#and just want a good fic to comfort me as I miserably curl up in in bed

[glompcat]

Special kind of annoying when you stay up late reading a fic, until suddenly it starts to introduce an OC out of nowhere and like a lightbulb going off you suddenly realize you have read this exact fic before, you def. recognize this OC, and the author is eventually going to have the main character from canon stop being friends with any and all canon characters the author does not like (including your actual favorite character, because you the reader like more than just one of the characters in the original work enough to get into a fic where your favorite isn't the main) after an excessive number of scenes written with shall we say... uncharitable characterization, and then they will have the main character hang mostly with this OC instead from then on (who is not a bad OC per say they just well... replaced the actual canon cast in a manner that frankly felt like bashing and became a very large focus of the story out of nowhere in the process), which is precisely why you stopped reading this fic and put it out of your mind so utterly the first time around. Like, does one keep reading to confirm this is indeed what is going to happen here, or just nope on out now and spare oneself the frustration of what's to come despite having enjoyed the story so far?

[httpsdana]

hi! i really like your fics and i had a really bad day today so could you do the sappiest fluff about gavi or pedri.

basically i got my period today and i was having the worst cramps of my life so something along the lines of that maybe?

take care and thank you x

Sweet Relief~Pedri Gonzalez

*Pictures are from Pinterest*

I had to write this immediately cuz it's so cute. enjoy <3

request from here

master list -> part 2

players/drivers I write for

The first rays of morning light peek through the curtains as Pedri stirs awake, glancing over to see his girlfriend curled up beside him, still fast asleep. He checks his phone and sees the date, realizing it’s around the time of the month when she usually get her period.

He remembers the last few times — how much pain she'd been in, how tired and miserable it made her feel. Determined to make today as easy as possible, he quietly slips out of bed, making sure not to wake her up, and heads out to the nearest store.

Once he arrives, he walks through the aisles, carefully picking out everything he knows she'll need: pads, pain relief medicine, her favorite chocolate, chips, and that comforting herbal tea she loved.

He even picks up a couple of fluffy blankets and an extra heating pad, just in case. With his arms full of supplies, he heads back home, feeling a surge of excitement at the thought of surprising her and making her feel better.

When he returns, she's still curled up under the blankets, her brows slightly furrowed as if she's in discomfort even while asleep. Pedri sets everything down quietly, arranging it all neatly on the bedside table, and then gently climbs back into bed beside her.

He brushes a few stray hairs from her face, his fingertips as light as a feather. He watches as she starts to wake up, and he’s there, right by her side when her eyes flutter open. The first thing she felt was that familiar ache, and she instantly knew — her period has arrived. She let out a groan, wrapping herself tighter in the blankets, which makes Pedri’s face soften with understanding.

“Good morning, princesa,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

y/n blinks at him, managing a small smile despite the cramps. “Morning… didn’t know you were up already.”

Pedri grins, scooting closer and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I had a feeling you’d be needing a little extra help today,” he says, glancing meaningfully at the stash he’s gathered on the bedside table. “So, I got you all set up.”

Her eyes follow his gaze, and she's met with the sight of her favorite snacks, pain meds, a heating pad, and a neat stack of pads. She let out a breathless laugh, her heart swelling at his thoughtfulness. “Pedri, you did all this… just for me?”

“Of course, princesa,” he murmurs, his voice soft as he cups her cheek. “I know how bad it gets, and I want you to be as comfortable as possible. I’m here to take care of you, remember?”

She reached up to hold his hand on her cheek, leaning into his touch. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

“Never,” he whispers, pressing another kiss to her forehead. “You deserve it.”

He sits up, grabbing the heating pad and carefully placing it over her stomach. She sighes in relief as the warmth begins to seep through, easing some of the ache. Pedri grins, pleased, then settles back beside her, slipping an arm around her so she can rest against his shoulder.

“Is there anything else you need, mi amor?” he asks softly, rubbing gentle circles on her back.

“Just you,” she murmured, snuggling into his side. “And maybe… a little bit of chocolate?”

He chuckles, reaching over to grab the chocolate he brought. Unwrapping it, he holds a piece to her lips, smiling as she took a bite. “Anything else, hermosa?”

y/n smiles, feeling herseld relax under his touch and attention. “No, this is perfect. thank you, baby.”

He leans down to press a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Always, princesa. I’m here to spoil you.”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

At one point, y/n shifted uncomfortably, wincing as another wave of cramps hits. Pedri notices immediately, his hand finding hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. “More painkillers?” he asks softly.

She nodded, and he’s up in a heartbeat, bringing her water and the medicine. He watches her take it, then slides back onto the bed, pulling her into his lap and wrapping his arms around her. “Here, lay against me. I’ll hold you until it goes away.”

She lets herself settle into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his chest against her back. His arms wrapped around her protectively, his fingers gently tracing patterns on her arm. “You’re my angel, you know that?” she murmured, glancing up at him.

He blushed but smiled down at her, pressing his lips to her temple. “Only for you, mi vida.”

A little later, when he catches her staring at the pile of snacks with a tiny smile, he tilts his head, grinning. “What’s that look for?”

She shrugged, biting her lip. “I just… I’m so lucky to have you. No one’s ever done something like this for me before.”

Pedri’s grin softens, and he tilts her chin up so she's looking directly at him. “Well, get used to it, hermosa. Taking care of you is my favorite thing.” He leans down, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss, his hand gently stroking her cheek. “And if there’s anything else you need, you just tell me. I’m all yours today.”

She let out a sigh, sinking into his arms as he presses a series of gentle kisses along her forehead, cheeks, and nose, each one lighter than the last. “Pedri, you’re spoiling me,” she whispered, even though she's loving every second of it.

He chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around her tighter. “That’s the point, amor. Besides, you deserve to be spoiled.”

The rest of the day continues with Pedri attending to every little thing. He helps her get cozy with extra blankets, adjusting the heating pad whenever she needed it, and even turning on her favorite movie for jer to relax. He laughs with her, making jokes, and he listens to her every whim, whether she needed more snacks, another glass of water, or just a long cuddle to take her mind off the cramps.

“Hey,” he murmurs at one point, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “How’s my princesa doing?”

She snuggled closer, letting out a soft hum. “A lot better with you here.” she smiled up at him, and he grinned ,pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Good, because I’m not going anywhere,” he says, then shifts so she's cradled against his chest, his arms wrapped snugly around her frame. He peppers her face with little kisses, making her giggle. “I’m on official period duty today. Whatever you need — I’m at your service.”

“You’re amazing,” she murmured, nuzzling into his neck. “Thank you for everything.”

“Anything for my girl,” he whispers back, rubbing her back softly. “You know I’d do anything to make you feel better.” His fingers trail up and down her spine, soothing her, as he held her close.

Later, when she started feeling sleepy, he wrapped her up in his arms, pulling the blanket around them both. “Close your eyes, princesa. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

She doze off with him holding her, and when she woke up, he’s still there, smiling down at her with that same warm look in his eyes. “Did you sleep okay, mi vida?” he asks, stroking her hair gently.

She nodded, feeling so safe and cared for. “I love you, Pedri.”

He beams, his face lighting up as he leans down to kiss her. “I love you too, hermosa. So, so much.”

[auggieblogs]

"Totally worth it" | CL16

Charles Leclerc x reader Author's note: Hey, hiiii, loves. I hope you all are doing good!!! This fic is inspired by that one episode of "How I Met Your Mother"... you'll figure out which one. Happy reading, everyone<3

―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist

The sound of footsteps echoed through the house, signalling Charles' return from the grocery store. You were curled up on the couch, feeling absolutely miserable with a cold and a slight fever. Your tissues were piled up beside you, and you had a blanket draped over your shivering form. The room felt cold despite the heater being on, and you couldn't help but sigh in discomfort.

Charles burst into the living room, carrying bags of your favourite snacks and a brown paper bag from the drug store. "I'm back, amor," he announced with a warm smile, placing the bags on the coffee table.

You smiled weakly in response, appreciating his effort to make you feel better. "Thank you, baby", you mumbled, your voice hoarse.

Charles came over, his brows furrowed with concern and felt your forehead. "You're still warm," he said softly. He then fetched a thermometer from the medicine cabinet and sat down beside you. "Open up for me, y/n." He gently placed the thermometer under your tongue and waited patiently. After a moment, he checked it and smiled, "Your fever has gone down a little bit."

You sighed in relief as he kissed your forehead, his lips warm and comforting. Charles turned on Gilmore Girls, and fluffed the pillows behind your head. He snuggled up beside you, gently kissing your knuckles.

As the day turned into evening, Charles decided it was time to make you some dinner. He headed to the kitchen, despite his terrible cooking skills, he was determined to make you some homemade chicken noodle soup. He had learned the recipe from his mother and hoped that he could manage it for your sake. You could hear him pottering about and occasionally muttering to himself.

Charles prepared the soup with love and care, making sure the broth was just right, the noodles were cooked to perfection, and the vegetables were tender. He even added a little extra seasoning, just the way you liked it.

He eventually returned with a steaming bowl of soup, a proud smile on his face. "Here you go, my love," he said, sitting beside you.

Now, I know I'm not the best cook," he admitted, "but this is the one dish my mum taught me to make. I hope it's not too terrible."

You couldn't help but laugh, a sound that turned into a coughing fit. Charles quickly handed you a glass of water before blowing on the soup to cool it down. He took a spoonful and carefully brought it to your lips. "Here, amor, let's see if it's edible."

You took a tentative sip, surprised by the taste. It was actually quite good. You nodded and smiled as Charles fed you spoonfuls, his eyes never leaving your face.

Once you had eaten, he gently wiped your mouth with a napkin and placed the empty bowl on the nightstand. Then, he tucked you back in bed, ensuring you were snug and comfortable.

He leaned in to kiss you goodnight, but you stopped him, concern in your eyes. "You don't want to kiss me, you'll get sick, Charlie."

He didn't say anything but held your face in his hands and kissed you sweetly. He'd risk a cold to take care of you.

Charles climbed into bed with you, a book in hand, and began to read aloud. His voice was soothing, and you slowly drifted off to sleep.

A few days later, it was his turn to succumb to the cold. You found him wrapped in a cocoon of blankets on the couch, looking miserable and adorable all at once. You prepared a warm bowl of soup and fed it to him, blowing on it just as he had done for you.

As you sat by his side, feeding him spoonfuls of soup, Charles couldn't help but smile through his stuffed nose.

"Totally worth it," he mumbled between bites, making you giggle.

[leighsartworks216]

Oh, Hold Me Now

Zayne x AFAB!Reader

Guess whose period just started haha The things I would do to be in Zayne's arms rn istg

Title from "Hold Me Now" by the Thompson Twins

Warnings: menstruation, period fic, lots of domestic fluff, reader has a uterus but no other gender-defining things

Word Count: 1,726

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

With a whimper, you curl in on yourself. The pain in your abdomen rapidly ramps up. You clutch at your belly, willing it to stop, please god stop. It doesn’t listen until tears prick at the corner of your eyes. Then it slowly ebbs away, letting you breathe again.

You reach behind you, but all you find is a cold bed. You whine, annoyed with your emotions and just how upset you are that Zayne isn’t there. Even on his day off, he doesn’t sleep in.

You slowly slide out of bed. Your feet touch your warm slippers, a gift from your husband when you were dating and had just moved in together. They hug your feet in a familiar embrace, cushioning your weight as you force yourself to stand. You shuffle off to the bathroom.

It’s miserable and uncomfortable and you’re cursing your existence by the time you finish on the toilet. On top of that, you’re almost out of product, and what you have definitely isn’t going to last the day. You groan to yourself thinking about Zayne, on his nice day off, having to take care of you. He wouldn’t complain, but it gives you half a mind to change into real pants and go to the store yourself, just so he doesn’t have to deal with this. The other half is just oh so comfortable in your pajamas. You have enough stuff to last a couple hours, you’ll just go then.

After you scrub your hands within an inch of their life, you open the medicine cabinet and pull out some good ol’ painkillers. As desperate as you are to get rid of this pain, you’re not desperate enough to wash the pills down with water from the tap. Not yet, anyway.

Wanting nothing more than to be at the peak of coziness right now while your insides tear themselves apart, you throw on one of Zayne’s sweaters and leave the bedroom to face the cruel day ahead.

You see Zayne’s head peeking out over the top of the couch as he reads a medical book, as big as his head and as thick as your arm. You would chastise him for working, but he’d say he’s reading for his leisure. The threat of an oncoming cramp forces you to ignore him and turn to the kitchen.

“I already got you a glass of water,” he calls. He turns to look at you over the couch, expression softening with sympathy as you double over, hugging yourself as though you could compress all the pain into a tiny little ball. It grows in intensity for a moment, forcing a whimper from your throat, before finally receding. You take a deep breath and stand back up, continuing to hug yourself. “Come sit down, my love. I’ll make you some tea.”

How could you refuse? You shuffle over and settle down into the plush cushions. You almost whine when he gets up, but you bite it back. You do pout, though, which makes him smile despite your pain.

He rounds the couch and plants a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll only be a minute. Take your medicine.”

The water is still nice and cold when you take a sip from it. So cold you can feel it running down your throat. The pills go down smoothly, and you’re more than grateful not to be choking on pain meds today of all days.

You close your eyes and lean back into the couch, abandoning your slippers on the floor in favor of tucking your feet underneath you. You can hear the kettle starting to bubble as he opens and closes cabinets, gathering what he needs to make you the perfect cup of liquid gold to ease your suffering. The thought brings a mix of guilt and affection; both upset that he is taking care of you on his day off, and glee that he’s, well, taking care of you on his day off. If this was the weekend, maybe you wouldn’t feel as guilty. As it is, he has work again tomorrow, and he had work yesterday, so it’s not so much a day off as it is taking a house call.

