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jjkamochoso · 2 days

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In Sickness and Sadism

Not fluff, not angst, but a secret third thing... (it's Feitan from HxH, what can I say)

Feitan Portor x gn!reader with chronic illness

You can't afford your medicine. Feitan won't accept that!

Warnings: cussing, breaking of human bones, mentions of other violence (not toward reader)

"What do you mean the price went up that much?"

You were incredulous. You had been frequenting the same pharmacy in your home town since you could remember and the price for medicine had always been consistent. That's what you liked about shopping there--the owner didn't price gouge like they did in every other store. Now, you didn't know what to do. You needed to buy the damn medicine or else you would be miserable, or probably even dead. It already wasn't easy having to deal with a chronic illness and now you had to face the fact that you definitely didn't have enough money to buy something you needed to live.

"That's just how much it is now, don't cry to me about it," sneered the cashier and you felt your anger bubble up at his lack of empathy. Your life was terribly unfair and you wanted to scream, cry, and punch the smirk off the cashier in that order.

"Please, can I talk to Mr. Greck, the owner, about this? I've been coming here for years, maybe he can get me a discount," you pleaded, but the cashier just laughed at you.

"The owner has a job from which he needs to make money. Not that you would know what it's like to have money in the first place. So no, you can't waste his time begging like the poor person you are. Now get out or I'll throw you out."

You glared at him, hoping he was bluffing, but he seemed the type to follow through with hurting someone like you and you knew your body couldn't take the exhaustion, especially if you were going to be off your medicine for a while. You needed to make sure you were in good condition to work every day of the week, plus overtime, to make enough to buy your month's supply. Feeling defeated and upset, you left the building, tears falling freely.

Feitan prided himself on his distinct lack of empathy. He relished in the fact that the pain of others makes him feel warm inside. There was no better symphony of sounds than people crying and screaming for their pain to stop.

So why the fuck was he finding himself so outraged at some random person's medical predicament?

The raven haired man had stopped in to a local pharmacy to pick up (ahem... steal) some supplies for the Troupe in case anyone managed to get hurt on the latest mission. He wasn't paying attention to his surroundings for the first few minutes of his shopping spree, completely uncaring to someone else's woes of the fragility of the human body. All of a sudden, after stuffing the last roll of gauze in his sleeve, his ears perked up to listen in to the conversation happening at the front register.

"What do you mean the price went up that much?"

His eyebrows furrowed. Not that he cared, because he wasn't paying for any of his things anyway, but he did notice that the price tags here for items displayed significantly lower numbers than previous pharmacies he had visited in other areas around. You had affirmed his findings in your conversation with the cashier and Feitan felt his blood boiling at the brash rudeness coming from the cashier's mouth. Who did that scum think he was, speaking like that to someone for no reason? Feitan certainly wasn't the nicest guy around but even he had the decency to not be a total jerk to random strangers, let alone people in distress about their medical and financial woes. He didn't know why he was giving this ordeal the time of day. Maybe it was because of his upbringing? He saw this type of thing daily in Meteor City. Hell, he lived it himself. There was nothing scarier than seeing a totally healthy person decay rapidly and shrivel into nothingness, all because they were born in unfortunate circumstances. He scoffed when he saw you leaving in tears. Why didn't you just use your brain and brawn and steal it? Were you too weak? He saw your fists clenching earlier and figured you were strong enough to take down that slime ball. If you did end up getting your ass kicked, at least you didn't lie down like a dog and take it, like you were doing now. His eyes followed your frame until you left the building and he watched until your silhouette was no longer visible outside. He didn't know why he was doing this. He wasn't supposed to make a big scene whenever he was out and about, but the events were already set into motion before he could stop himself.

"5 month supply of whatever that person needed." Feitan ordered, pointing to the boxes behind the cashier's head.

The cashier just laughed at him. "You too, huh? What are you, their boyfriend or somethin'? Maybe their kid? Scrawny little thing."

Oh, he'll wish he never had a tongue to speak those words.

Feitan kept his cool, procuring a velvet bag from his person and set it on the counter with a clank emitting from the contents of inside. "I have money."

The cashier's mouth opened in a greedy smile. He quickly retrieved the 5 month supply Feitan requested and put it in a bag.

"That'll be 100,000 Jenny."

Feitan smirked under his cowl. He reached into the bag, seemingly to pull out money, but instead of coins, the cashier's outstretched hand was met with a mini hammer. The sickening crunch of bones could be heard as the man howled in pain.

"Oh? Big man can't handle small hammer?" Feitan taunted, his eyes crinkled in delight at the man's suffering. The cashier tried to reach for a gun he had stashed behind the counter but Feitan was much too fast, grabbing his wrist and turning his arm the wrong way so that, too, was broken. The cashier couldn't get a word out, instead crying out with tears running down his face.

"Don't cry to me about it." Feitan mocked the worker by using his own words against him. The shorter man hummed a bit, thinking of what to do next. He needed to finish up quickly or else he'd lose track of you and end up having done this all for nothing.

Well, this wasn't all for nothing either way. He needs to make sure he practices his methods often so he doesn't lose his edge.

Feitan grabbed the bag containing the medicine and cleaned up his own bag of tools while the cashier was lying on the floor, writhing in pain and ready to pass out. He gave him a strong kick before turning toward the door.

"Good luck getting all that fixed at hospital. If you can afford it."

You were walking down the street, dejected and unsure of what to do when you felt a nauseating presence appear behind you. You turned around to face a short man with a skull face covering offering you a bag. Naturally, you were hesitant to take it, but he nudged it to you again.

"Medicine. For you."

Your eyes widened in surprise. Did you hear the soft spoken man correctly? You tore open the bag and saw multitudes of your medicine within.

"5 months. Go get better job or learn to steal."

You went to thank him but he was already gone, disappearing like a ghost. You were thoroughly confused but at the same time, extremely grateful. You stood on the street corner in a daze until the sound of screaming could be heard somewhere close to you.

"Someone please help! This cashier's been seriously injured!"

You whipped around to see a woman running out from... the pharmacy? What exactly had that man done to get you what you needed? You were ready to run away from the scene so you weren't questioned as a suspect when you caught a glimpse of your savior once more, watching you like a hawk from the rooftop of the building next to you. He put his finger to where his lips resided under his mask, a signal to stay quiet about what happened, as he let out a short maniacal laugh and disappeared from your sight.

Feitan finally realized why he decided to help you that one day. There were many people in this world he'd gladly see rot to death and then rot even further after that.

But not you.

No, you were much too attractive to be a corpse so soon.

#feitan x reader #feitan porter x reader #hxh x reader #phantom troupe #phantom troupe x reader

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wanderershu · 11 months

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Just remembered how prior to finding out the real truth, Alver had thought that even if it was someone else in Cale Henituse's body, he didn't care because he liked and cherished the current Cale, whomever he may be and now I suddenly feel unwell.

"If the body possession part was true, then it would be very sad for Duke Henituse's household but not for Alver. It might seem cold, but those were Alver's honest thoughts."

-Lout of the Count's Family, Chapter 475

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ratsonastick · 3 months

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Blind Love

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader (happy Ending)

When you return from a mission, hurt and partially blind, Clarisse finds herself growing close to you. But the day you can finally see again she grows nervous that you won't recognize her voice.

Requests are still open

Warnings: Blood, aggression

The first time everyone saw you again, you were bleeding from the eyes, crying hysterically while blindly walking through the camp woods with your friends on your shoulders.

You were a quiet and sweet girl, always with your two other friends, but even though you only had been at camp for a few weeks, you were sent on a quest.

You didn't have time to remember people, to memorize their faces, you hoped to do that when you returned but unfortunately, you were attacked moments before entering the campgrounds for your return.

Chiron ran to you, or at least that's who you thought it was, you couldn't see and all you could do was keep limping with your friend on your back.

