,” you say, mirroring his smile. “Now hurry up before you burn my pancakes.”

“Oh, shit!”

-

By the next weekend, you’ve gotten pretty used to “dating” Ben.

You go private on your socials as you discussed, with the official statement from Ben’s publicist being that you two ask for privacy as a new couple. Naturally, this only makes everyone more interested, including the media.

As Shreya hoped, the headlines now describe Ben as a “man in love” and someone ready to “settle down with a nice girl.” There are tabloid articles with pictures of you two - some from before you were even pretending to date - and all the information they could dig up on you, including your job.

It’s all a bit weird, but the weirdest part is definitely when you have to actually corroborate your story of being Ben’s girlfriend. Which, as far as everyone outside your inner circle is concerned, you now are.

It definitely feels strange lying when, for example, one of the doctors you work with congratulates you on your relationship. (Turns out her son is a Chelsea fan and she wants to know if you could ask him to sign a kit or something, which you promise to make happen.)

You’re relieved when the only event you have to attend this weekend is Ben’s game, which you would’ve gone to anyways. You’re also going with his sister Alex, who is obviously in on the whole thing, which makes it easier.

She meets you at your flat, which is conveniently only about ten minutes away from Stamford Bridge on the tube, an hour before the game.

After you tightly embrace Ben’s sister, who is like a younger sister to you as well, she grins and passes you a small gift bag.

“You got me a present?” you ask in confusion.

“It’s not from me, it’s from Ben,” she chuckles. “He also said to say he’s sorry and that it was Shreya’s idea.”

You open the bag and pull out a familiar article of clothing - a brand new Chelsea shirt with Ben’s name on the back.

Of course, as Ben’s girlfriend, it would make sense that you be wearing his kit.

“Oh, god, let me go change.”

Once you’ve replaced the plain blue t-shirt you were wearing with the shirt Ben sent over, you walk back out and find Alex with an amused look on her face.

“How do I look?” you ask a bit sarcastically as you do a twirl.

“Like a proper WAG,” Alex laughs. “Let’s go, my future sister-in-law.”

You groan as Alex grabs you by the arm and you depart for the match.

Although you’ve come to see Ben play at the Bridge more times than you can count, you have never felt this many eyes on you as you make your way to your seats. There are people not-so-subtly taking your photo as you walk up, probably made all the worse by the Chilwell kit you have on - though you suppose that’s the point.  

The match begins, and you cheer at the top of your lungs for Chelsea, just as you have from the day Ben signed for them. You never really cared that much about football, and you didn’t support any particular club growing up, but you’ve always been Ben’s number one fan.

Today, he’s playing well, making you as proud as ever. It’s not hard to pretend to be the supportive girlfriend when every flawless pass or run forward has you leaping out of your seat with unrestrained enthusiasm.

At half-time, Chelsea are up by 1 against Newcastle, and you and Alex are happily chatting and catching up over a beer.

“I saw all the pics of you guys at the gala on Twitter,” Alex says with a smirk on her face, lowering her voice so nobody overhears. “I know it’s weird to say since you’re basically part of the family, but you actually look quite good together.”

“Ew, Alex, there’s no way,” you insist, a slight blush creeping onto your cheeks. “He’s…Ben.”

Alex just laughs and drops the subject as the game resumes and the boys come back out of the tunnel.

Around the 85th minute, with the score now tied 1-1, Ben comes running up the side and makes an excellent pass to Conor, who scores and secures the win. You jump out of your seats to cheer as the guys celebrate on the pitch, you rolling your eyes with affection as Ben and Conor jump up and down with excitement.

The whistle blows shortly after with Chelsea leaving victorious, and you and Alex make your way down to the tunnels to meet up with Ben. With this being their fourth win in a row, the atmosphere at the Bridge is electric, a far cry from last year’s rough season.

It’s so nice to see Ben so happy again, and the smile on his face only seems to grow tenfold when he spots you and Alex making your way over to him.

