#oh wow look at me waking up two hours before something

[just-slightly-chayotic]

the temptation to just stay home and instead rewatch kinnporsche again is so strong

[obito-in-disguise]

| Bedtime fluff with the jjk men |

Featuring: Satoru Gojo, Geto Suguru, and Nanami Kento.

Satoru

You sighed as you pushed through your front door, trudging your tired body across the foyer into the living room. Work was tough today and you wanted nothing more than to hop into bed right now, preferably with your cuddly boyfriend, Satoru.

“Evening baby, what took you so long?” he asks from his spot on the living room couch, his six eyes notifying him of your presence before you even stepped into the house.

“Work was shit today, plus the bus was 15 minutes late”

Satoru sighs, tugging you to sit on the couch before pulling you into his arms. You basically melt into his touch, his comforting warmth making the stress dissipate from your body like melting snow.

“You know, my offer to pick you up from work everyday still stands” Satoru hums as he rests his chin on the top of your head.

His statement causes you to scrunch up your face, “you already have a lot on your plate Toru, I wouldn’t want to burden you”

“nonsense! It would be fun, it’ll be like carpooling.” He explains animatedly, already excited about the idea. “oh and Suguru can come too!” “I’m pretty sure Suguru would rather die Satoru, but sure” you chuckle at his enthusiasm before patting his paintbrush like hair.

“Great! Let’s get you to bed then” He announces, scooping you up as he strides to the bedroom with his long limbs.

“Gosh Satoru! A little warning would be nice first” you playfully glare at him as you clutch his clothes for dear life, your heart beating out of your chest from the sudden action.

He merely laughs as he reaches the bedroom, setting you down and heading into his closet to find you something to wear to sleep.

You use the opportunity to freshen up in the bathroom, emerging a few minutes later wrapped in a fluffy towel.

“Thanks toru” you mumble as you change into the shirt he laid out for you, giggling when you catch him sneaking peeks at you as you change "Stop staring perv”

“hey! You can’t do that in front of me and expect me not to look” he scoffs as he grabs your arm and tugs you onto the bed, wrapping his long limbs around you like a snake.

You try to shove him away a little but eventually give up when he only tightens his hold in response.

“sleep princess, I’ll be here when you wake up” he whispers uncharacteristically softly, that was all the charge you needed to doze off into dreamland, Satoru following after you not long after.

Suguru

“Just try it”

“no”

“please sugu!”

“no Y/N” he mocks your whiny tone as he chuckles, watching you hold out a face mask you’ve been begging him to try on with you for the past eight minutes.

“I thought you loved me” you scoff, folding your arms.

“you’re going to question my love for you over a face mask?”

“yes! Because if you truly loved me then you would do it”

He rolls his eyes before grabbing the face mask from you hands and examining it skeptically “fine but no pictures”

“aw but you look so cute in face masks” he scoffs and moves to drop the facemask back but you laugh and quickly grab his hands “ok ok deal”.

“how long do we have to keep it on” Suguru asks exasperatedly, his fingers prodding at the itchy mask as you two now sit on the bed tangled in each other’s limbs.

You swat at his fingers to prevent him from messing up the mask which earns you a warning glare. “Just a couple more hours” “WHAT”

“I’m only kidding Sugu, just thirty minutes more”

“like that’s any better” he mumbles throwing his head back onto the pillow dramatically.

A few minutes go by and while you’ve been mindlessly scrolling through your phone, Suguru has been tossing and turning dramatically, hoping to get your attention and make you feel bad for putting him in this predicament.

“Stop being such a baby suguru” you roll your eyes as you watch him turn childishly for the umpteenth time.

“wow that’s your response to your husband being in pain?”

“he’s not in pain” you dismiss him, dropping your phone and untangling yourself from him to head to the bathroom. He sits up and watches you curiously

“where are you going Y/N” “To get something to take your mind of the mask” your muffled voice replies as you emerge a few seconds with his hair oiling kit.

You sit on the bed once more, your back resting against the headboard “sit” you tell him gesturing to between your legs.

He grins as he happily obliges “now this is what I’m talking about” you chuckle at his insistent hate for the face mask as you watch him settle between your legs, his head resting against your torso and his palms gripping your thighs.

You begin oiling and massaging his scalp causing him to let out little hums and noises of satisfaction, not even minutes later the noises stop and his body grows slack.

You chuckle as you lean over his head to see him fast asleep, you wait a couple minutes more before pulling the facemask off his face and gently dislodging yourself to lie beside him.

You hold him in your arms as you reach over to turn the bedside lamp off, kissing his forehead as you bid him goodnight in an unheard whisper.

Kento

You lay sprawled out on Nanami’s body, your chin propped up on his chest as you observed him read his book which was his usual night time routine.

Occasionally, Kento would glance at you and reach his hand out to stroke your cheek softly, his little way of making sure you weren’t bored. He did this even though you assured him multiple times that his handsome face was more than enough to entertain you.

“Ken”

“Yes my love?”

“I just realized….” Kento raises his eyebrows as you trail off, dropping his book to give you his undivided attention.

“you realized what sweetheart?”

“I just realized you’re a blondie” you muse, your hands reaching up to feel his soft blonde hair.

He stares at you for a few seconds before shaking his head, laughing softly “that’s not a bad thing is it love?”

“absolutely not, its adorable”

he hums, his fingers reaching out to stroke your soft cheek again “well as long as you find it redeeming then I’m more than happy to be a ‘blondie’” You chuckle as your fingers begin to card through his hair in a rhythm now, stroking the soft locks that are usually pushed back during the day.

“we should get you pink hairclips to match the aesthetic”

“of course sweetheart, you can use my card”.

You huff out a laughter as you retract your hands from his hair, resting your cheek against his chest now as your exhaustion began to catch up on you. “that easily?”

kento pats your head before putting a bookmark in the page he was reading, deciding he was done for the night “there isn’t a lot I wouldn’t do for you my love” he whispers softly as he pulls you closer, his hands moving down to draw gentle patterns on your back.

Your eyes flutter open as you quickly respond sleepily “I would do a lot for you too ken”

He chuckles at your barely coherent sleep laced sentence, his hands moving to slip under your shirt to enable him skin to skin contact. You hum appreciatively as you fall more and more asleep, his hands always knowing exactly what to do to lull you to sleep.

He places a soft kiss in your hair before reaching over to turn off the light. “Goodnight sweetheart”.

Am I the only one that loves reading fluff bedtime scenarios before I go to bed? Anyways, here is some jjk bedtime fluff while I write part two of my Itachi arranged marriage series. I will definitely do more scenarios in the future with more characters, the next one might be angst like an argument because I'm addicted to hurt to comfort, please send help.

Feel free to check out my other Jujutsu Kaisen fics and more stories!

[gingerteafairy]

“more rodrick fics!” me and the crowd yell in unison

say no more, rodrick's back

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

rodrick heffley x reader

summary: Rodrick feels bad for being dyslexic, but you're always there to support him. tags n warnings: fluff, college!rodrick, maybe a little angst and low self esteem, dyslexia.word count: 1.5k masterlist

A/N: one of my best friends is dyslexic, so i thought about her doing this. she believes in canon dyslexic rodrick lmao

What wouldn’t a human do to rack up extra hours for their college resume? Once again, you and Rodrick found yourselves sitting through a lecture you didn’t even know the topic of.

On stage, an older woman spoke with the confidence of someone in the middle of a great dream, refusing to wake up. The audience, on the other hand, looked like they were trapped in a never-ending nightmare.

Rodrick, already slouched in his seat, pulled out his phone and started typing, subtly gesturing for you to do the same.

Rod: This lecture sucks. Get me out of hereeeeee.

You: So boring. I don’t think she even knows what she’s talking about. She keeps asking if she’s making sense or if she’s right.

Rod: you actually paying attention to this shyt?

You: I would be if I weren’t distracted by the fact that she’s wearing a leopard print dress, a neon green belt, and hot pink boots.

Rodrick lowered his phone slightly, glancing up at the woman on stage.

Rod: That’s stile right there. You got any woter?

You: Woter?

Rod: Yeah, woter. The liquid that kills thrust.

You: THRUST

Rod: OH MY GOD. Watter and thirst.

You: AAAAAAAAA.

Rodrick widened his eyes and smacked his forehead with his palm.

Rod: Doesn’t matter. You know I’m epileptic.

You: You mean dyslexic?

Rod: No, that’s a soda.

You nearly choked on your laugh, quickly covering your mouth to avoid drawing attention.

You: Dyslexia is when someone has trouble reading and writing. Epilepsy is seizures.

Rod: Ure just making up words now. My psichrist told me it’s epilepsy.

You: Considering what you do with drumsticks, I kinda see it.

Rod: stfu, you’re being a idiot.

You: How did you even get into college?

Rodrick smirked, lazily draping an arm over the back of his chair.

Rod: Because you woudn’t suvive with out me.

You: So you rigged the tests?

Rod: Anything for my wondrfu girlfriend.

Rodrick finally glanced away from his phone to look at you. His smirk softened before he leaned in and pressed a slow, unhurried kiss to your cheek. Then, he lowered his phone and scanned the room. The auditorium was empty enough that no one cared what you two were doing.

Picking up his phone again, he typed:

Rod: Looks like this thing wraping up. Wanna go get an amburger?

You: Let’s go now. We already signed in at the entrance.

Rodrick nodded in approval, shoving his phone into his pocket as he stood up. He waited for you to step ahead, then grabbed your hand, fingers intertwining with yours as you walked toward the parking lot.

The campus was quiet—the other students were probably skipping the lecture entirely or napping somewhere.

When you reached the van, Rodrick unlocked the door and pulled it open, pausing before getting in.

“Hey, what did you put for letter three?” he asked, furrowing his brows.

“For the test?” You held back a laugh as you caught the small mistake and slid into the passenger seat.

“Yeah. I think I got it totally wrong. Why do we still have math in college anyway?” He shook his head, turning the key in the ignition. “I mean… we still have that thing with the number lines.”

“You mean Roman numerals?” You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms with an amused smile.

Rodrick rolled his eyes dramatically, throwing his head back against the seat.

“Yeah. There’s this crowd pleaser in my class who wrote the test questions in Roman numerals. Everyone laughed at him.”

“Wow, that’s mean.” You bit your lip to keep from laughing.

Rodrick waved his hands around dramatically before dropping them onto the steering wheel.

“There’s something wrong with that kid. He asked me what LII was like I’m an idiot.”

You tilted your head, curious. “And what did you do?”

He let out an exasperated sigh, like he was still annoyed about it.

“Told him to quit being a psychopath making up numbers. That one doesn’t even exist. I know because numbers only go up to XX. High School biology.”

You widened your eyes, barely holding in your laughter. "I never made that connection before. You must be a genius."

Rodrick, clearly pleased with himself, puffed out his chest and stretched his arms as if he were carrying the weight of immense knowledge on his back.

"A lot of geniuses were dyslexic. I looked it up on ChatGPT." He paused dramatically, resting his hands on the steering wheel before shooting you a serious look. "By the way, I love being born in this era. I have no idea how I’d survive without ChatGPT."

You laughed, leaning slightly toward him.

"So I guess you hate those people who say they were born in the wrong generation."

Rodrick groaned, throwing his head back once again.

"Totally. As if these kids wouldn’t be glued to their phones no matter what era they lived in." He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "At least I’m honest about my eight hours of screen time."

You raised an eyebrow, pretending to be surprised.

"I never realized you were on your phone that much."

Rodrick scratched the back of his neck, glancing out the window like he was reluctant to admit something.

"It's just... when you're not with me, I kinda get stuck on it."

Warmth spread through your chest at his confession. You smiled and reached out, gently touching his chin to turn his face toward you.

"You’re such a sweetheart, you know that?"

Rodrick blinked a few times, looking caught off guard. He opened his mouth to say something but hesitated, his gaze flickering down to the dashboard before meeting yours again.

"Don’t you ever feel bad about dating someone so…" He took a deep breath, swallowing hard. "...so dumb?"

Your smile disappeared instantly.

"Dumb?" You furrowed your brows, leaning in slightly.

Rodrick pressed his lips together, staring at the steering wheel. He shook his head, like he already knew you were going to deny it but still couldn’t fully believe it himself.

"Rodrick, you're not dumb. You just have more trouble reading. That doesn’t make you stupid."

He let out a long sigh, his shoulders sinking as if he’d been carrying that thought for a while.

"It’s not that... I don’t know. You’re so smart, and I just keep messing things up all the time." His voice was lower now, almost like he was talking more to himself than to you.

You slid your hand over his, which rested on the steering wheel, and slowly intertwined your fingers, giving a firm squeeze.

"You’re sweet for ignoring my mistakes and not making fun of me," he murmured. "But sometimes, I feel like you’re just lying to make me feel better."

Without hesitation, you squeezed his hand tighter.

"Rodrick, I love you." Your voice was steady, leaving no room for doubt. "And that’s never going to change. Never let this make you feel less than you are."

Rodrick lifted his eyes slowly, like he was trying to fully absorb your words. A small, almost hesitant smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Then, without saying anything, he brought your hand to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss against it, closing his eyes for a moment.

He stayed like that for a while, just gently brushing his thumb over the back of your hand, as if he wanted to hold on to this moment forever.

"You know when I realized I was in love with you?" he asked, locking eyes with you.