There were three of you, but Milo sacrificed himself to give you guys a chance. So you ran with Lila who hit her head, on your shoulders, until something sliced your eyes. You stumbled, screaming in pain and gripping at your eyes as you felt the blood travel down your face.

Whatever did it to you, didn't want to kill you fell on the ground for Lila, throwing her over your shoulders once more and continuing to try and go in the direction of the camp.

You walked to the healing infirmary with two people guiding you and eventually sat down on a bed while many voices yelled in the background.

You felt hopeless. You were hopeless, especially when they called out that Lila was dead.

They covered your eyes with bandages, and you couldn't help but dampen them with blood and tears.

Someone squeezed your shoulder and you only straightened your back and stayed still. “They will heal with the medicine we will provide, but you need to keep them covered … if they get infected then it's over.” A boy with a gentle voice told you.

Holding your hand to help you get off the bed.

They wanted to set you in your bed and allow you to finally relax but you refused. You wanted to sit in the chair on the porch of your cabin, if you couldn't see nature you wanted to at least feel it.

And that's what you did, almost every day. You couldn't do anything else, you wouldn't talk to anyone, too devastated about what happened to your friends to try and make more. Without sight, you couldn't train, walk around, or explore.

So you sat and simply breathed.

But it wasn't till one day when a camper named Clarisse made the wrong choice at the wrong time.

She didn’t know you, not many did, you were quiet before and now you were like a ghost. And talking to you did not sound appealing to her.

So when she was walking past a camper that unfortunately left your cabin she decided to trip them because her siblings next to her dared her to.

But then she heard a deep voice call her, Chiron.

“Clarisse, we talked about this.”

Clarisse let out a sigh and turned around to look at him as her siblings ran off, “About what?”

“About your abuse towards other campers, just because your father is the god of war doesn't mean you have to always prove to him you can be aggressive.”

You didn't know this girl, but you thanked her for saving you from Chiron. Chiron had been visiting you daily to try and convince you to do things, but you always whispered a no.

“You need to be friendlier … help others.” He spoke once more, an idea brewing in his head “Which is why I want you to help Y/n … bring her to the lake”

You let out a sigh, your eyebrows furrowing together in annoyance, now you couldn't say no to him.

Clarisse looked at him annoyed, her arms crossing and she rolled her eyes. Chiron waved her to follow him and she did, approaching you as you sat there.

“y/n, you need to get up. You like sitting in the ocean and it's time to move.” Chiron spoke, he didn't want you to think you had a choice.

“I can't see, why would I want to go to the lake if I can't even see it.” You mumbled looking in the direction you thought he was in. “You still have a few other senses you can use to enjoy yourself there.”

You sighed once more and turned your head away from him “Again. I can't see … how you plan on getting me there.”

Chiron let out a chuckle ‘Well this is where Clarisse will come in clutch.” Clarisse looked at Chiron with anger, she did not want to help you, she had better things to do than this.

Chiron grabbed your arm and helped you walk to Clarisse and gave her your arm.

When he went to leave he placed his hand down on her shoulder “You can't hurt the blind … it's unfair.”

While he walked away he chuckled “Maybe you'll learn a thing or two about being kind, Y/n is a good one.”

Clarisse looked at you, her tongue poking the side of her cheek in annoyance. When she thought you’d say something to her, you didn’t.

“Are we going to move?” you finally spoke up, your arm frozen in her grasp. “Oh…” Clarisse mumbled as she led you down the steps and the dirt paths.

She didn’t mind the silence, she found herself enjoying the company without feeling the need to always be talking.

Every once in a while, she found herself looking at you, how you still moved your head around as if you were looking for things to see, but instead it was only the sounds. She took notice how every once in a while you'd stumble and your grip would tighten on her arm. She noticed all these things and enjoyed them.

When you finally arrived at the Lake, Clarisse picked a good spot and sat you down and then sat right next to you.

She never really liked the water, always finding it aggressive, and not in a delightful way, and she hated how the sand always got caught in her hair. But she took notice of how your shoulders softened at the familiar sounds that you had kept yourself from for weeks, and she found herself smiling.

“You like the water?” Clarisse asked softly, finding herself caring if you were ready to talk yet or not. “Yes … I grew up by the ocean, it makes me think of better times.” You mumbled, your fingers digging into the sand.

You hate the sand, but you still find yourself touching it trying to remember those times you played with it when you were younger.

Clarisse looked away from you and back at the lake, she wanted to hate Chiron for making her do this, but she couldn’t.

After a few moments, Clarisse looked back at you and memorized your face, she wondered what your eye color was and if they matched your personality. “Do you want to … touch the water?” Clarisse thought for a moment, looking around at things to do.

You had been sitting there for a while, soaking in the sun, she wasn't sure if you were bored. You nodded your head and stuck your arm out for her to grab, and she quickly took your hand, pulling you off the ground and slowly walking you toward the water.

The waves were small, making a limited amount of noise, but the scent still wavered in the air. You walked closer to the water, Clarisse held a loose grip on your hand not wanting to hurt you, and then you finally touched the water.

It was refreshing, almost felt like a new start to you, as if you were finally willing to try and live your life instead of sitting around all the time.

You inhaled softly as you stood there, and Clarisse did the same, finally looking away from you and out at the water. Watching the campers row small boats and splash each other with the water. For once she didn't feel the anger she constantly felt, a part of her wanted to thank Chiron, but instead, she silently thanked you.

After an hour you finally voiced that you were done, so Clarisse started to lead you back to your cabin. But instead of the usual route, she took a longer path, wanting you to spend some more time walking instead of going back to your cabin where you would sit back down.

You knew what she was doing, you had noticed the difference in paths and how long they took. A part of you wanted to ask why but you kept quiet.

Eventually, you got back to your cabin and she helped you to the door, you carefully opened it and felt around, following the string some of your younger siblings had set up for you to follow.

Clarisse watched as you went inside, she knew you couldn’t see her standing there, so she took her time leaving.

Every day she would go back to your cabin, saying it was Chiron who was making her help you but in reality, she just wanted you.

You started to open up to her, showing the lively personality that you had lost during the attack, and Clarisse loved it.

Things were perfect for both of you until it was the day to get your bandages off along with the stitches for good. While on your usual walk, you told Clarisse and for a moment you heard silence.

“Aren't you excited for me?” You asked softly squeezing her arm gently and you heard Clarisse hum softly “Yeah –”

“Will you be there for me?” you asked once more and you heard a soft hum from Clarisse again. You didn't think anything of it, but deep down Clarisse was upset. What if you saw her for who she is, an ugly person inside and out?

Later that day you went to the infirmary, sitting down on the bed with your foot gently shaking at how excited you are. Will walked over to you and started to unwarp your face and you heard the door open, figuring it was Clarisse you asked someone “Is Clarisse here?”

Will looked behind him and saw her, but before he opened his mouth Clarisse shook her head at him, staying near the door she waited. She didn't know why she didn't want to stay with you, she was always curious what your eye color was, but she still had that unfamiliar feeling of embarrassment.

“No … she uhm isn't,” Will answered you, and he noticed how your shoulders visibly fell in disappointment. A feeling that maybe Clarisse didn’t like you flooded your mind but you quickly tried to brush it off.

Will finally had the bandages off and started to unstitch your eyes, right before he finished Clarisse had left, not wanting you to see her.

You quickly opened your eyes, looking around, everything was so bright. You smiled and thanked Will, walking towards a mirror and pausing in fright right in front of it.

There were scars left behind, you were disappointed, you felt ugly and all you wanted to do was talk to Clarisse, but you had no idea what she looked like.

“They'll disappear eventually don't worry Y/n” Will comforted you and you only nodded and smiled. When you walked around Camp you asked some campers where Clarisse was but they all either said they didn't know, or it was best if you didn't know.

After an hour of searching you went back to your cabin defeated, it was nearly noon and campers were leaving to go get dinner, but you weren't feeling hungry.