You can’t resist picking up your pace to a light jog as you move toward him, and his arms are already open to pull you into a tight hug that lifts your feet off the ground and makes your heart soar in a similar fashion.

“That assist was brilliant,” you murmur into his shoulder before he sets you down.

Ben pulls away, still beaming at you, his sweaty hair curled down over his forehead.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he smiles, his eyes wandering to the shirt you’d almost forgotten you were wearing.

It’s not the first time you’ve worn his kit - his England debut and the Champions League final come to mind - but those were special occasions, with the rest of his friends and family wearing it too. This is obviously different, and although Ben sent it over for you to wear, his eyes are locked to you like he’s trying to memorize every thread of the fabric.

You can’t figure out why he seems so transfixed, but you don’t have much time to dwell on it before you’re interrupted.

Alex clears her throat, snapping Ben out of whatever trance he was in, and he pulls her in for a hug.

“So, to celebrate the win and Ben’s assist, I’m thinking he should take us out for a nice dinner?” Alex suggests, smiling and nudging your arm.

“Shouldn’t you be buying me dinner?” Ben raises an eyebrow. When you both just laugh, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Alright. I’ll go shower, you make a reservation somewhere.”

After you and Alex have picked out the fanciest-looking sushi place you could find online and collected Ben from the changing rooms, you make your way to his car. Just like after every game, the paparazzi are out trying to get videos and photos of the players leaving the stadium.

This time, however, most of the attention seems to be directed at you.

The lights begin to flash the moment you exit the building, and Ben reaches down to take your hand without a second of hesitation. Whether it’s to flaunt your “relationship” further or just to comfort you, you’re not sure, but it’s definitely working either way.

“Y/N, did you enjoy the match today?”

You know you don’t have to answer any of their questions, but you’d rather not be branded as cold or rude as the media loves to do when a woman ignores them.

So you squeeze Ben’s hand and nod, smiling at the man recording you.

“Of course, the team played really well.”

“And what did you think of Ben’s performance?” they fire back at you.

“He was amazing,” you say without missing a beat. “I always love watching him on the pitch.”

You can see Ben smiling at you as you speak - a genuine smile that you know has nothing to do with the cameras surrounding you - but he startles you slightly when he leans in to peck your cheek and lets his lips linger there for a moment. They’re soft and warm against your skin, and you feel significantly colder when they pull away.

You’ve clearly spurred on the media even more with this sudden display of affection, but Ben begins to pull you along with him and help you into the car before either of you has to answer any more questions.

You breathe out a sigh of relief as you settle into the passenger seat, Ben and Alex entering the car moments later.

“Nice show, you two,” Alex laughs, obviously still amused by the sight of you and Ben pretending to be a couple.

“You okay, Y/N?” Ben asks, looking over at you. “Sorry if the cheek kiss was too much. I know it’s a bit awkward.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you assure him, rolling your eyes. “It’s fine. Of course it’s gonna be awkward sometimes, but as long as it’s helping with the PR plan, right?”

Ben nods gratefully and smiles at you once more before asking Alex for directions to the sushi place.

You’re grateful for her chatting away about how hungry she is, and for the song Ben is playing loudly through the speakers as you drive to the restaurant, both of which are helping to distract you from how alarmingly not awkward this all feels.

A/N: let me know what your thoughts are after this chapter!! things start to heat up in the next one i promise ;)

tag list: @lunamelona @kathb59 @captainwans​ @amandaaa1025 @bbygrlllllll @cinderellawithashoe​ @batmansb1tch​ @ncentic​ (let me know if you would like to be added!)

[justanamesstuff]

All I Need

Chapter 4

Matty Healy!dad x f!reader A/N: first, please read the disclaimer I left at the end…secondly, thanks so much for the support again. Finally, this chapter is LONG… I really hope you read it fully and enjoy it! Have a nice day guys :) Don't be mad with Matty

Warnings: swearing, ANGST, typos.

