#dabs groggily

[chaoticelectron]

Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint will be the death of me. I think every escapist Reader is like Dokja and they'd rather die to protect the stories they love than to stop loving the stories. We all are Dok-ja and we imagine stories to reality. Every book is written for a person who'll read it. Without a reader a book does not exist.

This was a masterpiece with perfectly aligned time-loops, myth and fable elements and the will of all readers.

Spoiler ahead

Get yourself friends who will continue to write stories for you every day for 10 years until they die so you can live or those who'd repeat thousands of lives to meet you and you who'd be willing to be hated so that people you love can be people who are happy. This is the pain of a reader?

[chaoticelectron]

Everyday I learn sthg new

https://twitter.com/archeometrie/status/1170031822614474752?s=12

[chloeangelbaby]

Dr Rafe Cameron

Crybaby! Reader x Rafe Cameron

———————————˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊————————————

The clock on the bedside table glowed dimly, the numbers reading 3:17 AM. Rafe stirred awake, his eyes cracking open to the faint light of the moon filtering through the curtains. His hand instinctively reached out, brushing against soft, warm skin.

Too warm.

“Dolly?” he murmured groggily, blinking down at her.

Reader was tucked against his side, her body pressed close to his. Her little pink pajamas were clinging to her, damp with sweat. Her hair was stuck to her forehead in messy, fevered strands, and her face was flushed even in the dark. A soft, wheezy cough escaped her lips as she shifted slightly, nuzzling closer to him in her sleep.

Rafe’s chest tightened with worry as he sat up slightly, brushing his hand across her forehead. She was burning up.

“Baby…” he whispered, his voice soft and coaxing, his hand moving to gently shake her shoulder.

She stirred with a tiny whimper, her heavy eyes fluttering open. “Rafe?” she mumbled, her voice hoarse and small.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, cupping her cheek. “You’re burning up, Dolly. Why didn’t you wake me?”

She sniffled, her eyes glassy as she looked up at him. “Didn’t wanna bother you,” she whispered, her voice breaking at the end.

“Bother me? Babe, you’re literally sweating through your pajamas,” Rafe said, his tone soft but firm. He reached for the blanket tangled around her legs and peeled it back. “No wonder you’re roasting—you’re all bundled up like a burrito.”

“I was cold earlier,” she mumbled, her lower lip wobbling slightly as her body started to shiver now that the blanket was gone.

Rafe sighed, leaning down to press a kiss to her clammy forehead. “Stay here,” he murmured, slipping out of bed and heading to the bathroom.

She whimpered in protest, her hand reaching out toward him. “Don’t leave…”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assured her, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it with cool water before returning to her side.

He sat down and carefully pressed the cloth to her forehead, dabbing away the sweat clinging to her skin. Her eyes fluttered closed, a soft sigh escaping her lips as the coolness soothed her fevered skin.

“Better?” he asked quietly.

She nodded weakly, her hands clutching at the hem of her damp pajama top. “I feel gross,” she whispered, her voice breaking again.

Rafe chuckled softly, brushing her hair back from her face. “You’re still the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” he teased, earning a faint pout from her.

“Not funny,” she muttered, her lips trembling as her emotions threatened to spill over.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Rafe said quickly, leaning closer and tilting her chin up to meet his eyes. “We’ll get you cleaned up, okay? Let’s change you into something dry, and I’ll grab you some water.”

She nodded again, sniffling as he helped her out of her sticky pajamas and into one of his old t-shirts, the fabric soft and cool against her overheated skin. He tucked her back into bed with just the sheet, making sure not to let her overheat again.

———————————˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊————————————

When he returned with a glass of water, she was already half-asleep, her hand resting on the spot where he had been moments ago. He slid back into bed, pulling her gently into his arms.

“You’re not allowed to feel like this and not wake me up,” he murmured, his voice low as he pressed a kiss to her temple. “I don’t care if it’s two in the afternoon or three in the morning, Dolly. You tell me.”

“Okay,” she mumbled sleepily, her head resting against his chest.

Rafe stayed awake long after she fell back into a deep sleep, his hand rubbing slow circles on her back. If she was going to keep him on his toes like this, he’d gladly stay up all night just to make sure she was okay.

[ninguitar]

꣑ৎ　────　𝓓O YOU LIKE ME , JYC 　　　　　and i'd love to make you mine 𓈒𓈒

───﹙🪷﹚𝓢. ｡｡　in which you seek solace in your best friend's bedroom after getting hurt while riding your skateboard. or yoonchae being your own personal nurse and tending to your wounds.

𝓹airing. jeong yoonchae x skater f!r 𝓰enre. fluff wc. 1.3k+ notes. haii quick fic out b4 i leave to study fr finals ^_^ sorry if ts is ass tho 🙁 (MASTERLIST)

now playing ⋆ do you like me by daniel caesar

THE CLOCK STRUCK 4:54 PM, your skateboard clutched in your arms, as you swing your backpack over your shoulder. you place your board onto the ground, hopping onto it with ease, as you skate to your best friend's house. in all honesty, you were glad that your best friend, yoonchae, had dance practice today. usually, she was nagging you on your clumsiness, berating you practically every week whenever you'd come by her house, new bruises and scratches adorning your body. and today was no different; you were once again leaning against yoonchae's bedroom window, faintly tapping against the glass.

the taste of blood lingered on your lips, the metallic scent practically distinct, and your knees burning. you groggily continued to tap against her window, hoping the korean girl would draw open the curtains. and luckily for you, the curtains vanish, as it leaves you with the sight of an exasperated yoonchae, her eyebrows knitted together. she cracks open the window, while a shit-eating grin curbs your lips, and the korean girl tries to suppress a smile at your mannerisms; as much as she hated how clumsy you were, you were her best friend, and she couldn't help but find you cute to be good company.

you climb through her window, immediately discarding your shoes off onto the carpet. now that you were in full-view for yoonchae to stare at, and her eyes flicker around your body, noticing the gash on your arm and the tiny cuts scattered around your hands. a sigh drifts from her throat, her lips twisting into a frown—great, she had to deal with you again. concerns washes over her face, as she mutters, "really? again, are you serious?" frustration etched in her tone.