As you grabbed onto the railing, a habit of yours two hands covered your eyes which made you let out a yell.

“Sorry!” the voice responded, and you immediately knew who it was. You turned around and saw her in all her glory, Clarisse.

She was pretty … really pretty. You furrowed your brows together, forgetting why you were upset for a moment until you remembered.

“I don't want to talk to you,” you spoke before turning around and walking up the stairs. Clarisse was quick to follow “Wait!” she grabbed your shoulder and turned you towards her, her hand running down to hold on to your arm.

She stared into your eyes for a few moments, memorizing the colors and the way your pupils changed sizes when you looked at her.

“Stop looking at them,” she looked puzzled for a second “At what?”

“My scars,” you answered as you turned to look away, a part of you didn't want her to see you looking like this, “Why? They look badass” she mumbled, bringing her hands to gently touch them, which for a moment startled you until her fingertips started to feel nice against your skin.

“You weren't there,” you mumbled quietly looking back at her, “I was … just didn't want you to see me.” she spoke softly back, her eyes still memorized by you, “But Will said-”

“I told him to lie,” she responded quickly, her hand finally dropping, leaving your skin feeling colder than before. “Why?”

“I just … was feeling insecure, wanted to look my best for you.” She spoke with a smile, and you took the time to lock away the memory of what her first smile looked like. “And why would you want that?” you asked even softer, allowing Clarisse’s hands to travel down your arms towards your hands.

“Are you blind?” she asked in a bit of an aggressive voice, which startled you for a moment, but you did tell her you wanted to see all of her one day. “I like you.” She admitted shamefully, her hands trying to reach for your hips.

While she waited for a response, she prayed to any god or goddess to help her, she wanted this to work out.

“Do you think I would have stayed around to listen to you tell me about cartons if I didn’t like you.” She spoke up once more which made you smile, and Clarisse took notice of how your eyes and nose scrunched together when you smiled at her.

She liked it.

You both moved closer, not realizing it at first “I like how you aren't disappointed in how I am … or what my hands have done in the past.” she mumbled before she quickly kissed you. Her hands tighten around your waist.

Through each kiss she mumbled another thing she liked about you, trying to convince you more that she liked you.

“You're the person I want to crawl home for.” She admitted as she pulled away from your lips, her hands still in the loopholes of your shorts.

You smiled and brought your hand up to touch her face, and you took notice of how she flushed a darker red at the touch of you. “I like you too Clarisse,” you smiled as you kept your eyes connected to hers.

For a moment you forgot about everything until you heard a voice in the background, it was Chiron clearing his throat, “You ladies best get to dinner.” He let out a soft chuckle as he walked away.

#percy jackon and the olympians #x reader #clarisse la rue #clarisse x reader #wlw #percy jackson #camp half blood #dior goodjohn

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overtail · 1 month

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Sick - Sokka x Reader 🔞

🪃💢

Summary: Sokka gets hurt after (Y/N) distracts him during a battle, setting off an argument. They make up in an... unusual way..

Reader Info: Female, Non bender, competitive

Warning: NSFW, Cursing, slight sexism, rough sex, underage, oral, fingering, both subs because they're teens for gods sake

A/N: This is my first time writing smut......

...

(Y/N) sat next to Katara as the light from the campfire reflected onto her face, creating a warm glow against her skin. She picked a piece off of her cod flounder, throwing it in her mouth and chewing quietly.

Aang and Katara were chatting, Toph Joining in every few seconds. They were talking about something aimless -- a conversation they wont remember in a week's time.

The air was uncomfortable, especially with Sokka's glaring. Every so often, (Y/N) would glance across the way, only to see Sokka giving her a nasty side eye.

She was getting tired of it -- she wasn't one to take disrespect like that. Sokka may think that he was some big, strong, scary man, but (Y/N) could make him cower with one yell.

"Right, (Y/N)?"

Katara elbowed her, bringing (Y/N) out of her brooding.

"What?"

She looked to the ground with embarrassment from the lack of listening. Katara isn't one to care, but there was still the shame.

"Oh, me and Aang were just-"

She began, looking down at my slumped over figure. Before she could finish, she was interrupted.

"She's probably thinking about how to sabotage me again."

(Y/N) looked up at Sokka as was barking out the rude comment, rolling his blue eyes. Katara crooked her neck to glance at him too, raising a brow at his remark. (Y/N)'s eyebrows furrowed, head tilting to the side teasingly.

"What did you just say to me Sokka?"

She knew damn well what he said. She just wanted to know if he had the balls to repeat himself. Sokka stood up walking, a bit closer to the log that (Y/N) and Katara were sat.

"I said.."

(Y/N) got up, making her way over to Sokka.

"You're probably thinking about how you're going to sabotage me again."

(Y/N) scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Sabotage you? Why can't you just accept that you suck at fighting?"

She barked back, leaning closer to him. She poked his chest, pushing him back a little bit. (Y/N) looked at the black eye he had gained from the 'sabotage'.

"Oh no, no, no. Do you find joy in my pain?"

Sokka avoided the question, turning his head to the side. (Y/N) shook her head in disbelief, looking at her feet and back up at Sokka again.

She pushed him back, emiling angrily.

"At this point, i really do. Your face looks better with that black eye."

(Y/N) teased, pointing at his purple bruise. Sokka just scoffed, pushing her back. He didn't care one bit that she was a girl -- that was clearly established when she said she was better than him.

"You're just jealous. Jealous you're a horrible person, sick girl who doesn't know how to get better."

(Y/N) was actually taken aback by this, like she was being stabbed in the back by his words. She heard a gasp from Katara, and a light giggle from Toph. (Y/N) grinned. She began to laugh, looking at Katara and to Aang. Sokka looked at her cautiously, watching as she laughed like a crazy person, tears running down her red cheeks.

"Jealous? Me? Jealous of you? I'd have to be the most pathetic person to want to be like you, Sokka."

(Y/N) walked past him, into the wall of trees that was behind him. She kept on laughing, shaking her head in disbelief at the words. She didn't quite know how to feel, but she just wanted to be left alone. To cry and scream in her faraway tent, to drown in her emotions.

But of course, Sokka had to always get the last word in.

She heard his footsteps getting louder and louder as her laughing faded into soft cries, her legs shaking as she tried to get to her tent as fast as possible. She needed to hide away, and she didn't want Sokka out of all people to see her broken heart.

"(Y/N), this isn't over!"

Somka said, grabbing onto her bicep. She ripped her arm from his grasp, avoiding talking to him. Tent. Get to your tent.

"(Y/N)! Come on-"

She tried to ignore his calling as much as she could, reaching out to the entrance of her tent. Before she could unclasp the buttons, she was whipped around, coming face to face -- well, face to chest -- with Sokka.

She looked up to his face, face full of rage. Somka had never seen her like this before, even while fighting the people she hated most.

"What could you possibly need to say that is so important you need to follow me to my fucking tent!"

(Y/N) yelled, her eyes shutting tightly. A few furious tears escaped her glossy eyes, falling onto the dirt in front of her feet.

"You know, you're a real piece of work (Y/N).."

"Guess what? You make me SICK Sokka!"

"Can you just shut up already?"

She scoffed, pushing Sokka once again. He stepped closer to her, reaching behind her neck and bringing her close.

"I'll give you another black eye-"

"Just shut up!"

Before she could react, before she could say the next rude comment, Sokka's warm lips crashed into her's. She didn't even have time to react, only instinctively leaning into his touch.

(Y/N) felt Sokka's hands fall from the tape of her neck to her lower back, bringing their flush bodies together.

She reached up to grab his shoulders, bringing him down so he was pushing against her even more. Before they both ran out of air, Sokka broke the connection, quickly leaning back and his face growing red.