"When?" You leaned in closer, curiosity shining in your gaze.

“When I asked if you wanted to see my dick and I said duck.” He beamed, intertwining your hands with his. “Seriously, you didn’t break the mood or anything, you just laughed and kept going. That was, like, the nicest thing anyone’s ever done to me.”

“It was kinda cute tho.” You smiled, playing with his hands. “The only thing cuter than when you saw a cat and said you were petting a pussy.”

"Oh, okay. You might as well run me over with a truck now."

He threw his hands up in an exaggerated gesture before covering his face with both palms, as if he wanted to disappear from existence.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter. A loud, uncontrollable laugh bubbled up from your chest, filling the van.

Rodrick froze for a second, narrowing his eyes as a dramatic sigh slipped from his lips. Slowly, he peeled his hands away from his face, the corners of his mouth twitching into a satisfied smirk.

"At least my epilepsy makes you laugh."

You rolled your eyes, still laughing, and tilted your head to the side, letting it rest against the seat.

"It's always good to see the bright side of things."

Rodrick watched you for a moment, his gaze softening. Then, he leaned in slowly, his hand trailing up to your face, cold fingers barely grazing your cheek before gently pulling you into a quick, but affectionate, kiss.

"Guess not everything about me is a disaster."

[rztaros]

: stains & complaints

synopsis. a night filled with laughter and messes. pairing. clarisse la rue x fem!r genre. fluff wc. 600+ now playing. infrunami by steve lacy . . . 💿 notes. 💬 lowercase intended + flirty clarisse

the two girls were sprawled on the cabin floor, sitting besides each other so closely together that their knees were touching, and clarisse could feel whenever y/n exhaled after holding her breath as she did her makeup.

"stop moving."

"i'm not!" clarisse whisper shouted, trying to avoid waking up her siblings. you'd toss the used makeup wipe to the side, bringing the eyeliner pen back up to clarisse's closed eye.

your hand would already start to cramp as you desperately tried to keep your movements steady. this had already been the fourth time in trying to mirror the simple design you had already drawn on clarisse's other eye, but her eyelid kept fluttering and forcing the pen's felt tip off its course—just like how it did now.

you moved back with an irritated huff to look at your girlfriend after messing up once again, but all frustration immediately disappeared and was replaced by laughter.

"what are you doing?" clarisse would just burst into laughter seeing the incredulous look on your face, causing you to laugh as well.

"i just want to look at my beautiful girlfriend, but you're taking too long!" clarisse would exclaim under her breath, pouting.

"well, i would've been done quicker if you just kept both of your eyes shut! you're makin' me mess up," and with a huff, clarisse finally shut both of her eyes, resting her hands over your thighs as she waited for you to finish. the touch reminded both of you how close you guys were to each other, causing your hearts to beat like crazy.

as you wiped off the messed up line, you'd be able to draw the second wing on successfully, allowing you to finally move on to the final step.

looking down at the pile of various makeup products scattered around you guys on the floor, you suddenly remembered something, "oh! i got a new lipstick that i got the other day, can i try it on you?” you'd ask eagerly as the corners of your mouth quirked up.

clarisse hastily nodded her head, leading to you jumping up to grab it from your bag. you'd rummaged through your bag, and once you dug out the lipstick, you'd turn around seeing clarisse staring up at you lovingly from the floor.

"what?" you'd ask with a shy chuckle.

"it's just… you look really pretty wearin' my clothes." you look down at the sweater clarisse insisted you'd wear. you would keep your head down, hiding your gentle smile and sit across from clarisse once more.

you would quickly leave a peck on clarisse's lips and swiftly began coating her lips with the muted pink-color lipstick before the other girl could question the sudden kiss.

"okay," you'd clap, scooting back to get a clearer view of clarisse's entire face, "i think i'm done!" you'd pass a small hand mirror to clarisse, letting the girl see the finished look.

clarisse gasps at her reflection. of course, she knew you were talented just by observing you do your own makeup, but seeing your skills showcased on her own face was just wow, and in other words, impressive. clarisse immediately tosses the mirror to the side and pulls you closer again to place multiple short kisses on your cheeks.

pulling back, clarisse laughs seeing the pink lip prints that she left on your cheeks. picking the mirror back up and turning it towards herself, you began laughing as well from both the feeling of clarisse's lips on your skin and the sight of the transferred lipstick on your own face.

remembering the late hour, the ares' daughter would quickly put her finger to her lip, shushing the both of you. but seeing the smeared lipstick around clarisse's lips only made you laugh harder, so you covered your mouth with your hands to prevent more laughter from escaping while more and more pink marks were left all over your face.

'cause i was blind to see

that you were right in front of me

[springtyme]

You asked for Spencer-centric thoughts, and i shall deliver!

You cannot tell me that that during quarantine, reader and husband spencer didn’t do a wordle and the nyt mini crossword first thing in the morning. I just imagine r just doing it one day and technophobe spence absolutely clueless, yet intrigued and immediately getting hooked on them.

Anyways, thanks for helping all the hot people stay delusional xoxo

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ♡

Spencer Reid x reader || Masterlist || Spencer playlist

Omg, anon, your mind!!! this is just simply *chefs kiss 😙👌 and totally something husband!Spencer would do! (Ugh, I need him so bad!) and I'm always down to keep the hotties delusional 💕 thank you so much for sending this in, lovie!

word count: 1.3k

The sun peeks through the curtains, casting a warm golden glow across the bedroom where you lie in bed, still under the covers. It is another day of quarantine, another day of uncertainty and isolation. But thankfully, you are not alone.

Spencer, your husband of three years, is fast asleep next to you, his messy hair spread out on the pillow and his lips slightly parted. You can’t help but smile at the sight of him, so peaceful and serene in his slumber. 

With a sleepy smile, you grab your phone, there is still over half an hour till your alarm goes off. That is one of the nicer things that has come out of this whole ordeal, the extra time in the morning now that you have to work from home, and all the extra time you get to spend with Spencer is so precious to you. 

You can’t help but snap a quick picture of him as he lays there, he looks so peaceful and relaxed, and it is moments like these that you want to capture and keep forever, smiling to yourself as you make it your new home screen. 

You quickly scroll through your notifications, checking in on the latest news and messages before opening up the Wordle app. As you begin to fill in the letters, Spencer begins to slowly stir beside you. “Morning,” he murmurs before letting out a little yawn.

You look over at him, his eyes still half closed. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” you say with a chuckle, leaning over to plan a soft kiss on his cheek. Spencer grumbles in response, still half-asleep but clearly enjoying the affection.

He stretches languidly, his arm brushing against yours, sending a spark of warmth through you. “What time is it?” he asks, rubbing his eyes.

“It’s still early,” you reply, showing him the screen of your phone. “We have some time before we need to get up.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Spencer mumbles, leaning into your touch as you run your fingers through his tousled hair with your nondominant hand while you continue to play the game, occasionally glancing over at Spencer as he slowly wakes up. The sunlight fills the room more and more, illuminating the warmth of the moment between the two of you.

“What are you up to?” he asks, as he finally opens his eyes fully, looking at the phone screen curiously.

You chuckle softly as he squints his eyes to better see the colorful grid of letters on your phone.“It’s just this word game I'm playing. I have to guess a five-letter word in six tries, and it gives me feedback on each guess. It’s pretty fun, actually. You wanna try?”

Spencer nods, still somewhat confused but willing to give it a try. You hand him the phone, and he furrows his brow in concentration as he studies the letters on the screen. After a few moments of contemplation, he tentatively enters his first guess. You watch with amusement as he receives the feedback and starts to strategize his next move, sitting himself up to rest his back against the headboard, reaching for his glasses on the bedside table.  

You can’t help but smile at his focus, his dedication to this simple word game making you love him even more. As he continues to guess and receive feedback, you snuggle closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Wow, you’re good at this,” you comment, it never never ceases to amaze you how his brilliant mind can adapt to new challenges with such ease.

“I guess all those hours of reading dictionaries finally paid off,” he jokes, chuckling at his own nerdiness.

He quickly finishes the game and looks at you triumphantly, a proud smile on his face, clearly pleased with himself. You laugh, giving him a congratulatory kiss on the cheek. “Good job, smarty pants,” you tease, feeling grateful for these simple moments of joy and connection with your husband. 

“Can I do another one?” he asks eagerly, his eyes bright with excitement.

“Sorry, babe, there is only one a day, you’ll have to wait till tomorrow”you say, ruffling his hair playfully. “But we can play together again tomorrow morning if you want.” 

Spencer pouts exaggeratedly, but then shrugs with a smile. “Alright, I’ll hold you to that.” 

“But the New York Times has a crossword puzzle we can do together if you want,” you suggest, knowing how much Spencer loves a good challenge. His eyes light up at the mention of the crossword puzzle, and he eagerly agrees.  

“You think I can get that Wordle thing on my phone too?” Spencer asks, reaching for his own phone, which he usually only uses for phone calls and texting, despite him being a walking oracle of knowledge not very tech-savvy and not very fond of technology. 

You laugh at his eagerness, nodding in approval. “Of course, I’ll help you get it set up,” you say, enjoying his enthusiasm. You can’t help but smile as the device lights up, the lock screen displaying a picture of the two of you on your last vacation, arms around each other, smiling brightly into the camera.

As you show Spencer how to download the app and set it up on his phone, you feel a surge of gratitude for the life you have built together. Despite the challenges of quarantine and the uncertainty of the future, you find solace in the warmth of your relationship and the simple joy of spending time with each other.

With the app up and running on Spencer’s phone, you both settle back against the pillows, ready to tackle the crossword puzzle together. As you work through the clues and fill in the boxes, you can’t help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. The worries and stresses of the outside world fade away, replaced by the simple pleasure of being with the person you love.

The room fills with the sound of your laughter and playful banter as you work together to solve the puzzle. Spencer’s intelligence and wit never fail to impress you, and you feel fortunate to have him by your side, especially during these trying times.

After successfully completing the crossword puzzle, you both set aside your phone and cuddle up together, enjoying the comfort of each other’s presence before you eventually have to get up and join your zoom meetings.

As you snuggle closer to Spencer, feeling the warmth of his body next to yours, you can’t help but appreciate the love and companionship you share. “I’m so grateful that it is you that I’m stuck with,” you say softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. 

Spencer turns to look at you, his eyes soft with affection. “I feel the same way, my love,” he replies, reaching out to intertwine his fingers with yours, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to your lips. You lean into the kiss, feeling a rush of love and gratitude wash over you. “But we better get up and start our day,” Spencer says, reluctantly pulling away from you. You nod in agreement, not wanting to leave the comfort of the bed but knowing that the he is right.

With a shared sigh, you both get out of bed and start your morning routines, enjoying the simple moments of togetherness as you go about your day. The sun continues to shine through the windows, casting a warm glow over your home as you and Spencer get through the day. 

And as the day comes to a close, you both settle back in bed, falling asleep in each other’s arms, the warmth of your love and companionship surrounding you like a protective shield. And as you drift off to sleep, you know that as long as you have each other, you can face whatever life throws your way.

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Fixing Bad Dreams

masterlist

summary: without even realizing, you’ve been using your powers to turn butcher’s bad dreams into good ones.

pairing: billy butcher x female supe!reader

rating: R for language

word count: 1.4k

warnings: language, talk of sex

timeline: set after season 3

gif source

When Butcher had realized you were a Supe, obviously his first thought was that he had to kill you. But he soon realized you weren’t like the others. Not in a “oh she’s still a good person” way, but in a “wow she’s fucking weak, she’s basically still human” way. It was true. Essentially all you could do was send telepathic messages to people. That was it. (You also had a slight healing factor, but even that wasn’t very strong.) You couldn’t read minds, you couldn’t move things with your mind, you were barely a Supe.

Or, maybe he was just trying to justify sleeping with you. Whether he’d admit it or not, he really liked sleeping with you. Not just the sex, he liked physically sleeping next to you. With you. He’d sleep best when it was next to you. He wouldn’t wake up in a cold sweat, he wouldn’t have nightmares about watching his wife die bloody.

Most of the time, you woke up before him. You’d find his shirt from the night before and put it on, along with your panties if you could find them. Although, Butcher tended to rip your more delicate ones.

As you tiptoed around the room looking for where he had thrown your underwear you heard him mumble something in his sleep. You hurried next to him, his brows furrowed as he clenched the sheets in tight fists.

You held his cheek, bent down, and kissed his forehead. That always calmed him right down, you didn’t know why. And it did just that; he unclenched his fists, unfurrowed his brows, and let out a soft breath of air.

You smiled at the thought. The great William Butcher like forehead kisses in his sleep. That’s what calmed him down.

He stirred awake shortly after, seeing you looking around the room still.

“Mornin’ love,” He yawned. “What’re you lookin’ for?”

“Good morning,” You smiled and walked over to him, taking a seat on the bed. “You sleep okay?” You ran a hand through his hair then down his cheek, stopping to bend down and kiss him sweetly.

“Great, love,” He smiled. “Was havin’ a bit of a nightmare but it turned into us making out in the office the other day.”

“Really?” You furrowed your brows a little.

“Yeah, why?”

“Uh…no reason,” You shook your head a little.

“So, what were you looking for?” He asked, intentionally changing the subject.

“Where the hell did you throw my panties last night?” You asked, turning to glance around the room. He reached under his pillow and pulled out what you’d been looking for.