"sue me, i just wanted to skate 'n have fun," you shrug sarcastically, throwing her a familiar grin. and in return, yoonchae rolls her eyes, gently pushing you onto her bed, as she brings her hands to your arms, her fingertips brushing over your gash and cuts softly. she immediately turns to her desk drawers, keeping a small kit of ointments and bandages, in case you'd show up again. alongside that, she gathers a small cloth, a bottle of peroxide, and scissors, shuffling to plop them onto her bed.

"be more careful next time, okay?" and she utters it like you weren't going to be back in her bedroom, somehow injured again, in another week or two; it became a routine, and yoonchae couldn't help but find them endearing—the way you'd immediately run to her for help. yoonchae cautiously drenched the cloth with peroxide, as she swings back to face you, beginning to dab the now-drenched cloth over the freshly opened gash on your arm. you wince slightly at the sharp stings from the cloth, your other hand resting on her shoulder, squeezing it every few seconds.

your eyes trail around her room mindlessly, "how was practice today? i'm sure you're holding up well—you're like, amazing at what you do or whatever," you blurt out, trying to lighten the mood. the girl's eyes droop down to meet your gaze, raising her eyebrow, before chuckling, nodding her head. "it was good, the same per-usual," the corners of her lips quirking up, as she intently applied ointment on your cuts, her touch gentle and deliberate.

shaking her head, she exhales exasperatedly, "just, stay still for me, yn." your lips jut into a pout, before obliging, sitting still, as your eyes trace her gaze, trying to decipher her expressions. her hands cup your face, making heat curl at your cheeks, and with a dab of ointment, she lightly applies it to your face.

"how stupid do you have to be to fall on your ass every week?" yoonchae scolds, nudging your shoulder playfully, before her fingertips dance along your arm, tending to the same cuts that stain your arms as extra measure. you shake your head, chuckling, "stupid enough to always be sneakin' in through your window." a grin plays on your face, before the korean girl's expression distorts into a scowl, scoffing, "whatever, loser."

and really, the mere thought of you getting hurt, or even lightly getting scratched makes yoonchae's heart twist into knots, and she looks at you playfully, "maybe i should buy you a kid's helmet or something—that way you stop bothering me." and in return, you look at her incredulously, frantically shaking your head, "c'mon! helmets are boring, yoonchip." the nickname rolls off your tongue smoothly, and the korean girl's heart stutters. a soft smile lays on your lips before you realize it.

and it was only then that you realize the close proximity between you two, while yoonchae was far too engrossed in wrapping your arm in bandages, securing the end using a few pins. here she was, the girl of your dreams practically unaware of the effect she had on you. god. before you could utter out words that you know you'd regret saying, you bite your tongue, letting yourself sink into an endless void. you knew that, the only reason you were far more clumsier these past few weeks while skating, was to visit yoonchae, and it felt fucked that no matter how much times you have, you still couldn't pour your heart out to her.

yoonchae meekly pulls away for a second to inspect your face for any more wounds, her gaze concerned and soft. your heart swells at her tender touch, and really, her in general, as your eyes droop down, avoiding her gaze. the korean girl smiles to herself, her hands running through your hair, "can't believe my best friend is a clumsy loser," she huffs, rolling her eyes. her hands trace your features under her lamp, her eyes softening at each cut littering your face, and her heart practically pounds out of her chest.

"can't have you getting bored now, can i? you need some sort of entertainment in your life, pretty," you smile playfully, not realizing the word that slips out your mouth. and strangely—to you—yoonchae freezes.

pretty.

and you still don't notice, too immersed in looking over your bandaged arm secured by pins, a smile still dancing over your features. but then you do, and likewise, you freeze, alarms ringing in your head—fuck, fuck, fuck. you were waiting for the right moment to confess, and this was certainly not the moment—you bite the inside of your cheek, before frantically shaking your head.

"fuck, uh—sorry," you mumble in a frenzy, profusely apologizing, "it just slipped out, sorry." a sheepish smile now adorns your face, as you clear your throat. and god, were you a wreck. your ears burn, as you try to decipher the expression on yoonchae's face, afraid you scared the poor girl off. you hide your face in your hands, far too embarrassed.

her heart malfunctions, as she processes your words, blinking repeatedly, before she nods understandingly, stumbling over your words, "no, no—yeah, it's all good, don't make a big fuss out of it." she tries to dismiss your words; she's so sure that you probably didn't mean to call her pretty. and her lips thinks quicker than her brain does, because she then blurts out, "do you like me?" a pink hue already painting the tips of her ears, as she gingerly stands in front of you.

you still in your movements, not expecting the korean girl to bluntly mutter that out. stammering, you shuffle quickly to answer, "well—i mean, yeah. yes, i do, and a lot at that. i like you, yoonchae—probably for months now," you confess, heat curling at your cheeks, as you watch her reaction. you stare, and the girl doesn't answer; she just sits there, her eyes widened.

"this- this was stupid, wasn't it? we're best friends. this isn't normal, i mean," you try to dismiss, "let's just forget this ever happened; we could go back to being just friends, right?" you go off on a tangent, both your head and heart pounding, still unaware of the way yoonchae chuckles lowly at your awkwardness. and interrupting you, she softly presses her lips against yours, leaving you flushed and embarrassed. could this get any worse?

"calm down, i would be more than happy to be your girlfriend" yoonchae wraps her arms gently around your neck, a smile adorning her face, and her tone dulcet. continuing, she teases, "pretty," eliciting a huff from you.

but i gotta know

do you really like me? do you really like me?