"I'm so sorry (Y/N)-"

(Y/N) reached up, gracing her fingers across her lips in surprise. She wasn't even looking at him, just at her chest rising up and down slowly. She glanced up, watched as Sokka stammered out an apology.

"It's.. It's fine."

She was also red, smiling nervously at his gaze.

"I mean if it wasn't.. i wouldn't have kissed back."

(Y/N) looked to the ground bashfully, which was such a strange sight for Sokka. She was abrasive, aloof, and very strong hearted -- but this, this was different. And he didnt quite know how to feel about it.

Sokka stepped forward slowly, reaching up to place his palm on her face. He brought her chin up, looking to the ground on his left. God, he was nervous. What was he doing?

(Y/N) looked at him, smirking slightly. She was back, and Sokka felt a flutter in his stomach.

This time, the kiss was soft, slow, and tender. It was much more calm, which was good for both of them.

"Do you want to go inside my tent?"

(Y/N) said in a semi whisper, raising both of her brows. Sokka nodded, not quite knowing where this would go. (Y/N) let go of him, turning to unclasp the entrance of the tent behind them. She crouched down, stepping into the flaps and disappearing into the tent. Sokka stood there for a moment, trying to process what was really going on. This was something from his dreams; the nights he stayed up with his hands in his pants, whimpering her name as images flashed through his mind.

Sokka got on his knees, shuffling into the tent. As he glanced into the warmly lit place, he was surprised to see (Y/N) shrugging her shirt off, her shoulder exposed as well as her bra.

"Oh- sorry-"

(Y/N) laughed, turning around to grab his hand before he laughed.

"I'm doing this so you can see, stupid."

Sokka blushed, nodding his head cautiously. He sat on the felt that lined the floor of the tent. Rubbing his hands over the familiar feeling over the cloth, his attention was caught by a cold hand on his shoulder. He looked up, only to see (Y/N) nervously sitting on her knees in front of him in her undergarments.

"Oh.. oh spirits.."

He said, drinking in her body. His eyes glanced over every curve, every perfect imperfection, every freckles and every mole. He smiled, looking at her onxe again before giving her a deep kiss.

The two leaned back onto the make-ship bed, his hands caressing her sides. (Y/N) tugged at his shirt, causing him to break the kiss.

"You okay?"

Sokka didn't really know what he was doing. Hes only kissed a few girls before, like Suki or Yue, even girls back at home, but anything past that was untouched territory.

"You think you should take your clothes off? At least the over clothes."

(Y/N) suggested nervously, smiling softly. Somka let out a quick 'oh yeah', before leaning back and taking his shirt off. He kicked off his boots, taking his pants off. He shuffled his shirt off.

When he looked back down at (Y/N) he saw that she wasn't quite staring at his face, or even his chest. It was just a quick glare, but he knew what she was looking at.

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that.."

The painful warmth in his crotch only grew more at the sight of her looking at his erection. She just laughed slightly, rolling her eyes.

"It's a good thing, Sokka."

Sokka smiled, shuffling over to where (Y/N) laid. He dipped down, his lips being placed against hers in an instant. He gripped her waist, dragging her closer to his hips.

The kisses were messy, sloppy with spit and their tongues lapping the sides of each others mouths. Both Sokka and (Y/N) wanted more; no, needed more.

"Sokka, can we try something?"

(Y/N) whispered against his lips, and was only greeted with an eager nod. She grabbed one of his hands that was on her waist, bringing it over to her crotch. He placed it on her underwear, not quite knowing what to do.

She grabbed the side of her panties, moving it to the side to expose her. Sokka's eyes widened at the sight, it being the opposite of what he expected. He looked over the folds, the bud at the top, and of course, the inviting entrance. She swallowed hard, trying to focus on the task at hand.

"Okay so.."

(Y/N) grabbed his hand, making a fist with his fingers. She grabbed his ring finger, showing it to him.

"You want to put this in there."

She gestures to her hole, which was wet with her slick.

"O-okay."

Sokka stuttered out. (Y/N) let go of his hand, and he took a deep breath. The tip of his finger grazed the entrance, before quickly delving into her. He eyes widened, thighs almost closing at the intrusion.

"So, you're gonna want to curl-"

Before she could finish her sentence, Sokka curled his finger, his long digit reaching the right spot. (Y/N) let out an unexpected moan, slapping her hand over her face. Sokka grew harder at the sight, and then did it again. She was more quiet this time, but the sound still made him feel amazing. After a few minutes, she was a squealing mess. Without asking, Sokka added his middle finger, causing (Y/N) to moan aggressively.

The sound was amazing, like something you could listen to over and over again and never get tired of it. He repeated the motions, eliciting groans from her sweet mouth.

(Y/N) began to grow aware of Sokka's painful erection, and no matter how good this felt, she knew this would feel better. She grabbed his wrist, which woke him up from his trance.

"Do you want to.."

She said, looking at his member. Sokka blushed, nodding quickly. He removed his fingers from her, glancing up before grabbing the band of his boxers. He slipped them off, and felt the relief of the cold air on him.

(Y/N) was staring. Staring hard. Was he too small? Did he not look right? Was there something wrong?

"Holy.."

Sokka had a good 6 inches on him, which was great for a teenager. (Y/N) was pulsing at the sight of him, her slick dripping down her ass.

"Okay, so.."

(Y/N) sat up, moving so she was on her hands and knees and her ass was facing Sokka.

"I think this is how you do it."

Sokka nodded. This was the most quiet shes ever heard him be, a whole new side of the boy.

He shuffled forward, grabbing his dick with his hand and lining himself up with her.

"Now, don't put it in my- augh!'

Her sentence was interrupted with a moan as he shoved himself in aggressively. He whimpered audibly, not used to the new feeling.

"Oh my spirits.."

He groaned, pulling himself out before sliding back in. (Y/N) moaned again, gripping the felts beneath her hands. Sokka repeated the motion, speeding up every time. Soon, you could hear the sound of skin slapping against skin, (Y/N) letting out small 'ah, ah, ah's. Sokka was letting a stream of curses fall from his lips, a familiar knot in his stomach forming.

"(Y/N).."

He moaned, grabbing onto her soft waist.

"I need to tell you- AUGH- something.."

(Y/N) tightened around Sokka, which only made his growing orgasm arrive sooner.

"You can be rude to me- ah- later!"

She said in a strained voice. Everything felt so otherworldly, like they were the only teeo people in the universe.

"Not that."

He said with a grunt, his hands tracing over her ass as he grinded harder and harder.

"Im-"

He began but realized he was about to cum. He jolted forward, trying to hold it back. That single movement pushed (Y/N) over the edge, shaking and moaning with her orgasm.

"I'm in love with-"

As the words slipped out, so did his arrival. She grabbed her waist tight, enough to bruise, and pushed into her.

"-youaughhh.."

His words were mixed with moans, his white liquid coating the inside of her. He pulled himself out, and saw his cum dripping from her pussy. He asshole was pulsating, her legs quivering, and her waist had tiny fingerprints from his grasp.

(Y/N) flopped down onto her bed, not caring about cleaning up. On the other hand, Sokka was trying to grab a hand towel as fast as he could. He reached over, softly wiping the white liquid from her and her bed. She sighed, rolling over onto her back. Sokka tossed the towel to the side, looking at her panting body from above.

"I'm not a virgin anymore."

He spat out with a toothy grin, making her roll her eyes.

"We're on the same page here."

...

EXTRA!!

Katara rubbed her eyes, stepping out of her tent and into the bright morning light. She had gotten absolutely no sleep last night. Unlike Toph and Aang who could sleep through a tornado, she was kept up all night by (Y/N) and Sokka's 'make up sex'.

She glanced over to the campfire, which occupied Sokka roasted a frog. She stomped over, punching him right in the jaw so he fell over on his side.

"What was that for?"

He asked, looking at Katara like she was insane.