“I may have hid ‘em so you’d make me breakfast without wearin’ ‘em,” He smirked.

“All you had to do was ask,” You smiled. You leaned down and kissed him again before you stood up. “Bacon and eggs ‘ll be ready in a few minutes, come meet me in the kitchen?”

“I’ll be right there.”

**

“You seem to be in a good mood this morning,” Butcher chuckled a few days later. You walked up to him cooking pancakes, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Smells amazing,” You hummed. You got on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

As you sat down at the table you let out a soft laugh.

“Okay, seriously, why’re you in such a good mood?”

“Why shouldn’t I be?” You shrugged.

“Cause the A/C stopped working halfway through the night and we both lost a good two hours of sleep?” He raised a brow.

“Remember last summer? We went to that water park with Hughie and the others after the tests came back negative and you were cancer free?”

“Yeah, what about it?” He turned to look at you fully, suddenly very interested in each word you said.

“After the A/C went out I had the best, most intense dream about it! I mean, the smell of the chlorine in the wave pool, the sound of those birds that kept trying to take your fries, everything!”

“Huh…I’ll be fuckin’ damned,” Butcher mumbled, a huge smile plastered on his face.

“What?”

“Nothin’ love, I remember that day too.”

**

Grass so green it looked fake, the sky so blue and clouds so perfect it all looked like a Bob Ross painting. Birds chirped in the trees as Butcher dipped down and kissed you again.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” He smiled. He rubbed his hand up and down your thigh, under your floral dress.

A picnic in the park with William Butcher. A fucking dream come true.

The cruel sound of the alarm jolted you awake. Butcher stretched his arm out and over you, hitting the snooze button.

“Perfect fucking timing,” He grumbled. “I think I was about to get lucky.”

“Me too, actually,” You laughed a little. “Guess we’ll have to make it up to each other.”

**

“Hey, let’s eat breakfast outside,” Butcher suggested.

“You hate eating outside?” You laughed a little. You took a sip of your coffee as you watched Butcher cook breakfast.

“Don’t be silly! On occasion, picnics can be fun!”

“P-Picnics?” You furrowed your brows. “What gave you that idea?”

“Just a dream I had.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck! Were you putting thoughts in his head? Messing with his dreams enough that it influenced his life when he was awake? How else were you messing with his head?

“Earth to Y/n!” Butcher pulled you out of your head.

“Huh?”

“I said food’s ready. Now, c’mon, get off your ass and eat outside with me.”

“Okay,” You smiled, hiding how worried you actually were.

You followed him out to the balcony overlooking the busy city.

“So what was your dream?” He asked when you both sat down at the outside table.

“Wh-What dream?” You asked.

“Remember? We both woke up to the alarm, both said we were about to get lucky in our dreams, and then we had earth-shattering morning sex. So, what was your dream?”

“I- I don’t really remember it…now all I’m thinking about is the earth-shattering morning sex,” You smirked a little.

“Ah ha!” He matched your expression, but added a sense of pride. “That’s my job, love.”

**

“Butcher, we need to talk,” You said later that night. He was ready for bed and already under the covers.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, brows knitted with concern.

“I- I don’t think I sh-should sleep with you anymore,” You replied, tears in your eyes.

“You’re breaking up with me? Why?”

“No! I- I fucking love you and that why I need to get as far away from you as fucking possible!”

“Y/n, you’re not makin’ any sense,” He got out of bed and walked up to you. You backed away from him, shaking your head.

“I- I’ve been- I think I’ve been messing with your h-head somehow,” You let the tears fall. “Not on purpose, I swear! But I- I’ve been controlling your dreams, so who knows how else I’ve been controlling you!”

“I know about the dreams.”

“What?”

“I figured it out a couple weeks ago. You were going into detail about a dream you had the night before, and it was the same dream I had.”

“Why didn’t you say something! Butcher I could be completely controlling you! You probably don’t even really want to fucking be here! Fuck!” You put your hands on your head.

“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want you to act how you’re acting right now. I knew you weren’t doing it on purpose, otherwise you wouldn’t have told me your dream.”

“B-But what if…”

“What if what, Y/n? You really think you could accidentally force me to love you?” He took a few steps closer to you, this time you didn’t back away. You nodded. “Alright, how ‘bout this. Right now, try your absolute hardest to make me do something.” He put his hands on your shoulders and touched his forehead to yours. “Go on, use your powers on me.”

“I’m trying!” You exclaimed. You really were, but he was right; you weren’t nearly strong enough to mind-control someone. You let out a breath of relief. “Fuck, that would’ve been a fucking nightmare!”

“Well, good thing that’s your specialty then, love. Turning nightmares into the best fuckin’ dreams I could ask for.”

“I love you, Butcher,” You smiled and he did the same.

“I love ya, too,” He mumbled as he kissed your lips.

[ren4ever]

DEBT COLLECTOR (draft/drabbles)

TW: drugging, non con, dub con, degradation?, contains sexual content(writing)

He doesn’t want to hurt you but now he doenst have a choice.

An hour ago you were just texting your online friends while grabbing a snack at the convenience store. You really liked this one online friend of yours natt, unrequitedly he didn’t seem interested in you after all he already rejected you twice. Why can’t you just move on??? This silly online friendship is turning you mad.

You despise this, only if you could block everyone and— only to be blinded by nostalgia.

And now before you even know it you were getting chased down by some armed, masked, hooded guy

This startled your senses and you Immediately started sprinting to the police station

The hooded man notices you bolting for the police station and speeds up, closing the distance between you with every step. Your breath is coming in sharp gasps

Everything is so dark, and not a single store is open you already tried knocking at someones house but there’s no avail, no response. this only slows you down even more.

“PLEASE JUST.. huff.. STOP CHASING.. huff.. ME SIR YOUR… huff… SCARING ME!!!!!!!!”

(Still running) you turn around, no one? Suddenly he appears infront of you, you stop dead on your track and wanted to turn around

His glove covered hands lifts up and you feel something heavy clanking down on your head, He knocked you out with his heavy metal glock.

Once you wake up you notice, your strapped onto a chair in a dimly lit room, the lightbulp is barely holding up and flickers once a while

You try to move only to get hurt by the tight, rough robes

“oh your awake?” “Well no shit I AM AND—“

He covers your mouth “Shh.. shh my boss will kill me if he gets any disturbance while he’s asleep” He lets his hand go when you finally stopped screaming

“.….?” “Look I’ll let you go if you give me the debt you owe us and then I’ll go talk to my boss to let you go ^^” “debt? What DEBT?“ “Aha.. your so funny.”

you stare at him confusingly “I think you’ve got the wrong person”

“Pfft… wrong person? Nah, I’ve been on your trail from the start, I don’t mess up. Now quit playing and hand over the money.”

“I never took or spend money from anyone What the hell do you mean I owe someone money????”

He sighs in disbelief “Enough with your blathering”

He takes off his hood and ruffles through his hair, you notice that his features are quite similair to natt

You accidentally mumbled “natt” subconsciously And he heard it, he stops with everything with what he was doing and stares at you, his brows furrowed confusingly

“What? What did you just say?? How did you…”

“It’s (y/n online name)”

“Hah… haha… wow. Mannn… for real?”

You nod

“…you’re in big, big trouble, y/n. Why’d you do this to yourself? I knew you were stupid, but this?”

“I still don’t get what you mean!!??”

“look y/n you owe this company big bucks alright? i dont know where or how this happened from but all I know is you did this”

“?????”

“I know, I know. I really, really wish I could help you with this one, but uh… I just can’t. I’m their top dog, if you know what I mean.”

He unties you, forcefully dragged you to his bedroom and then threw you on his bed

He grips your arm, his other hand pulling open a drawer. Smoothly, he lifts out a camera Setting it up just a few centimeters away, perfectly positioned between the two of you.

“And I’m very loyal to my boss…”

He starts tearing your clothes apart

“N-Natt..? What.. are you doing?!” “I’m sorry.” He gives you a quick peck on your forehead, he then pulls a small black plastic bag from his pocket, eyeing you carefully as he holds it up.

He opens the bag, pulls out a pill, and tries shoving it down your throat. You push back with your hands, gasping, “N-no… NO!”

You don’t know what contains in that pill, but one thing’s for sure you do not want to consume THAT.

He just chuckles, before forcing the pill down your throat. You start feeling fuzzy “I don’t feel so well..” “Ofcourse you aren’t, you just consumed drugs.” “You cough wha—“ You’re so confused, dazed, and scared. Why the hell is Natt working for this company? The questions swirl in your mind, but everything’s blurry, and you’re struggling to keep it together.

he gently took your last piece off Until your just in your undergarments You weakly protest, he kissed all over your neck

“It’ll all be over soon, I promise.”

With every ounce of strength left in you, you manage to kick him right in the groin. He yelps, but his grip doesn’t loosen.

“Hah.. feisty as always, so adorable.” He lets you go for a split second so he could unzip his pants……

Since I idk how to write smut I’ll just write a short head cannon instead

NATT:

🤍 Moans your name ALOT during intimacy 🤍 likes groping and being all touchy with you 🤍 calls you cute, feisty, adorable (hates calling you a slut though) 🤍 hates orals, he does not want your pretty, perky, sweet lips on his dirty dick 🤍 Is NOT gentle. (Maybe In the beginning but he’ll go crazily feral during intimacy. HE. CANT. CONTROL. HIMSELF.) 🤍 very sadistic man loves it when you cry or beg 🤍 degrades you subconsciously 🤍 paid a surgeon to put a tracker on you 🤍 LOVES gunplay 🤍 purposely overdose you with drugs and overstimulate you 🤍 suprisingly hes a religious man ??? 🤍 loves StarWars lol

Thank you for reading <3333

[stereopticons]

On This Day in Schitt's Creek: March 7

2018

Holding On [david/patrick, T, 1,107] by whoaaitsmichelle

SPOILERS FOR 4.07 Basically a fix it fic for the end of the episode.

2019

One Week [david/patrick, E, 51,513] by lettered

Every day of the first week of David and Patrick's relationship.

2020

my mind is set on you [david/patrick, T, 3,642] by @kiranerys42

David and Patrick end up having a sleepover after all.

Summer is More Than Freedom [david/patrick, E, 46,691] by @eponymiad @ships-to-sail

“My family, um. We — they — actually own the camp?” “Oh,” is all Patrick says, and it’s a two-letter word with two million meanings and David doesn’t know how he’s supposed to hear it when it comes out of Patrick’s mouth. “That’s, um. Wow.” “What ‘wow’?” “I’ve just never met anyone whose parents owned a summer camp before.” “It’s a camp, not the diamond from Titanic.” “The what?” *David and Patrick spend six summers together, first as campers, then as counselors, always as best friends.

Surprised [david/patrick, T, 11,624] by @delilah-mcmuffin

What if Johnny never inadvertently outed Patrick at the start of Meet the Parents? How would things have gone down?

To The Great Unknown [david/patrick, M, 75,956] by @deenerann

Alternate Universe- David owns a gay bar in New York. Patrick mistakenly stumbles into it on his first day there. It's the best mistake he ever made.

2021

Cause you're there for me, too [david/patrick, G, 3,438] by @designatedgrape

“Um, why did Alexis send you a package?” Patrick pulls out the layers of paper meant to protect whatever it is during shipping, and reveals a white coffee mug with black lettering. “Oh my god,” he breathes. “What?” Patrick lifts the mug reverently out of the box and presents it to David. David rears back in horror. “She’s dead.”

Desperate Times [david/patrick, T, 5,100] by @trueillusion82

It started in the middle of the night, with a soft whine that roused Patrick from sleep. But Patrick was a light sleeper and David was a talker who was also prone to nightmares, so that was nothing unusual. Patrick was used to providing comfort in the wee hours of the morning, be it because of a bad dream or an anxiety attack, or anything in between. “Hey,” Patrick said softly as he flicked on the bedside lamp and rolled over to face his husband, his hand already gravitating toward David’s arm. “You okay?” Normally, David’s response would be to give a short, quick nod, despite the tightly closed eyes and occasional tears that always belied his answer. This time, however, there was no nod -- only another pained groan as David squeezed his eyes shut and curled even further in on himself.

Equatorial Guinea [gen, G, 300] by Rosey_Peach

Gossip is the devil's telephone [david/patrick, T, 4,555] by @grapehyasynth

Meet the Parents redux - David and Patrick really are just business partners, even though the entire town seems to think they're secretly dating. When the Brewers come to town for Patrick's birthday, Johnny's just trying to find out if they know anything about that whole situation. Turns out they knew even less than he did.

I Want Them To Know [stevie & david, T, 1,761] by @agoodpersonrose

“I have to tell you something.” Stevie comes out to two of the most important people in her life.

Kiss me in the morning [david/patrick, T, 499] by @lastchancecafe13

David planned to take full advantage of this chance to wake up together. He kept his eyes closed, luxuriating in the late morning sun. He pulled his husband’s warm, compact, body against him and snuggled into their shared pillow. Patrick shifted and let out a sleepy sigh but he didn’t move to get up. David let his hand trace an abstract pattern across Patrick’s chest as his own mind wandered. _____________________ Just some soft morning husbands.

my breath and my heart (got taken by you) [david/patrick, T, 1,826] by @blackandwhiteandrose

David shifts his weight from foot to foot, squirming like an impatient child. Something about the way Patrick is looking at him has him pinned in place, unable to break away from the intensity of his gaze. He doesn’t even know how to interpret what he’s seeing, because he’s sure no one has ever looked at him like that before.

the missing piece i need [david/patrick, G, 1,021] by @swiftlythebest

Everything's the same except Patrick sings the Camp Rock classic, Gotta Find You, at the open mic night.