He returns with a matching pair of mugs, steam rising from the tops and the warm smell of tea and bitter coffee filling the air. He sets his drink of choice down on the coffee table, but you greedily cradle yours to your chest, letting the heat warm your face and the scent relax your body. He sits back down beside you, drawing you closer to him while being extra careful not to spill your tea. He doesn’t say anything about you wearing his sweater, but he does playfully tug on the hem, signaling that he’s noticed.

You smile for the first time today and tilt your head up to kiss him good morning. “Thank you,” you hum, kissing him again for good measure, before adding, “and I’m sorry.”

He shoots you a disapproving look, softened from his lack of glasses and the morning light coming in from the windows. “Don’t apologize. It’s completely out of your control.” He slips his hand under the sweater to massage gently right where you need it. You relax into it immediately, practically melting against him as he takes care of you. His massages are always the best, and they drastically lessen the cramps that torment you this morning. “Do you need anything else, my love?”

You make a disgruntled noise at the reminder. “I need more product.” You quickly cover his hand with one of yours, heated from holding your mug, to make sure he doesn’t pull away. “It can wait a bit longer, though.”

He chuckles softly, but he makes no attempts to move. His fingers press gently into you, seeking out where you need it the most. You hiss as another cramp assaults you. You instinctively draw your knees up, leaning more of your weight into him as you curl up. He slips beneath the final layers of clothes to lay his warm palm fully over your lower abdomen. The heat sinks in slowly, but it does help.

���Can we watch a movie?” you ask as the pain comes back down, voice slightly rough. “Unless you wanna keep working.”

“Reading a book isn’t working,” he retorts, fully catching onto your jab. You point it out nearly every time you go to the library and he checks out something from the medical section.

“It is when it’s almost a thousand pages of nothing but medications and surgical procedures.”

He leans forward to reach the remote and passes it on to you. While you turn the TV on, he also grabs his mug, before relaxing back into the couch. “What do you want to watch?” he asks instead of continuing to pointlessly defend himself.

You hum noncommittally as you scroll through the library of films and shows, ready to watch at the press of a button. There were a few medical dramas you liked watching with Zayne, if only to listen to him correct the show or insult how unprofessional the main cast is, but they don’t really strike your fancy right now. Something funny would be nice. Or something comforting.

It’s only a matter of time before you put on a familiar movie you’ve seen about a thousand times. Zayne makes no comment on this. Instead, he blows gently on the surface of his coffee and takes a tentative sip. His coffee contains enough sugar to mostly negate the bitter flavor of the drink, but it’s just perfect for him. You drop the remote to the side and take a sip of your drink as well, humming at the perfect flavors that ease down your throat. The morning sun warms you both.

-

“Get up for a moment.”

You hum sleepily, looking at him with tired confusion. “The movie isn’t over,” you mumble.

He gives you a reassuring smile as he rubs your back. “I know, my love. I’m not leaving yet.”

With a gentle nudge, you pull your feet from under you and stand on wobbly legs. You watch as he lays out along the couch, legs parted, and gestures for you to lay back down. He can almost see the spark of excitement in your eye as you situate yourself on top of him, your legs between his and your head tucked safely under his chin. He pulls the blanket from the back of the couch overtop of you, before wrapping you in his arms. One hand massages the tension from your lower back while the other pets your hair. It’s heaven, being in his arms like this. You melt fully into him, forgetting the movie in favor of hiding from the sun outside, burying your face in his chest and shoulder, and breathing him in deep. He smells warm and sweet, with the shock of his aftershave. He smells like home.

You scoot upward to hide your face in his neck. He welcomes you readily, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m sorry I’m ruining your day off,” you mumble.

He tilts his head toward yours slightly, hiding you further from the sun. “How did you ruin it?” he asks softly. “I get to watch one of your favorite movies with you while we cuddle. How is that ruining my day?”

“Cuz you have to take care of me…”

“I always take care of you.”

You huff. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“I don’t think I do.” He rests his cheek against you. His lips brush your forehead as he speaks, like little kisses with each word. “Why do you think taking care of you would detract from my enjoyment of being around you?”

You remain quiet. The only reason he knows you haven’t fallen asleep yet is because of the hand you have on his chest that traces shapes over his shirt. He stops massaging your back to catch it, holding it firmer to himself.

“I can’t think of a better way to spend my day off.”

Your sigh fans across his skin, making the hairs on his arms raise. “I love you…”

He smiles. You feel it against your forehead as he kisses you again. “Get some rest. When you wake up, I’ll run to the store.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter

[shitsndgiggs]

Hey.... could you write a fic about kenan yildiz x reader where he's sick..like throwing up and the reader takes care of him.... and he feels kinda embarrassed for her to see him in that way.... can you make it fluff?

COMFORT AND CARE - KENAN YILDIZ

When Kenan falls ill, his girlfriend drops everything to take care of him

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

It was a quiet Saturday afternoon when I received a text from Kenan that made my heart sink. "Not feeling well, can you come over?" it read.

Without a second thought, I grabbed my keys and hurried to his apartment, worry gnawing at me.

When I arrived, I found Kenan in his bedroom, pale and sweaty, curled up under a pile of blankets. His normally vibrant eyes were dull, and he looked utterly miserable.

As soon as he saw me, he tried to muster a smile but it quickly turned into a grimace.

"Hey," he croaked, his voice weak. "You didn't have to come."

"Of course I did," I said, sitting on the edge of his bed and placing a hand on his forehead. "You’re burning up. How long have you been feeling like this?"

"A few hours," he admitted, closing his eyes as if the effort of speaking was too much. "I didn't want to bother you."

"You're never a bother, Kenan," I replied softly, brushing his hair back. "Let me take care of you."

He sighed, the sound heavy with both relief and embarrassment. "I hate you seeing me like this," he mumbled.

"I don't mind at all. I'm just worried about you," I said, giving him a reassuring smile. "Now, have you taken anything for the fever?"

He shook his head. "Couldn't keep anything down."

"Okay, let's start with some water," I suggested. "Can you sit up for me?"

Kenan nodded and with a little help from me, he managed to sit up, though he was clearly struggling.

I handed him a glass of water, and he took small sips, his face scrunching up in discomfort.

"Slowly," I advised, rubbing his back gently. "We don't want it coming back up."

"Ugh," he groaned. "Don't even mention that. I've been throwing up all morning."

I winced sympathetically. "Poor thing. Do you think you can manage some medicine if I get it for you?"

"Maybe," he replied, looking doubtful. "But stay here with me, okay?"

"I’m not going anywhere," I promised. "Let me just grab what you need."

I quickly fetched some medicine from his bathroom and returned to his side. Kenan looked up at me with a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment. "You're too good to me," he muttered.

"You're my boyfriend," I said, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "Taking care of you is the least I can do."

He managed a weak smile. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," I replied, helping him take the medicine. "Now, let’s get you feeling better."

The next few hours were spent trying to keep him comfortable. I wiped his face with a cool cloth, brought him more water, and even made some soup, though he barely managed a few spoonfuls.

Throughout it all, he kept apologizing for being a burden.

"Stop that," I chided gently. "You'd do the same for me."

"Yeah, but I wouldn’t look half as good doing it," he quipped, a ghost of his usual humor peeking through.

I laughed softly. "You're still handsome, even when you’re sick."

He pouted. "Liar."

"Nope, it’s the truth," I insisted. "Now, try to get some rest."

Kenan nodded, finally closing his eyes. I stayed by his side, stroking his hair and murmuring soothing words.

He drifted off to sleep, his breathing evening out. I watched him, my heart aching at how vulnerable he looked.

A few hours later, he woke up again, looking a bit better but still clearly unwell. "You’re still here," he said, sounding surprised.

"I told you, I’m not going anywhere," I repeated, squeezing his hand.

"I feel bad," he admitted. "You should be out having fun, not stuck here with me."

"Kenan, there's nowhere else I'd rather be right now," I said firmly. "I care about you, and I want to be here."

He sighed, seeming to accept my words. "Okay. But can you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

"Just...hold me?" he asked, looking a bit embarrassed.

I smiled warmly. "Of course."

I climbed into bed next to him, wrapping my arms around his still-feverish body. He snuggled into me, his head resting on my chest. "This helps," he mumbled. "You make me feel better."

"I'm glad," I whispered, kissing the top of his head. "Just rest. I’ve got you."

We lay there together, the room quiet except for the sound of his breathing.

[hotwritergf]

Im not sure if theres anything you can do with this, i often see fics about waking up with a boner but what about nocturnal emissions? Where Eddie is sharing a bed with reader/bestfriend reader and hes woken up covered in cum

👽

Eddie has a wet dream. Eddie Munson x female reader. Smut. Blurb.

I hope you enjoy, ty for the request! ♱

Waking up in Eddie’s bed was always the most comfortable way for you to wake up. His bed sheets always felt cooler, the wind through his window always hit you just right. This morning’s weather was miserable, rain drops slapping on the trailer caused you to stir in your sleep, waking you up. Peeking your eyes open, squinting them to adjust the bright light shining through his cheap nylon curtains. Eddie was turned to face away from you, a mound of his curls spread across your pillow. That man has no sense of personal space, one of his legs was laying across yours and his ass was tucked up against your hips. Looks like you took the role of the big spoon last night.

Rubbing your eyes, you take in your surroundings. Smiling down at your snoring boyfriend, you rub your palm up and down his back, tracing the freckles like they were a dot to dot puzzle. Eddie begins to stir, groaning and turning his body around to face you, smiling with his eyes still firmly closed, not wanting to wake up.

“Morning beautiful” he whispers, his voice hoarse and deeper than usual. His hand cups your cheek, pulling your face into a kiss.

“Morning Teddy.” You sigh, Eddie turns his body around completely. He’s laying on his back, his arm wraps around you pulling you closer to him as if he didn’t get enough cuddles the night before. Your hand travels to his chest, running your fingers down his skin and slipping through his body hair. It’s a dance the pair of you do every morning, he always wakes up with morning wood and you love nothing more than to wake him up with your fist for him to fuck.

Your nails reach his chest pubes, you scratch through them lightly, teasing him as you usually down. But your skin touches them, they’re damp, wet even. “Eds?” You question, assuming he’s so worked up already that pre-cum has leaked onto him. You look up at him, his face flushed and his hands covering his eyes. You feel down to his cock, and it’s soft, even more wet than his hair. Looking back up at Eddie, you smirk.

“Oh sweetheart..” you tease, “I won’t mention this again.. on one condition.” Giggling and removing his hands from his blushing face. Planting gentle kisses all over his pink cheeks, you take a handful of his ass cheek and spank him jokingly.

“What would that be, you evil little fiend.” Eddie groans, rubbing the sleep out the corner of his eyes. Smirking down at you, desperately trying to regain any control of the situation. He feels vulnerable and cracking jokes seems to be his escape plan.

“You tell me what you dreamt about, because clearly it was good.” You giggle against his arm and he feels the vibration travel through him. With his length still in your hand you squeeze the bottom of his cock playfully as you speak.

“Fiend.” Eddie repeats his words, kissing and licking your cheek as an act of rebellion. “You are a fiend, little maiden.” He chuckles, a deep belly laugh rippling through his stomach. “If you must know, I dreamt of you. All night long.” He winks and laughs again, grabbing your cheeks by his hands and you puff out your cheeks.

“Looks like you’ll have to wait a little longer for your morning glory then Eds. Until then, I guess I just get to tease you.” Smirking at him, watching as his eyes widen at your words.

“Heathen.” His words spat out like playful venom, but they’re in one ear and out the other as you straddle his waist, feeling his cum soaked cock underneath your underwear clad pussy. Nibbling down his chest, paying special attention to his nipples while you rut your hips over him. Feeling his cock immediately begin to harden, rubbing against your lacey underwear. Eddie adjusts his position and slips his silky tip inside you, moaning as he feels you clench your warm wet walls around him.

With the both of you giggling and getting worked up simultaneously, you hope Eddie gets blessed with another dream like this again.

[darl-ingfics]

I absolutely love all your fics, especially your Sicktember series!!! 💖💖💖 You write everything so well, especially the fluff. I was wondering if you’d be able to write a miserable San with what he thinks is a head/chest cold that actually turns out to be the flu with ot8 caretakers? I understand that you’re still figuring San out though, so if you’re not comfortable writing for him yet I’m happy with the sickie being Seokmin instead with ot13 caretakers. Only write this if you want to! I love all your writing, so whatever you write I’ll enjoy 😊

First of all, thank you for being SO kind and SO patient! I received your second message today, and that really inspired me to push through and get this done. And I'm so happy I did, cause writing again has felt really stress-relieving, so thank you! I tried my best to do San justice, and honestly, still don't think I've fully got it, but that hardly matters when you make the character so delirious they're really just along for the ride 😅 Hope you enjoy!!!

Friends Like These

Fandom: ATEEZ

Sickie: San (flu)

Caregiver(s): OT8

Word Count: 1,440

Yeosang had been, admittedly, spacing out when San’s head collapsed against his shoulder on the car ride home. Despite jumping slightly at the sudden weight against him, Yeosang relaxed instantly, arm wrapping instinctively around San’s shoulders.

“What’s up, Sannie?” Yeosang whispered, fingers curling absent mindedly in the hair at the nape of San’s neck. 

“Don’ feel gooood,” San whined, sniffling rather pathetically as his body shifted to try to someone get closer to Yeosang despite the constraints of the car. Yeosang frowned sympathetically, even though San couldn’t see. San had been fighting a cold for the past three days, and had rather blatantly lost that battle during practice that day, taking a very clear turn for the worse after lunch. No one was sure how it had happened; San had diligently been taking extra vitamins, drinking ridiculous amounts of water, sleeping as much as possible, trying any and every health hack TikTok supplied… But his efforts had been fruitless, leaving them with a sad, shivery, sniffly San. Which was more than enough to break even the stoniest of hearts. 