"For keeping me up all night! You deserve two black eyes you little-"

Sokka scrambled up, running into the forest as Katara ran after him.

#avatar the last airbender #fandom #fanfic #fluff #katara #sokka #sokka x reader #smut #make up sex #virginity loss

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tsimvkas · 7 months

Text

you’re my medicine — mason mount

A/N: hii, this is just a little something i wrote for d since she’s struggling with pain ☹️ i hope you get well soon my princess xx

word count: 1k | masterlist

content: mason taking care of reader, fluff

You knew something was wrong when you came home from work Friday night. You had a long day, and your legs were starting to feel like jelly.

Thinking it was due the amount of time you spent standing and that you were just tired, you went upstairs to take a shower.

Soon you realised that it would be a difficult task when you stepped on the first step and your thighs burnt with excruciating pain.

You groaned, throwing your bag near the stairs and slowly walking to your sofa. Mason wouldn’t be home for at least one more hour and you didn’t feel like forcing yourself.

So you curled on your sofa instead, feeling drained and emotional. You wanted to scream and cry, and sleep, and take a hot shower, and you wanted the pain to go away but it didn’t happen.

You fell asleep within minutes, too tired from your day, and Mason found you curled up still in your work clothes.

He admired you for a minute, but then realised your face wasn’t relaxed as it should be. Wondering why you were sleeping in the living room instead of going upstairs, he knelt down beside you and brushed your hair out of your face.

“Babe?” Mason murmured after kissing your forehead. “What’s wrong?”

You stirred, slowly waking up, and Mason smiled when your eyes fluttered open. “Uhm?”

“Hi baby girl. What happened? Why are you here and not in our bed?” Suddenly, the pain hit you with full force and you groaned, biting your lower lip. “Y/N? Hey, c’mon. I’m here, uh? What do you need?”

His thumb stroking your jaw distracted you from it for a few seconds, and you let out a heavy sigh. “My legs hurt. I don’t know why, but my thighs burn and is the worst pain I’ve ever felt”

His face instantly contorted with concern. “You had any medicine?”

“I couldn’t go upstairs” you pouted, feeling your eyes watering. Being in Mason’s presence meant you didn’t have to think or to be tough. You can be a sensitive baby and he’ll take care of you.

“It’s okay” he kissed your forehead again, passing an arm behind your knees and the other grabbed your back. You groaned when he lifted you, tucking your face into the crook of his neck and spilling hot tears. “Sorry” he whispered with guilt, and even in so much pain you could feel your heart ache with love.

How can someone be so precious?

Mason took you upstairs carefully, and when you thought he was putting you in bed he went straight to your shared bathroom.

Sitting you on the counter, he started to undress you whilst filling the bath with hot water.

“You should take your shower first, Mase”

“We had this discussion already last time. You always come first” he kissed the tip of your nose, carrying you to the bath. “The hot water will relax your muscles. Enjoy it a bit, uh? I’ll be right back”

You nodded at him, closing your eyes and trying to relax. The warmth helped, but you could still feel the burning sensation.

Mason went downstairs, looking for something easy and quick to cook for you, remembering his mom left her best soup in the freezer when she came to visit last week. “Soup then” he murmured to himself, warming it up.

When he came back upstairs, Mason left the soup on the bedside table and entered the bathroom.

“Ready to go to bed?” he smiled, walking towards you and massaging your shoulders. You hummed and nodded, melting against his hands. “Alright princess, let’s go”

He took you in his arms without worrying about getting wet, and helped you dry off, dressing you in his shirt before tucking you in bed. You groaned and whined during the whole process, and Mason’s heart pounded every time, wanting nothing more than to take your pain away.

“Here” he gave you a painkiller and the bottle of water he always left on the bedside table — he’s a thirsty man. You always complained about taking medicine and Mason knows the pain is on another level when you take in in silence. “I’ll take a quick shower and I’ll be right back. Mom’s soup is here but I think is still pretty hot”

You nodded, wanting him to relax a bit in his shower instead of worrying about you. “Don’t rush your shower babe. I need you to smell nice for me” you winked, making him giggle.

“Oh so I don’t smell nice for you right now?” he teased, tickling your cheeks. “See you in a minute”

You stayed quiet, still feeling your thighs aching. It was so distressing, you wanted to take them off.

The only thing distracting you from the excruciating pain was your boyfriend hummering Justin Bieber’s songs in his shower. He was so unbelievably cute.

Mason came back to look for his shorts in his closet, only with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“You gotta be kidding me” you murmured, jokingly. “I can’t barely feel my legs and you thought it would be nice to show half naked?”

“Half?” he smirked, letting the towel fall and giving you a vision of his naked body before wearing his shorts.

“Fuck off” you rolled your eyes, but your red cheeks gave you away. Mason laughed loudly, crawling to you.

“Uhm, what about eating your soup now?”

“Give me a kiss first” you pouted, smiling when he brushed his lips against yours without even teasing first. His hand went straight to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. It was a loving kiss, his tongue sliding calmly between your lips, caring and passionate.

“Soup. Now” he whispered, making you laugh. Mason fed you in the mouth, joking about you being a big baby and calling you his good girl when you finished.

Then he laid on his back, waiting for you to cuddle him in the most comfortable and less painful position for you.

“Thank you” you whispered against his neck, playing with the hem of his shorts. “I’m feeling much better now”

“Thanks to the medicine, shower and soup, silly” he kissed the top of your head, hugging you tightly.

“None of it would be possible without you, since I couldn’t even get upstairs, so I got better when you showed up. Coincidence? I don’t think so” you tickled his waist. “You are my medicine, Mason Mount”

#✧･ﾟ: *✧ tsimvkas — works #mason mount fics #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagines #mason mount x y/n

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everythingne · 5 months

Text

marketing ploy - ln4 ch7

Lando recovers. McLaren and Red Bull own up. Olivia and Lando decide the future, and give Oscar a heart attack while doing so. We get our happy ending.

piastri!oc x lando norris, bestfriends brother/fake dating

warnings/notes: hospital visits, mentioned injuries, loopiness from medication, pregnancy/sex jokes, media being bitches, lando going 'guys i gotta keep her' and doing the absolute MOST lmao, this is also TECHNICALLY the last chapter but im gonna write more for olivia and lando most def (also olivia will feature as oscars sister in other fics bc i love her)

prev |

I haven't run in years.

I can feel the burn of the air in my lungs as I force them open, adrenaline making every rib shake as I suck in a breath and force it back out. My shoes slam into the floor of the paddocks, sending jolts up my legs as I whisk my bag over my shoulder and 'just go' as Christian had said. My mind is swimming with a thousand thoughts. What if he was seriously injured? He was able to walk, but he collapsed, was it his legs? Or his ribs? What if it's his back? Or his arms? How long will he be out? Is this a whole-season issue or just a few weeks?

Fuck, I cannot be thinking about this right now.

I sweep the room quickly to make sure I have everything, patting my pockets to check for my phone--which is nestled in the back left pocket of my jeans, before whirling around and out of the room.

Once I'm out of the paddocks and towards the exits, where it opens a bit more, the wind whisks into my skin and bites me as I use one hand to dig through the side pocket to find Lando's car keys. I can't steady my hands, even when I'm trying to control their shake, they just get worse. Whether it's fear or anxiety, I find it plain annoying as I struggle to get the small keychain out of my bag. Lando had driven me here from the hotel and shoved the keys in my bag since he didn't walk in with his bag and didn't want to lose the car keys.

Luckily, he had, because talking to anyone in this state would be a bust. I could feel my attitude snipping at my heart as people shouted my name at me. I couldn't stop. I had to find Lando. I knew what hospital he'd be taken to, I had to get there in one piece.

And it was going to be hard with the fucking media right here.

A few reporters try to follow me, but I'm able to slip through the crowds like water. Once I make it to the parking lot, a woman steps in front of me with her camera held high and I shout.