2022

[Podfic] The Last Rose Video [david/patrick, M, podfic] by Amanita_Fierce

Patrick Brewer is the owner of the last Rose Video in the world in the tiny town of Schitt's Creek. His life and his business are turned upside down when David Rose is sent by his father to close the store for good. A temporary truce and a growing attraction have the potential to forever alter the future of the store and the men involved. Podfic of The Last Rose Video by Distractivate.

A Life Extraordinary [david/patrick, G, 1,270] by @fictasticvoyage

It's Patrick's birthday! He and David take a trip to celebrate.

i'll be loving you if you just dare me [david/patrick, M, 5,586] by @simplymarleycat

After his Blouse Barn windfall, David treats himself to a weekend of clubbing (and maybe a random or two) in Toronto before he decides his next steps in Schitt's Creek. But when things don't go quite to plan, a chance meeting might just send David on a new and better path. A meet-cute (and a couple other tropes) about changing plans, daring yourself to be honest, and finally going for what you want.

Surface Tension [david/patrick, E, 6,894] by @im-televisions-moira-rose

Patrick watches him and waits to hear the bathroom door shut before following, legs still a little numb. He grabs another towel from the linen closet and then, once in his room, spreads it on the bed, laying the jacket carefully on top of it and flipping on his ceiling fan, using the pull cord to turn it to its highest setting. Then he steps back from the bed as it picks up speed, leaning against his dresser and scrubbing his hands over his face; there’s an eighty percent chance that he humiliates himself completely before this is all over. David Rose is naked in his bathroom. David Rose is wet and naked in his bathroom. He might never recover from this. David gets caught in a sudden downpour and ends up on Ray's doorstep.

you, emboldened you [david/patrick, T, 2,466] by AnnieMallistic

I know that this wasn’t brand new for you. You’d already asked somebody else. The secret I continue to keep is that it wasn’t new ground for me either. In this, we are not each other’s first. But we are each other’s second chance. A David introspection wherein someone else proposed to him in his youth

2023

[Art] is this too much of a #thirsttrap? [gen, T, art] by @lizzie-bennetdarcy

A scene from nontoxic's "I'd Swing With You for the Fences". David's Instagram #thirsttrap for Patrick

Enter Left [david/patrick, G, script] by mallpretzles

A transcript of David entering Patrick’s apartment inspired by I Love Lucy.

Hurried [david/patrick, M, 100] by @sspaz1000

After the I love you's, David and Patrick get some alone time at Rays.

Ink [david/patrick, G, 100] by @ramonaflow

100 words based on the Tumblr prompt: Ink

2024

Secretly Admiring You [david/patrick, NR, 9,103] by @vanillahigh00

David wants someone to care about him however is feeling pretty hopeless about finding his person while living in Schitt's Creek. The new guy in town is distracting David while someone else is trying to attract David's attention. Will he find his person?

Stats

No fanworks for 2017 2018: 1 fic/1,107 words 2019: 1 fic/51,513 words 2020: 4 fics/137,913 words 2021: 8 fics/18,500 words 2022: 5 fanworks (4 fics, 1 podfic)/16,411 words 2023: 4 fanworks (2 fics, 1 fanart, 1 script)/200 words 2024: 1 fic/9,103 words Total: 24 fanworks (21 fics, 1 podfic, 1 fanart, 1 script)/234,747 words

[weeeeeekly]

quarter life crisis – ot5 tomorrow x together x afab!reader

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊

blurb !!! Reincarnation can bring soulmates together despite their time apart. Being a huge fan of TOMORROW X TOGETHER helped you get through the struggles of entering early adulthood. You would thank them personally if you ever could but when you possibly get the chance it’s more than what you could ever hope for.

info !!! txt are still idols, reincarnation au, soulmates au, polyamory, throuple²… they’ll all eventually date each other, mc has mental health struggles, universe assigned lactose intolerance, team no kids, glasses wearer, lives in the middle of fuck nowhere but still a city (just go with it), pet names used are “our love” & princess, & not edited.

wc: 1.8k

WARNINGS !!! NSFW, MDNI, 18+, extremely self-indulgent, soft yandere!txt, mentions of mental health & self-harm (nothing graphic) for entire series

author’s note !!! This is fiction!!! this is made up!!! I do not condone breaking in, stalking, and other ulterior motives to get close to someone you are romantically interested in.

why are there not more ot5!txt x fem/afab or gender-neutral reader… mandatory note that i do not think txt act like this in real life. I also cannot come up with a blurb for the life of me, so please peep the info tags.

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊

CHAPTER TWO

The rest of the night consisted of tossing and turning due to the news. Not only were your legs restless but so was your mind. As it approaches the early hours of 3 AM, you truly do think you’re losing it as you swear you hear Huening Kai’s laugh through the walls. The laughing stops once you put your ear against the shared wall, you huff as you step down from the chair. The sound of the front door opening startles you to fall off the chair.

“What are you doing up?”

You look up from the floor to your roommate looking concerned at you.

“Thought I heard something, but it’s just my mind playing tricks on me.”

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊

After finally getting 2 hours of sleep, which was basically a nap, you thought a quick workout would help wake yourself up. It had been a while since you worked out before work but since you had a restless night hopefully walking on the treadmill will fix something.

You wish your roommate a good night as they go to bed to work the night shift again. As you’re locking the door, the neighbor’s door opens, and you’re greeted by the sight of Taehyun. Not just any Taehyun but just-woke-up-with-fluffy-hair-and-no-makeup Taehyun.

Oh, you were in trouble.

He waved at you as you will yourself to not embarrass yourself. You flash him a polite smile as you turn to walk towards the elevator when you hear him call out “wait up”. You pause as you turn around to see him walk up to you.

“Are you going to the gym too?”

You nod as you stare at his beautiful face. You’re surprised you haven’t started crying or shaking out of nervousness/excitedness, but you were running on 2 hours of sleep, half of an iced matcha latte, and pure adrenaline.

“Yeah, are going to box?”

Taehyun raises an eyebrow at you, so you immediately scramble for an explanation, “The gym here has expensive boxing equipment…”

“Oh, really?”

Taehyun smiles at you with his beautiful Taehyun smile and sparkly eyes that you feel your calm demeanor slipping away, “Oh wow would you look at the time! I got to go to work!”

“You have work at,” Taehyun checks his watch. “5:30 AM?”

“Yeah? I mean yeah. So, I’ll just–” You flash a quick smile and immediately turn around to head to the stairwell.

Taehyun stands where you left him wondering why you were in a hurry to get away from him, but the realization hits him as he rushes back to the shared apartment. He flings the door open to his members falling backwards from leaning against the door to eavesdrop.

“Hyung, the door is made of great wood!”

“You’re right!”

“Our love is a MOA.”

Yeonjun and Beomgyu shoot up from the floor as they talk over each other to ask questions to Taehyun about their soulmate. Soobin stays on the floor as a loopy smile graces his features as he comes up with baking ideas. Kai paces back and forth while on his phone, looking up date ideas nearby.

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊

“I saw the news.”

Your head whips around to see your boss looking at you sadly with a box of cookies. You shake your head as she approaches you to give you a hug. You freeze as you accept the hug as you stare in shock at the rest of coworkers standing behind her with a sign that says, “Sending Our Condolences”.

“What is happening?”

Your coworker that is closest in age to you speaks up, “Your favorite group.”

“This is really sweet and confusing, but they’re not like One Direction, they’ll be back.”

Everyone just sends you an even sadder look than your boss did as they pile the pity gifts into your arms. You stand silent after they head back to their offices to start the day. Your mind can’t move on from the thought that what if TXT doesn’t come back.

The thought looms over your head of what you would do if TXT aren’t coming back. If this is them silently disbanding. The thought spirals you so much that your heart feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest and tears are threatening to stream down your face. Before finding some solace in the farthest restroom from your desk, you quickly place the pity pile of gifts on your desk.

You have a legitimate reason to not be working on another massive spreadsheet and stare at a bunch of numbers at this very second. You are having a mental breakdown of sorts.

You keep your head lowered as you walk past offices down the hallways to get to your favorite secluded bathroom, nothing special to the average person but to you the pale-yellow walls with knock off van Gogh paintings meant everything to you. This was the last restroom in the building to not yet be demolished and renovated into an ugly, modern look, destroying any remnants of the past.

The version of yourself in the mirror is a sad one as red-rimmed eyes stare back behind your tear-stained glasses.

Fuck.

And suddenly, you feel like you’re 18 again. Back to winter break of senior year, extremely depressed due to the way school was going. Your grades were barely passing and having to keep studying to get any scholarships for college. Pushing all your friends away, crying in the bathroom, praying to any higher power in the universe to not let anyone walk by to hear or see your current state. Clutching your shirt with shaky hands as every negative thought is screaming inside your head.

The only difference is that you can’t go home and lock yourself in the bathroom in the early hours of the night to self-harm.

There’s only so much you can do to calm yourself down inside the tiny bathroom with two stalls, including the accessible stall, and sink counter. Pacing back and forth while counting your steps isn’t slowing your breathing and every time you look in the mirror you cry harder.

The guys sit around the new table and matching chairs they bought earlier after you left for work. Taehyun looks up from eating the bento box they ordered. Soobin tilts his head at his member’s weird reaction until they all sense it.

“Something’s… wrong and I think it’s our love.”

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊

The rest of your shift passed painstakingly slowly from your sluggish movements. It also didn’t help that your vision was blurred by the constant presence of tears threatening to fall.

The second the clock hit 4 PM, you shut the desktop off and slung your bag over your shoulder to rush out the building. You don’t remember driving home as your body went on autopilot, but next thing you know you’re in the elevator on the way up to your apartment.

The sad walk to your apartment door would have been like any other if it weren’t for your neighbor’s door opening and five heads poking out to jumpscare you.

You let out a shriek as the metal water bottle in your dominant hand is ready to be a makeshift weapon as Beomgyu and Taehyun let out matching shrieks.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

The harsh whisper leaves your mouth as you bend down to pick up your belongings that ended up on the floor from the startle. Soobin beats you to it as he hands you your bag and obnoxious keychain of your favorite childhood character that holds your keys. You thank him as his ears turn red from making physical contact with you.

You’re unlocking your door as the other four watch you with their undivided attention and the feeling makes you pause, “Wait…”

You slowly turn your head to look at them – Yeonjun smirking at you while trying to act cool by leaning against the doorframe, Soobin hiding behind the doorframe while covering his ears, Beomgyu smiling so hard that you’re afraid he might crack a tooth, Taehyun staring at you with his beautiful boba eyes like you offered the universe to him, and Kai giggling at your comically confused expression.

“We never introduced ourselves, but we’re your new neighbors! I’m Daniel, by the way.”

“Daniel” extends out a shaky hand towards you. You accept the handshake and make sure to firmly shake his hand while making direct eye contact which causes Yeonjun to lose his cool and keep sending out looks of “help” to Beomgyu.

Beomgyu takes the hint and steps in, “I’m Ben.”

“Hi Ben. What’s that short for? Benjamin, Benward, Bennet, Bennet with 2 t’s and 2 e’s, Benedict?”

You continue listing names that could possibly use the nickname while keeping Yeonjun’s hand in a death grip as Beomgyu grows increasingly uncomfortable. You turn your attention to Taehyun who just mumbles “Terry” and Kai is busy trying to coax Soobin back inside the apartment.

“Drop the act. I don’t know what’s going on, so you all are going to explain to me why you’re here.”

Finally dropping Yeonjun’s hand, he lets out a sigh of relief as the rest of TXT go back inside the neighboring apartment as you follow behind them. Kai holds the door open for you as you mumble a “thank you” and hear him close it behind you. You follow the guys and take your shoes off to wear an extra pair of indoor slippers that are conveniently in your size.

You cross your arms as your eyes narrow, “Okay, spill.”

Yeonjun and Taehyun, the members with the most confidence in their English, jump at the chance to explain the story their protocol team came up with about how they’re here to film content for In the Soop: Together. Your eyes switch every few seconds from one to the other as they speak over each other, virtually making the story unintelligible.

A single hand raise from you quiets them both as you speak, “Let me make sure I’m getting this right. TXT as in Tomorrow By Together are in my random ass city in my random ass state that no one famous ever comes to – not even for concerts – but one of the biggest musical acts from South Korea is here?”

Kai’s head tilts, “You know Tubatu?”

Your eyes widen as you suddenly turn your head to stare at the fire alarm on the ceiling, “I never said that.”

“MOA!”

Yeonjun opens his arms wide for a hug as you’re frantically shaking your head to pretend that you don’t know that your favorite group in the world is right in front of you, talking to you, and seemingly excited to see you.

Like they knew you.

Which would be crazy and fueling your delusions, so you chalk it up to their amazing fan service that you only dreamt about after seeing and reading on social media.

Turning back to the group of guys – they’re literally just guys (but your favorite group of guys) – you muster up all the courage inside your body. “Can we be friends? Can we start over like it’s our first-time meeting and just be friends?”