“I’m sorry, love,” Yeosang said gently. “We’re almost home, yeah? Then you can take a nice hot shower, and Wooyoung will make you dinner, and then you can sleep. Maybe Yunho or Mingi will even cuddle with you.”

San’s neck twisted so their eyes could meet. The look on his face, the pout and puppy dog eyes, almost made Yeosang laugh out loud from the pathetic-ness of it. “Why won’t you cuddle with me?”

Yeosang shrugged. “I thought you said Yunho was the best cuddler…”

“It’s because he’s tall,” Wooyoung interjected, leaning over from Yeosang’s other side. “That makes him best by default.”

“What rumors are you spreading about me?” Yunho’s head appeared between the headrests from the backseat. 

“All good things,” Wooyoung defended. 

Yunho pointed a warning finger at him. “It better be.” 

Yeosang chuckled softly at his members’ antics, noting how San did not react at all. That was troubling. Yeosang continued playing with his hair, trying to ignore the heat emanating from his friend’s neck until they got home and could do something about it. No need to worry anyone now…

*

Later that evening, on his way up for a shower, Mingi rounded the steps and nearly had a heart attack, not expecting someone to be sitting in the middle of the stairs. Hand clutched to his chest, Mingi turned back to said person: San, sat on the middle step, leaning heavily against the wall, eyes closed and breathing hard. San had been given the privilege of first shower, usually reserved for any member under the weather, and was currently sporting slightly damp hair and pajamas plus a hoodie; but was still obviously shivering. Mingi instantly scrambled up the steps towards him. “Sannie? What’s wrong?”

“I was…” He swallowed hard, wincing in pain. “Comin’ for dinner but… so far…” He coughed roughly, collapsing in on himself. Mingi’s brow knit in worry; San hadn’t sounded like that earlier. “Couldn’t breathe…”

“Sannie, I don’t think this is just a cold.” Mingi frowned, hand to San’s forehead. “You’re really warm. And you shouldn’t be too tired to make it down the steps.” San simply fell forward, collapsing against Mingi’s chest. The taller man wrapped his arms protectively around his friend, worry exploding in his brain. 

“Help?!” Mingi exclaimed, praying someone could hear him. 

Jongho appeared at the top of the stairs, towel around his neck. “What’s wrong?” His eyes widened when he saw what was happening. 

“Perfect,” Mingi sighed to himself. “Sannie’s really not feeling well. Can you help me move him?”

Jongho nodded, instantly attentive. “Back to bed?” San whined at the suggestion, squirming against Mingi’s chest. “What about the couch, hyung?” San nodded. Mingi pouted his lips at Jongho, heart breaking for their friend. 

San did not remember Mingi and Jongho maneuvering him from the steps to the couch. Did not remember having to stop at the bottom of the stairs from lack of energy, coughing again, nearly gagging from the mucus gathering in his throat. Did not remember his members gathering in the doorway, responding to Mingi’s earlier call for help and his hacking. Did not remember Seonghwa holding a paper towel to his mouth, forcing him to cough out a disgusting clump of yellow phlegm that would’ve have embarrassed him into the next century. Did not remember Mingi and Jongho practically dragging him to the couch, his body crumpling like a sack of potatoes and curling in on itself like a shriveled leaf. 

No, the next thing San remembered was…

“Sannie~”

He peeled his eyes open at Wooyoung’s sweet voice. Wooyoung was kneeling next to the couch, smiling softly. “I made you soup.” He gestured to a bowl on the coffee table behind him. San just blinked at him. “Think you can eat for me? If not, we can just put the soup in the fridge. I made enough so you could get a few meals out of it anyway.” 

“But he does need to get some of it to take his medicine.” Seonghwa appeared behind Wooyoung. His arms were crossed over his chest, his lips drawn into a tight line, but, even in his delirious state, San recognized his posture as worry rather than annoyance or anger. 

Wooyoung nodded. “Right. You still need to eat enough for medicine.” San blinked again, then sighed. Even that slight shift of air irritated his throat, made him cough. He felt hands rubbing his back, hoisting him up, supporting him. As soon as his breath returned, he felt a glass (cool, not cold) thrust against his lips, and let whoever it was pour the lukewarm water down his throat, not trusting his own hands to hold the glass. 

“Look, you’re already sitting up,” Wooyoung chirped. San opened his eyes (when had he closed them?). Seonghwa was taking the glass back to the kitchen, and Wooyoung was now holding the bowl of soup. “Let me give you a few bites, yeah?” San nodded, complied. When his body began to sag backwards, craving sleep, Yunho slipped in behind him, holding him up until Wooyoung could feed him enough for Seonhwa and Hongjoong’s approval. San was peripherally aware that all of his members were hovering close by (except for Mingi, who had run to shower as quickly as possible). Hongjoong kept checking his phone, murmuring to Seonghwa, who would murmur back. San didn’t appreciate them murmuring about him, but was in no position to comment on it. 

Once the captain had given the ‘okay, that should be enough’ cue, Wooyoung disappeared with the soup bowl and Hongjoong knelt on the floor in front of the couch, measuring out a dose of medicine. San was glad they were giving him liquid instead of pills.

“Yeah, we knew you couldn’t handle pills right now, buddy,” Yunho said, giving San a gentle squeeze. San blinked. He hadn’t realized he’d said that out loud. 

“You’ve been giving a running commentary for quite a while,” Hongjoong replied to that, offering San the medicine cup. “For the record, Seonghwa and I murmur about all of you. It’s just your turn today.” San frowned at his members so rudely eavesdropping on his inner thoughts, but accepted the medicine cup and tipped it back slowly. He choked a bit at the bitter flavor, and thankfully Yunho thrust a water bottle in his hands before he could start coughing again. After finishing half of the water, he gave the bottle back and instantly closed his eyes, leaning back in Yunho’s embrace. 

“See? I told you he was the best cuddler,” Yeosang insisted from somewhere. The rest of the members responded to him, but San’s brain was already shuttling him back to sleep to the comforting lull of their voices.

And even though he was also technically asleep at the time, San had an unconscious memory of Yunho petting his hair and kissing his forehead before slipping out from underneath him. Of Yeosang curling up on the other side of the couch, San’s legs resting in his lap. Of Mingi covering him with their coziest blanket. Of Wooyoung setting extra water and tissues on the table for him. Of Jongho singing softly close by, protecting him from bad dreams. Of Hongjoong kneeling next to him with their thermometer gun, taking his temperature. Of Seonghwa sitting in the armchair across from the couch, watching over him under the guise of reading a book.

Even asleep, San could feel his members’ love. And not even the following day’s flu diagnosis could make him feel all that bad with friends like these in his corner. 

Final Note: Again, I cannot reiterate how THANKFUL I am for your kindness, Anon. Your messages we so incredibly sweet, and even your question of when to expect the fic was so respectful and I am so lucky to have a community that supports and encourages this type of creative production in a way that acknowledges and supports the natural ups and downs of life. Thank you again for inspiring me to finish this without pushing; it's people like you who make this enjoyable.

Final Note: Again, I cannot reiterate how THANKFUL I am for your kindness, Anon. Your messages were so incredibly sweet, and even your question of when to expect the fic was so respectful and I am so lucky to have a community that supports and encourages this type of creative production in a way that acknowledges and supports the natural ups and downs of life. Thank you again for inspiring me to finish this without pushing; it's people like you who make this enjoyable. 😘

[celestial-toys]

That I Would Be Good [1/5]

How to Help

You take note of the two people on this couch with you. These innocent lives you brought into this awful world, with no thought given to the consequences. Stereotyped them down into boxes and expected a perfect fit—naive enough to think you could bring a fantasy to life.

You really want to apologize for falling into the business of playing God.

- - - - - - -

In This Chapter

Moon attempts to care for you as you do a little bedrotting.

The boys debate over taste in entertainment as you cry over work stress.

Much to Sun's chagrin though it all may be, you're saved from a potential night spent sleeping with your dog on the cold, hard hallway floor.

Pairing: Sun x Moon x Reader

Word Count: 5,174

Contains: [AU - Real World] [depiction of depression] [crying] [arguing] [an episode of vertigo] [tension] [fear]

A/Ns: This is a songfic. Lyrics and title are from 'That I Would Be Good' by Alanis Morissette.

This fic is part of my AU “[Not] Made by Design”, the full series can be found here.

Lastly but certainly not least, this fic is dedicated to my friend Adrianna @roses-and-tears, whom I’ve been teasing with the existence of this fic for far too long. Thank you for your patience as I took my sweet time on this, and thank you for your patience with me in general. Your friendship means a lot to me, as does your endless support of my writing. I’m really grateful to have you in my life. Happy Birthday, Adri. 💛

That I would be good even if I did nothing.

Late afternoon sunlight slips through the slim crack between the drawn curtains covering your balcony doors. Over the past hours you’ve absently watched it grow from a bright yellow at noon to a vibrant orange now, the thin line cast across your bedsheets growing longer as the sun slips lower and lower. It serves as the only illumination in the room, all of your various lights and screens turned off in an effort to pretend that it’s an acceptable hour to be miserably curled up in bed, ignoring the world.

The occasional soft, muffled sounds of various housework being done by your—rightfully concerned, you suppose, yet surprisingly concerned, if you’re being honest—partners prevents you from ignoring the entire world, though. The subtle reminder that they’re here with you, that the house isn’t really empty, serves as a comfort that you aren’t sure you deserve. A small part of you wishes you truly were alone again, so at least you’d have a good reason to feel this way. You’d certainly feel less guilty about it too.

To their credit, they’ve handled this episode pretty well. Giving you space when you request it and proximity when you need it. Checking in on you. Keeping you clean, hydrated, and fed to the best of their ability in spite of your reluctance.

You just wish you could pull yourself out of this already.

You have work to do.

The mere thought of all that you’ve fallen behind on has you reaching up, grabbing at the corners of your pillow and tugging them down over your ears, eyes pinching closed in desperate avoidance.

Through the pillow you barely pick up on the muffled sound of soft knocking at your door.

You sigh, and manage a weak acknowledgment. “Yeah?”

Moon’s low voice rumbles through the barrier. “May I come in?”

You cough, clearing your parched throat. “...Yeah.”

The door swings open slowly and you squint, expecting the sting of the bright hallway light to hit, but it never does. You crack an eye open, releasing your hold on the pillow and tilting your head to watch him enter.

Your voice comes out more aggravated than you intend it to sound. “We got a bulb out in the hallway or something?”

Moon pauses halfway through closing the door behind him, his monitor swiveling around to face you. “Hmm?”

You clarify. “The light’s off out there.”

Understanding straightens the scrunched lines on his display that serve as his eyebrows. “Oh, no. The lights are fine, I just…” His monitor swings back around to align with his body as he gently pushes the door closed. “I’ve gathered that it hurts your eyes.”

The door quietly clicks shut and the light of his screen dims, adjusting its brightness to match that of the room. “The contrast, I mean. It being so bright out there when the bedroom is… so dark.”

A look, half-guilt and half-apology tugs at your features as you watch him approach the bed. “I’m sorry…”

His monitor clicks about 20 degrees to the right. “What for?”

His question is spoken so softly, so gently, and if you didn’t know better you’d almost believe that he really can’t think of anything you’d have to apologize to him for.

You know that couldn’t be further from the truth, though.

You’re about to acknowledge his ironic disdain for the darkness, but as you watch him reach down and experimentally lift the still-full bottle of water he refilled for you some odd hours ago, you pause. As his neutral expression curls into a small frown, you realize you should apologize for that, too. Your mind quickly offers up more and more things that you should apologize for, and within seconds your eyes are welling up with tears.

“Everything…” you say as you blink, letting them roll along your temples and—annoyingly—into one of your ears.

His monitor turns halfway toward you, but his false eyes don’t follow the motion, still locked on the bottle of water he’s thoughtfully swirling in his hand. His real eye must take in the state of you though, either that or his mics picked up on the emotion in your voice, because he passes the bottle into his left hand before turning and gesturing down toward the mattress with his right. “May I sit next to you?”

You nod, knowing he can see the motion even in the dim light, and you shift a bit from your dent in the mattress for the first time in… well, probably since Sun poked his proverbial nose in here an hour or two ago to make sure you were still breathing. Begrudgingly, you haul yourself up into a somewhat-vertical position, knowing if you don’t do it now Moon will coax you into it soon anyways. You pull your long sleeve down over your hand and use it to wipe at a few wet tear tracks.

Moon settles himself down on the mattress next to you, gently helping to pull away the sheets just enough to free you from your blanket prison as you halfheartedly reposition yourself. He rests the bottle on his left knee, monitor turning toward his right to face you.

“I don’t think that’s necessary. I think… a lot of the things you apologize for don’t even need one in the first place, and as for the things that do need one… well, you’ve already given them and I— …we’ve already accepted them.”

You sigh. “I wish it were easier for me to believe you.”

His tone has an edge of resignation, or… defeat, in it when he replies. “...So do I, star.”

His simulated breath deepens a bit and in the quiet of the room you hear his cooling system kick down a notch due to his shift into physical inactivity. He passes the water bottle into his right hand, his gaze flicking down toward it and then up to you. “Can you take a sip of this for me, please?”

Now that you’ve actually tried to speak and realized how… gross your mouth feels, you take it from him without reluctance and take not one but several sips, greedily downing it as your body finally recognises its thirst.

Settling the bottle in your lap, you shake your head a bit at his offered hand. “I’ll hold onto it for now… thank you.”

You steal another glance up at his monitor and see a small, unexpected smile and kind crescent eyes. “Of course.”