"Can you fucking move?!" And shove her to the side as I zip out of the lot. Fuck the standards, fucking being polite, I'll ask for forgiveness later. And apologize, probably.

Throwing my bag haphazardly into the car, I follow suit and slam the door. There's time here for me to scream, cry, and rage in semi-private, but I bite back the bubble in my throat, throwing my seatbelt on and turning on the car's engine. I wait no time to slam the car forward into first gear, pulling out of the lot with shaking hands. My hands slip with sweat as I try when I remember his McLaren's manual. Cursing, I force myself to revert back to the car I drove in high school as my hands dance across the car in perfected practice.

Thank god I still have that going for me.

The highway is empty, where I thought there'd be lines of traffic there are only a few sparse cars. I slam the car as hard as it can go, watching the ticking of the speedometer, 50... 60... 70... 80...

I look behind me, merging into the fast lane and gunning it even harder. The car sings, and I feel an odd rush of momentary euphoria.

I hit around 165kpm at some point. The car doesn't even shake, it seemingly glides along with my movements, I hear sirens, I don't know if they're for me but I'm not staying to find out. I press harder, merging to the off-ramp and taking it, barely registering what's around me as I slam on my brakes and slip into the traffic near the hospital.

It feels good to drive like that. Maybe I should get back into racing at some point.

Once the McLaren is parked in a back corner of the hospital lot, I grab my bag, rip myself out of the car, and slam it shut, and triple-check it's locked. I turn and book it into the hospital, trying to breathe steady enough to keep myself from losing my shit. It feels like I can't run fast enough, slipping into the hospital and around people who dodge my clearly rushed pace. I pause in front of a desk, panicked and out of breath when someone comes to my side.

"Hi, honey, who are you lookin' for?" A kind nurse says, her hand finding my arm to apply soothing pressure as she notices the fear in my movements. I thought I was hiding it better than I was, I guess. I take a slow breath and let the shake in my hands come in, no longer holding everything back.

"Lando Norris, he just came in with Formula One?" I ask and the woman nods. She asks to see my ID and I fish out my license and Red Bull card to verify my employment.

"Olivia!" A voice shouts as my items are handed back when I'm cleared, and Jon comes up to my side, pointing at my head.

"You still have your headset on." He says softly and I look him up and down, pointing at him.

"So do you," I say. We pause and fall into soft laughter as I pull the headset down to my neck. Jon takes me by the elbow further into the hospital, out of the view of some of the reporters who try to snap photos of us as they're shoved out by the security. I hadn't even seen them when I made my way inside. Through the winding halls, and down to a smaller section of the hospital, Jon brings me to the door to what I assume is Lando's room.

"He's fine." Jon starts with, which eases me immediately, "He's a bit banged up, they think he might have broken or bruised one of his ribs. He's really out of it, the painkillers made him super loopy. Just a forewarning, he's also been dipping in and out of consciousness so don't be alarmed. It's just the painkillers."

"Is his family here yet?" I ask, looking at the door, and Jon shakes his head no once I look back at him.

"They're driving at normal speeds, so no. I don't wanna know how you got here so fast." He steps forward and knocks. A nurse pops open the door and welcomes us inside, Jon stays back while I make my way to the bedside. Lando's wearing a tee shirt and some loose sports shorts, he looks exhausted. I can see bruising on his legs as I nurse tosses the blanket over him as if trying to hide it from me.

"Here!" She pulls up a chair happily and I thank her as I sit down on it, taking my bag off and setting it on the floor, dropping my headphones in. I sigh, taking Lando's hand and feeling his pulse as if the machine that literally tells me that is lying. It feels good to feel his heart thrum under my skin and I kiss his wrist where the pulsepoint is.

"My girlfrien's not g'nna like you doin' that." Lando tries to take his hand from me, Jon snorting in the doorway. I let go of him and laughed softly, leaning up to brush his hair back from his face, the longer curls sticking to his forehead. He's still got the lines from his helmet and balaclava, and I trace one with my finger as he gives me the nastiest stink eye I've ever seen him muster.

"Hi, Lando." I croon, and he whines, slowly rolling his head to the side.

"I have a girlfriend." He states, poking my hand to push it away from him and I send him an odd look. Jon walks over and I can see he's recording, which makes a small amused smile poke at my lips.

"Lando," I laugh softly and Lando whacks my hands away softly, fighting through the weariness of his pain medication to wave his arms.

"I have a girlfriend." He pouts, laying his hands still at his side. I just laugh again, and Lando shouts in his dreary state, "It's not funny! I do!"

"Shush, shh, Lando." I stand and push my chair back a bit as I stifle my laugh into the back of my hand.

Jon calls from where he stands, attempting to help me not laugh by giving me something new to focus on, "Who's your girlfriend, Lando?"

"Olivia. Oscar's sister, which he was actually not happy about at first but I convinced him I was cool--" Lando keeps rambling on until I lift my hand and cup his cheek, running my thumb under his eye as I speak softly.

"Lando, baby, I am your girlfriend." I put a hand on my chest, "I am Olivia."

Lando blinks, eyes settling on me before he gasps and leans up to grab my face and pull me down for a litter of soft pecks to my cheeks and face. I catch myself on the bed and laugh, catching his lips as he happily grins up at me. It's all doe eyes, lovesick smiles on his lips as he keeps his hands tight on my face.

"Hi, baby." He whispers, bringing me in for another kiss and I detach one of his hands so it can rest by his side. I slowly situate him against the blankets with the help of Jon, and sit a bit closer to the head of the bed so Lando can be close enough to me. He keeps one of his hands in mine and I slowly run my thumb along his knuckles.

"Well, Mr. Norris!" A piercing voice calls, a young woman stepping into the room with a bit of an excited flourish, "You are all set! Jon's gonna look over your scans, specifically for those bruised ribs. We're thinking it'll be about three or four weeks of healing, and he's gonna make that like--workout plan and stuff with your personal doctor."

"Ah, thank you, Doctor." Lando smiles, watching as the doctor hands Jon some papers to look over. She smiles at me, a hint of recognition in her eyes.

"Olivia, right?" She asks and I nod, shaking her outstretched hand.

"I'm glad you made it here, Lando was waiting for you a bit impatiently." She kept her happy smile, rocking from foot to foot, "Kept asking us where you were, or when you'd get here. You've got a good man on your hands here, sweetheart."

"I know." My heart is bursting, "He's shown me that over and over."

11 JULY, ENGLAND. ↴

oliviapiastri and landonorris have posted new stories!

mclaren has made a new post!

liked by oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell, danielricciardo, and 876k others..

Thank you once again to @ oliviapiastri for taking care of our #4 and providing the team with love and some pics while he was recovering! Lando is at home now, and our official statement on the accident and other situations this season has been posted on our website.

View the story: McLaren.uk/formula1/landoolivia...

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mclaren.uk...

OFFICIAL STATEMENT ON SITUATIONS BETWEEN LANDO NORRIS AND OLIVIA PIASTRI THIS SEASON.

WRITTEN BY STEVE ATKINS (M), ON BEHALF OF ZAK BROWN (M), ANDREA STELLA (M), ALICE MCLOUGHLIN (ORBR), ASTRID MARINA (UNAFF.), ADA LUANNE (UNAFF.), CHRISTIAN HORNER (OBRB), AND HIMSELF.

On the 22nd of February this year, Lando Norris (MCLAREN F1 TEAM, DRIVER) and Olivia Piastri (ORACLE RED BULL, HEAD OF ANALYSIS) were pulled into the office of Christian Horner (ORACLE RED BULL, TEAM PRINCIPAL) in Bahrain. A deal was struck between both parties and their corresponding teams to create a fake dating scenario, capitalizing on the tensions between Oracle Red Bull Racing and the McLaren F1 Team to push ticket and merchandising sales. This fake relationship was planned to eventually leak in PR and Social Media Strategy, however, due to Norris' crash in Silverstone, the entire program has been canceled. The program was also discovered by F1 Stewards upon investigation after Olivia's reaction to the accident cemented rumors in the media of the two dating. Both the McLaren F1 Team and Oracle Red Bull are under investigation, and fines are yet to be announced.