They all nod their head as you smile.

masterlist | previous | next

author's note !!! get well soon, beomgyu! weverse notice he got a bad ankle injury :(

[wongyuseokie]

Sleep Talking | l.s.m

Summary: Your boyfriend has a habit of talking in his sleep, and usually, it’s something very random, but tonight? He mumbled that he loved you in his sleep. 

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff |  ♥ completed works

Word Count:  925 words

Pairings: Lee Seokmin x Female Reader 

Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: Fluff

Content Warnings: One mention of food, and it’s so fucking fluffy, this is just me in my Seokrot and I’m in pain. I don’t even think it’s a Seokrot phase anymore. I’m just in it, and I can’t escape.  

Authors Note: This fic was inspired by the Weverse post where DK sleep-talked and wanted to party in his sleep (I swear this man is smth else). I also said I wouldn’t write this because I do not have any time, but here we are. 

Authors Note 2: @gyuwoncheol, for fueling my delulu self. I love you, my darling and @seungkwansphd for hearing me yap about this too.

Tagging: @aaniag @onlyseokmins @cheollipop @the-boy-meets-evil because let's suffer together, my Seok fans.

© wongyuseokie 2023. All rights reserved.

“So, Seok, you were ready to party in your dream?” You asked your boyfriend. 

“You saw the post?” Seokmin asked, and you grinned at him. Your boyfriend had just posted an audio recording of him sleep-talking where he was more than ready to party. 

“I should just stay awake a little longer tonight to see if I can record you saying something funny or blackmail worthy,” you teased, making Seokmin pout. 

“Kidding,” you giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a soft kiss. 

“So it’s our first time spending the night together,” Seokmin mumbled. 

“Yeah, it is,” you added shyly, hiding your face in his chest. 

“Look, if it makes you uncomfortable or anything at any time, tell me, okay? I’ll take the couch,” Seokmin offered, making your heart swell at his thoughtfulness. 

“I will, but I doubt you could ever make me feel uncomfortable,” you said honestly. 

You always took at least an hour or two to fall asleep; even if you were in bed by 10 p.m., you wouldn’t be asleep before midnight. It’s just how you were, but tonight, you were grateful for this because you eagerly hoped to hear your boyfriend say something funny in his sleep and record him. 

You noticed him starting to stir in his sleep. His arm, which was slung across your waist, pulled you in closer, and you could hear him begin to mumble ever so faintly. You grabbed your phone, making sure you’d be able to record him. 

You were about to press record when you heard him faintly; his voice was so soft that you could have almost missed it, but you were eternally grateful that you didn’t. 

“I love you, Y/N.” 

You almost dropped your phone on his face when you heard his confession. You wanted to wake him up and say those three words back to him, but instead, you thought of a plan and placed your phone back onto your nightstand, curled up to his touch and fell asleep with a huge grin. 

“Morning, handsome,” you greeted Seokmin the following day as he walked into the kitchen, his hair still wet from his shower. 

“Wow, look at all this food!” Seokmin exclaimed when he saw the various breakfast options on the kitchen island. 

“Is this all for us?” Seokmin asked, his eyes wide, and you nodded at him. 

“Baby, this is all so amazing, but you didn’t have to go through all this trouble!” Seokmin pouted, feeling bad that you did so much work. 

“I just wanted to show my love for you and thank you for being the sweetest boyfriend ever,” you admitted, and Seokmin grinned at you shyly. 

“Love?” Seokmin asked. 

“Yes, my love?” You teased, making him roll his eyes playfully at you. 

“No, you said you wanted to show your love for me?” Seokmin asked, his voice nervous and unsure. 

“Yeah, Seok,” you mumbled shyly, looking down at your feet before looking up. 

“I love you too,” you added, looking up at him. 

“Too?” Seokmin exclaimed, and you mistook his tone for confusion. 

“Oh, um, no, it’s just you said you loved me in your sleep last night, and I thought I’d say it back to you like this, but I guess maybe I read into your words too much; you were asleep,” you rambled, as Seokmin’s eyes grew wider with each word. 

“I confessed to you in my sleep?” Seokmin asked, and you nodded.

“Yeah, but you were asleep; just ignore what I said if it’s too soon. I don’t want to overstep or make you worry. Just pretend the last few minutes didn’t happen?” You offered, panicking slightly. 

“Nope!” Seokmin said as he ran off back to the bedroom. You could only worry, thinking that you had scared your boyfriend off. You waited a couple of minutes before you decided to follow after him. 

“Here!” Seokmin said, running back into the kitchen, huffing slightly with a rose in his hand. 

“Uh? Seok?” You asked. It was now your turn to be confused. 

“I love you. I just wanted the first time I said it to be more elaborate and special, and not in my sleep, but I meant every word. I love you, my baby,” Seokmin confessed, making you let out a sigh of relief, and you ran into his arms. 

“I love you too,” you mumbled into his chest, and you looked up at him, he leaned down, and your lips met in a gentle and tender kiss. The soft brush of your lips against each other sent shivers down your spine.

His lips were warm and inviting, and you could taste the subtle hint of the sweet, unspoken words that had been hanging in the air between you. You close your eyes, savouring the sensation, and lose yourself in the kiss.

Your bodies drew closer, and your arms encircle each other, pulling you nearer. The world disappears, and all that matters is this moment. It's a kiss filled with passion, a kiss that speaks of all the emotions you've been holding back.

“Seok?” You asked breathlessly as you pulled away from the kiss. 

“Yeah?” 

“Did you yank this rose out from my rose bush? The one I have been trying to grow?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at me. 

“Love forgives all!” Seokmin yelled dramatically, making you laugh. 

“It does, right?” Seokmin asked gently, and you smiled fondly at him. 

“Yes, but no more killing my plants, okay?” 

“Yes, no more dead plants!” 

[burner-itft-kiss-au]

Chapter 1: Where am I?

Hi, I'm Nolan Wayne, and this is my story of how I became... aware... of what happens to people like me...

I woke up in a strange place. It wasn't my room, though, it felt like it was... which kind of confused me. I noticed that this was a bunk bed I was sleeping on, and that there was more people in the room, but they were sleeping. I left the room and entered a hallway, they had bedroom doors that looked like they had name tags on them. I noticed a guy with a white jumpsuit with green, and yellow stripes coming out of the rooms.

He saw me, and said, "Dude! Rise and shine, fresh homie!" I didn't know how else to respond to that other than just saying hello, so I just waved nervously and walked away.

I walked into a lounge room. There was a girl with brown hair and a red jumpsuit with a yellow stripe on it. She didn't have a pinch of emotion on her face. "Um... Hi, How's it going?" I said awkwardly. She glared at me. "Like, what do you want? Dweeb..." She replied. Ew! I was just trying to be nice! I gave her a dirty look, she rolled her eyes at me. Wow, not even an hour has passed and I'm already gaining an enemy. I walked away to see a boy who looked very young and innocent. He looked at me with a smile and a giggle.

I walked into another room, a room that had looked like an arcade. I was surprised that I woke up in a place that had an arcade. "OUT THE WAY, DINGUS!!" A female voice shouted. I was pushed to the ground I guess that means I have TWO enemies. "I gotta beat Walker's high score!!!" The girl with the pixie cut said. Walker? Who's Walker? "Before Breakfast?" Said a guy with dual colored hair, a dual colored jumpsuit, and heterochromia. I got up and left. "Will everyone please gather round in the lounge area?" A voice from the speaker box has some important news.

Everyone was awake and in the lounge area. A woman with a turtle neck shirt appeared along with a guy wearing a the same turtleneck, but black, and had a face mask built in it. "Welcome, everyone! It's time for the new Person to introduce themself. Everyone, This is Nolan Wayne. Now, will everyone introduce themselves with a short story on how you discovered your powers? Starting with Kate?" Oh great... she's going to talk again... let's hear what this bitch has to say... "I'm Kate, I'm 16 years old, I have Psychokinesis, and this is my story. I was once a popular cheerleader, adored by all, but one day, a boy tried to flirt with me, when I told him I wasn't interested, he tried to attack me. I put him in a chokehold, not even with my bare hands, a police officer caught me in the act... and then all I remember was waking up here..." Her face was deadpan. I felt so bad for her... Everyone introduced themselves. Warren introduced himself in the funniest way possible. "Yo! Sup! My name is Warren, I'm 17 years old, I can shapeshift into any animal I choose, and here's my story, I was partying with my homies one night, then my homie, Issac said that I should put my party trick to the test, so I transformed into a horse! Then I transformed into a dog, and then right in the middle of my transformation into an alligator, the police came to my homie's house and apparently a Karen next door decided to call the police on us, so that's something..." I burst into laughter, that was the funniest way someone could ever end up here! And then it was my turn, "Hi, I'm Nolan Wayne, I'm 18 years old, I have no idea what my powers are or why I'm here... Yeah..." I don't know what my powers were or how I ended up here. "Well then... Anyway, Nolan, I'm Colleen and I am the head of The Keeping Inhumans Safe in the Sanctuary. Or as my assistant, Damien likes to call it... KISS!!" She said. "Also I want to clarify that Warrens story is not true, I know what actually happened... Because I was there..." He whispered in my ear. I was in shock. Could Warren be hiding something? What does this mean?

During breakfast, I wanted to clear the air with Kate, I just couldn't get her backstory out of my head. "Hi! Kate, was it?" I asked her. She nodded. "Okay, so I heard your story and I was pretty moved by it, I am so sorry that happened to you and-" "The rest of the story is none of your business, now can you, like, stop talking and leave? Thanks..." She interrupted me. "Well I feel bad for you and how you were treated by that person-" "Bye! Go!" She cut me off yet again, but with more of an angry and sassy attitude. "I am 18 years old and you are 16! Act like it!" A hand grabbed me and pulled me back. I felt like I was on a roller coaster and I went back. "Hi! Nolan, was it?" A girl named Hannah said. "Yes! That would be me, why am I over here?" I replied. She wrapped most of her arm around a nearby pole and it looked like it hurt, but it didn't.

"Thats why." Hannah Said. She unwrapped her arm. "I Didn't want you to get hurt, Kate is not someone you want to call a... W word... I don't want to say it..." "Trust me... Her girlfriend, Sabrina will NOT take it lightly..." A girl named Rosalie told me. "Sabrina is a rebellious bitch, and she has NO chill..." another girl told me. Her name was Vanessa. She was sitting next to the cute little four year old, turned out, his name is Shinji! We talked for about a half an hour until breakfast was over.

I'm still going to find out what happened for me to have ended up here though... I also need to figure out my powers... We'll see...

[maraschinomerry]

How about a George Karim x reader where they have made it a routine to sneak into each other’s bedroom to cuddle when one of them can’t sleep (it started after one draining case) but they never told Lockwood and Lucy bc they knew they would never hear the end of it

I've Got Your Back

Pairings: George Karim x gn!reader

Content: emotional hurt/comfort, angsty conversations in fluffy situations, breakdowns, Lockwood being Lockwood

A/N: oh wow this one got away from me a bit 😅 I wanted to do something super fluffy originally, but with the idea of it starting after a bad case I ended up leaning into the angst, hope that's okay! If you'd prefer something soft please let me know and I'll happily write another

Word count: 3.5k

The first time you found yourself in George's room was after your first Type Two case as a member of Lockwood & Co. Type Ones were second nature to you by this point, but you'd never dealt with anything more severe without supervision. Safe to say, you'd come away shaken.

It had been hours since you'd all returned, exhausted, and made your way to your rooms, but sleep continued to evade you. You tried everything - quiet music, hugging your pillow, distracting your mind by making lists of random things, duvet on, duvet off, on your back, on your side… Finally, a little after 4am, you surrendered and dragged yourself down the stairs towards the kitchen for a glass of water. The house was still and silent, save for the ticking from the hallway clock. You only made it as far as the landing before your body gave up and you slumped onto the unforgiving wood of the bottom step, fighting back tears as your breathing grew quicker. Thank god everyone else was asleep so they didn't have to deal with you like this. They were all greatly experienced agents and from what they’d seen they were impressed by both your abilities and your unflappability, so it was slightly embarrassing how much this had affected you.

Like some kind of horrible universal retribution, the door beside you clicked open. You frantically wiped your eyes as George emerged from his dimly lit room. His hair was particularly dishevelled and he wasn't wearing his glasses… or trousers, for that matter. He blinked at you, a mixture of blindness and confusion.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered. There was a wobble in your voice that you prayed was less obvious than you thought. Perhaps you only noticed it because you were expecting to hear it, perhaps George would think you were just tired. "Did I wake you?"

He frowned. "No, why would you-" It suddenly clicked as he peered closer. "Have you been crying?"

"No." Something in his face encouraged your honesty: "Not quite."

George was motionless for a moment. Then, he pushed his bedroom door open a little further and gestured inside. "Okay, go and get comfortable, I'll make tea once I've been to the toilet. Give me five minutes, non-metaphorical." There was a pause. "Will you be okay until then?" What a thoughtful question. He was normally so blunt and rational, you hadn’t expected him to consider exactly what state you were in after such a short interaction, or certainly not to act on it like that. You sniffled but nodded, and the two of you passed within a breath of one another as you swapped places in his doorway. His hand ghosted across your back between your shoulder blades as he directed you in, barely there and yet somehow the only tangible thing in your world at that moment. Your breath caught in your throat. The sensation lingered long after his footsteps had padded down the stairs.