As his hands fold neatly in his lap, you question him. “Is Sun mad at me?”

His expression fades back into one of concerned confusion. “Why do you think that?”

You shrug and take another sip of your water, downplaying your explanation. “…Dunno. Just feels like that sometimes.��� You think for a moment. “I wouldn’t blame him for it if he was. Wouldn’t blame you either.”

Moon’s display swivels side to side on its axis, shaking his head in disagreement. “I don’t think he is. I mean… you know Sun. He’s cold. Not as much as he once was, but still colder than I am, at least. Distant. Quiet. But… I don’t believe that he’s mad.”

He shifts, leaning back against the headboard and stretching his legs out across the length of the bed, crossing them as he releases an imitation of a breath. Angling his screen back toward you, he whispers, “You wanna know what I think?”

You nod, eyes widening in curiosity.

“I think he’s just as worried about you as I am. He just doesn’t know how to show it, or what to even do with such an emotion in the first place.”

You frown, your mind automatically finding yourself at fault. “I—I did my best to train your AIs identically… I don’t—I don’t know what happened with his emotional processing—”

Moon cuts you off, redirecting your attention with a gentle hand on your arm. “That’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean to blame you. AIs…” his voice and expression both turn playful, “…we’re a dangerous thing. You never truly know how we’re gonna turn out.” He nudges your shoulder with his, and you fight back a tiny laugh.

A comfortable sort of silence falls over the dark room, and you break it with one more quiet question. “…What’s he doing right now?”

“Same thing as Zero is, actually. Sleeping.”

His features dissipate, display changing as he pulls up an image he’d apparently taken of the dog and the bot sprawled across the couch. You huff a laugh at the sight of the two of them attempting to fit together.

“He told me he was up all night, but wouldn’t elaborate on why. So I wasn’t very shocked when he crashed in the living room and asked me to bring him his cable earlier.”

You sigh and look away, half-amused and half-stressed. The image fades, Moon’s default expression taking its place. You take another swig from your bottle before leaning back and to your left, the pillow behind you sliding along the headboard until you’re pressed against Moon’s side. “I wish he wouldn’t strain his battery like that. Gonna have to bring him in for a premature replacement at this rate.”

Moon nods, humming a quiet concurrence as he raises an arm, carefully wrapping it around your shoulders, your silent request for comfort heard loud and clear.

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

Neither of you ever got an answer as to what had kept Sun up that night. But, if you’d been able to look inside his mind and see his most recent activity, you’d have found a messy assortment of browser tabs, each one’s title containing the keywords “depression” and “how to help.”

That I would be good even if I got the thumbs down.

You’re settled atop Sun’s lap on your too-small couch, back comfortingly pressed against his chest, legs stretching out across the cushions to rest on Moon’s thighs. He’s the only one out of the three of you that’s actually sitting on the couch properly, Sun instead opting for his usual lengthwise position, one arm draped along the back of the couch and the other wrapped around your waist.

One advantage of his mechanical body is that he can keep his head twisted 90 degrees to the left, facing the TV for as long as he’d like and never know the pain of a sore neck.

He seems just as invested in what’s on the TV as Moon is, and if the repetitive shifts in lighting and audio are anything to go by, you’re willing to bet they’re having another silent argument over what to watch. Too absorbed in the game on your phone to be bothered by the inconsistent ambiance, you brush aside the stray thought to remind them that they could each just watch their own show in their HUDs instead of fighting over the big screen. Their strange insistence on adhering to the “human” way of doing things is something for you to psychoanalyze another time.

You half-listen to the TV as it switches back and forth between what sounds like BBC Earth, and The (ironically named) Learning Channel, taking note of the way Sun’s body warms. His cooling system audibly kicks in, and the creator in you takes immediate notice, the attention to your phone waning as your concern over Sun’s internal temperature rises.

You pause your game, pulling in a breath as you prepare to interject on whatever silent argument is getting him so heated, but they beat you to the punch, their internal exchange suddenly becoming external.

“—Because we’ve seen it before! I already know everything I could possibly need to know about crabs!” Moon’s voice cuts through the background noise and you flinch a bit at its sudden volume.

Sun’s curled fingers splay out flat across your stomach, apparently trying to calm you and argue with Moon at the same time. “It’s not about knowledge! It’s about the implications! The metaphor!”

Moon’s monitor pivots away from the TV and over to Sun, his volume lowering a bit as his optics pass over your form curled against Sun. “What implications?”

You twist around a bit to get a glance at the screen when the narrator says something that catches your ear.

“Our spy becomes the crab's defender.”

The three of you turn and watch as a robotic imitation of a crab serves as a mechanical wall of defense between a vulnerable, soft shelled crab and a hungry stingray.

You feel Sun’s arm tighten around you.

Confused and unimpressed, Moon turns back toward his solar counterpart. “Mhm, that’s lovely, Sun, but what does it have to do with us?”

Sun’s volume drops as you feel his body mimic a sigh. “More than your stupid ‘Thousand Coupons and Counting’ show does, that’s for sure…”

You feel your phone buzz in your hand, the darkened screen lighting up once again and drawing your attention away from Moon’s rebuttal.

“Oh, come on, that’s not even the name...”

Their petty quarrel quickly becomes background noise as your focus zeroes in on the message preview in your notifications.

[ Hey, sorry to bother you at such an hour, but I finally had time to relay your most recent proposed alterations to the client’s requested design… ]

Your stomach drops as you tap to open the message and are met with a bullet point list of complaints and questions relayed from the client through one of your colleagues. You’re grateful that your team has a dedicated customer relations department because if you had to communicate with this particular client directly, you may be out of a job.

Your mood quickly grows sour and defeated as you scan over the list of criticisms, your colleague’s addition of a sympathetic [😕] at the end of their message doing little to soften the blow. You’ve spent countless hours trying to find work-arounds and alternatives to this client's unrealistic requests, the head of your team insistent that you find a way to please them lest you cost the company a “substantial potential profit.”

Clenching your jaw, you fight to keep a level head. You fight the urge to type out a hasty response, one you know would be full of childish, whining complaints about the inconvenient timing and the client’s unrealistic demands. You then fight the subsequent urge to just turn your phone off, and maybe hurl it through a window for good measure.

“Why would we need to know that? When will we ever need to afford fifteen 2-liters of Mountain Dew and ten jugs of Tide on a tight budget?! Who shops like that?!” Sun’s rapidly rising voice is enough to finally break through your swirling thoughts. The sound of your boys arguing, as ridiculous as the topic may be, only adds fuel to your emotional fire.

You fight the urge to cry, and you fail.

Clicking your phone screen off, you curl further in on yourself and press your temple against the back cushion of the couch. Moon’s voice dies down halfway through his retort, his attention quickly drawn to your sudden display of emotion. Sun’s focus falls on you at the same time, his sensors instantly picking up on the shift in your breathing and increase in your heart rate.

Moon’s body shifts, turning toward you and leaning closer as the hand he’d had resting on your knee begins to pet up and down the length of your shin in a gentle bid for your attention.

Sun aggressively whispers to Moon as the hand he’d had resting on the back of the couch comes down to hover anxiously over your head. “You idiot, look what you did!”

Moon mirrors his hushed tone. “What I did? You’re the one being unreasonable!”

You shake your head and clear your throat before cutting in. “This isn’t… about that.”

Sun’s hand comes down to awkwardly pet down your hair as you lean away from where you’d head-butted the couch cushion. “What… is this about then? What upset you?”

You turn your head, pressing your chin against your shoulder to dry the tears that had trailed down and converged there. You internally debate over how to explain yourself before giving up shortly after, opting instead to silently pull the message back up on your phone and hand the thing to Sun for him to read.

He takes in the message’s contents with typical robotic speed before handing the phone over to Moon, an unreadable expression on his display. Moon scrolls back up, reading the list of complaints and releasing a sigh as he hands the phone back to you. “They’re being unreasonable.”

You nod in agreement, releasing a sigh of your own. “Can’t tell ‘em that, though.”

Your words hang in the air as a contemplative silence falls over the room, and it’s then that you idly note that one of them must have muted the TV at some point. With their debate over taste in entertainment quickly drawn to a close, you suddenly feel guilty. “I’m sorry…”

“What for?” Sun’s voice questions over your shoulder.

“Ruining another evening…”

Moon scoffs, his retort lighthearted with a dose of rare sarcasm. “Oh, of course! How dare you interrupt our ‘important’ television debate with your silly little real-world problems.”

You glance at him, cracking a small smile, but it doesn’t last. Sighing, you lean further back into Sun, letting your head fall back until it’s resting on his shoulder. From the corner of your periphery, you see his head pull back and tilt down to get a better look at you.

“It’s not even just this one client, it’s… I mean- it is, but… fighting over what is and isn’t possible… nowadays it just reminds me of how I fought with the team over your designs. Reminds me of all the ways that I let you down. All the ways I failed you.”

You watch a frown form on Moon’s display, and you’re about to apologize for dredging up the past again, but Sun’s hands are quick to distract you. Reaching down and around you, he takes the phone from your hand, moving slowly enough to give you time to resist his attempts should you choose to. Meeting no resistance, he cradles the phone in your lap, and watching over your shoulder, opens the message once again and begins typing out a response.

[ Please remind them that while we are always eager to please, there are certain limitations to what sorts of ideas we can bring to life. Link them to our Product Design FAQ page if you haven’t already. I’ll review their comments and look into potential alterations first thing Monday morning, when our business hours resume. Thank you. ]

Moon’s curiosity got the best of him, leaning across the length of the couch to get an upside-down look at the phone screen. Rotating his faceplate 180 degrees, he hums in approval before leaning back, head slowly completing a 360 and righting itself once again.

Sun’s thumbs pull away from the keyboard and he requests your approval in a low voice. “That sound good?”

You want to ask him why he’s helping you. You want to ask Moon why he isn’t mad. You want to ask them why you’re even still employed, why you even deserve the job you’re apparently so bad at. You want to apologize for everything under the sun.

You take note of the two people on this couch with you. These innocent lives you brought into this awful world, with no thought given to the consequences. Stereotyped them down into boxes and expected a perfect fit—naive enough to think you could bring a fantasy to life.

You really want to apologize for falling into the business of playing God.

But you don’t. You re-read the message and let out a soft, resigned sigh, nodding. “Better than any response I’d be able to come up with tonight. Thank you.”

You raise a hand, tapping the send button, and then watch as Sun puts your phone on do not disturb before clicking it off once more. You point to the coffee table and he places it there, and Moon reaches for the TV remote at the same time. As you quietly readjust yourself in Sun’s hold, Moon offers you the remote with a soft question. “What would you like to watch?”

That I would be good if I got and stayed sick.

Flicking the light off, you make your way out of the bathroom and down the hall. Zero trails directly behind you, the dog insistent as always that you be accompanied on the long, arduous journey from the bedroom to the bathroom and back.

Perhaps, this time she could sense something that you couldn’t, because no more than a few steps into your short trip back, something quickly begins to feel… off. Closing your eyes and coming to a halt in the middle of the hall, you feel your stomach drop as you register the dreaded, familiar feeling of the world starting to spin around you.

Attempting a deep breath, you open your eyes and immediately regret it, disoriented and beginning to grow a bit panicked at how quickly this came over you. Muttering a soft “fuck… not again…” you reach out, placing a hand on the wall in an attempt to steady yourself. You try to at least make it back to the bedroom, but a terribly familiar hint of nausea makes itself known, and you suddenly aren’t sure if you should try for the bedroom or the bathroom.

Your body ends up deciding for you, a wave of lightheadedness teaming up with the dizzying sensation and quickly convincing you that taking a seat right where you are isn’t such a bad idea. As you slowly slide down the wall, butt thumping against the floor, you shakily call out. “Guys?”

Within five seconds, two round screens with wide digital eyes peek out from the bedroom’s open doorway. Stumbling over one another to get out of the room as soon as they see you on the floor, they question you in tandem. “What happened?!”

Clearing the short distance in a few strides to reach you, they both crouch down, one on each of your sides, Zero nervously pacing back and forth between them.

“I… I don’t know. It just hit me again out of nowhere.”

Moon’s faceplate clicks back and forth rapidly, a few degrees to the right, then a few degrees to the left. You close your eyes again, unable to look at him for long. You don’t have it in you to tell him that the motion itself is a dizzying sight. Sun seems to gather as much from his quiet observation, reaching out and roughly pinching the edge of Moon’s display, bringing the lunar bot’s anxious fidgeting to an abrupt halt.

“Vertigo?” Sun wastes no time in getting straight to the point, as usual.

You press your head back against the wall with a quiet groan. “Uhuh.”

“Can you tell us what—exactly—you’re feeling right now?” Moon questions you softly as he subtly struggles to pry Sun’s iron grip off of his head.

“Uhh… dizzy… lightheaded… getting kinda nauseous…”

Sun’s hand gravitates toward its favorite spot—that being around your neck—and since you don’t see it coming, you flinch.

He sighs, thumb finding its home on your pulse. “…It’s just me. You should know by now that I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You huff a humorless laugh in spite of your current state. “Yeah, well, I should know a lotta things by now.”

Sun doesn’t humor you with a snarky response, too focused on the current matter at hand. “Your pulse is pounding. Fast.” He’s quiet for a beat before tacking on a question. “Do you not feel it?”

You scoff. “Of course I do, Sun. I’m just used to it. It’s just doing that ‘cause I’m…” you hesitate, but honesty slips out of you rather easily in this state, “...scared.”

Concern seeps into his voice. “Of me?”

This time there’s a bit of humor in the laugh that he draws out of you. “No, Sunny… not you. Not this time.” You press the heels of your hands into the floor, searching for something grounding. “...It’s this. I’m scared of this. Whatever’s happening to me.”