Norris and Piastri chose not to be a part of this statement and can be expected to make their own statements in the coming weeks.

On July 9th of this year, Lando Norris was involved in an accident in the pitlane of Silverstone. Engineers have determined this was caused by an overheating of brake lines that didn't allow Norris to stop his vehicle along with worn tires. No fines have been placed at this moment.

Olivia Piastri will return to work with Red Bull remotely immediately and will be in-person by Zandvoort. Lando Norris will return to racing with McLaren by Zandvoort and will be replaced by reserve driver Bianca Bustamente for the time being. Neither Norris nor Piastri will be fined for involvement with the media stunt, or with the accident as of this moment.

20 JULY, LONDON ↴

There’s a sort of haze around me as I blink sleep from my eyes. A warm pressure on my left makes me look to the side. Lando’s face is squished against my chest, soft snores leaving his slightly parted lips and rolling across my bare skin that pokes out from under my tank top. I take a moment to take it all in, how we’d gotten here, how we were, and I can’t help but roll to pull him closer to me and curl him inside my arms as I pepper a few kisses to his hairline.

How did I ever not like him? He's a fucking saint.

Lando, a heavy sleeper until I started sleeping in the same bed, noticed immediately and grabbed my waist with groggy whines about how tired he was. I coax him back to sleep, kissing his hairline and gently massaging his back until the snores return and I smile at Lando’s sleeping face.

“Awake yet?” Oscar calls from the door, and I wave. He laughs under his breath, waving me over, and it takes a bit of grace to detach myself from Lando. Once I do, I grab one of the spare throw blankets off the floor from where Lando had kicked it and slip over to where Oscar is standing by the door as I wrap it around me to keep out the morning chill.

“He’s exhausted. I think all the stress of the season is catching up on him.” I rub sleep from my face, and Oscar nods, handing me a piece of toast like a peace offering. I take it and tilt my head at him.

“They’re fining McLaren and Red Bull a lot for this stunt. It just came out.” Oscar hums, “said it’s a breach of contract and a risk for documents to be shared amongst the teams…”

My heart jumps to my throat, and I look at Lando’s sleeping form as he rolls into where my fading body heat is still in the blankets, “they want us to split?”

“Well. Lando’s contract ends with McLaren this year.” Oscar paused to take a sip of his coffee before leaning in to whisper, “and you didn’t hear it from me, but Christian has been looking at grabbing him for a few years now.”

“Is Checo moving?” I ask because I know Max wouldn’t leave Red Bull unless we forced him out by dragging him by his ankles.

“I dunno.” Oscar grins, stepping back and whacking my shoulder, “but you can date within your garage, so.”

With that, he walks away and I turn back to Lando as he starts to stir. I lean on the doorframe and watch as he blearily blinks his eyes open, hands searching for me in the covers until he lifts his head to see me off in the doorway.

“C’mere.” he croaks, and I smile, pushing off the doorframe and walking over to sit on the edge of the bed as he wraps his arms around my waist and rests his head on my thighs.

I can’t imagine him in navy. But it might look good on him.

25TH JULY, LONDON ↴

“is Max positive?” Lando pokes his head into the kitchen doorway, looking at the island where I’m staring at my laptop. I look up and shrug, sending an email back to Christian about the fines and the media being on his ass for the whole stunt.

“Kylie said it’ll be here in five minutes,” I reply, refreshing my email as if that will make the minutes suddenly not matter and for the email to pop up. Apparently, Max had gotten sick right before the next race. While I was home with Lando to make sure he wasn’t being strenuous and to keep media off my back until everything died down, they had to do a COVID test on Max and isolate him just in case.

“It would suck if he's out for his home race this year." Lando wanders into the kitchen and pulls up a stool next to me as he sets his phone down on the counter. He’s been living in Oscar and my apartment for the past few days, just until next week when he goes back to McLaren's training center for a bit to do a lot of physical therapy before getting in the car next weekend for Zandvoort.

Oscar calls my phone, and I stand up, telling Lando to keep checking my email as I make my way over to the other side of the kitchen to grab my phone.

“Yes, bitch?” I say into the phone and Oscar laughs at my sharp tone.

“Just checking in on Lando for Zak,” Oscar says and I look behind me and my boyfriend—like, actual boyfriend now, and smile.

“He’s been fine, ribs are still a little sore. I had him doing cardio earlier and he was faring pretty well so I—I think Jon said he can go back to training a bit earlier. He’s still coming back in Zandvoort though.” I hum, “how’s Bia faring?”

“She’s having the time of her life. I gotta start bringing her around more. You guys really would be an unstoppable duo.” Oscar laughs, “But good, Jon is off today so I’ll let Zak know to reach out to him and ask.”

“Ollie!” Lando whines and I turn.

“Yess?” I draw out as I walk to his side.

“It's negative.”

“Oh, thank fucking god.” I breathe, “That makes everything a lot easier for me.”

Oscar is quiet on the line for a few moments before asking in a small voice, “What’s negative?”

“Max’s COVID test. He’s just got the flu.” I say without thinking much of my brother's hesitance before he lets out a soft laugh.

“I thought you took a pregnancy test or something, I was about to start judging the type of cardio you’ve been doing,” Oscar says and I shout,

“Dude!”

“I feel like that’s a reasonable thing to be worried about!”

“Oh my god, we’ve only been actually dating dating for like two weeks!” I groan and Lando sends me a confused look, so I pop Oscar onto speakerphone.

“It only takes like—five minutes to make a kid!”

“Hello?!” Lando shouts and I sink to the floor in a fit of laughter, trying to bite back the volume of my laughter before Lando shouts, "Do you think I fucked your sister?!"

"No! Stop! Stop talking Lando!" Oscar shouts over the phone and now I'm hysterical on the floor in tears as Lando tries to backtrack and Oscar keeps shouting for him to just-- "Shut the fuck up, Lando!"

"Both are you are going to kill me, I'm losing it." I wheeze from where I'm now lying on the floor, Lando laughing alongside me as Oscar groans.

"First the house, now this?" He says and Lando makes some noise in the back of his throat as I manage to calm myself down enough to stand.

"What about a house?" I wipe under my eyes, leaning my head on Lando's shoulder as his arm wraps around my shoulder and he kisses my head, his fingers poking at my side and making me squirm as I push him away with a laugh.

"Nothing, love." Lando sighs, "Remember when they gave me those painkillers that made me super loopy the first night, and Oscar was watching over me?"

I nod, remembering how halfway through my grocery trip he had to call me because Lando was so loopy he thought that I was gone forever. And he had literally cried tears of joy when I answered Oscar's phone call.

"Well, I kinda... oh my god this is so embarrassing." Lando sighs and Oscar tells him he now has to tell the story and Lando hides his face in my hair as he recounts, "I was looking at apartments in London for us."

"Stop, oh my god." I whine, turning to Lando so I can kiss his cheeks and his forehead, pulling him down when he tries to move back so I can't, "That's so cute."

"No, it's embarrassing." He grumbles and I laugh, pulling him closer and kissing along his jaw and then the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose.

"I wouldn't mind that," I murmur to him and his eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, his hands find my waist and he presses a kiss to my lips.

"Ew, I don't like that I can hear him kiss you over the phone." Oscar groans, "I'm hanging up now, don't do anything too strenuous."

"Fuck you, Oscar!" I laugh as the call hangs up, Lando keeping his arms firmly around my waist. We sit in silence for a few moments before his hand ghosts up the side of my neck to take my jaw in his palm, thumb hooking on my chin to pull me down to look at him.