Word count: 4K!

MASTERLIST

Thursday

Comfy clothes, messy hair from sleeping. Matty sat down on the kitchen island and watched the scene in front of his tired eyes.

Y/n was making breakfast for them. The kettle on, bread on the toaster and a pot with water cooking eggs. While making sure everything was going as expected, Amelia rested on Y/n right hip. Y/n was wearing the -Matty’s- blue hoodie on top of her pyjamas, and her child was still on hers. Amelia already had her breakfast, and insisted on being held by mommy.

Y/n swing around on her place, keeping an eye on the food and another on Mel. The little Healy was staring up at her mother with all of her attention. Y/n started singing, exacerbating her tone, making Amelia laugh. Marty’s favourite sound in the entire world.

The frontman couldn’t stop himself from snapping that moment. He took a picture of mother and daughter, uploading it on Instagram. Making sure to place a heart hiding his baby’s face. One of the few things that people didn’t bother them with was keeping Amelia’s face unknown. A bit of her privacy was secured.

Matty left his phone and kept watching, admiring them. He couldn't have picked a better woman for being Amelia’s mother. It was difficult to explain without being somehow patriarchal about it. Y/n was an amazing mother.

The singing stopped suddenly, making Matty frown. Y/n turned around looking for him. Once their eyes met, she asked, “Can you hold her, please?”

Matty moved around the kitchen until he reached for Amelia. “Everything alright?” He asked.

Y/n took a few steps away, grabbing her phone from her trousers pocket. She heard him, but the realization that he was talking to her came after. “Um, yeah, yeah,” She answered, avoiding his eyes. “I’ll finish breakfast.” She muttered quickly.

Her phone left close to the cups waiting to be filled. Matty moved aside, letting her come closer to the stove. He didn’t mean to intrude or anything, when the phone lighted up with a message. ‘I’m really excited for tomorrow. I can’t wait’. Paul. Matty felt a pang on his heart and belly.

His bubble breaking into pieces. “Don’t rush it.” He said after a long silence. It meant to sound nice, because she didn’t have to make him breakfast, although it ended up coming out strangled and low, full of unspoken feelings.

Matty was out of the kitchen before Y/n could ask. She heard the TV playing in the background and Amelia crushing some toys together. She reached for her phone again, reading the message to then return her sight to the living room. Y/n shook her head, answering Paul’s message.

Her fingers scroll around the screen, trumanblack has tagged you on a story.

It was the picture of Amelia and her, neither of their faces visible, one because of the heart and hers because of the angel. Still, it transmitted a sense of happiness and contentment. The text was what caught her: Nothing better than home with my girls.

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

Friday

Matty spent the rest of Thursday lurking around the home studio. He didn’t leave the house, but he tried to avoid Y/n as much as he could. The few moments they bumped into each other around the house, he couldn’t stop himself from reacting inside about her keeping the phone out of her pockets. He watched her focus on what was placed out on the screen, Matty even saw her smile at the thing.

Of course, Matty’s mind convinced him, she was talking to Paul and no one else.

He barely slept, twisting inside his sheets, his mind full of thoughts. About Y/n, Amelia, the damn date, work, everything and all at once.

In the morning, he was out after kissing and hugging Amelia. No breakfast and almost no interaction with Y/n. She was starting to feel nervous for the date, so she didn’t acknowledge it. She attached to it some urgency at his job or an interview he forgot to mention.

Y/n tried to spend the day like it was another day. Doing her emails, answering calls and taking care of Amelia.

Playing with her was a nice distraction, almost like a meditation. Amelia took her out of her messy feelings about Matty, her nervousness about the evening with Paul, and other stuff. Amelia was her centre, her peace in the middle of the storm. Since Y/n found out Amelia was coming, her entire life turned around her little self. She was the love of her life and the reason she does everything for.