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[w2soneshots]

Glitter -W2S

words: 0.6k+

warnings: jealousy.

summary: Harry doesn’t like glitter but when he sees you putting some on Chris at the eras tour he changes his mind.

notes: hey babes! I’m not a swifte and don’t know loads about Taylor Swift but I hope I did this request justice🫶🏼. Enjoy!!🤗🎀

Liked by wroetoshaw, faithloisak and 893,012 others

y/username: T Swift baby!!!🩵

Tagged: @wroetoshaw @chrismd10 @theobaker

-comments-

taliamar: HOTTIE🥵

chrismd10: glitter for dayyyzz

y/nfanpage21: the makeup's lookin fire😚🤌

user56911304: w2s confirmed swiftie??!!

"Oh Harry, come on. It's just glitter!" I was trying to convince Harry to let me put some of my glitter onto his face. "Nah, no, it's messy and annoying." He backed up from my glittery hands. I huffed, though I respected his decision. "Fine. So boring." I turned to finish doing my makeup.

Once I was ready I popped a pot of silver glitter into my bag, along with powder and lipgloss, just in case I needed to touch anything up. I slipped my heels on then made my way into the living room. Harry got up from his place on the sofa.

"You look great babe," he complimented, hands making their way to my waist. I smiled up at him. "Sure you don't want any glitter?" I tried one last time. He huffed out a laugh. "I'm sure, let's go."

We left and got a taxi to Wembley stadium. Harry got a text from Chris just as the car pulled up a few streets away saying that him and Theo were already inside. We walked through a sea of people before finally getting to the entrance.

We scanned our tickets and made it inside without a hitch. "There they are!" Harry said loudly as the stadium was filled with people and very noisy. "Hi!" I exclaimed as we got to our seats right at the back. I shared a quick hug with the boys then got situated.

When Taylor finally came out the crowd burst into excited screams and the intro music began playing. Chris seemed to be extremely excited. Me, Harry and Theo chuckled as we watched his face light up.

y/username just posted a new story!

Around two hours in I reached into my bag to reapply my lipgloss, along with the glitter I'd brought. "Is that glitter?" I heard Chris ask from beside me. "Yeah, want some?" I asked hopefully. He nodded eagerly.

I reached my finger into the pot and dabbed some over his skin from his temple to his cheekbone. We were taking as I did it and once I was finished I turned back to my bag to see that Harry was looking at us.

"You okay?" I asked, brows raised. He shuffled slightly. "Uh- I changed my mind, can I have some?" He gestured down to the pot in my hand. I smirked. "Jealous are we?" I teased as I did the same to him as I'd done with Chris. "No. Just realised it looks cool," he replied nonchalantly. "Mhm, sure." I giggled.

I was extremely pleased that everyone was now sporting silver gitter and I was glad Harry had given in. We all turned our attention back to the stage.

The concert lasted just over three and a half hours. By the end my voice was practically gone and my feet were killing me but I'd had so much fun. It took an annoying amount of time to get out of the stadium though.

We parted ways with the boys and Harry held my hand tightly as we rushed to the uber we'd booked prior, trying not to bump into people as there was a large crowd outside.

The traffic was awful on the way home and I ended up drifting off, my head resting on Harry's shoulder. He helped me inside when we finally arrived outside of our apartment and we both fell into bed.

The next morning we woke to glitter spread across both of our pillows. Harry groaned. "This is why I hate that stuff." I chuckled groggily. "You looked hot though babe."

[chaoticelectron]

Keanu Reeves is a good example

today my bf and i were talking about visiting my home for the holidays and i was (sadly) wondering aloud if i should cut my hair and our kid was like "why would you cut your hair??? your hair is cool" and not knowing how to explain it to him i said "my family doesnt think boys should have long hair" to which he went silent, wordlessly pulled out his phone and then swiftly held it out with a picture of keeanu reeves on his phone

[nadvs]

keep thinking about having a sneaky link and or fwb situation with rafe and one night he calls you and hes like ‘can i come over i need you’ and youre like dude im asleep but hes already standing at your place and when you open the door hes all dishevelled and bloody and beat up and drunk or high or whatever and close to passing out so you patch him up and eventually get into some freaky stuff and maybe he even ends up confessing hes falling for you……. is that anything

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

content warning blood/injury

You’re used to Rafe’s name flashing on your phone late at night. He’s usually drunk or high after a party, desperate to fuck and knowing you’re almost always up for it.

You know he’s not interested in nor capable of having sex with any strings attached. It’s just a friends with benefits situation, and you’ll take what you can get, loving how perfectly his body fits into yours.

But it hasn’t stopped you from developing feelings for the complex, hardened man who’s seen you naked dozens of times.

Tonight, you’re already dozing off when your phone starts buzzing. You tiredly pick it up to see he’s calling. He never calls. Only texts.

You figure it’s another booty call and let it go to voicemail.

But he calls again. And again.

“What?” you say groggily.

“Can I come over?” he rasps.

“I’m sleeping,” you say. “Another night, ‘kay?”

“Please. I need you.”

“What?” you ask. You’ve never heard his voice like this. Sad. Empty.

“I’m outside your building. I… I need you,” he repeats.

You agree even though you’re exhausted, hearing desperation in his voice. When you open your door, Rafe’s head is hanging, his messy hair falling over his forehead, his lips parted.

When he finally looks up, you notice blood spattered over his nose.

“What the hell happened?” you ask, eyes widening.

“Can you help me?” he says. Rafe doesn’t have anywhere else to go. He realizes how pathetic it is that a girl he fucks casually is the closest person he has to him. And how pathetic is that you don’t even know it.

He’s leaning against your bathroom sink as you dab a wet tissue over the dried blood, his lids heavy. He feels like he’s about to pass out, but he wants to keep looking at you.

Even through the fog, gazing at you and feeling the way you take care of him gets him hard. As you clean him up, you notice the bulge in his jeans.