Moon chimes in. “It’s gonna pass. It always does.” He places a hand on your knee. “And we’re right here. Gonna help you through it, just like always.”

You dare to crack your eyes open again, and find his screen blessedly still, light dim. “Still scares me though… don’t know why it’s happening.”

Sun retracts his hand from your neck. “We’ll figure it out. First priority is getting you situated somewhere more suitable. Do you want to go back to bed?”

You mull it over, wishing your nausea would decide to either get worse or get gone already so you could make up your mind. “I… wanna get back in bed, but… I don’t know if this nausea is gonna get worse or not.”

Sun almost shakes his head, but stops just short of it, not wanting to mirror Moon and make things worse. “You know we have a bucket dedicated to solving that very problem, so you can cross that off of your list of concerns. Besides, if it gets worse and you change your mind, we can always take you to the bathroom, easily.”

Sighing, you allow his reasoning to override your anxious, indecisive mind. “Yeah… okay. That’s fine by me, as long as you’re sure you don’t mind.”

Moon answers for both of them. “Of course we don’t.”

Sun leans back on his heels. “If that was the only thing keeping you, then why don’t we move this to the bedroom?”

In spite of your current state, you can’t help but crack a smile, unable to resist the opportunity to tease him. “Goodness, Mr. Sun. Too eager to even buy me dinner first?”

It takes the solar bot a moment to process the implications of your words, but the way the concerned expression on his face swaps to an empty black screen is enough to tell you that he got the joke—and that perhaps—he didn’t like it.

His voice comes out deadpan as he suddenly stands, distancing himself from you in more ways than one. “Ha-ha, very funny. If you’re feeling well enough to joke around then perhaps you don’t need my help after all.”

Moon grabs ahold of Sun’s ankle as he attempts to walk away, mirroring the iron grip the solar bot had recently had on him. “Come on, Sunny, don’t be like that…”

Sun gives a sharp tug on his leg, but Moon’s grip doesn’t relent. Even without a face nor a voice, you can still sense him silently telling Moon to not test him. You know better than almost anybody that their physical strength is perfectly matched to one another. They could stay locked in a stalemate until their batteries died if either of them truly desired it.

As amusing as it may be to push Sun’s buttons, even you know when something’s about to go too far, so you make the call to break it up. “Ah, let him go, Moon. He’s put up with enough of my shit for one night.”

Moon releases his counterpart, and Sun mutters a quiet “That’s right.” beneath his breath, striding back into the bedroom.

Zero yawns into a whine.

You shakily reach a hand up to pet her and she bends down, slipping her head beneath it. Your voice is something close to jaded when you address the quiet lunar automaton still crouched beside you. “Well, now that I’ve successfully put everyone in a bad mood, I suppose it’s time for bed, huh?”

He’s his usual understanding self when he replies. “I know it wasn’t intentional, star.”

“Yeah, but… I know he’s sensitive. Should really get around to repairing that brain-to-mouth filter of mine one of these days…” You trail off, making an effort to stand, and regret it quite quickly as the world starts to spin again.

Moon’s hands brace you instantly, and a soft request fills your ears as you clamp your eyes shut again. “Let me carry you instead?”

“...Please.”

“Of course.”

The three of you make your way back to bed, and in spite of Sun’s previous statement implying he wouldn’t help you, you notice the way the room is already prepared for you. Bed sheets straightened, pillows situated, lights dimmed as low as they can go. The movie you’d paused is no longer waiting on the TV screen, the device having been fully turned off, and you know that Sun must’ve read somewhere that bright, flashing, moving images on screens can make your symptoms worse. (Who’d’ve guessed.)

He slips back out of your closet as Moon places you down in the center of the mattress, your just-in-case bucket dangling from his hand. His hands settle on his hips after he places it down near the nightstand, still-blacked-out monitor swinging slowly, surveying the room.

“Last time this happened, crackers and water seemed to take the edge off. Would you like to try that again? Do you think you can stomach it?”

He doesn’t mention his (over)reaction in the hallway, and you elect to drop it too.

“I… yeah. Guess I’ll try anything that might help.”

He’s out of the door and off to the kitchen immediately, and back with both items in hand by the time Moon gets you both settled in bed. Moon holds your water and you take the crackers as Sun takes his seat on the other side of you, Zero curling up at your feet. Your shaky hands fiddle with the packaging for a moment before black and yellow segmented fingers hover over your own. You pause, and Sun makes quick, silent work of parting the wrapper. You offer up a quiet “...thanks…” that receives no verbal reply.

A few crackers and a quarter cup of water later, you’re relieved to find your symptoms beginning to ease. It’s no magical cure, but you feel more stable than you did on your own out in the hallway, where you honestly might’ve slept had you been left to your own devices.

Two of Moon’s fingers press against your inner wrist. “Hmm… better, but not back to baseline. Are you still scared?”

You’re quiet for a minute, trying to search for the source of your fear. “Scared… that this is gonna keep happening at random, forever.”

Moon is quick to reassure you. “I’m confident that we’ll work out the root cause of these episodes one day.”

You mumble defeatedly through a mouthful of chewed cracker. “I sure fuckin’ hope so.”

Of course, it’s only once you’re content to let silence fall over the room that Sun speaks.

“You don’t need to fear it regardless. Even if this is with you forever. Because…” he releases a sigh, full of reluctance, but finishes his sentence nonetheless, “...it’s not like we’re going anywhere either.”

A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. I'll be back tomorrow with part 2! You can also find my notes and commentary on this fic right here on Ao3. Links to the playlist and moodboard for [N]MbD can be found on this blog’s pinned post, as well as in the series notes on Ao3. Header Image Sources: x - x - x

[nostalgiclittlespace]

Request Type: Fic

Cg: Angel Dust (and others if you want to)

Babysitters: Up to you!

Little: Reader

Maybe reader regresses suddenly after the hotel is attacked (aka that involved that dang wall being broken again) and Angel Dust helps them calm down and takes care of them afterwards.

Hi, hi! Thank you for the request! I hope this delivers! This is my first time posting an agere fic, so I would appreciate feedback :)

SFW AGE REGRESSION FIC; KINK, NSFW, PROSHIP, MAP DNI

DO NOT REPOST Word count: 1222

Pairing: CG! Angel Dust x Little! Reader

Summary: After the Hazbin Hotel is attacked, you’re left feeling panicked and regressed. Good thing Angel there! (Hurt/comfort)

The Safest Place in Hell

Ah, life at the Hazbin Hotel!  What could be better?  Though the place was kind of a joke in Hell fairly empty, you had still managed to find a home there.  From the hotel’s owner, Charlie, to the elusive Radio Demon Alastor, you had friends everywhere!  

But Angel Dust was definitely your best friend.

As you skipped downstairs for breakfast, you scanned the lobby for the spider in question.  He had to work late last night (darn Valentino) but he should be home by now.  

As usual, the other hotel tenants occupied the lobby.  Nifty chased a couple bugs, Husk attended the bar.  Sir Pentious was talking with Charlie while Vaggie glared at Alastor’s smug smile.   But no sign of Angel.

It wasn’t uncommon for the arachnid to come home late though.  A turbulent work schedule combined with a horrible boss could do that.  So no need to worry!  

You hopped down the last step and waved to the others as you approached the bar.  Might as well bother Husker if Angel wasn’t around!

“Good morning, Husk!” you greeted, sliding onto a bar stool.

“Good for you maybe,” the bartender grumbled.  “Want something to eat?”

“Sure.  What do you have?”

A plate stacked high with pancakes appeared in front of you.  Husk dropped a set of silverware and placed a glass of water beside it.

“Nif made these earlier.  Made sure she saved enough for you.”

“Aw, thanks, Husk,” you grinned, already diving in.

Could life get any better?  A calm household, surrounded by friends, amazing food?  

B A N G ! ! !

You startled up, leaping a foot in the air.  Your attention was immediately stolen by the literal explosions that had overtaken the front doors.  The glass windows shattered, the doors blown off their hinges.

You shouldn’t have panicked, you knew that.  Random jerks attacking the hotel was a fairly common occurrence.  People who were just bored, who wanted to heckle Charlie’s pet project…

But between the sudden noises and threats and fire emerging from the doorway, yes, you did panic.

Ducking under your chair, you clapped your hands over your ears for cover.  Too noisy.  Too much commotion. 

Truth be told, the overstimulation hurt.  It hurt every corner of your brain as you tried to comprehend everything that was happening.

A pair of paws grabbed your arms and pulled you behind the bar, away from the fighting.  You curled into a ball, whining miserably and trying to swat them away.

“It’s okay, kid.  It’s me.  It’s Husk,” a low voice broke through your panic.  “Stay here, we’ll take care of this.”

You peaked between your fingers to see Husk extending his wings and pulling several metal-plated cards to attack the intruders.  He hopped over the countertop, rushing to meet the others in combat.  

As more screams and clatters filled the air around you, you felt your headspace becoming equally panicked.    Dust filled your lungs, generating wheezing coughs from your already shaking frame.  Cold sweat and a thunder heart threatened to break through your ribcage.  

Too much noise.  Too much movement.  Where’s Angel?

That thought alone made it worse.  Where was Angel?  Was he okay?  Was he home yet?  What if he was hurt in the crossfire?

Tears began slipping down your face, harsh hiccups following.  Where’s Angie?  Where’s Angie?  I want Angie!  

Thankfully, it seemed that God could hear your prayers, even in Hell.  The commotion slowly died down.  No more screams, no more destruction–

“And stay out, ya idiots!” a familiar, New-York-accented voice yelled.

Slowly, you perked up, your head emerging from where it had been cocooned.   Angie?

“Husk?  Husk, where’s the kid?”

“They’re behind the bar.”

 A quick shuffling towards the bar, and suddenly you were looking into Angel’s wide eyes.   He tossed his guns to the side and extended his arms towards you.    

“Angie!” you cried.

“Sweetheart!  Are you okay?”

Angel scooped you up, holding you close to his fluffy chest.  He wrapped his four arms around you, and you melted.  Goodness, he was so soft.  Between the well-kept fur covering his body and his arms to keep you secure, this was definitely the safest place in Hell.

“Scary,” you mumbled, burying your face in his shoulder.

“Yeah, I know, baby.  Just some old goons who don’t like the hotel is all.  They’re all gone.”

You sniffled. “I like the hotel.  ‘S nice.  Missed you.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice.  I missed you too.”

Finally, the storm had passed.  The bad guys were gone, your hero was home safe.  But now…the destruction still left its wake.  The adrenaline crashed, leaving only a fragile, shaken mindset behind.

“Didn’t know where you were,” you whimpered, refusing to loosen your grip on Angel’s.

“I was just running late from work, toots.  I’m home safe, see?”  

Still, your breath hitched and the tears resumed.  It was scary!  Angie wasn’t there!  He was home now, but what about before?

You mumbled something unintelligible, scared to remove yourself from the comforts of Angel’s hold as the tears poured down your cheeks.  Angel said something too, but you could tell from his subdued tone and the addition of Husk’s voice that he was conversing with the bartender.

“Yeah, I’m going to take them upstairs.  Just give them some cooldown time.  Yeah, thanks for keeping ‘em safe.”

Next thing you knew, Angel was adjusting his grip on you and you were being carried towards the stairs.  His stride gently bounced you as he hiked to his room.  The calm hallways also eased your disgruntled mind.  Sort of.

You didn’t truly find sanctuary until Angel arrived at his room.  He opened the door, managing not to jostle you at all.  As soon as the door closed behind you, you broke down completely.  You hiccuped harshly, with only your Caregiver’s hold to keep you steady.

“Ah, sweetheart, it’s okay,” Angel soothed, petting your head gently.  “It’s all over now, and you’re safe.  I’m safe too, see?  Deep breaths.”

You nodded quickly, recalling the routine you had developed for times like this.  Deep breaths in, slow breaths out.  Focus on Angel’s voice and the smell of his perfume.  Watch Fat Nuggets because he’s cute and comforting.  (The pig was actually at Angel’s feet, looking up at you with big eyes and occasionally snuffling around his owner’s heels)

“Bad guys all gone?” you asked shakily.

“Yeah,” Angel chuckled softly.  “Me and Husky scared them away.  Well, Vaggie helped a little.”

You giggled softly.  Surely, Auntie Vaggie helped a lot more than a little.  Angie was just being silly!

“Want your paci, sweetie?” he asked.

“Mhm.  ‘N snuggles?” you requested.

“Of course snuggles!” Angel grinned, giving you a squeeze.  “Maybe Fat Nuggets will join us?”

“Yeah!”

Angel carried you over to his bed, carefully lowering you onto the mattress.  Amidst the fluffy blankets and throw pillows, you felt right at home–a cocoon of comfort.  Fat Nuggets hopped onto the bed too; he trotted up to you, with your favorite plush in his mouth.  Loyally, he dropped it in your lap, his tail wagging like a dog’s.

“T’ank you, Nugs,” you smiled, hugging your stuffie.

As you pet Fat Nugget’s ears, Angel reached over to the bedside table and grabbed your pacifier.  Angel had gotten it for you as soon as he became your Caregiver–as such it held a special place in your heart.  

“Here, baby,” Angel smiled, holding the paci to your mouth.  

Parting your lips, he popped it into your mouth before settling down beside you.  He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.  Even Nuggets cuddled closer, nudging you with his nose affectionately.

“Feeling better, toots?” Angie asked, rubbing your head.

“Yeahs.”

“I’m glad.  Sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”

“‘S okay,” you yawned.

“No, it’s not.  But we’re doing our best, right?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, fidgeting with the fur on Angel’s hands.  

He was so soft.  Like a giant stuffed animal!  But his snuggles were so much better than what you could get from a toy.  Soft, warm, and loving.  