While her kid played around, she thought about herself as more than being a mother. How she loved Amelia with all of her heart, but also how she left aside her own desires and dreams. She wasn’t setting a good example. It wasn’t like a date would change her whole life, but it was a starting point of taking care of herself alongside taking care of her daughter. Amelia wouldn't be truly happy living in a fake reality where her mother wasn’t truly content, browning resentment or unfulfilled necessities. A date with a cute guy was a start.

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

The sound of her phone startled her, Grace’s contact flashing on the screen. Y/n grabbed the device and pressed the green button. “Hey.” Y/n greet her friend, while looking down towards the bed.

“I’m outside,” Grace informed her.

“Do you have your spare key?”

“Sure.”

“Use it, please. I’m upstairs…Mel is sleeping, so plea-”

“Yeah, yeah- I’ll be quiet!” Y/n could picture her rolling her eyes. The line was cut short.

Y/n lowered down the phone, not really caring about it. Her full attention was on the dress. She didn’t remember the last time she wore something like that. When was the last time she dressed up for anything? Her insides were twisting like crazy.

“Oh, nice choice!” Grace exclaimed rather loudly. Gaining a stern look from Y/n. “Right, sorry…nice choice.” she whispered.

Y/n bit her nails. “You think so?”

“Yes! Paul is going to love it.” Grace stated. Paul, no Matty. Y/n hated herself for thinking about that, for comparing them. It wasn’t fair for anyone.

“I hope so...”

“Hey-” Grace rounded her, looking down at the piece of cloth like if they were watching a painting. “You’re going to have fun. It is not because Paul is my cousin, but he’s great… I mean, you meet him before, he’s not a total stranger.” The memory of Grace’s birthday when they met came back; the time when she and Matty started hooking up came quickly to the front of her head.

“Yeah, he seems nice…he’s truly handsome.”

“Doesn’t look like a rat.” Grace tried to lighten the mood. Y/n rolled her eyes this time. “Talking about the devil, is he here?”

“No, he left this morning.” Y/n tried to distract herself while folding clothes around the room. “He’s again barely talking. I suppose something about work is worrying-”

“No, no, no…” Grace shook her head. “This-” she placed both hands on top of her friend's shoulders. “Today is your day to think about you…nothing about him. Better if he’s out!”

“Yes.” Y/n took a deep breath.

“Okay, you go and prepare.” she waved her eyebrows. “I’m going for the little monkey.”

“Idiot.” Y/n mattered when Grace was out of the room.

—------------------------------

Matty grabbed his keys to unlock the front door, thinking about how much he wanted that day to end. Nothing at all was apparently working, and her stress levels even worried George. His bandmate and friend tried to make him talk, but it was impossible. Matty bubbled everything inside his mind this time.

His guitar case fell with a loud pang. “Fuck!” he shouted. The door suddenly opened. Y/n was on the other side. Matty looked at her. His breath stuck in his throat and every thought out of his brain. Her hair wavy and loose, falling some on top of her shoulders and behind her back. The makeup was minimal but accentuated every one of her features perfectly. Her long neck was exposed and calling for him. Hanging from it, a simple necklace ending in the valley between her breasts.

When his attention fell into the dress, he wanted to fall into his knees and beg. He cleansed his throat, trying to regain some type of reasoning inside his mushed brain. “You look-” he kept looking at the design of the cloth. It hugged her form like a globe, perfectly. His sight stopped at her feet, a nice pair of shoes adoring them. It wasn’t an outfit for winter, it was an outfit for killing. “You look-” he started again. Not even knowing how much time he spent standing at the entrance of their house looking like a massive idiot. “You look amazing, Y/n.” He finally said, exhausted.

“Thanks, Matty. Are you okay?” She asked, concerned tinted her voice. He wasn’t going to spoil her night, he couldn’t be that selfish, no matter how much he wanted to. Also, he wanted to keep his promise to look after Amelia that night.