“Really?” you say with a breathy laugh.

“You’re hot,” he drawls, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

After tossing out the bloodied tissue, you brush Rafe’s bangs out of his face and study his tired features. He doesn’t get many moments like this with you. These soft, quiet moments of concern and care.

It makes him wonder, like always, if you feel the way he does.

“What happened?” you ask.

“Fight,” he says with a shrug.

“Ever considered just walking away?”

“That’s stupid.”

You chuckle and step back, but he pulls you in by your wrist and kisses you, fighting through the pain radiating on his face. You purposely kiss gently so not to hurt him, arousal twisting inside of you. You don’t care about how tired you are anymore.

He stands, pushing you back, following your footsteps into your room. He grinds into you once you’re on your bed, feeling himself throbbing already.

“I thought you were hurt,” you tease.

“I am,” Rafe whispers. “Make me feel better.”

He knows your body by now, knows where to touch to get you wet. He kisses down your neck as he pulls your pajamas off, rubbing you over your panties.

You strip him down to his boxers, dipping your hand into them and stroking his hard, smooth cock. He lets out a groan, loving the feeling of your fingers wrapped around him.

Once you’re naked, you sit on him, slowly sinking onto him, letting him bury into you. Rafe throws his head back in pleasure. He never gets used to how nicely you squeeze around him.

As you start to rock, your hands on his firm chest, he watches you on top of him in awe. He grips your hips, letting you take full control, loving how you writhe and move and breathe.

“You take it so fucking good,” he praises, revelling in how hot and wet you are.

You lean down so your clit rubs against his base, whimpering at the sensation, arching your back. Rafe’s hands rest on your ass as you move on top of him, reaching your peak with shallow breaths.

He cums quickly after you, emptying himself inside you in hard and fast spurts, groaning through his climax.

You clean up and settle beside him, sure he’ll head out soon. He never stays the night. But he’s not getting up.

He turns to kiss you again, cradling your face. You figure he wants to go for a second round. He continues to run his tongue over yours, languidly and without the speed and urgency you’re used to.

Rafe isn’t touching you anywhere else. His palms are on your cheeks, his lips gently sucking yours. He eventually pulls back, forehead against yours.

“I can’t keep doing this,” he mutters.

“Doing what?”

“Pretending.” He swallows hard. “Pretending like this is just fucking.”

“What?” Your heart is racing. Your stomach is numb. You look at him in the dimness of your room.

“This no strings attached thing is bullshit,” he says. “You’re all I fucking think about.”

He kisses you again, soft and shy for the first time.

“Is it just me?” he asks. He’s hurting all over, in pain from simply imagining you rejecting him.

You’re worried he’s just fucked up from whatever he was drinking or inhaling earlier tonight, but you take the opportunity to get your feelings off your chest, no matter the risk.

“It’s not just you,” you finally say.

He breaths a short sigh of relief, kissing you again, thumb stroking your temple.

Rafe isn’t sure when you went from an amazing hook-up to a girl who’s slowly taking his heart piece by piece, but it’s been agony keeping it from you.

He’s glad that he doesn’t have to pretend anymore, but mostly, he’s elated that you feel the same.

[cherrylibby]

Beneath the Mask

You were crouched on the floor, setting down a bowl of food for your cat, Golden, when the faint rustle of movement caught your attention. Turning toward your bedroom, you froze for a moment, watching Peter Parker stir awake. He blinked groggily, his gaze darting around the room as if trying to piece together where he was.

“Well, look who’s awake,” you said, your voice breaking the silence.

Peter jolted upright, startled, his movements stiff. His eyes snapped to you, wide and questioning.

“Y/N?” His voice was hoarse, confusion lacing every word. He glanced down at himself, noting the torn remains of his Spider-Man suit clinging to him. “Wait—”

“Relax,” you interrupted with a calming wave of your hand, kneeling to finish placing the bowl of food in front of Golden. “Your mask’s in my closet. No one saw you, so you can stop freaking out.”

His shoulders sagged slightly in relief, though the tension didn’t fully leave his body. “Why am I here?” he asked, his voice cautious as he lowered himself onto the edge of your bed.

You straightened up, brushing your hands on your sweatpants. “You were unconscious in the middle of the road, Peter. I almost hit you with my car. What was I supposed to do—just leave you there?”

He blinked, clearly taken aback by your bluntness. “Oh…”

Walking to your closet, you pulled his mask from the top shelf and tossed it to him. “There’s a spare toothbrush on the bathroom counter. You look like you could use it.”

“Y/N—” he started, his voice softer now, but he hesitated. His gaze dropped to the floor, his expression unreadable. Finally, he looked back at you. “Thank you. Really.”

You shrugged, feigning indifference though the warmth in his voice made your chest tighten. “It’s no big deal. Just go clean up. I grabbed some of my brother’s old clothes for you to change into.”

Peter hesitated for a moment longer before nodding and heading into the bathroom. As the door clicked shut, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

It had been weeks since you and Peter had spoken—maybe longer. Ever since you noticed him pulling away, keeping secrets, and dodging your questions, things between you had become strained. You’d always known there was more to him than he let on, but the distance he created was cutting deeper than you cared to admit.

Golden rubbed against your leg, her soft purr grounding you. You crouched to scratch behind her ears, then began tidying up the room. The blanket and pillows you’d used to make a makeshift bed for Peter were folded and tucked away in the closet. Sunlight spilled into the room as you opened the blinds, the golden hue of spring casting everything in a warm glow.

The sound of the bathroom door creaking open pulled your attention. You turned to see Peter standing there, his damp hair curling slightly from the steam. He was wearing an old Blink-182 concert T-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants that were a little loose on him. Despite the fresh clothes, his posture was still tense, and there was a faint grimace on his face.

“Feeling better?” you asked, arching a brow.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said quickly, but the way he shifted his weight told you otherwise.