Left alone in George's room, you took the chance to look around properly. You'd seen inside before whenever you popped your head in to speak to him, but now you could take it all in - the lamp on top of his crowded bookshelf emitting a warm glow across the sage green walls, neatly folded stack of laundry waiting to be put away, oval mirror on the chimney breast making you uncomfortably aware of how much of a wreck you looked with puffy eyes and hair tangled in frustration. Everything about the room was so… so George.

He'd said to get comfy, but you couldn't help but feel like you were invading his personal space. After a rapid internal argument over whether to slink back to your own room, you decided that would be rude since George had invited you in and gone to make tea, so you settled awkwardly at the end of his bed, feet planted on the floor.

Five minutes later, as promised, George tiptoed back in with two steaming mugs, kicking the door closed behind him. You thanked him as you wrapped your hands around the one he offered, while he placed his on the bedside table and relaxed back against his pillows.

"You look like you're about to bolt," he observed. That wasn't inaccurate; you were right at the edge of the mattress, feet pointing to the door and heel bouncing anxiously. He softened. "Take up whatever space you need. And if you don't want to talk about whatever had you tearing up on the stairs, that's fine, but I'm right here if you do."

You brought your feet up to sit cross-legged and sipped your tea while you worked up the courage to tell the truth (it was such good tea, too, you didn't know how he always got it just right). George did the same, not pushing matters for a second.

Eventually, you felt a little more comfortable, knowing you weren't being scrutinised. You tried to find the words more than once, faltering each time. Still, George waited patiently. They came at last: "Tonight was my first proper Type Two. I know I dealt with some in training and it shouldn't bother me, but I can't stop thinking about everything that could have gone wrong and if something happened to one of you…" You'd only been with the agency a month, but already you considered Lockwood, Lucy and George family over even your own parents, who had seemed almost relieved when you moved away. They were far more supportive, more understanding of you as a person, more respectful of your Talent. You could never forgive yourself for being the reason they got hurt, or worse. The pace of your heartbeat started to pick up again, thundering in your chest and ears.

"Hey, listen, breathe with me," George said gently as he sat forward to get your attention. You didn't even realise you were starting to fall back into the thoughts, let alone that George had noticed, so before you knew it you were following his slow, deep rhythm. His eyes, dark and lined with exhaustion and concern, didn't leave yours. He spoke again as he guided you. "We're all okay, and the whole point of being a team is we have each other's backs. It's not all on you to keep us safe, we all have to help, but it is on us to make sure you don't end up physically or mentally at risk. So if anything like this happens again, I hope you feel like you can come to me. Preferably without having to sit outside first."

The last part made you giggle. "Deal. And the same goes for you, my door is always open."

George smiled. "Thanks. For now though, get some rest, we can't have you falling asleep on the job." At this, he pulled back the other corner of his duvet. Now it was your turn to blink in confusion. "There's plenty of room," he explained like it was perfectly obvious, "and I don't like the idea of you going back upstairs on your own. If you're okay with this, of course."

The blush that crept up his cheeks reflected the one you felt on yours, and you tried your best to act natural as you put your mug to one side and slipped under the covers. George kept a respectable distance, but the warmth of his body still radiated towards you and lulled you into a peaceful sleep.

You awoke to the first rays of daylight filtering through an unfamilar window. As your eyelids fluttered open, you found yourself in an unfamiliar bed with an unfamiliar light pressure across your stomach and back. Cautiously, you turned your head. George was pressed up against you, face buried in your hair and arm draped across you. Your legs were so tangled it was hard to feel where you ended and he began. In the back of your mind you knew you should leave, get back to your own room before Lockwood or Lucy came and found you together, but this was the most relaxed you'd felt since becoming an agent. Besides, if you waited, George could check the coast was clear without arousing suspicion. That was a good enough excuse to stay. You brought your hand up, linking fingers with the boy's hand that hung across your stomach. A hum of contentment sounded from within your hair, echoing through your skull. You fell asleep once more with a lazy grin.

—

It happened a few more times over the next few months. You'd sneak into each other's rooms for comfort or company - it wasn't always about being scared or anxious after a case, just if one of you was having trouble sleeping or needed your mind taking off anything from research to thoughts about your family to whether you'd forgotten something on the grocery list. The two of you knew how each other ticked so it was easy to offer reassurance or support, and ending the night in each other's arms quickly grew to be one of your greatest comforts. George was an unusual sleeper, switching between curling up on his side and splaying across the whole bed like a starfish, but you found that no matter what, you were always able to slot against him like it was the most natural thing in the world. On most occasions you were the little spoon so that George could spread out behind you if he needed to, but even if he was in your arms and wriggled out, you would just snuggle back into his side with your head on his chest. It had also become second nature to make sure both bedroom doors were closed when you were together so Lockwood and Lucy would never get the opportunity to spot you in passing or find one of your rooms empty and go searching in a panic. They'd be happy for you, of course they would, but they'd be utterly insufferable about it and you were pretty sure you'd end up having to burn the Thinking Cloth as a precaution.

—

One night, just shy of six months into your time at 35 Portland Row, you were awoken by a tapping which perfectly matched the secret rhythm you'd established with George. You gave a groggy greeting, letting him know you were awake. His curly-haired silhouette appeared as he nudged the door open, but didn't move any further into the room. Normally he’d have been straight over, so his stillness set alarm bells blaring but you suspected you already had an explanation.

You'd become separated from the group on the case earlier that night. It hadn't bothered you at all, in fact you didn't even know it had happened until Lockwood told you later: you'd gone through a hatch in the corner of the kitchen to the basement, rummaging through boxes for the Source, and the rest of the group had moved through to the dining room when the kitchen door slammed shut behind them and refused to budge. For a terrifying moment, all they could think of was you, alone with a Visitor. As it turned out, it had locked you away to give them less backup, not the other way round, and they fought it off while you were completely oblivious (though you did manage to contain its Source). The team had told you what happened but having not been in the moment you hadn't been as rattled by it.

"George?" you asked into the darkness. When he didn't respond, you moved to him. Up close he was easier to see, a sliver of light from the hallway catching the edges of his features. His eyes were wide, lower lip trembling as he took one shaky breath after another. Actually, his entire body was trembling.

"Oh, Georgie," you murmured, heart breaking a little. You reached out to him. He flinched until his eyes refocused and he saw it was you, then immediately pulled you into a crushing hug. As his head buried in your shoulder he began to sob, and you wrapped your arms around him to rub soothingly at his back. Carefully, you closed the door with your foot and, still hugging him tightly, led him towards the bed. You had no choice but to pull away as you got into position, but took his hands to maintain the connection and as soon as you were leaning against the headboard he followed, crumpling against your chest. He mumbled something into your pyjama top, voice so quiet and broken by tearful hiccups that you didn't quite catch it.

"What did you say?"

He sat up, eyes fixed on your face like you might vanish if he so much as blinked. Somehow knowing that you hadn't heard him the first time made it harder to repeat. "I,  um... I said I was scared. What happened today made me realise how easy it would be to lose one of us, to lose you." The realisation hit you like a ton of bricks: he hadn't just come to you for comfort this time, he was here to make sure you were okay, that you were actually there and not just the product of a hopeful imagination. Not much wonder he was so much more physical than usual (eventual cuddling aside, he was never the touchiest person).

Taking the hint, you brought one hand up to cup his cheek. He leaned into the touch as you wiped away his tears with your thumb. Your other hand began to comb through his curls, brushing them away from his face. "I'm here, Georgie, see? I'm okay." He mimicked your movements, stroking your hair to prove your words to himself. "Remember what you said?" you continued. "We're a team, and I know you guys would have done everything you could." You both knew what you weren't saying - that even then, it might not have been enough, but that was the way of the job and the last thing you wanted was for him to blame himself. "And you did - you fought it off which kept it distracted, I never would have had time to find the Source without you."

"And we'd still be fighting it now if you hadn't kept looking. You had our backs too." This was good. That wonderful, logical brain of his was fighting back against the panic. If he could out-reason someone as headstrong as Lockwood, which you'd seen him do more than once, he could do the same to himself. He'd stopped crying at least, but he was still almost vibrating with energy and in no position to take the lead.

You shifted down the mattress until your head was on the pillow and opened your arms. George looked dazed, not processing what you were doing. In fact, he almost seemed to be receding into his oversized T-shirt. He was in a worse state than you'd first thought, too deep in his own mind to clamber out on his own. No amount of baseless reassurance would help at this point. You sighed. "Look, I know there's not really anything I can say that will convince you everything's okay." Something flickered behind his eyes. "The fact is, nothing's ever really okay in a job like this, and that sucks. We have good and bad days, but it's inevitable that something's going to happen to one of us eventually, whether that's on a case or entirely unrelated."

"This is the worst motivational speech ever," George muttered, and you couldn't help but snort. If he was making snarky remarks, that meant he was coming back into himself. You stayed laying down, but reached up and took his hand. He squeezed once, firmly, before settling into a loose grip with his thumb massaging small circles on the back of yours.

"If you'd let me finish, what I'm trying very unsuccessfully to say is that you're never going to be to blame. I know how important your research is to you and you do such an amazing job, honestly we'd be far worse off without you, so the fact that there are so many things in life that we can't change or prevent no matter how prepared we are... that's terrifying," you paused as your voice cracked at the thought, a hidden anxiety of your own unveiled, "but you don't have to deal with it alone. If all this is just fate or circumstance, isn't it a good sign that the universe has given us the people who matter enough that we're willing to try anyway?"

You had no idea where you'd been going with that, blindly trying to find a way to be encouraging without avoiding the root of the issue. You just had to hope that it would resonate with George in the right way and not push him further into the darkness. Every nerve in your body was on high alert, waiting for his reaction.

He moved.

You held your breath.

He folded into your arms with a faint but genuine smile. "Yeah, it is pretty good."

Your entire body relaxed. Hesitantly, testing the waters, you placed a soft kiss into his curls. All these nights in such close proximity had made you especially fond of the scent of his shampoo - lemongrass, paired with a sandalwood body wash - and you savoured the opportunity to breathe him in. "I can't be too mad at a world that lets us do this. No matter what it throws at us, we know it can't possibly mean it."

George squirmed a bit, and you were worried you'd gone too far with the kiss or said the wrong thing. But then he spoke. "Can we switch? Just so I can see you." That made sense. It would be more apparent that you were alright that way, plus you couldn’t deny you loved how safe his embrace made you feel. You let go, both turning together until it was you in his arms. As you stilled, you felt warm breath against the back of your head followed by equally warm lips.

As the pull of sleep grew stronger, George thought fondly about the people the universe had given him. There was you, constant and calming, the reason for his worry and the solution for it. There was Lucy, who from the offset had matched him in wit and eventually in devotion to their friendship. And of course, there was Lockwood, his best friend and the real reason you were all here, universal intervention or not. Lockwood, who could annoy him from across the corridor or appease him from the other end of the house. Actually, that was something. Not once since this started had Lockwood, with his blatant disregard for normal hours and habitual need to throw things at George's door, accidentally barged in on the two of you together. Perhaps the universe was involved after all.

—

Lucy, clad in a blue jumper over her pyjamas and the fuzziest socks she owned, raised her hand to knock on your door, wondering if you were awake to lend her some paracetamol from the little first aid box in your wardrobe as she'd run out and had a splitting headache. She would be surprised if anyone could sleep on a night like this, it was bitterly cold out on the landing and your room wouldn’t be much better unless you’d managed to steal one of the blankets from the library. A second before her fist connected with the wood, a hand grabbed her wrist and she turned defensively. A fully dressed Lockwood hastily released his grip and raised a finger to his lips in a silent hush. He nodded down the landing, leading her away to where they could speak without causing a disturbance.

"What's going on?" she frowned.

"You can't interrupt. George is in there."

Lucy's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. "How do you know?! Wait, are they...?"

He stifled a laugh and shook his head. "No, no, it's just a comfort thing. They've been doing it for months."

"Okay, that only answers the second question."

Lockwood thought back, relaying the tale as he went along. He'd gone to check on you that very first night, wanting to make sure you weren't too affected by the Type Two. Seeing your door ajar and room empty had been enough to make him nervous, and not being able to find you in the kitchen, library or basement made matters worse. As a last resort, he barged into George's room, ready to ask if the other boy had been told of your plans or heard any movement to suggest you'd gone out. The sight he'd been met with had simultaneously quelled his nerves and set them alight - you and George, fast asleep in each other's embrace. Thank goodness Lockwood was so light on his feet and averse to knocking. He crept back out, vowing to always make sure in future that you were in your respective rooms before following through on his beloved pastime of winding George up.

[beautysurvives]

heeeeere’s an excerpt from the AU fic I’m working on

approx 2k words, destiel, tw homophobia, tw child abuse and implied SA

Men who worked the front desk in motels were not prison guards, though there was some overlap between the two. This one, at least, was amenable to Dean’s charms.

A different guy from the one who’d checked him in, this man, Dean noticed, had no name tag anywhere on him, and didn’t say much in the way of introductions. But when Dean admitted, sheepishly, that he had no money for food, he said, “Come with me,” and beckoned him to a back room.

Dean’s instincts told him not to trust it, but the gnawing pit in his stomach said otherwise. There were mysteries to solve and plans to make urgently — first and foremost, the plan to get himself to South Dakota — but Dean couldn’t think of much on an empty stomach. The sun was going down, and he hadn’t had so much as a drop of water all day. His head was killing him.