“You’re looking a little sleepy there,” Angel chuckled, no doubt watching your drooping eyes and longer blinks.

“No way,” you denied, shaking your head.

“Oh yeah?  Well, how about a story?” Angel grinned.

“Very Hungry Hellhound?” you requested.

“Sure, baby,” Angel laughed, reaching over to the nightstand to grab the book.

As the two of you settled down and Angel’s voice drifted through the air, your eyes gradually grew heavier and heavier.  Your paci bobbed in your mouth and your plush was tucked under your arm.  Even Fat Nuggets was dozing off.  Before Angel could even finish the story, you had fallen asleep.  Safe and sound.

[lenacosse]

hi! could you maybe write a oneshot that’s amy santiago x fem reader, fluffy/romantic/friends to lovers? i just got into this show and i really wanna read a good and short fic about her but i can’t find many.

Ordinary things

pairing: amy santiago x fem reader

cw: none

word count: 1,560

‘there's never gonna be an ordinary thing

no ordinary things with you

it's funny, but it's true

there's never gonna be an ordinary thing

as long as I'm with you’

═════════���══════

You set down your pen after finalising your last report of the night, eagerly you start to gather your stuff up at your desk to head home. You all had been moved to the night shift after rescuing Holt and Jake from Florida. It was causing a real strain on everyone’s mood, everyone was miserable and lacking all sources of happiness, you had undoubtedly learned your lesson. Once your bag was packed you stand up stretching your legs and scanning the floor. You eyes dart over to Amy’s desk to find her hunched over paperwork. You make your way over to her and place a gentle hand on her back.

“Hey, Ames. Shift is over.”

“I know,” she sighs. “Just got so much to do I can barely register anything.” She looks up at you with dark, tired eyes.

“How about you leave it for tomorrow? Come on I’ll take you home.”

“I don’t know… if I leave it I’ll have double the work tomorrow night,”

“I’ll help,”

“No, I can’t ask you to do that,” Amy insists, turning her focus back to the paperwork.

“You’re not asking, I’m offering. Now come on let’s go. Everyone else is gone, you need to rest.”

Amy takes a minute, looking between you and her paperwork as if deciding which is more important. Eventually she drops her pen and makes a move to start clearing up her desk. The two of you make your way out of the precinct and down to the carpark. You sit in a comfortable silence as you drive, it was always simple when you were with Amy. You didn’t have to force conversation or fabricate reality, she understood you perfectly and you appreciated that more than words could describe. There was something about her that made you feel warm, protected and appreciated. Maybe it was the way she looked at you, maybe it was the way she listened to you rant, maybe it was the way her intelligence inspired you. But it was something, a connection maybe, you’ve never believed in soulmates, but when you met Amy that changed. She was your soulmate, no matter your circumstance with her. There was nothing she could do to make you feel indifferent.

“Can we stop to get coffee?” Amy asked, drawing your attention back to the present.

“Yes, God knows we need it.” You smile.

You pull into the nearest coffee shop, Amy runs in to get it and you wait in the spot. From the window you can see her, even exhausted and overworked she radiates kindness. Even watching her interact with the barista has you smiling, you’ve always tried to push down your feelings, marking it as a childish crush. Besides even if you did tell her how you felt it would be pointless, Amy was strictly into men. You were almost certain there was something brewing between her and Jake, maybe that was far fetched but everyone else seemed to think so, as did you even if that made you want to curl into a pit blackness.

“You keep drifting off, everything okay?” Amy said as she got into the car handing you your coffee.

“Oh, yeah no I’m fine. Just tired.”

Amy just smiles, taking a sip from her coffee as you continue your drive.

“Hey, thanks for this, I need to talk to someone other than a criminal.” Amy laughed softly.

“Honestly same, everyone is so clearly done with this. I hope we’re put back onto days soon, I haven’t seen daylight in weeks.”

“Me too. But really thank you, I really appreciate you.”

“Of course, what are friends for?” You smiled, she gave you a short nod, turning her attention out the window.

She sighs then turns back to you, “I want to ask you something, but you have to hear me out. I may be way off, but I can’t keep this in anymore.”

“Okay, is everything alright?”

“Yeah fine.” She bites her lip then looks at you, “I like you I’ve liked you for a long time now, but I’ve been too scared to tell you. I don’t want to lose our friendship and you mean so much to me and I really really want to try this- oh my god I mean do you even like girls? I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said anything-”

“Amy.” You cut her off, just as you pull up to her apartment complex. You take her hand. “Breathe.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No. I’m glad you did,” you run your thumb gently over her hand, “I feel the same, I really really like you.” You smile at her, your eyes bearing into hers. “But I thought you had something with Jake..”

Amy furrows her eyebrows, shooting you a baffled expression. “Jake?!”

“Well- actually I can’t justify it.”

“You’re really bad at reading signals, huh?”

“Shut up,” you laugh, your cheeks flushing ever so slightly.

“How about on Saturday, when we’re off you come around? I can make dinner?” Amy suggests.

“Yeah, I’d really like that.” You smile, a little too obnoxiously.

“Okay, cool cool cool. See you there.”

You both share an awkward hug which leads to you both furiously blushing like teenagers, you watched Amy get out of the car and of course laughed at her embarrassed wave goodbye. The whole way home you were smiling like an idiot, the events replaying in your mind.

════════════════

You ran your hand through your hair again before knocking on Amy’s door, you stand with your hand at your side, the other holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Amy answers the door, looking rather distressed. She doesn’t wait around and rushes back into the kitchen. You follow her, extremely concerned.

“Ames? Is everything okay?” You set the flowers down and look around the kitchen, there were pots everywhere things clearly went wrong.

“No. I ruined dinner, God I’m so sorry. I wanted this to be perfect and now it’s unsolvable.” She sighs, eyes prickling with tears.

“It can’t be that bad? Maybe we can salvage what’s not ruined?” You say, trying to seem optimistic.

“Oh it’s definitely not salvageable.” Amy picks up a wooden spoon inside a pot, except out can the spoon and a block of what you assumed to previously have been sauce.

“…oh, well that’s only sauce?”

Amy opens the oven which fills the entire room with black smoke, you immediately open the window and she gets a towel to blow the smoke away. You bite your lip to stifle your laugh but making eye contact with Amy makes the both of you burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry, this is truly not how I excepted things to pan out.” Amy sighs, before you could reply she was crying.

Immediately you rushed to her side and pulled her into a tight hug, gently you run a hand up and down her back to sooth her. You felt sorry for her, it was clear she put a lot of effort into this just for it to not work out.

“This doesn’t have to mean our entire night is ruined. Why don’t you go get ready, I’ll clean up in here. Take your time we’re in no rush.”

Amy pulled back to look at you, you wiped the tears from her eyes and she softly smiled. “Are you sure? We don’t have to, we can reschedule or something.”

“No come on, I’m already here.”

“Okay, but really you don’t have to clean up. I’ll do that, it’s not your mess.”

“Ames. I don’t care about cleaning the mess. Just get ready, I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to.”

Amy went to get ready and you cleaned the kitchen, as you were putting away the final dish she walked into the kitchen. She was wearing a sheer blue and black flowered blouse with a pencil skirt. You knew you were staring but you couldn’t help it, she looked so beautiful, so effortlessly radiant.

“Ames,” you exhaled. “You look gorgeous.”

She blushed as she walked over to you and wrapped her arms around your neck, your hands naturally rested at her waist. Your foreheads pressed together until she moved her lips onto yours, you pulled her closer and the kiss intensified. When you pulled away you both were blushing.

“Wait, I got lipstick on you.” Amy giggle and wiped her lipstick from your upper lip.

You swear you could have melted under her touch right there, but you knew you needed to collect yourself. You cleared your throat and Amy laughed. The two of you headed to the restaurant and got seated in a booth.

“Again I’m sorry, I had planned for a really nice meal and something more fun than a boring very ordinary restaurant.”

“No, it’s fine. This is still nice, besides it doesn’t matter what we do, we’re together that’s plenty fun.”

“Look at you being all sappy and motivational. I didn’t take you for the type.” Amy teased.

“I’m not usually, guess you bring it out in me.” You winked.

Amy just playfully rolled her eyes in response. The whole date may have started chaotically and completely gone to shit, but in the end you had a better time than you’d ever have dreamed of. Being with Amy truly was a thrill, the addition of knowing she liked you only emphasised that.

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling For the Devil [Part seventy-nine: "The Hell Day"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You stay home from work because you're having a terrible day on your period.

Or

Matt stops by for a surprise visit and offers you comfort in more ways than one.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 2.9k

a/n: This is a little hurt/comfort fic while Reader is on her worst day of her period. And there's some Sweet Matty comforting Reader and some moving in discussions! Our next installment is titled "The Revisitation of Moving In" that I'll hopefully be sharing later this week! You can find the entire list of installments for this series on tumblr here.

Tag List: @stilldreaming666 @mattkinsella @ninacoette @murdocksclient @madscamp02 @1988-fiend @lina-mar @pinkratts @schneeflocky (I apologize if I missed someone or if any of these tags didn't work! Some of you might have search settings turned off on your account so I can't actually tag you!)

Curled up on your couch absently watching the food channel, your arms were wrapped around your abdomen as you groaned in misery. Your whole body ached, especially your lower back, and you'd been feeling nauseous since early this morning when you'd woken up. You'd had a headache for the past five hours that just wouldn't go away no matter how much water you drank or ibuprofen you took. 

You were on day two of your period–also known as Hell Day. Since it was Friday and you'd felt like death, having woken up long before your alarm had gone off and been unable to fall back asleep because your cramps were just that painful, you'd called off work. Last night had been one of those rare nights that Matt hadn't stopped by as Daredevil because he'd stayed home working on a case, so you'd thankfully not had to wake up to him witnessing how miserable you were. 

While you'd avoided Matt over that first period week you'd gotten months ago, right after the two of you had gotten together, you hadn't continued that trend for most of the periods that followed after. Though admittedly you had often managed to find a way to avoid him one way or another on Period Hell Day for months now, so he'd yet to encounter you on the absolute worst day of your period. Which you'd been grateful for, because generally you were more of an emotional mess than usual, and that's exactly how you'd felt today, as if you were one random, small thing away from crying. Again .

A knock at your apartment door drew your eye towards it, a deep frown settling onto your face. There could only be one person who would be here knocking on your door at almost seven on a Friday night. You closed your eyes, rolling over and burying your face in the pillow you'd been lying on. Another groan left you yet again. 

"I don’t feel good tonight, Matt," you grumbled into the pillow. “Leave me to my misery.”

"You and I both know that I'm not going to do that," Matt's distinctive voice came from the other side of the door. “Let me in, sweetheart.”

“I don’t want you to see me like this,” you protested, face still buried in the pillow.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m blind,” he quipped back, amusement clear in his tone.

“ Matt ,” you whined.

You heard the clear rumble of his chuckle outside of your door, the sound of it drawing your face from its hiding place. It had been yesterday afternoon since you last saw him for lunch and you certainly had missed him–despite how pathetic it was to admit because it had barely been over twenty-four hours.

"I brought mint ice cream?" Matt called hopefully through the door. “And it’s uh, probably going to melt on me if you leave me out here.”

“Why didn’t you lead with that?” you called back.

You pushed yourself upright on the couch with a grimace, your cramps somehow feeling worse now that you weren’t curled in the fetal position. 

“Because I sort of thought my girlfriend would be happy for some company and comfort tonight?” he responded. "Didn't expect that I'd need to bribe her to answer the door."

Eyes narrowing, you rose to your feet, shuffling your way to your apartment door. Your right hand was pressed to your bloated abdomen like it was going to keep your insides from somehow falling out of you while you walked. Quickly unlocking your door with your left hand, you swung it open to reveal Matt’s handsome and smiling face. He held up the container of mint ice cream he had in fact brought over in one of his hands. 

“What the hell does that mean?” you asked him suspiciously, eyes still narrowed as you ignored the ice cream. “Why would you think I want company and comfort tonight?”

Matt’s smile immediately fell, his dark brows drawing together, a crease forming between them. His head slowly shifted to the side as he pursed his lips. There was a long moment that he stood in your doorway looking confused as he remained silent.

“Because you’re…on your period?” he eventually answered carefully. “And I know you usually don’t feel well?”

“How do you know I’m on my period?” you questioned him.

Matt’s head tilted further to the side, his dark brows almost entirely disappearing behind the red lenses of his glasses now. “This…this feels like a trick question,” he said slowly. “I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to answer that.”

You shook your head quickly, hugging both arms over your stomach as if that would somehow block Matt’s heightened senses from picking up on anything from your body. “No, ew, definitely don’t answer that ,” you agreed. “I meant I haven’t seen you today, how would you know?”

“I saw you yesterday, sweetheart,” he pointed out. 

“But I hadn’t told you I was on it because I just had–” you stopped, eyes going wide when Matt’s expression turned sheepish. “Oh my God , you could still tell ?” When he opened his mouth you immediately shook your head again, throwing a hand up from your stomach to stop him. “No, please do not actually answer that.”

“It’s not a big deal, sweetheart,” he said gently.

“Says you !” you shot back.

“So you’re just going to leave me to let this mint ice cream melt all over my hands in your hall then?” he asked.

“Obviously not,” you said, stepping aside.

Matt took a slow, careful step into your apartment, almost as if he was wary that you really didn’t want him here. Your shoulders sagged at the sight, shutting the door after him.

“Sorry, I’m a hormonal mess,” you apologized. “I feel horrible and I wasn’t expecting you to stop by tonight and now I’m just overthinking your senses. Again .”

You accepted the ice cream from Matt, turning and bringing it to the kitchen to keep in your freezer for now. Behind you, you heard Matt slipping out of his shoes.