“Peter,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “You’re limping. Sit down.”

He opened his mouth to protest but closed it again at your pointed look. With a defeated sigh, he lowered himself back onto the bed.

Grabbing the med kit from your desk drawer, you knelt in front of him. “Let me see,” you said, your voice softer now.

Peter hesitated before lifting his shirt, revealing a deep, jagged gash along his side. The sight made your stomach twist, but you kept your expression neutral.

“This looks bad,” you murmured, carefully dabbing at the wound with a damp cloth. Peter winced but didn’t pull away.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he said after a moment, his voice barely above a whisper.

You paused, glancing up at him. “Of course I did. You scared the hell out of me, Peter. I couldn’t just leave you there.”

“I mean...” He hesitated, his voice faltering. “After everything. After how I’ve been—how I’ve treated you.”

His words made you pause, your hand hovering over the wound. “Yeah,” you said softly, the weight of unspoken hurt pressing against your chest. “You’ve been distant. You shut me out, Peter. And I didn’t understand why.”

He looked down, guilt shadowing his features. “I thought I was protecting you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Protecting me from what?” you asked, frustration seeping into your tone. “From you? From the truth?”

Peter’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists. “From the danger that comes with knowing the truth,” he said finally, his voice raw. “I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

You swallowed hard, your hands shaking as you reached for the bandages. “Peter... you hurt me by shutting me out. By not trusting me. You don’t get to decide what I can or can’t handle.”

His gaze snapped up to meet yours, and for a moment, the room was filled with a heavy silence. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking. “I didn’t know what else to do. But I see now—I see that I was wrong.”

“Peter,” you said, your tone softening further. You set down the cloth and placed a gentle hand on his knee. “You don’t have to apologize. I care about you. You don’t have to do everything alone, you know.”

His eyes softened, and for a moment, the tension in his shoulders seemed to melt away. “I don’t deserve you, Y/N,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.  His eyes softened, and for a moment, the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You smiled, your heart pounding as you leaned in closer. “Well, lucky for you, you won’t have to find out.”

Before either of you could second-guess yourselves, Peter reached out, his hand brushing against your cheek as he closed the distance between you. The kiss was soft at first, a tentative exploration, but it quickly deepened as the emotions you’d both been holding back spilled over.

When you finally pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, your heart pounding in your chest. “We’ll figure this out,” you whispered. “Together.”

Peter nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Together,” he echoed.

As you sat back, the weight of the unspoken tension between you seemed to lift, replaced by something lighter, something warmer. Whatever challenges lay ahead, you knew you wouldn’t face them alone.

[rztaros]

: healing bonds

synopsis. tending to her wounds pairing. clarisse la rue x fem!r genre. fluff wc. 1k+ now playing. bewitched by laufey . . . 💿 notes. 💬 lowercase intended + sorta flirty clarisse

the night hung heavy with silence, and the dim glow of the lamp besides you casted a warm light across the room. seated comfortably in your bed, you'd cradle a book in your hands, finding solace within it.

you'd soon be interrupted by consecutive taps against your window. sitting up groggily, you'd draw open the curtains. as you squinted, you saw none other than clarisse, your girlfriend, aiming to throw another rock at your window just to draw your attention to her.

when she finally noticed she got your attention, she'd stand with a shit-eating grin, dropping all the remaining pebbles in her hand.

"about time!" clarisse exclaimed dramatically, acting as if she had something urgent to announce.

you tried to suppress a smile at her mannerisms, cracking the window all the way up while also trying to stay as quiet as you possibly could to not wake any of your siblings up.

as you helped clarisse up, you couldn't help but notice the gash on her arm and tiny cuts scattered around her hands. clarisse sat down on your bed, the rebellious spark in her eyes still lingering. you'd sit down besides her, your gaze flickering to her arms, hands, and face, taking in all the cuts she had.

"sooo… what are you doing here?" you muttered as concern washed over your face.

"i just missed my girlfriend, sue me," she responded sarcastically, throwing you a familiar smirk. you rolled your eyes before bringing your hands to her arm and hands, your fingers brushing over her gash and cuts softly.

you sighed, your lips twisting into a frown. suddenly getting up and turning to the counter, you gathered ointment cream, a small cloth, a bottle of peroxide, a roll of bandage wraps, and scissors.

drenching the cloth with peroxide, you'd swing back around to face clarisse. your fingers dab the now drenched cloth over the freshly stitched gash on clarisse's arm. clarisse would wince at the sharp, lingering stings each time the dab met her arm.

as soon as you finished applying the peroxide, you'd apply ointment on her cuts. you'd be sure to be gentle and deliberate while tending to clarisse's cuts.

while trying to lighten the mood, clarisse would blurt out, "you look beautiful tonight."

the compliment rolled off clarisse's tongue, the girl watching you intently apply ointment to her cuts.

usually, you would be flustered at her compliments, often burying your head into the back of her neck, as your mind recalls it over and over again. however, tonight was an exception to that condition as you'd only sigh in response.

"just… stay still, clar." you'd exhale. your hand cupped her cheek while the other was tending to the cuts that stained her face. with the dab of ointment cream on your fingertip, you applied it on her face.

tracing her features under the dim lighting of your lamp, it'd seem almost as if you were mapping out constellations beneath her skin. except, rather than constellations, they were cuts littered across her face in hues of red.

even just the thought of clarisse being hurt pulled your heart-strings into a knot that can't seem to be untied.

as you were lost in your thoughts while you rubbed ointment over clarisse's face, clarisse would notice, "are you okay?"

you'd look up at clarisse incredulously, and by then, you'd realize the close proximity between the two of you. you felt her breath fanned against your cheek, making you lean away for a moment, "i should be asking you that, y'know."

clarisse's chuckle filled the room, and for the first time tonight, the atmosphere felt lighter, just by the sound of her laughter. it'd feel as if a weight shifted off your chest, and the only thing the world revolved around were you and clarisse.