It was a break room, with a tiny kitchen area and a mini fridge. The guy pulled out a bottled water and tossed it to Dean, who mumbled his thanks before gulping it down.

As he finished it off, he watched the blue eyed man grab a paper bag off the counter. He pulled out a foil wrapped something that looked suspiciously like a burger and held it out without a word.

“Oh, wow. Really?” Dean had to ask.

“I picked it up earlier,” he explained, in a low, full voice that Dean was beginning to notice didn’t suit him at all. Too heavy. All his words, deliberate, slow and straining. Like they were trying him on, and he was two sizes too small. “But I’m not so hungry anymore. You go ahead.”

Dean didn’t need to be told twice.

“Not that I’m complaining,” he began once he was down to his last bite, too starved for too long to care what he looked like, or that the man was staring, “but are you gonna get in trouble for, y’know, deserting your post? I don’t wanna—”

“It’s fine.”

Not very talkative. Not very socially graceful either.

But… cute. Harmless looking enough.

Dean was getting soft — he blamed it on the hunger and the newness and the elation of being free.

He laughed nervously, crumpling the wrapper into a ball. “Uh… I guess — not super busy in here today, huh?” He tossed the ball from one hand to another.

There had been cute guys in Greyrock.

Before Greyrock too.

But prison was prison, and life before that was…

Well.

Nothing gold can stay.

At least, that’s how it used to be. Maybe the world had changed in four months. Maybe only Dean.

But this guy was still staring, not answering, and it made Dean feel… queasy. With his hunger quieted, he could hear both his instinct and his rational mind telling him to get away while he still could.

Still, this gesture, sharing food, inviting him into a private room, seemed more than calculated. It was almost naive. Maybe even kind — and not in the way of most people Dean had encountered on the road.

Where was the ulterior motive? Where was the line between useful and exploited?

“You wouldn’t happen to have a phone I could borrow, would you?”

He didn’t. The home phone in the lobby was broken — hence the lack of business — and apparently he didn’t have a cell.

But he did know of a pay phone, no more than a five minute drive from the motel.

“I can take you there,” he said. “In the morning.” It wasn’t an offer. He wasn’t giving Dean a choice.

That night, Dean had vivid dreams. Even while in lockdown, there had been stimulation enough in his waking hours that he could sleep like the dead. When he did sleep, that is.

But here in this motel in Illinois, his subconscious mind was a shifting mass of apocalyptic nightmares: monsters and demons, civilization collapsing in a thousand different ways over and over, all of it converging on a pair of blue eyes and a faded yellow sedan. Hands holding out a meal.

Was that all it took?

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

“This is you?” Dean asked incredulously.

The man — Dean still hadn’t asked for his name — couldn’t bring himself to — glanced up as he opened the car door. There was something sarcastic in the look that made Dean laugh with triumph. It was the first glimmer of a personality he’d seen — dude might as well have started doing cartwheels in the parking lot. Dean would’ve been just as amazed.

“Uhh… No,” he answered distractedly. “I’m me. This is just my car.”

Dean wanted to roll his eyes, but stopped himself, and instead gave in to his second most impulsive thought. “You got a kid?”

“No.”

But the blanket with the stars on it was still in the trunk, poking its head out at them. Dean even went to the trouble of looking back, to show that he’d seen it. But the man with the blue eyes wasn’t even paying attention. He was fumbling with the key —

“You sure this thing is yours?”

It rumbled to life. As the man pulled his right hand back from the ignition, Dean noticed, again, the hand resting on the steering wheel. The untanned skin on his left ring finger. He’d first seen it over breakfast — Dean had come straight down after showering, and found an omelet and a bowl of cereal waiting for him — but didn’t want to say anything. Mentioning it was too much like learning the guy’s name. It would have made things personal, which would have made it harder to run.

“I am.”

This time, Dean did roll his eyes. Clearly, the guy didn’t want to talk to him.

So what, Dean wondered again, staring out the window at the other cars (which he was beginning to suspect had no drivers), could he possibly want from me? If it was just about sex — if the guy was even interested in men — then he didn’t have to do all of this to get it. Dean thought about offering, just to make it less awkward, but that would have been too painful.

In prison, there was a script for that sort of thing. In the real world too. Things that couldn’t be said out loud didn’t have to be.

Anyway, most people had always just assumed that Dean wanted it.

A lot of the time, they were right.

Dean almost said something. But then the man added, uncomfortably, as though the extra effort it took was causing him physical pain, “I don’t do a lot of driving myself. I usually am the one getting, uh, driven.”

“Oh,” Dean was taken aback. Not that it was weird — it reminded him of Sam — but it made the whole situation make even less sense. He had so confidently offered before, like it was the most natural, easy thing in the world, and nowhere near an inconvenience.

But now here he was, endearingly frightened at the prospect of movement.

“Well… uh… I like to drive?”

It took only a few moments of silence for the guy to agree. When he did, it was with a single nod. Then he was out the door, walking around to open Dean’s for him. It was almost gentlemanly, and Dean almost said so as they passed each other by.

He seemed comfortable in the passenger seat, giving directions, which automatically made Dean more at ease. Now the silence was companionable, the radio tuned to the classic rock station, playing in the background but not intruding.

“A lot of trust you’re putting in me, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Letting me drive your car. Being so nice to me. Again not complaining… Well, I guess I am. I just don’t get it, man. I mean, I could be anybody.”

“Well, I already know who you are.”

What?

“Oh really?” He tried to keep the strain out of his voice. “And who’s that?”

“Dean Winchester.”

He hoped the guy didn’t notice his gasp. Tried to convince himself that he hadn’t noticed it either. “That supposed to impress me? I gave my name when I–”

“John Winchester’s son.”

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

There were only two people to call. Richie from

Brooklyn was dead. Lee was probably dead. Deacon, nice as he was, couldn’t be trusted. Lisa didn’t deserve it. And Cassie was better off believing Dean was still in jail.

Sam’s number had been disconnected. So Dean gave the machine another one of blue eyes’ coins.

“Yeah?” Bobby picked up on the second ring.

“Bobby?”

“Yeah?”

God. It was good to hear his voice. “It’s me.”

“Who’s ‘me’?”

Did Dean really sound so different after just four months?

“Dean.”

The old man answered with a single click.

Alright, fair.

Dean glanced over guiltily at the blue eyed man, who apparently didn’t mind wasting his money along with his time. He was resting on the hood of the car, looking like it was yet another thing he was just trying out. Hunched, and as eerily still as he always was.

This time, Bobby was even quicker. Dean could picture him, picking up the landline like he was drawing a pistol. “Who is this?” Like it was a duel.

“Bobby, listen to me–”

“This ain't funny. Call again, I'll kill ya.”

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

“So our names are in the papers?” Dean more assumed than asked, as he sauntered back to the car, to the man he was suddenly determined to fuck.

He shook his head, looking at the clouds. “Internet. You know what that is don’t you?”

Dean scoffed. “I was locked up for four months, not forty years.” Still don’t know why I’m here, but that’s a story for another time, in another state, with someone who isn’t you.

“You and your family aren’t famous, if that’s what you’re wondering. Only to people who take an interest.”

“Oh. Is that your way of saying you’re interested in me?”

His eyes narrowed just a bit. Maybe he was finally catching up. Maybe the thought of being hit on made him angry. Maybe he’d hit Dean. Then Dean would hit him back. Then he wouldn’t have to ask for the car.

“I suppose. I can’t think of many people who wouldn’t find you interesting.”

Oh. “What is it that you’re looking for, hm?” Dean was leaning on one arm, intentionally invading his space. “You’re not some kind of killer who kills killers, are you?” Dean was. “Like Dexter?”

“No.” He took too long to answer. “And I don’t know who that is.”

“So what? You got a name?”

He didn’t answer. Dean wanted his next question to be, Are you married?

“Do you even really work at that motel?”

He looked at the clouds.

“So what are you really? A badge? CIA, NSA, FBI? Or just some whacked out journalist looking for your big break?” Dean’s last girlfriend had been a journalist. Always digging for the truth. Never happy once she got it. Especially not when it was given freely.

But this guy had barely any curiosity in him. Acted like he already knew everything he needed to know.

“…Are you the reason I’m out?”

“If I was, do you think I’d be allowed to tell you?”

So he was. That changed everything.

“Did they arrest my brother?” Dean asked.

Now, those eyes were locked on him. “Your brother is fine.”

Fine. Not free. “Well people like me don’t just get pulled out at random. I know there’s a catch. What’s the plan, huh? Let me stew, let the not knowing drive me crazy so you can swoop in and—”

“Don’t ask so many questions, Dean. You should enjoy your freedom.”

“While it lasts?”

He went back to his quiet, eerie self.

Dean missed the guy who was scared of driving.

“So you’re married.”

“No,” he answered too quickly.

Dean smirked. “So what’s with this?” He took his hand — the guy let him take his hand — and ran his finger along the mark.

“What are you doing?” Now, he looked terrified. Eyes wide. Apparently in awe at the way Dean played with his fingers, laced them through his own.

“Dean,” he warned. “I’m not even supposed to be talking to you right now.”

“Fine. Don’t talk to me. Just… I need to get to my family. I need to let them know I’m okay.”

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

Seducing monsters was easy. Dean knew the game by heart.

The first time John ever took him out on a hunt came shortly after that woman broke in and tried to take Sam. Dean would never forget the way he froze, his finger turned to stone over the trigger. The shotgun in his arms felt just like holding Sam when he cried; it made him think of his mother.

John arrived home just in time to see him like that, about to let his youngest son be taken.

He ripped the gun from Dean’s arms and shot the old lady dead.

Which meant no paycheck for John, and that they’d have to run again.

The truck stop hunt was just a month later. Pastor Jim promised to watch Sam for the week.

John made Dean wait outside a bar while he interviewed some locals, and when he came out he found Dean with a tall, beautiful blonde woman, who was handing him a Snickers, telling him her name, saying she’d keep him company until his dad returned.

In the car on the way to the truck stop, John asked him if he knew what it was he’d just spoken to. Asked him if he knew what a faggot was (all Dean knew was it was about the worst thing you could call someone). Told him things like that were the reason his mother couldn’t be with them.

Dean said, “You said monsters took her.”

“They did.”

John asked him if he was a faggot. Told him if he was, it meant he’d become one of the things they hunted. Told him that meant he’d either end up in prison or face down in a ditch. Told him a fag can turn you into one if you ain’t one already, and the only way to inoculate yourself is by being strong.

Most people weren’t, which was why most people needed sheltering. It was why there were gated communities and cul de sacs and houses like the one they used to have, where you waited thirty minutes for the firemen to arrive and save your mother, who by then was already long gone.

John said it was understandable that Dean had slipped and trusted someone he shouldn't have. He was, after all, just a kid. But he couldn’t afford to be. Sammy couldn’t afford it — because without Dean around, who would take care of him when John was gone?

John said, “The thing we’re hunting today likes little boys who look a lot like you.”

John thought seeing firsthand how bad they were would make Dean pick a side.

John hoped Dean would choose humanity.

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

Castiel couldn’t look at him. Anyone with eyes could see where Dean was trying to lead them.

So Castiel didn’t look.

“I’m not about to… trade this car for your body, Dean.”

“Why not?”

[deathofacupid]

make it up to you | peter parker

summary: peter forgets a special day, and now he's gotta make it up.

you'd barely gotten any sleep last night, that's how excited you were for this. today was your's and peter's anniversary, and you simply couldn't wait. the moment your alarm went off, you were smiling.

despite the fact you'd gone to bed extra late last night, because you were finishing up peter's gift, you didn't have any problems waking up. you brushed your teeth first, deciding to take a quick shower after.

you didn't normally dress up, but today was an exception. you also weren't a dress type of girl, but today was an exception for that, too. adding some makeup, (including eyeliner because that was a must), you declared yourself ready.

you were bouncing on you toes, on the verge of squealing. peter had promised that there was something waiting for you.

and you loved suprises.

"ms. y/n," friday spoke, "your father is asking if you'd like a ride to school."

"um... sure! tell him i'll be right there, okay? thanks!"

you grabbed your backpack, swinging it over you shoulder before exiting your room and getting in the elevator.

"hey, peanut," he smiled, kissing the top of your head. "whatcha all dressed up for? a boy?" he asked, very well knowing you already had a boyfriend, wiggling his eyebrows.

you rolled your eyes, "no! well, yes. it's me and peter's anniversary."

"two years right? gotta hand it to him."

"what?"

"well, as your father, i must say that dealing with you certainly isn't the easiest."

"hey!" you frowned, swatting him.

"and i'm guessing the gift is for him, too?"

"yes! wanna see?"

"sure," he said, taking the object out of the bag. you blushed deeply, waiting for him to say something.

"it's a scrapbook," you said quietly.

in it were your's and peter's most intimate moment, ones where love was fulling the the frame. some were taken by peter, and some by you. there was an assortment, in no particular order, and stickers and doodles decorated the sides, filling up the spaces.

"wow, peanut," he said, looking up, "this is really sweet, how long did it take?"

"you shrugged, 2-3."

"hours? that's it?"

"...months."

he gaped, "pepper never did anything like this for me!" to friday he said, "hey, fri, tell pep we need to have a talk."

"ew! dad!"

"come on, i got somewhere to be, sweet-pea."