“You know you really don’t need to do that,” he told you. “Overthinking my senses about things.”

“Sort of hard not to do,” you mumbled. “Overthinking is sort of my thing.”

You made your way back towards the living room where Matt was pulling his dark glasses from his face. His eyes were tracking your movement as he leaned over to set the glasses onto your coffee table, the smile growing on his lips as you made your way towards him.

“If you’re ever actually going to move in with me,” he said, “you’re kind of going to have your period around me, sweetheart. And you know it doesn’t bother me. I’ve told you that a hundred times now.”

Sighing dramatically, you once again hugged your arms across your bloated stomach as you came to a stop in front of him. “Try getting my overthinking mind to believe you,” you replied.

He chuckled lightly, his hands reaching out and landing on your shoulders. He gave them an affectionate squeeze that drew a small smile onto your face.

“I have been trying that for awhile now,” he pointed out. “Clearly it’s not an easy feat to accomplish.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “because all I can think about are the gross things you’re picking up on when I’m like this. And I’m…” you trailed off, lips clamping together before you could admit what was on your mind.

Matt’s face shifted to something serious instantly, clearly sensing your hesitation. His eyes were scanning around your face curiously. “You’re what?” he prompted.

Chewing your lip, you gazed down at your coffee table. Could you really verbalize something so gross and ridiculous to Matt? The last thing you felt like doing right now was discussing your period with the man you wanted to still find you attractive when you weren’t bleeding in a few more days.

“Hey,” he said, his tone softer as he gripped your shoulders a little tighter, “you can tell me anything. What’s bothering you?”

“It’s just…if I move in with you, you’re right,” you admitted quietly. “I’ll be having my period around you. Like all the time.”

“Yes,” Matt agreed. “I am aware that it's a monthly occurrence. And I don’t have a problem with that.”

“But like…” you continued, your eyes locked on your coffee table because you could not look at him, “that means I’ll, you know, be…disposing of period-related things. At your place. All the time."

Matt let out an amused snort that quickly drew your eyes to his face. He bit his bottom lip, shaking his head quickly.

“Sorry, sorry, I really don’t mean to laugh,” he said immediately. “I’m not–not trying to make light of your feelings, but sweetheart, it’s just blood. I bring enough blood home on a near nightly basis. I don’t care. It doesn't bother me. And for the record, it would be our place."

“But you have the nose of a bloodhound–”

“Better, actually,” he cut in.

“Matt!” you shrieked, to which he only chuckled again. “That’s not helping!”

"You're right, I'm sorry," he said, the grin still on his face. "Just trying to lighten the mood."

You shifted awkwardly on your feet before him, other anxious thoughts about living with Matt crossing your mind. As if sensing that, his hands slid down your shoulders, making their way down your arms until they wrapped around your own hands. 

"Hey, let's sit," he suggested gently. 

Matt led you back towards your couch, the pair of you settling down onto the cushions beside each other. He kept his hold on your hands, that serious expression back on his face as he gazed at you. 

"What's on your mind, sweetheart?" he asked. "Tell me."

"I just–just worry about all the things you're going to pick up on if I move in with you," you confessed. "Things I'm not aware of because of your heightened senses."

Matt murmured your name, the sound drawing your eyes up to his face. Nervously you chewed your lip, Matt's thumbs rubbing lightly over the backs of your hands. 

"You've spent so much time with me already, sweetheart," he pointed out. "Staying the night at my place or me staying here. And I'm still here not grossed out by you." One corner of his lips curled upwards as he added, "And I lived with Fog during college for years . Share an office with him almost every day of the week now. You're not going to gross me out or whatever you're afraid of."

"Well Foggy isn't hoping you're still attracted to him at the end of the day," you blurted. 

Matt's mouth twisted into a bigger grin in response. "Well that would mean I'd have to be attracted to Fog at the beginning of the day," he teased.

You sighed deeply, not wanting his jokes right now. Quickly picking up on that, Matt sent you an apologetic smile. 

"I'm serious, Matt," you admitted awkwardly. "If we live together, you'll be around me all the time. Every bad day I have and every morning of my gross morning breath. And every period where I'm super gross, like right now. And every time–"

"Hey," Matt cut you off firmly, squeezing your hands. "I want every moment with you, sweetheart. All of it. The good and the bad. I want you with me. And you are not super gross right now," he stated sharply. "You never are. Nothing is going to make me love you or want you any less."

You couldn't help the sting of tears that pricked at your eyes or the way your lips had begun to tremble as Matt's words hit you hard. His brows drew together on his forehead as he noticed your body’s reaction. 

"Sweetheart?" he asked, his eyes softening as they focused near your own. "Why're you crying?"

Tears had already quickly begun falling down your cheeks in hot, wet steaks. You sniffled loudly, fighting to keep your voice as even as you could when you spoke. 

"Because I'm hormonal as fuck, Matt," you sobbed. "And you're so fucking charming and sweet. And I love you." You slipped a hand out of his hold as you gestured behind you towards your kitchen. "And you brought me my favorite ice cream on my worst damn day of the month!"

His brows knitted further together, the crease between them deepening on his face. The corner of his mouth twitched downwards. "Those are all–all good things though," he pointed out carefully. 

"I know!" you agreed, your voice cracking. 

His head tilted to the side as he studied you for a moment. "So you're…happy?" he clarified.

"Yes!" you exclaimed. "I'm incredibly hormonal and you're being really great and it's making me cry! But I also cried watching House Hunters earlier, too." 

He laughed lightly, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you. One of his large hands began soothingly running up and down your back as you buried your face into his dress shirt. You quickly soaked the material with your tears as your arms wrapped around him in return, balling the material in your fists. That familiar scent of him surrounded you and you buried your nose further into his shirt. A moment later you felt him pressing a kiss into your hair.

"I love you, Matty," you said into his chest. 

"I love you, too, sweetheart,” he murmured. “How about I get changed and I come cuddle you on the couch?" he offered. "I can give you a back massage if you lay on me. I can hear how sore your back is."

"You've had a long week yourself," you replied, sniffling again. "Both in and out of the office. I'm not going to ask you to do that."

"Well you're not," he pointed out. "I'm offering. Here, let me up."

Reluctantly you released your hold of him, Matt rising up from the couch. He shot you a smile, murmuring he'd be right back back before you watched him disappear down your hall to your bedroom. 

With a sigh you settled back onto your couch, your eyes focusing back on the food channel. It was a few minutes before Matt returned no longer in his work attire. Instead he padded down your hallway barefoot in a pair of gray sweatpants with a tee-shirt in one hand. 

"Shirt or no shirt?" he asked, stopping before you on the other side of the coffee table. 

Your lips parted in surprise as your eyes raked over his bare torso, every defined inch of him on clear display in your living room. Matt grinned devilishly at you, tossing his shirt onto the coffee table before he made his way back to you. 

"That answered my question," he said, amused.

He sat down on the couch, drawing his feet up as he maneuvered behind you. And then he opened his arms to you, waving you over with a smile. 

"Come here, sweetie," he whispered. "Let me help you feel better."

You gradually climbed up on top of him, nestling your head just below his chin as your legs rested between his on your couch. While your right hand slid up to grasp his shoulder, your left hand landed along his chest beside your face, fingers absently running along his bare, warm skin that felt amazing against your bloated abdomen. Matt’s own hands settled onto your lower back, his palms beginning to press in the exact right spot against your aching muscles. It was only a matter of seconds before your eyes were closing and you were sighing in relief and contentment. 

“You’re really, really good at that,” you whispered, relaxing into him beneath you.

“Sort of easy when I can hear your body that well,” he replied gently.

“And that made it weird,” you pointed out.

Beneath you, Matt let out a rumbling laugh that had you bouncing along him with the movement, which in turn had you giggling. Burying your face into his chest as you laughed, you felt his hands pause their movement to hold you tight to him, his nose nuzzling into your hair as his warm chuckle filled your ears. When both your laughter subsided, Matt placed a kiss into your hair before his hands resumed their movement on your back. You gradually eased back into him beneath you, your eyelids dropping. 

“You know,” Matt began, his tone catching your attention instantly, “I hear orgasms help relieve cramps.”

Your eyes instantly grew wide, your jaw dropping in response to what he’d just suggested. There was a rumble of laughter beneath you again as you raised your head from his chest, staring down at him in shock.

“Matthew!” you shrieked.

His eyes crinkled at the corners, his smile growing wider. “Oh that one warranted my full name, did it?” he teased.

Heat crept its way up your cheeks as you buried your face back into his chest. “Oh my God ,” you groaned, voice muffled.

“I’m just letting you know that I am more than happy to help,” he told you, amusement in his voice. “Just so you know for the future.”

“I am officially embarrassed and uncomfortable,” you mumbled, still hiding your heated face against him.

“I strongly believe that one day you’ll take me up on that,” he mused, his hands still working the muscles of your aching lower back. 

“Doubt it,” you disagreed.

He chuckled yet again, his hands managing to relax you back down from the topic of conversation. Slowly you shifted until your cheek was once again resting along his chest.

“Mmm,” Matt hummed out. “Guess we’ll see who’s right eventually.”

[freeuselandonorris]

☰ for Monday, with the “who did this to you” trope? Love your fics <33

(from the fic ask game)

HI ANON i am so sorry this has taken me a million years to answer, i started weirdly overthinking it??

my understanding of the ‘who did this to you?’ trope is it’s very hurt/comfort-centric, which is not a genre i write very often (hence probably why i overthought this for so long lmao).

if i was to approach a remix of monday from this angle i think i’d like to do it from lando POV and explore more of why he’s so insecure and why it takes him so long to trust that oscar genuinely really likes him and isn’t just looking for a quick fuck to take the edge off. there’d be more of a focus on lando’s past relationships and in particular how he went from being a slightly nerdy kid (like, he looked twelve until he was about twenty) to suddenly being a millionaire heartthrob with a huge social media following. but he also self-describes as a simp (in the lando norris vs slang video) and clearly wants to be in a “real” relationship rather than just fucking about, so i’d look at what happened to him to make him so cautious with his heart.

proooobably this would end up with past dando or carlando? i have a mild aversion to carlos so i’d probably go for fuckboy daniel ngl.

i think it’d take oscar quite a long time to actually get round to asking lando what happened — partly because he’s got a bit of an attitude of “well, lando will tell me in his own time if it’s important to him” but also because there’s a bit of him that doesn’t really want to know, especially because he’s got a pretty good idea it involves another driver. he’d probably bring it up pretty idly, in the end — lando would make some veiled comment about how netflix would have creamed their collective pants if they’d known the half of it while oscar’s scrolling past DTS trying to find something to watch, and oscar would very casually… actually, y’know what.

Lando feels Oscar go still next to him and mentally kicks himself. Might’ve known Oscar wouldn’t let that one drop.

“So are you, like.” Oscar wets his lips and shifts on the bed, curling up so Lando’s tucked further into his chest. Lando presses himself back, drawing Oscar’s arm around him. “I dunno. Did something happen? With Dan.”

Lando closes his eyes, considers his options. It’s tempting to squirm back against Oscar’s body, press his arse into his crotch and slip Oscar’s hand under the hem of his T-shirt until he forgets the line of questioning, forgets he was saying anything at all. It’s mad, really, the way he responds: Lando only has to pull his shirt up, bite his lip a certain way, and he’ll have Oscar distracted and reaching for him, even now. It’s been months. Lando’s experienced it before, that first flush of desire when he can use his body to control how someone feels about him. It rarely lasts, though, once the novelty wears off.

Which is sort of the point.

He sighs, aware it sounds a bit huffy, and picks up his phone so he can flick through his notifications while he speaks. “I mean, I guess? It was just stupid, though.”

Oscar breathes behind him, slow and deliberate. He hums into Lando’s hair, strokes a thumb over the ticklish spot on Lando’s waist, the dip just above the ridge of muscle that delineates his hip.

Lando swipes through notifs from Discord, Instagram, iMessage, WhatsApp, Reddit, Sky Sport. Dismissing each without seeing it. He laughs, and it comes out all wrong, harsh in the back of his throat and defensive. God. Wet as fuck. “It was just — I mean, he was fucking miserable, you saw him. So I guess he just wanted a pick-me-up, y’know.”

“Right,” Oscar says, voice unreadable. He’s so fucking blank sometimes. Lando fights the urge to turn round and scrutinise his face, opens his emails instead and starts deleting anything that doesn’t look vital.

“He said,” Lando says, aiming to deliver it as a joke. “‘I’m straight, but I bet you suck dick like a girl anyway’. Like. What does that even mean?”

Oscar’s thumb stills, just for a moment, then resumes its slow path. “I know that’s offensive, but I can’t tell if it’s sexist or homophobic or both.”

Lando makes a disgruntled sound of agreement. “Yeah, well, whatever. It was — whatever. Wasn’t anything.”

“You said,” Oscar says mildly. “But I can see why you’d… Why it’d make you cautious.”

Lando sighs. Thinks of Luisa, showing him screenshots, her face streaked with tears. Watching the comments roll in, badly spelled threats he didn’t even bother reporting. The way Carlos never quite relaxed around him once people started tagging them in stupid ship videos. Googling how do you make someone sign an nda locked in an unfamiliar bathroom, mouth sour with vodka, head spinning. Waking up at 5am in lockdown, Max hyperventilating next to him. The girl from Raya he’d sent flowers to, trying to do the thing properly and be romantic, only to find she’d blocked him ten minutes after he got the Your package was successfully delivered email.

“It wasn’t him,” Lando says, locking his phone and putting it face down on the nightstand. He turns, tangling his legs between Oscar’s and leaning in to nip at his jaw, breathing in the familiar smell of Oscar’s basic aftershave. Oscar's arms tighten around him. His cheeks curve into a smile beneath Lando's mouth. “It doesn’t matter.”