“Yeah, yeah. Just tired, love.” He said, not really minding his words. She nodded silently. He left the guitar case beside the door, closing it. Y/n turned around, returning to the kitchen in search of Amelia, not hearing Matty exclaiming a low curse. That day was brought to him by the devil himself.

Matty shook his head and walked to the group of girls.

“Greetings, ladies!” He joked. Amelia ran to him, asking to pick her. He obliged. “Hi mel-mel, missed you!”

“Daddy!”

“Yes, daddy is here. We’re going to have a fun night, huh?” he asked her, running a hand through her messy curls. Amelia was too focused on playing with his t-shirt to answer. Not that she grasped around what he was asking.

“Are you trying to co-parent with me, Healy?” Grace asked from the other side of the kitchen. Y/n drank some water, trying to erase her nerves.

“Hello, you-” Matty scrunched his eyes. “What the f- are you talking about?”

“I’m taking care of monkey, monkey, Mel!” She said, looking at Amelia. The girl laughed, hiding her face on his neck.

“Since when? Y/n asked me.” He directed his eyes to the mentioned woman. She looked so out of place in the middle of the kitchen area with that dress. He knew a few places where she could look right in place. ‘He wasn’t the one in charge of taking it out of her body tonight’, his mind reminded him.

“I- Um- You left so quickly this morning. I tried to leave you messages but-”

“I was in the middle of an emergency, with the label. My phone died in the middle of the day.”

“I get it, it’s fine!” Y/n said. He looked tired and in need of a shower. She pitied him. “So, I wasn’t sure if you were com-”

He was starting to get annoyed. Matty never broke a promise. “I promised, didn’t I?”

“Yes, I’m not implying- ” Y/n started.

Grace took the wrestling baby from Matty’s arms. He didn't notice. “Let’s go, Mel. Mommy and Daddy have to talk.” She took her far from the discussion, distracting Amelia.

“Then explain to me why you called Grace?” He approached her, folding his arms.

“Can we not do this right now?” Y/n begged.

Matty threw his arms into the air. “It’s just a conversation, Y/n.”

“I have a date, I don’t want to fight.”

“Yeah, right, the date…” Matty rolled his eyes.

“Sorry?”

“Nothing. Let’s get back to our business here. I-” he pointed to himself. “I’m going to take care of Amelia, so you...” Matty pointed at her this time. “...can go and do your fancy date.”

Y/n was stunned by his words, his tone. “Fancy date?”

“Date, whatever.” Matty brushed her off.

“No, you-”

“Grace can stay if she wants, but I’ve already promised to fulfil my duties as a parent, so please for next time try to remember that.” He spat.

“So, I’m not fulfilling my duties as a parent? That’s what you're implying?”

Matty reviewed his words, already regretting them. “I never-”

PING!

Y/n lifter her phone, saying “You know what, Matt? I don’t want to hear anything else from you. Bye.”

“Y/n!” Matty started to follow her. Although, he stopped a few steps forward. He messed it up awfully.

When she was out of sight, Matty swore repeatedly. In the background, Amelia and Grace said their goodbyes and good luck. The sound of the front door closing was like a slap across Matty’s face.

—------------------------------------------------

Matty rubbed his eyes too hard for Grace’s liking. He went to tug Amelia into bed and came back a while after. It was really early in the night for him to be that tired, from her perspective.

“You look like shit, man.” she said. Matty stopped, looking at her from the other end of the big kitchen table. His brain had been working at snail's pace.

“Thank you, Grace. Always so polite.”

Grace laughed out loud. Matty walked, passing by her side and beyond. He opened the slide back door. He patted his pockets for his cigarettes and lighter. Grace turned around, watching in silence his actions. “You're staring.” Matty’s voice bluffed, talking with the stick between his lips, trying to burn the tip.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not a member of that part of the population-” Grace rumbled.

Matty let the smoke out, losing it into the night air.

“Who is then?” he smirked.