"i guess you're right, y/n," clarisse would mutter, a soft smile laid on the corners of her lips.

you'd nod, continuing to apply the cream, "tell me if anythin' hurts, alright?" with a tender touch, you'd move a strand of clarisse's hair that had fallen across her face, making sure to treat each inch of the girl's wounds.

once you finished applying the ointment, you'd go to bandage clarisse's arm. you'd start to wrap from her bicep to her forearm, securing the end using a few pins. just as you finished bandaging her up, you'd see a bit of blood through the topmost layers, but the blood doesn't seep through.

you pulled away from clarisse to inspect her face for any more wounds, unaware of the effect you had on her. there was something about you that made her feel as if you guys were destined to be each other, that everything falls into place.

perhaps it was your way with words and the sincerity laced in them—or maybe it was the way you were always concerned for the girl and cared for her deeply. or maybe how even just her calling out your name would lead to you by her side immediately.

her heart swelled even at the mention of you.

it reminded her of the the ongoing list of reasons why she loved you in the first place, and of course, she could never get tired of loving you.

she'd take your wrist in her hold, never wavering once when she pulled you closer to herself. her lips would crash against your own, noses bumped occasionally, eyes closed, and brows furrowed. as you two pulled away, the sound of heavy breathing would be the only thing you could hear in the room.

the once unbearable silence and tension between you two now shifted to a particular warmth. a shared vulnerability lingered in the air.

"fuck…" you'd mumble, trailing off and continuing, "i have to redo the ointment all over again, clar!" you'd grumble, though the both of you knew you weren't really complaining. how could you complain when she held you with tenderness and vulnerability like no other?

"c'mon, just save the ointment for later," a mischievous gleam in clarisse's eyes as she'd grin ever so widely.

clarisse reached out, intertwining her fingers with yours for a fleeting moment. the connection lingered in the air, a silent acknowledgment of you two's infatuation for each other.

there are a thousand things waiting to be conveyed, a thousand things she needs to confess to you.

and maybe, once wasn't enough. her voice, barely above a whisper,

"let me kiss you again."

every damn second you're with me

i try to think straight

but i'm falling so badly, i'm falling apart

[chaoticelectron]

is tumblr stalking me?

Things are going to work out.

[chaoticelectron]

Oh gosh. Wtf is the new BSD chapter. I just can't. I literally can't. Let me breath Asagiri.

* Dies *

[alsktudy]

— because i love you

paring. joshua x reader genre. fluff, comfort, bsf!joshua, f2l, mutual pining, it's the little things au wc. 0.7k warning. reader drinks alcohol and wears make up, mention of vomit, confession

synopsis. you finally learn the reason why joshua insists on doing the little things for you.

au m.list. it's the little things [f]

“take slow steps alright?”

you nod, grinning like an idiot at his words as he helps you make your way to the bedroom without planting your face onto the floor.

usually you wouldn’t drink this much, but something in you wanted to go a little crazy tonight. but you went a little too far, which led to your friends to calling the one guy who would like to look after you voluntarily.

“you smell horrible,” joshua laughs as you plop down, laying on the bed.

joshua begins talking, but it all seems muffled as some uncomfortable feeling begins to bubble up from your stomach.

suddenly you sit up and sober up, “shua! m-move!” you push him out of the way and beeline straight for the bathroom, kneeling at the toilet causing joshua to rush in and hold up your hair.

you groan as he helps you up and brings water for you to drink.

“gotta brush your teeth, don’t want you to have vomit breath in the morning.” you pout and nod, groggily making you way to the sink.

you lean on him as the two of you walk back to the bedroom, laying back down on the bed, closing your eyes.

he hears your soft snores and his heart begins to melt at the sight. he chuckles to himself and begins to take your stinky clothes off.

if this was anyone else, you probably would try to kick them the second they tried to help you out of your clothes, but your head was still buzzing and it felt a little nice being helped for once, plus joshua would be stubborn and insist on helping you.

once he has you in your fresh clothes, he carefully tucks you underneath your blankets then notices your makeup and groans at himself for not reminding you to wash your face.

seeing how peaceful you were while sleeping, he decides not to wake you and runs off to dab micellar water on a cotton pad and returns back into the room, gently wipe off your makeup, your eyes slowly fluttering open.

“sorry… just needed to take your make up off.” he says a little guilty for waking you up.

you shake your head and mumble, “it’s fine, i should be sorry,” he moves away then throws the pads in the nearby trash can and tilts his head in confusion, “i’m such a burden to you.” you chuckle pathetically at yourself.

“and why do you think you’re a burden?” he asks, adjusting the blanket so that you’re sufficiently covered.

“i made you pick me up, and help me and stuff... ugh i even vomited… that’s so gross.” you groan at yourself, being a little embarrassed.

he sits on your side of the bed and sighs to himself, “i’d rather pick you up from the bar, help get you out of your clothes, take off your makeup and tuck you into bed than read your text telling that you woke up on the floor,” he reaches out to caress your cheek. “imagine how gross it would be if you vomited while you were home alone.”

“but why do you help me?“ you say, face growing a little hotter at the feeling of his hand on your face, “i don’t deserve this, or you."

he smiles and rests his forehead yours, “i do all of this, because i love you.”

you stare up at him with big eyes adoring him, his three words ringing through out your ears. “what…?”

he whispers, “i love you, i’m- hoplessly in love with you and i hope you could love me too.”

“i can. i- i mean i already i do.” you mumble shyly.

he eyes widen a little, then he smiles then presses a kiss on tip of your nose, “now cmon, how bout you fall asleep, hm?” he says, smiling before walking to the door.”

you call out his name, causing to stop and look at you over his shoulder. “stay over tonight,” you say patting to the unoccupied space next to you, “please?”

he could never say no to you. he makes his way around the bed and goes underneath the covers, shuffling a little closer before pulling you closer.