[nasturtiumloom]

Loom, I’m on my knees asking for this one, I needa fic we’re the readers on her period and Rex comforts her by buying her fav snacks and watching some random shows while cuddlinggggg (Ligit just started mine, it’s the WORRRRRSSST😭😭😭)

wrote this as quickly as i could because i GET IT im also on my period and im ready to fuck but also jump off a cliff

PURE FLUFF!!!!! ☁︎

You sighed, curling up on the couch and wrapping a blanket tightly around yourself. Your period had started this morning, and the cramps were already making you feel miserable. The heating pad on your stomach wasn't helping much, and all you wanted was some comfort.

Just as you were about to close your eyes, the front door opened, and Rex walked in. He took one look at you and immediately knew what was going on.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked softly, coming over to sit beside you.

"Just cramps," you muttered, trying to smile but wincing instead.

Rex sat down next to you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "You know, I heard that doing a handstand can help with cramps. Want me to hold your legs?"

You gave him a flat look, not in the mood for jokes. "Really, Rex?"

He sighed, seeing that his attempt at humor wasn't working. "Okay, okay, no more jokes. Be right back."

You watched him leave, feeling a mix of frustration and curiosity. About twenty minutes later, the door opened again, and Rex walked in carrying several bags.

"What's all that?" you asked, sitting up slightly.

Rex smiled, setting the bags down on the coffee table. "Just some stuff I thought might help."

He began pulling out items: your favorite snacks—chocolate, chips, ice cream. He also had a few movies and a cozy blanket.

He wrapped the new blanket around you and tucked you in. He grabbed the remote and put on your favorite show without saying a word, knowing it would bring you some comfort.

As the show played, Rex pulled you closer, his warmth and the steady rhythm of his breathing comforting you. He gently rubbed your back, occasionally pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"You know," he murmured, "I read somewhere that cuddling can help with cramps."

You chuckled softly. "Yeah? Where'd you read that?"

"Some magazine," he said with a grin. "But it seems to be working, right?"

"It is," you admitted, feeling the tension in your body slowly melt away.

Rex continued to hold you, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back. Every now and then, he'd feed you a piece of chocolate or a chip, making you smile despite the discomfort.

"You're too good to me," you said quietly, looking up at him.

He smiled down at you, his eyes full of affection. "You deserve it, baby. Plus, I like taking care of you."

You leaned up to kiss him, feeling grateful for his presence. As the show continued, you let yourself relax, knowing that no matter how bad things got, Rex would always be there to comfort you.

And in that moment, surrounded by snacks and the sound of your favorite show, you felt a little bit better.

gosh anyone named rex splode hmu plz ( ¬‎ ࡇ,¬ )

[somewhereincairparavel]

omg i have to ask platonic duo for my fave underrated friendship hazel and piper 😊 maybe piper takes her to a modern mall and hazel is just in awe 🤔

“Girls day out!”

- Platonic! Piper McLean × Hazel Levesque

Author's note: ugh this is so creative what. You're a genius cyn. Hazel and Piper my underrated pookie duo. Also, this turned out, much longer than I expected damn. Also can I just say that this fic reminds me so much of Max and eleven from stranger things?

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"How'd you like this?" Hazel asked as she held up an old looking grey cardigan. Piper rolled eyes. Typical Hazel who loves to dress up like a grandma from the 40's. (Well, technically speaking, she was a grandma from the 40's, but that's like, besides the point).

Piper never cared much about dressing up, but when your mom's the goddess of fashion, you can't help but pick up a few things here and there."I think it's time you changed style, Hazelnut". Hazel gave her a pointed look.

"Don't call me that. Unless you want me to call you princess pretty pants, yknow daughter of Aphrodite and all" Hazel said smugly.

Don't you dare." Piper glared as she threw one of the coat hangers at her, which Hazel narrowly missed. "Don't call me hazelnut then!"

"Fair enough. We have a deal" Hazel turned her gaze miserably towards her grey cardigan. Piper followed her gaze, and sighed. "Don't worry, I'll help you find your new style, you're lucky you have the daughter of the fashion goddess to help you out" she winked. Piper led Hazel towards the the floral aisle. Hazel's mouth was gaping, there were so many exotic looking clothes of so many colours, they certainly didn't have such a rainbow-esque wardrobe in the 40's. "Just look through these piles of dresses, I have a feeling floral is your pattern" Piper adviced.

Hazel nodded as she skimmed through the heaps of clothes lazily draped in the hanger. She tried dress after dress, most of them ranging from bad to meh. Until she came across a beautiful pink floral glowy skirt. She knew it was the one, the moment she saw piper's beaming gaze. "Oh my gods Hazel, I can practically feel my mother frolicking in approval, this is your dress. It brings out your curls!" Piper exclaimed bobbing up and down. Hazel smiled in contentment as she scanned herself in the mirror, she usually felt insecure of her style, they were all just greys and browns, they matched her gloomy mood, but with Piper's help, she found the clothes she felt happy and comfortable in.

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As they paid, Piper pulled Hazel towards the arcade, "You CANNOT go to the mall and NOT play in the arcade!" Hazel blinked. "What's an arcade? Nico talks about it a lot, Is it some kind of war competition?" Piper stared at her in shock. "Sometimes, I seriously forget that you don't know this stuff". She went to the the VR controls, and made Hazel sit on one of those fluffy chairs. The lady on the counter set up the VR system on her

"Is this your first time on the VR system, Darling?" The lady asked.

"Yes. How'd you know that?" Hazel replied quickly

"I can tell by the way you're squirming, don't worry, love, this is completely fun and painless"

(Why does she sound like a doctor?)

Piper gave Hazel a reassuring look, before the VR system had begun, hazel was slightly gliding in her chair, it was a little silly for Piper to watch, but she hoped hazel was having a good time. 10 minutes laterHazel stood up from her chair, and almost slipped, but caught herself.

"Sooo?" Piper asked, giving her a look of anticipation. Hazel beamed. "It was AWESOME! I mean, it was a little woozy at first but then, I felt like I was in a rollercoaster, but then I saw like these weird dinasours interrupting my ride? It felt so rea-"

Piper laughed lightly listening to her rambling like a little kid. It dawned on her how how much of her childhood Hazel had lost. This stuff was technically enjoyed when you were 7 years old, but Piper was determined to make this day memorable for her.

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"Ugh. Why won't this thing fucking jam!" Piper cursed as she racked the gumball machine. Hazel winced, possibly at her use of the word "fuck"

"Uhm Piper, what if the glass breaks? Can't we just get someone to do it for us?" Hazel asked, nervously looking around to see if anyone is watching.

"Chillax. You have the charmspeaker with you, I'll just charmspeak us out of trouble in case anything happens." Piper struggled and managed to break the glass. All colours of gumballs shot out of the the metal.

"HEY! YOU! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE UPTO?!" One of the workers yelled pointing to them. Hazel gave Piper an "I told you so!" Look. Piper sighed, and walked towards him. "Hey, you just forgot that it was me who broke the glass, according to you, the glass broke on its own, isn't that right?" The man's eyes glazed over as he muttered, "Y-yes. Yes the gumball machine broke due to external forces. You both are free to go and take as many gumball as you wish" Piper winked at Hazel as she collected a few gumballs and some for Hazel.

"Pipes, this feels wrong.." Hazel said as she took the gumballs and popped one in her mouth hesitantly.

"It's not like we do this everyday right? Hazel, we fight monsters everyday, we dont ever get to have fun like this, besides It's the gumball machine's fault for not working well like it should be" Piper huffed stashing 3 gumbals into her mouth. "And now, we get cotton candy-"

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All in all, the day ended with both of them being chased by a monster who was disguised as a cotton candy supplier, but hey? It was worth it.

(Yes, Piper still smuggled some cotton candy for Hazel and herself, og queen fr)

[naturesapphic]

i keep thinking about natasha coming home from a mission really bruised and not in a good mental state and the reader just taking care of her, bathing her and everything and it’s all fluffy and cute in the end. i love natasha so much i need help.

“I’ll always take care of you”

Natasha romanoff x fem!reader

Warnings: wounds/injury’s, comfort fic :)

I was up cleaning around the house, waiting for nat to arrive from her two week mission. Knowing her, she will be exhausted and wanting to make up for loss time while she was away. She hates being gone so long, not knowing if i’m okay or not, even when I live in the avengers tower with her and the others, she still worries.

That’s just Natasha. Always very protective and always worried if something will happen. Sometimes it can be a little too much but you know she means well and that she just wants you to be okay.

Hearing the front door slam loudly and hearing raspy grumbles, which you guess is from your red headed ex assassin girlfriend. She came in the living room while you were finishing cleaning up. She looked at you with soft and tired eyes. You cooed at her softly and walked over as you engulfed her in your arms.

You may be very petite in size but nat doesn’t care, as long as she can feel you close, that’s all that matters to her. She picked you up in her strong arms and hid her face into your chest. You ran your fingers through her messy and dirty red braid she always has up for missions.

She started walking up the stairs to y’all’s shared bedroom. She sat you down softly on the bed and started taking off her dirty, black suit to get in the bath but was failing miserably.

You pouted at her and stood up to help her. She sighs in defeat as she gives up and lets you take control. You lead her into the bathroom and instructed her to sit on the toilet, while you started to get the bath ready. Slowly, you helped your girlfriend into the bath and she gave you a small smile in thanks.

Slowly, you started cleaning Natasha’s bruised, beat up body very carefully. She’s already in pain emotionally and mentally, so you want her to know that you will always be here to take care of her. After cleaning her body, you started helping her wash her hair. She told you that she wanted to stay in longer by herself so she can think. You agreed and told her to get out when she’s ready.

You headed back to the bedroom and picked out your favorite sweatshirt and some shorts since nat loves wearing your clothes. You headed to the drier and put them in so when she got out she can have some warm clothes to put on. Walking back into the bedroom to fix the bed to get ready for nat since she will be extra clingy tonight.

~ a few moments later~

I heard the bathroom door open and I see nat wrapped up in a towel looking fragile. I jogged out of the room and received her warm clothes. I handed them to her and she gave me a small smile back. I turned around to give her some privacy while she changes into her clothes. She chuckles and shakes her head at me because even though we have been together for five years, I will always give her her privacy and respect.

She let out a small “okay” and I turned around seeing her fully dressed. “Cuddles and a movie?” I asked her with a big smile on my face. She let out a small smirk saying, “only if it’s the James Bond movies”. “Why of course. What else would you recommend”. You said as you let out a giggle to which nat smiled at.

Y’all get in the bed and nat immediately lays on top of you and curls into a little ball. You smiled widely at how adorable she was being and hugged her to which she was getting squished in your hold. She let out a chuckle and you let go of her a little so she can breath. You kissed her head softly and she kissed your neck back. “I love you natty” you say softly to her. “I love you more y/n/n”.

A/n: I hope this was okay! I really want to try and post more since school is over for me. I have so much in my drafts that I need to finish and put out sofkrofoe

But I hope y’all enjoyed and remember to rest and stay hydrated! :)

[diantheia]

Doorstober day 4: Snare! Fic category: Gen. Summary: A bunch of injured Snares go looking for a snuggle buddy. Word count: 536

After a long day of lying about, waiting for humans to stand on them, there was only one thing left to do: lie about and not be stepped on. 

A small group of downtrodden and miserable Snares lay in the middle of a greenhouse room. These Snares in particular have been having some awful luck as of late; every human that reaches the greenhouse seems to be near magnetised to their location! So many feet have fallen on their tiny heads! So many boo-boos for them to nurse! They’ve been struck by a terrible case of the big sad!

And the only cure for the big sad is to find a big entity to snuggle up to.

The first entity they came upon was Dupe, who had only recently decided to start setting up in the greenhouse. They were interrupted from… whatever they were doing (it’s none of your business!) by the sound of scraping at their door. With a loud growl, they fling it open to see the small horde of tiny plants.

“What do you lot want!?” snapped the irritable entity. The Snares all squeaked pitifully at the creature, hoping to pull at its heartstrings. There were none to pull at. “I’m not a charity case, get out!” Dupe shouts, slamming the door on the Snares. They turn to leave quickly, but not before Dupe opens the door again and grabs one particularly small and depressed looking Snare. “Not you, you can stay” And then the door slammed shut once more. At least one Snare was able to find a snuggle buddy.

They next saw Eyes, and Eyes saw them, waddling up to the eyeball mass in their pathetic shamble.

“We do apologise, little Snares,” Eyes said with great sadness. “But we do not think our body is capable of providing for you the comfort that you desire”

The Snares acknowledge this sadly, moving on once more.

They next came upon Screech, an entity who, whilst still bigger than the Snares themselves, was quite small.

“Snuggles? I love snuggles!” Screech exclaimed. After a hard day of chomping down on humans, one could only want to curl up somewhere cosy with some good company. There was just a slight issue though… “Oh, but I don’t think I have enough tentacles for all of you…”

First come, first serve; Screech snatched up two of the Snares, That left the rest to search for an entity they could snuggle with.

At last! They found the one entity they could always count on for their snuggles! The one, the only, their supreme overlord Rush! The small gaggle of Snares rushed (ha ha) over to the entity quickly, squeaking joyfully at the sight of it.

“Hmm, what do you lot want?” Rush asked, already getting settled down for sleep themselves. A cacophony of more squeaks emitted from the plant creatures. “Snuggles? You lot do look hurt… but have you been good enough to snuggle with me?” Rush teased. The Snares frantically squeak some more, pleading for the comfort that they were seeking. “Oh, alright then…” Rush easily concedes, allowing the little creatures to press right up against it.

By morning, Rush had somehow acquired a few dozen more Snares.