Grace looked at him, annoyed. “I haven’t finished…”

“Please, go on.”

“I was saying, I’m not part of the population worshiping a rat”

Matty snorted, loud. He took another drag. “That’s a shame, Grace!” his foot hit a tiny rock on the back patio.

“It’s freezing out there” Grace shielded herself, trying to escape the cold coming from outside. “Y/n must be freezing her tits off” she let out without thinking. Bringing to Matty’s mind what he was trying to shut up inside his head. Another drag, a long one this time, served as comfort.

“Mhm.” he barely made a noticeable sound.

Grace studied his demeanor. As she said, he looked like shit. Tired, stressed, and something she couldn’t put together. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You two are so similar sometimes.” Grace expressed.

Matty didn’t understand what she meant. “Amelia and me?”

“Y/n…and you.” she admitted. Matty nodded absently. He didn’t agree with Y/n’s friend, but he was well aware she was Y/n’s friend, and he wasn’t going to voice out his worries. Ending with Grace snitching him was a big no.

“Why do you say that?” He inquired instead.

“You two just bottle up stuff…” Grace started. “I don’t know you that well, if I'm honest.” She admitted. Matty agreed, when Grace was in the house he tried not to stay around the pair, only because he wanted them to have space. With Y/n not leaving the house that often, Grace was a constant visit, bringing some fresh air. Matty wouldn’t think of ruining it for her. He’d never admitted it, though.

“She definitely does that.” Matty spat while breathing more smoke.

Grace calmly continued the conversation. “You too.”

“Prove it!” he dared her.

“I can’t, but I feel like you do that…”

“Why?”

“You’ve been sulking around the entire night since she left, before you fought…”

“We didn’t-” he said, looking down at the stamped cigarette.

“Oh, you fought, rock star!”

“Fine, we fought. I’m not sulking, though, I’m tired…haven’t slept and worked all day.”

“Poor thing...”

“Fuck you!”

“No, thank you!” Matty laughed. Grace was funny. “You’re being unfair with her.” Matty urged her to continue while he closed the back door. “She hadn't had a date in so long…”

Matt sat down. “I know.”

“She has been here, with Mel, all the time. I know, she knows, you have work to do. I’m not trying to intrude into your guys' businesses. Not only that, but I just want you to see how much she has put aside her things for being a mother and a good co-parent.”

“Yes, Grace. I know from first hand.”

“On the other side, apart from working and co-parenting and all the circus…you’ve continued your romantic life, if you want to call it that-”

“You know first hand, Grace?” Matty smirked at her, trying to redirect the conversation elsewhere.

“Ew, no…but I’m online. Y/n is online, Matt” She warned him.

That perked Matty’s attention. “Has she ever told you something about that?” He tried to sound innocent.

“I’m not going to snitch my best friend!”

“You definitely talked about it.”

“Anyway…” Matty chuckled. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but her reactions were funny. “You’ve been with other girls-”

Matty looked at her directly in the eyes, he needed Grace to know the truth. “I haven-”

“I’m not believing that from Matty Healy…the Matty Healy!”

“Suit yourself, Grace. I’m being honest with you. I haven’t. You shouldn’t let tabloids and twitter convince you to believe this and that…I can’t imagine you reading about politics-”

“They didn’t. I have eyes and there are plenty of pictures-”

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t care. What Y/n told you?”

“Not gonna say.”

“Fucking hell, Grace.”

“I’m just asking you, as her friend and as the godmother of your baby, please let her have this!”

“You really think prince charming is suitable for her?” Matty paid attention to every single feature on Grace’s face. Waiting for something that would give him hope.

“Yes...” She hesitated.

Matty felt his blood rushing and his heart pounding. “You don’t sound convinced.”

“Paul is my cousin!” she miserably tried to excuse herself.

“Yeah, well, he can be the fucking King…and not be suitable for Y/n.”

“Don’t be a dick, please. You two have a deal…you can date whoever you want-”

“I think about it every single day, Grace. You don’t have to remind me, okay?”