“i really love you,” he mumbles into your hair, “and i’ll do everything in my power to show you that i do every day of my life, i promise.” he says before the two of you drift to sleep.

thank you for reading until the end!! please reblog if you enjoyed it :)

a/n. oh! 2 fics in a month!? thats new. currently not learning any content at school so im able to write a little more! this might be the last one for a while, but hopefully not!

want to read more? » m.list

want to be tagged? » taglist

tags:

@aaniag @kokoiinuts @nishloves @joshuashna @sofix-hc7 @mekuiikore @onlyyjeonghan @dokyeomkyeom

[chaoticelectron]

The prettiest character in Tears of Themis!! Sorry Artem, Luke and Marius

[mikoworks]

Folks expressed interest in reading the scripts for the Curly and Jimmy high school/college AU comics I’m working on, so here’s a script about how Jimmy got his scar!

Game night

Curly is waiting for Jimmy to come over that night. It’s getting late. Curly is getting worried.

Curly texts Jimmy: Hey, are we still on for game night? Are you okay?

No answer.

Curly looks out the living room window. Nothing.

Curly sighs, slumps on the couch, turns on the tv, and boots up a video game.

Curly falls asleep on the couch.

Later that night, there’s a loud knock on the front door.

Curly is startled awake.

He groggily trudges to the door and opens it.

He quickly awakens fully with a shocked expression.

Jimmy stands on the porch with a gash on his mouth. Blood drips down his chin onto his shirt.

Jimmy: Sorry I’m late.

Jimmy chuckles.

Curly ushers Jimmy inside.

Curly: Jimmy, what the hell happened?

Jimmy: Biking accident.

Curly: Bullshit. I know a biking accident when I see one. Was it your dad again?

Jimmy kicks off his shoes and slumps on the couch.

Curly kneels next to him on the floor.

Curly reaches toward Jimmy’s face.

Curly: Can I help?

Jimmy moves his face away from Curly’s hands.

Jimmy: You’re not my fucking mom.

Curly: Right, right… sorry for pushing.

Jimmy sighs.

Jimmy: Fine. You can help.

Curly rushes out of the room. Jimmy picks up the remote control and starts playing a game. Curly returns with a wet rag and bowl of water.

Curly dabs the rag on Jimmy’s lip.

Curly: Why didn’t you go to urgent care?

Jimmy: Because I didn’t want to miss game night.

Curly: Your health is more important.

Jimmy: I’ve dealt with worse. Turned out fine every time.

Curly brushes his finger against the gash on Jimmy’s lip.

Curly: You’re going to need stitches.

Curly and Jimmy exchange glances.

Curly’s expression is pained empathy.

Jimmy’s angry expression softens to guilt.

Jimmy: Why do you care? In a couple of months you’ll be off at that fancy college in California having the time of your life.

Curly: Fancy college in California?

Jimmy: The one you talked about nonstop for months.

Curly: About that…

Curly picks up the acceptance letter off the coffee table and hands it to Jimmy.

Jimmy reads it.

Jimmy: Wait, you’re going to college HERE?

Curly: Yep. That “fancy college in California” didn’t have the program I wanted.

Jimmy smiles.

Curly: Which reminds me. I wanted to ask you… Would you like to be roommates?

Jimmy: I’m not going to college, Curly.

Curly: Doesn’t matter. We can get an off campus apartment. I’ll go to school, you’ll go to work. Maybe it’ll be good for you to… get away.

Jimmy tears up.

Jimmy: And here I thought you were just going to up and leave.

Curly: What? No. Why would I do that?

Jimmy: Because that’s what everyone else does.

Curly: Jimmy I…

Curly thinks to himself, I love you.

Curly: I would never leave you.

Jimmy slumps and cries.

Curly: Can I… hug you?

Jimmy hugs Curly. Curly returns the hug.

Jimmy: Yeah, it was my dad.

Curly: I know.

[haunteddollz]

stranger things masterlist

pairing(s): eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: Eddie wasn’t the one to show up at his door the night of Chrissy’s death and first drug deal.

WARNING(S): fluff. cursing, and barely any dialogue

author’s note: Chrissy’s death didn’t happen and we are going to pretend that instead of Eddie driving her to his trailer she walked or biked idfk

At Eddie’s trailer, he and Y/n were fast asleep in his bed. She had spent the previous night and stayed. Y/n cuddled further into Eddie, burrowing her head into the crook of his neck.

The boy mumbled in his sleep and continued to cuddle his girlfriend, completely forgetting about some business he was supposed to take care of as he slept.

While the happy and comfortable couple were sleeping, Chrissy had pulled up to the front of Eddie’s trailer. She nervously let in a breath, trying to calm her heart rate. She got off her bike leaving it in the grass and walked up to the lit porch of the Munson’s trailer.

Bringing her fist shakily to the door, she knocked hesitantly.

Slightly hearing the knocking, the half-asleep couple groaned at the person at the door at such an hour. Y/n lifted her head up a bit to look at Eddie was quite literally passed the fuck out.

She rolls her eyes and slaps his chest, the action does nothing. Said girl groggily gets up from the comfort of her boyfriend’s chest and bed. Walking out the room, she peeks out the window to see who’s at the door.

Confused she opens the door to the one and only Chrissy Cunningham. Y/n was extremely confused as to why such a girl was on ‘this’ side of town let alone at Eddie 'The Freak’ Munson’s trailer.

She looks at the girl still tired. She sighs and covers her eyes from the exposure of light.

Chrissy stands there surprised to see a girl in a Hellfire shirt (preferably Eddie’s) at the door. She opens her mouth to say something still shocked and still quite nervous, “Who are you?”

Y/n stares at the shocked and confused girl. Said girl yawns and replies, “ Y/n L/n, Eddie’s girlfriend. What are you doing here?”