"where?"

"i dunno, just some lame meeting."

"hey... daddy?" you asked, after getting settled in the car.

"uh-huh?"

"you think... you think he'll like it?"

"he'd be stupid not to."

you nodded wordlessly, and the rest of the ride there was in silence, not a uncomfortable one. after a bit, the car stopped and you got out.

"have a good day," tony winked.

"you, too."

"and please, for the love of god, don't get off in the janitor's closet."

you rolled your eyes, "same goes to you and pep."

"i got a whole damn tower, i'll find better places than that."

"okay, gross. bye, now," you waved as he drove off (definitely over the speed limit.)

you felt giddy as you walked over to peter's locker, and he greeted you with a kiss. "hey, angel."

"hi, peter!"

"what's this?"

"your gift!"

"for- for... what?"

your heart indefinitely broke.

"oh. y-you don't-?"

he held the baggie tightly, brows furrowed.

you shook your head, "it's our anniversary."

"oh, right. oh. i k-knew that- i-i have a, um, a gift for, too! i just... i forgot it! yeah. yeah! at home! in- in my bedroom... in the closet... that- that's, yeah. yep."

"you forgot," you deadpanned.

"no! well, yes. i'm so sorry, i was patrolling late, and it slipped my mind-"

"it's okay. i get it," you shrugged, trying to brush it off. "spider-man comes first, right?"

it was silly to admit, but you hoped that he'd noticed that you'd dressed up. was it a silly thing to get excited about? 

"no, i-"

"it's fine. you had to patrol. that's not on you. i guess... i dunno. i thought maybe that you'd... never-mind. i'll see you later. bye, peter."

"aw, y/n, babe-"

but you were already gone.

you felt so immensely guilty, was it really fair to blame it on him? maybe not.

maybe.

it certainly didn't feel right. he was out saving lives, what was this compared to that? you'd probably started this stupid fight (could you even call it that?) over nothing.

but on the other hand, peter had a responsibility to your relationship. it's not that you really even cared about the gift, because you didn't, it's because you cared about his love. just him remembering. he'd made a promise when you found out, that spider-man wouldn't get in the way of things.

this was a big deal to you, and you weren't being petty, just disappointed.

oh, well. too late to do anything about it now.

you sighed again, deciding to deal with it later.

soon enough, the entire day had gone by, and you were waiting outside for happy to pick you up. all day, peter had been avoiding you. you weren't stupid. you could see ned and peter whispering to each other when they thought you weren't looking.

you hadn't meant to avoid peter, either, but it was currently to awkward to clear the air.

what a great anniversary.

"hi, uncle happy," you said, not trying to hide the glum tone in your voice.

"hey- woah, there. you okay?"

"yep."

"tony said it was your anniversary. 2 years, right?"

you let out a frustrated scream, making happy flinch.

"jeezus christ, don't distract the driver!"

"it sucked! today sucked! i was so excited and then it just turned out to be one sucky mess! he said he had a suprise! and he forgot everything! sucky. everything fucking sucks."

"first, you're lucky steve isn't here. and second, do you wanna talk about it? and not just say a word that has the root word of 'suck,' y/n?"

"he forgot," you shrugged.

"peter? peter forgot?"

"yeah."

"look, i'll be honest. that doesn't seem like peter. i don't think he'd ever intentionally do anything to hurt you, y/n. you know that, yeah? that kid is head over heels for you. but, hey, i don't want you beating yourself up over it. go to school tomorrow, talk it out, and go from there. it's easy; you love him, he loves you. if that's enough, it'll carry you through."

you inhaled, "yeah. yeah, okay. you're right. i-i'll talk to him!"

"see, you got the right idea. communication is key."

"thanks, uncle happy, you're the best."

"i know."

so you went home, and stressed about what you were going to say. then forgot about it. stressed some more. stress ate while stressing. forgot again. napped. stressed. drafted hundreds of texts you were to nervous to send. forgot one more time. did homework and forgot. read.

and you were still reading. 

you jumped slightly when you heard tapping on the window, knowing it was probably peter (since he was the only one who ever showed up at your window announced) and went over to unlock it.

"um, hi, peter," you stammered out, but he wasted no time grabbed you and swinging. you screamed. obviously.

is he kidnapping me? he's gonna kill me for this? no, wait, he's too nice. hiring someone to?

and then you weren't in the air anymore, now you were on... a roof? as you looked around, you took in the sight of fairy lights all around, making you do a double take. you blinked and noticed a picnic blanket, with several foods layed out.

suddenly, all the anger you had at him for kidnapping you dissipated.

"is this... is this for me?"

"no, it's for my other girlfriend. i just got the two of you mixed up." you shot him a glare and he quickly apologized. 

"do you, uh, like it? i wanted to give you something special. because you derserve it. a-and i'm a shit boyfriend who can't even treat his girlfriend right. i-i'm so sorry, angel. i didn't mean to forget, this was important to me, too. i just- i- it got in the way, spider-man did. i know i promised you that it wouldn't and i was trying so hard to make sure it wouldn't, and... and i broke my promise. 

"there isn't an excuse for that, i know. i'm taking responsibility for it. but- but i love you. and i want to make it up to you."

there were so many things you wanted to say, so you settled for this; "you love me?"

he blushed, "yeah. a lot. y-you don't have to say it back, and i don't want to pressure you, but i just... i wanted you to know."

you were smiling so damn hard as you kissed him, short and sweet. "i love you, too. a lot. and i'm not mad. i- i thought you'd be mad at me, honestly."

"what? why?" his brows furrowed. 

"because... i was being selfish? it's not fair of me to ask you to put us in front of the world."

"you weren't being selfish, and y/n, you are my world. this is the least i can do, you should be able to have a boyfriend that can do the bare minimum," which caused you to laugh. 

"bare minimum, parker? you are the sole reason that us girls have such high expectations."

peter looked confused, and bless him, but you didn't bother to elaborate. "how about we enjoy that date, huh?"

"okay," he grinned, kissing you again, "and by the way, i did notice you dressed up. you look nice in that. not that you wouldn't look nice in anything else, i'm just saying-"

"gods, i love you."

[frost-link]

can I ask for a Sidon x reader where the reader is from our world and still has a phone? Just something cute about reader teaching Sidon how a phone works and maybe Sidon comforting reader when she feels homesick

So this is the first time I've ever made a request so if it's stupid please ignore

What an interesting idea! I'd love to write this! I'll be writing in a headcanon format! This one is mainly just silly, I hope it's okay! ^^

The Power of Technology - Sidon X Reader

Sidon is immediately fascinated when you show him your weird glowing brick that looks like a sheikah slate, or how else would he put it... a Purah Pad? He knows that Link has one too. You try to explain that it is a "phone" and only you have one. Sidon just goes along with it because he has no idea how new technology works, but he'll try to understand!

He's amazed how you have everything by the power of your finger tip on such a small device. Despite not having any service or internet in their world, Sidon thinks that your phone is something out of a sci-fi child story.

When your phone dies for the first time and he learns that they need to be charged by electricity, he suggests that you leave your phone outside during a thunderstorm so it could "charge".

Once Sidon learns how to use your phone, the man immediately loves watching silly videos you had saved on your phone before you came to Hyrule. He will 100% watch the same video on loop for hours on end.

"Wow! Such wonderful art! It's like real life!" Sidon would exclaim looking in your camera roll. You would have to explain that these are "photos" not drawings. Sidon didn't believe you at first.

Oh... You poor thing... Now that Sidon has discovered the magic of the camera on your phone, he will sneak your phone and take hundreds of pictures, half of them being himself with his silly cheeky smile. You'll wake up to a message on your phone about your storage being "full", you'll know why.

You'll both scroll through your phone's camera roll together. Sidon will see ones of you back in your world and will have so many questions. Looking back on these photos will make you emotional, as much as you love Hyrule and Sidon, you do get homesick.

When you're homesick, Sidon will grab your phone out of your hand and take a silly picture of himself and change your wallpaper to himself. "Look my love! You can now look at me whenever you open your phone!" He would say with a silly grin. The photo would be taken at the worst angle, yet it would make you laugh, making you feel better.

You have a mix of different songs saved on your phone but Sidon had decided that he liked a certain band the most. In the early hours of the morning, you'll hear him softly sing to himself "Weeeee are the champions!!" Low and Behold... The band was Queen.

He 100% listens to the same song on loop, and he'll NEVER get tired of that song. "It's a catchy song! How could you NOT want to sing it?"

When you are on your phone at night, he's shocked at just how bright it is. "What is that thing even made of??"

Both of you will cuddle at night sometimes watching a movie or two. You only have a few, Sidon doesn't mind rewatching. He finds it amazing how you can record life on it and then watch it on such a tiny screen.

[geothewriter]

Vermillion Seas Cardinal Skies: Chapter 26 - Save the Date

What do a group of teens do when they've just arrived on an island paradise and are stressed to hell and back? A double date! Antics are sure to arise as the couples unwind at dinner.

--

Wow. Okay so. Yeah. Turns out Covid hangs on for a while. Still coughing, but it's almost gone. Thank goodness. Unfortunately, today's update time is SO out of wack. But I made it here!!!

Right. WELCOME BACK Y'ALL! Got a fun one today. :) We're continuing the trend of relatively short chapters compared to my norm, but this is another sweet one. So be ready. Be prepared. We've done it! Oh, and Happy (early) Valentine's Day!

As always, a MASSIVE thank you and a huge shout-out goes to @achillmango for her awesome editing. This wouldn't be as good as it is without you, friend. <3

Now, please enjoy Chapter 26 - Save the Date

Distant calls of a tropical bird, which he’s sure Uncle would recognize by its plumage alone, continuously filter through the nearby open window. A gentle breeze accompanies the natural sound, carrying with it the smell of ripening fruits ready to be plucked from the garden trees he once climbed as a boy. It is peaceful. Despite the sun shining on the opposite side of the house, Zuko has never felt more in touch with his inner fire. He isn't sure what’s causing the deeper connection, but perhaps it is his relief that the girl across the hall is recovering. Maybe it's because he helped. Maybe because she kissed him goodnight. Maybe it’s the quiet. He shakes his head. The early morning meditations are something he’s taken for granted in the past. He hasn’t been able to wake with the sun and truly relish in his routine for several days, maybe even weeks now. He sighs contentedly and continues his deep breathing exercises, thankful for a full night’s sleep. It’s poetic really, that the first time he’s had both the opportunity to do so, and the rested body to act on meditating, that Sokka unceremoniously flings the door to his room open to interrupt him. The other boy’s voice immediately exudes incredulity when he speaks. “Whaat? Not fair!” “What isn’t fair, Sokka?” He doesn’t change his form, and doesn’t open his eyes; this is likely a conversation that could wait for later. “I swear! I got up extra early just to talk to you.” “I’ve been up for two hours already, Sokka. The sun’s been up for three. I slept in.”  “There’s something deeply wrong with you firebenders.” The other boy deadpan grumbles. “Whatever.” When Sokka closes the door but very evidently stays in the room, Zuko sighs and turns himself around so that he’s still seated, but now facing the other boy. “I’m busy meditating, can’t this wait?”  Sokka immediately says, “No. I talked to Katara last night. I need to know. Is it true?”  “Is what true?”  “Gah! It’s like pulling teeth from a moose lion! Did my sister spare Yon Rah, and the people on the ship, and did the thing with the captain happen the way she said it did?” “Do you trust my word over hers? Whatever she’s told you, I’m sure it's true.” “Zuko.” He pauses and glares at him before kneeling on the floor to meet his eyes directly, speaking with conviction. “I just want to know that my sister is okay. I don’t care if she killed someone. I don’t care if she did a bad thing on your trip. I care if she’s okay. And I know you care about her, so tell me. Is. She. Okay.” His promise to Katara doesn’t apply anymore, right? Sokka already talked to her and it sounds like she shared everything with him. It wouldn’t be breaking the promise he made to her. Sokka’s form is locked in a sort of tenuous strain that is almost concerning when he speaks again, breaking Zuko’s concentration. “Look, I know you promised not to tell anyone, but…listen. Just tell me if you think she’s going to be okay? You talked to me at the temple before even going on that adventure. It’s only fair.” Zuko nods his head in defeat. “It’ll probably take some time, but it seems like the nightmares are gone, at least I didn’t hear any screams last night. I think she’ll be okay.” The other boy deflates in what Zuko can only assume is relief at his words. “Thank Tui and La. I didn’t want to have to fight you if she ended up hurting more.” “I wouldn't forgive myself if she did.” A beat, “You can’t believe you'd win that fight, right Sokka?” he adds with a small smile. “I know I wouldn't. But you know what would happen next?” “Suki?” “Yes. Suki.”

“She’d laugh at you, Sokka.” “Well…yeah, but afterward? She would take you down,” Sokka adds with a grin. “How–” He remembers watching her fighting techniques and knows that Sokka is right. “I need to watch her fight, learn some of–” “Now now, best buddy, you leave watching her to me.” He gives an uncomfortable grin, stands, and motions toward the door. “Come on, let's go downstairs and make breakfast for everyone! I have plans to explain!” “Sokka I–”  He knows there’s no food in the house, right? However; Zuko is pretty sure there are some root vegetables and maybe some good fruits in the trees out back in the overgrown garden. They can probably make a decent enough breakfast out of that before going into town for supplies. “Fine. I’m coming.”

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