She was starting to get annoyed. He was being irrational. “So, why are you being like this?”

“Like what?” Matty inquired. He needed her to say it, Matty knew Grace was aware of the actual truth.

“Like THIS?” Grace messily moved her hands.

She wasn’t going to let him win it, but he felt a little bloom of hope inside. “I’m not going to keep talking about this with you, Grace. Don’t take it personally.”

“Fine, just let her…” Grace outworn asked.

“I want her to be happy, Grace. I can assure you about that.” Because he wanted that with all his heart.

“Then…let her be, Matty.” She stood up, going to the downstairs bathroom.

He threw his head down, hiding it between his arms. Breathing out, a stressed sight.

—------------------------------------------

Paul was waiting outside his car. Fidgeting with a discrete bouquet of yellow flowers. His suit was fancy -black with vertical white stripes in equal parts on jacket and pants-, underneath a white shirt and shiny shoes. His right ear was pierced with a gold hoop hanging. Blue eyes shining under the street light, and his face adorned with a stubble. He looked dreamy.

Y/n walked shyly towards him. She added a nice coat on top of her dress because the air was chilly, and she didn’t want to catch something, it wasn’t doing its job though. Paul looked up when he heard the tickling of her shoes on the pavement.

He greeted her with a big and toothy smile. “Wow, you look amazing!” he lifted himself and approached Y/n.

“Thank you. You look really handsome.”

“I don’t think I can compete,” he said, making her blush. “Here.” he extended the bouquet. “Thought you would like them...”

“You didn’t have to, Paul. I haven’t bought anything for you…” She tried to joke. He reacted by chuckling to her antics. It felt good, Y/n felt her stomach burning a little, in a good way.

“Shall we go?” he offered.

“Yes!”

They hopped into the car, leaving behind her house. Y/n felt the anxiety creeping but tried to wash it away. Paul kept looking at her, while making conversation. “Do you want me to turn up the heat?” he asked politely.

“It’s okay, I’m warm now.”

“I’ll probably sound like an idiot…you look wonderful. I can’t believe you asked me out, Y/n.” his neck turned red as long as his cheeks. He was cute and awkward, Y/n liked it.

“Why can't you?”

“I don’t want to sound pathetic, so I won’t say.” Y/n laughed, genuinely laughed.

The trip to the restaurant was short. Paul guided her around the place, walking between tables once her coat was taken away.

Y/n found herself in the middle of the evening enjoying it. Paul was nice and attentive. He has charm, but didn’t use it upon her as a weapon of seduction. It was refreshing to have his attention.

She asked about his work and he asked back, they even talked about Amelia. Y/n tried not to mention Matty or the co-parenting topic too much, she knew Paul was aware of it, so she didn’t feel like it was necessary.

Once more, again at her front door, Paul insisted on walking her all the way to the door. He wanted to make sure she entered safely home. Y/n started to feel nervous again.

Is he going to kiss me? Is he expecting me to do it? We have to kiss? Her brain was full of questions.

“I had a great night, Y/n.” He turned, once at the actual door, facing her.

“Me too, Paul. Thank you”

“Nothing to thank.” He said, looking directly into her soul, or she felt like it. His eyes were so pretty.

He moved one strand of hair to the side, exposing her rosy cheek fully. Y/n hold her breath, waiting for his next action. He looked down to her lips, slowly approached their faces. When they were inches closer, he looked directly at her eyes. Y/n brook eye contact, closing them. Then she felt the light touch of his lip on the apple of her cheek. She sighed loud. Paul let the tip of his nose move across the same spot he kissed. He breathed out, close to her right ear. “Good night, Y/n.”

And he was gone.

Y/n blinked. She watched him walk away, her brain not functioning. Y/n tried to recompose and reach for her key ring.