Chrissy doesn’t know how to say she’s here for drugs. She knows that if anyone found out that she was buying drugs let alone spending an inch of her time with Eddie. She would be ruined.

Y/n looked at the cheerleader waiting for an answer. The cheer captain shook her head and responded, “Um…Eddie told me to meet him here for.. the um-” she was cut off by Y/n’s understanding “ Oh wow! I’d never thought I’d see the day where a cheerleader was buying drugs nonetheless from Eddie.”

She tilts her head back and says, “Come on in princess. I’ll wake up Eddie so he can get your 'goods’ ”

The blonde walked into the Munson residence looking around. She stays smack dab in the middle of the trailer.

(or where she was standing in the episode)

Y/n walked off to her boyfriend's room to find him still sleeping like a baby. She admired him for a mere second and then rolled her eyes and walked up to him. She started to shake trying to get him up.

Y/n was never one to be gentle especially when she was annoyed and tired.

“Eddie get the fuck up.”

As a response he groaned and threw the blanket over his head.

She sighed and shook as roughly as she could. It didn’t do shit. Y/n huffed and slouched until an idea came to mind.

She smirked at her idea. Climbing on top of him and planting herself on his legs. She leaned down and began to………

tickle him…

Eddie immediately responded with a laugh. He started to wheeze. He tried to stop her and repeatedly said, “Ok..Ok! I’m up. Jesus H. Christ I’m up.”

Chrissy hears the laughter of the supposed 'Freak Couple’ and smiles.

Y/n still planted on his wraps her arms around his neck and plays with his hair. Oh how she loved his long, dark, luscious locks. She whispered in his ear, “Miss. Prissy Pants is here for a deal.”

His eyes widened in remembrance. He picked her up and she tightened her legs around him while he looked for 'the goods’.

He finally found it rushed out of his room while still keeping her safely around his torso. Walking to Chrissy slightly out of breath from running around. “There you go princess. Pleasure doing business with ya.”

Chrissy smiled at the boy and his girl.

Walking out of the trailer and off the porch. She picked up her bike and rode back home.

The couple walked back (more like Eddie) to the bedroom and plopped down on the bed. Eddie on top of Y/n started planting multiple kisses all over his face.

She laughed at him and with him.

All Chrissy thought about was that...they were the perfect couple

Meanwhile with Eddie and Y/n. They cuddled up in bed slowly regaining the sleep they lost. They both muttered small 'I love you’ to each other and fell asleep with smiles on their face.

[fashionteahouse]

can you do paul x reader

So paul doesn't like the amount of plushies reader have on her bad and he always says it's for children but one day she came and found him sleep in her bad and hugging her plushies so she decided to take a photo for him and send it in the pack group 😭

i know the boys will make fun of him for a months

hopefully this request haven’t been done b4 but sure they sure wouldn’t let him live it down 🙂‍↕️ hope you enjoy :)

still sane - paul x reader

Tugging on his arm, Paul followed your lead. He climbed the stairs in your home after he agreed to come over. Pushing open the bedroom door, you notice the halt in his steps.

You turn to find him staring at your bed, you give him a confused look.

His face is in a humorous grin, “Where am I supposed to sit?” as he relentlessly pushes your once neatly placed plushies, to the side.

“Stop. They were nice and neat. And don’t be harsh.” you tell him as you gently set them back presentable on your bed.

“What are you, five?” he teases and holds one up to prove his point.

You snatch it out of his hand and roll your eyes, “It’s comforting.”

“Comforting for children.” he added on. You glare at him while he chuckles and shakes his head, “I don’t know how you’re still sane. All of those in my bed would drive me crazy at night.”

“Good thing they’re on my bed and not yours.” you say as you finish fluffing them up, making sure that they’re neat.

As you were driving, you stopped at a red light. A text message from Paul pops up.

“You’re not home ?”

You type back.

“No, just go in with the spare key”

You set the phone down and the light turns green. The drive home was a bit lengthy since there was traffic.

Unlocking your home and climbing up your stairs, you push open the cracked bedroom door and find Paul asleep.

He moved the plushies out of the way to lay on his back, instead of putting to the side, he had them snug and tucked under his arm.

Quietly snickering, you pull out a phone and click photos. You hold your mouth to your hand as you quietly chuckle at the pictures, swiping through them.

You don’t even type anything, sending them to the pack group chat.

It didn’t take long for them to binge back with messages, emoji’s and all.

A laugh couldn’t be held in, so of course, Paul stirs.

He blinks open his eyes and says groggily, “What’s so funny.” You just shake your head as you hold your stomach.

His phone is buzzing in his pocket. He reaches in, with the plushies still under his arm, and turn on his phone.

“The hell are they blowing up my phone for?” he asks in confusion before seeing the pictures that you sent. You couldn’t do anything but look away as your laughter have no chance of dying down.

“Y/N, delete this. Now.” he says but it only makes you laugh harder. “It’s not funny. Delete this.” he keeps on saying. When your laughing fit doesn’t get cured, he huffs angrily and throws the plushies down.

The frown on Paul’s face doesn’t change. Jared comes and sits next to him as you sip your drink.

“Aww what’s wrong Paul? Do you need your plushies to help you feel better?”

This makes the table erupt as Paul gets up from the table and stomps to another room. You had to use a napkin to dab up the spilled liquid that dripped out of your mouth from laughing too hard.

The plushies jokes weren’t as intense as the months go by. As you all sit around the Christmas tree, you all open your gifts from the secret santa you all have been assigned to.

Embry jumps up and excitedly hands his gift to Paul.

“And this one is for you.” he tells him and Paul accepts and rips open his gift. All eyes are on him as he opens it up and watch the scowl on his face form.

“Really?” he says and rolls his eyes as he holds up a plushie as you all cackle and laugh at the gift Embry gave him.