—--------------

Y/n took her coat and shoes off. The warmth of the house welcoming her. Everything was in silence except from the low rumbling of the living room TV. She put her slippers on and walked there.

Matty was splattered on the couch, similar to how he lay down beside her the day they cuddled. As if he was leaving space for someone. His curls all over the place, his mouth hanging open and his breathing even. He looked like an angel, maybe because he resembled Amelia in a way.

Y/n approached the couch, “Matty-” She tried. Sometimes he was a deep sleeper, not today.

“Huh?” He blinked his eyes open. “When you came in?” His voice was deep and low due to sleep.

“Just did.”

“Did you have a good time?” He asked, truly interested.

“Yes.” She didn’t forget their last interaction.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I didn’t-”

“Doesn’t matter now, Matty. Go to bed. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Y/n slipped away, walking -almost running-towards the stairs.

“No, y/n-” He tried to stand up quickly, following her.

Before Matty could reach her, Y/n’s room door closed on his face. Matty knocked, but he knew it was in vain. His shoulders came down in defeat. Matty walked the walk of shame to his room. Y/n waited, behind her door, for the closing sound to let her breath go. She moved away, undressing and thinking about her rollercoaster of a day.

PING!

Paul: You forgot the flowers in the car. I think we have to see each other again now 😉 Sleep tight!!

BIG DISCLAIMER I feel the need to talk about the dress. I saw the picture and thought it was beautiful and fits the part here… I know the girl in the picture is skinny skinny and I don't want to impose a body to Y/n. If you noticed, I really try not to describe her body. Just feel free to picture her as your imagination dictates! :) THANKS FOR READING!

[eyluvu]

(ok just wanna preface this by saying that this idea is about a sick Loki but there are no mentions of throwing up, but if it's still uncomfortable for you that's no worries!!)AAA DUDE

Okay right imagine like a sick baby Loki.

All he wants to do is sleep and snuggle up with his papa, staying in his warm and fluffy pyjamas. Thankfully, Mobius is more than happy to initiate that and stays by his side unless it's for necessities.

He has a paci clip attached to his shirt to make sure it doesn't go away as he's feeling rather weak and vulnerable. On top of that, diapers are a must-have.

The little one isn't in the mood to have much :( He can only really stomach bottles (milk, juice, etc.) and some soups. However, Mobius makes mealtimes as good as possible for the little guy ^^ When he starts to recover, he has enough strength to stay in his high chair again and be spoonfed.

When he's ready to start going downstairs for longer, Mobius sets up a little bed, from a blanket or two and a pillow, on the sofa. Loki is a lot more comfy this way and can get back to watching his favourite shows!

Affection isn't easy when sick, so Loki tends to cling on to Mobius with what strength he has to show his love. Parting him can be really hard, which Thor knows well about from the time he wanted to see Loki's face, even for just a second, and he just wouldn't budge. Mobius accepts these feeble hug attempts with joy and an understanding of the fact that Loki can't really do much. He opts for little head kisses.

When the time comes for a bath, though, more love can be shared. Loki doesn't feel so groggy in the bubble baths Mobius prepares, and so it's easier to show his love. He likes to blow kisses and giggle when Mobius lightly teases his stomach.

When he's just a little baby to around 2 or 3 years, Mobius brings his crib (or rather Thor does and Mobius helps out lol ^^) into his room so he can keep an eye on Loki to see how he's doing. He makes his crib as comfy as possible, blankets, soft stuffies, a mobile, everything! When he's older, Loki sleeps in Mobius's bed, but sometimes when he's young he does that too. The crib is just there if he struggles sleeping in bed ^^

All in all, sick days aren't too easy for Loki, especially being more emotional at these times, but Mobius makes them so much better.

Im literally the biggest sickfic fan ever so I wouldn't be bothered by talking about throwing up, its sort of a coping mechanism when its about fictional characters haha.

AND I LOVEEEEE THIS. Its such a treat to get little surprises from you in my inbox, thank you kurt oh my god :((((