"Would you seriously not mind?" He asks softly and I grin, leaning over to pop a quick kiss on his lips.

"Getting to have you with me every day?" I bring our foreheads together, his curls against my own as his hands find my waist to hold, my hands resting on his shoulders as I grin and flutter my eyes closed, "That's paradise."

"I'll literally buy one right now, don't even test me." He groans, pulling me closer and I laugh.

"Let's get Zandvoort out of the way first, yeah?"

JULY 28TH, TWITTER ↴

AUGUST 27TH, THE NETHERLANDS ↴

Luckily for me, I made it into the paddocks long before any media people. Max welcomes me with a slap on the back as I welcome him to his home race, and then I'm greeted by the Ferrari drivers once again as Checo laughs at my bewildered expression.

"I'm gonna tell the Tifosi on you both." I huff, but let both Charles and Carlos wrap me in tight hugs of congratulations as we laugh. Once the two are carted off to go do their actual jobs, I get settled in my chair and glance down at my desk before laughing.

A vase of freshly cut flowers and a little cup of coffee sits there, waiting for me, and I turn to look at Max who just grins.

"He's determined." Is all Max says before slipping away as he's called over to get dressed. I laugh and send Lando a quick thank you message, before taking a sip of the perfectly made coffee and settling down to finally get back into gear.

"Welcome back," A voice chimes and I glance up to see Christian in the doorway. I offer him a small smile and a nod.

"Good to be here." Is all I say in reply.

Lando and Max seriously just want to kill each other in these cars. Max takes the win at his home race by some insignificantly small number, they had to literally watch multiple playbacks to see who crossed first, which means Lando is still in good running for World Champion. Luckily, somehow a mix of car issues and the pure energy from Oscar, Charles, Checo, and Carlos managed to keep Max in P2 for most races, leveling out the chances for Lando to recover his lost points.

As soon as most drivers have returned to their paddocks, I'm mid-packing up when I'm ushered off by Logan, who finished P6. He quite literally hoists me off my feet and carries me into the crowd for the podium. A few other drivers lag back, and I look over to Oscar, who'd finished P4 behind Charles.

"Where's Lando?!" Logan shouts over my head at Oscar, who points, and then leans over to me.

"Here's that kiss they promised you'd have to do," He shouts in my ear and I laugh as the two lift me so I can be partially over the barrier holding back the audience from the racers. I wave Lando down and he laughs, slipping away from a reporter as he finishes an interview. Biting off his glove as he walks over, he drops it into his helmet and then grabs my jaw with that now gloveless hand, pulling me into his lips for a quick peck. I don't let him leave though, grabbing his jaw and pulling him back in for a few more deeper kisses.

Oscar cheers and Logan laughs before Lando secures one arm around me to pull me over the barrier. Logan and Oscar immediately hop over after me.

There's warmth in my chest as Lando keeps his hand on my lower back, pulling me through the crowd of drivers and up to where Max and Charles stand. A giddy excitement thrums across my skin.

I could do this forever.

SEPTEMBER 3RD, INSTAGRAM ↴

oliviapiastri made a new post!

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, charlesleclerc, and 876k others...

oliviapiastri: 6 months <3

charlesleclerc: damn y'all move fast

oscarpiastri: DUDE THIS IS THE FIRST TIME WE ARENT LIVING TOGETHER IN OUR WHOLE LIVES. CHEERS!

maxverstappen: cheers!! looks lovely

user1: THEY LIVE TOGETHER?

alexalbon: DUDE ITS BEEN SIX MONTHS??

⤷ landonorris: I KNOW??

landonorris: omg i can post this publically now

landonorris: i LOVE YOU OLIVIA<333

user2: lando going bat shit in these comments is so real

landonorris: I LOVE U SM DARLING

⤷ oscarpiastri: i liked it better before the FIA made them announce it. i wanna go back in time to before that happened.

⤷ oliviapiastri: get me a tardis then

⤷ bbcdoctorwho: we can make that work ...

⤷ oliviapiastri: HELLO?

user4: dying dead gone deceased i love them

landonorris posted a new story!

#f1 fanfic #ln4 fic #f1 smau #f1 fic #lando norris au #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x oc #oscar piastri fic

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delicatebarness · 3 months

Text

bring him home | chapter one

Summary: It’s been three weeks since she lost almost everything. Her brothers, her best friend, her lover, her father.

Warning: MCU Spoilers. Avengers: Endgame + Captain America: Civil War. Violence. Grief. A Single Mention of Nudity.

Word Count: 1334

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: I’m really enjoying writing this, I haven’t wrote this much so quick in years.

Tags: @crazyforbarnes | @whiminiferous | @armystay89 | @bucky-just-needs-love

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED OR PUBLISHED TO ANY THIRD PARTY SITE OR APP. IF ANYONE SEES MY WORK ANYWHERE BUT HERE, IT HAS BEEN REPOSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION.

Three Weeks.

“Dad?!” You ran towards the ship that landed in your back garden, your dad stood there with Pepper in his fragile arms. He lifted his head, a sigh of relief as he watched you getting closer. His little girl is safe. “Where’s Pete?” His expression changed within an instant, he scanned every inch of your face for a sign. Your eyes were red and puffy. Your face is slimmer than when he last saw you. Thankfully, not as slim as he had gotten. He watched your eyes flickering between the ship, himself and Nebula. He knew you’d already lost one brother, now, he’s witnessing your realisation of losing the other.

“I’m sorry, kid.” He whimpered as your eyes began to tear up as you looked into his own. Within a second, Steve had you nestled into his chest. Not another one, you didn’t think your mind or body could handle any more grief. As soon as your face hit Steves's chest and your body collapsed in his arms, for what felt like the millionth time in three weeks, you let out an uncontrollable scream. Your knees gave way, Steve did not let you fall. Instead, he lifted you and carried you back to your room in the compound.

Once in your room, Steve lay you down on your bed. He didn’t want to leave you, he had watched you grow up since you were 16, from a smart teenager with more compassion than himself at times. To, a resourceful, understanding young woman. He wanted to protect you more now than ever. Shield you away so nothing more could hurt you. Your dad felt the same, it was painful for him to watch Steve carry you to your room instead of him. His weak frame makes it difficult to keep himself up, never mind you.

Your room was like any other basic grey bedroom at the compound. However, you had Vision help you drape fairy lights and ivy all over the walls. Polaroids attached to the strings with clothing pegs, and images of you with various team members looking down at you. Over the last three weeks, if you weren’t crying, you were looking over all these photos. Remembering each loved one as they were and hoping you’ll see them again.

It broke your heart for years that you were never able to add your joyful times with Bucky to your walls. Those were kept in a locked box inside your wardrobe. Polaroids of cuddles in a hut, Bucky throwing around hay with only one arm, even a few x-rated ones which you hoped to Odin no one else ever saw. They were all of Bucky, the ones of yourself were kept with him in Wakanda. And, then there were your letters. There have been a few nights since they all vanished that you’ve fallen asleep surrounded by his handwriting.

Steve stayed with you until your sobs had stopped and you cried yourself to sleep. You didn’t hear him leave, your dreams clouded with memories. Memories of Bucky. Even in your sleep, you could not hide your love and grief for him.

Meet Cute.

You sat in the office watching over the security cameras with Steve, not believing they were treating another human this way. He was locked within a box, strapped down. All he had was a table and a chair in front of it. And, it wasn’t even for him to use. Some interrogator was sat there, asking him questions about his home. You were listening to everything.

You rose to your feet when the power went out, following Steve and Sam to find Bucky. Ignoring your dad's yelling. You started to believe Steve’s theory regarding someone framing his friend. Yes, they say ‘Why did he run if he's innocent?’ But, wouldn’t anyone run if they had someone in a blue soldier uniform with an indestructible shield, someone in a bulletproof catsuit and a guy flying around with mechanical wings chasing them? You knew you would. And, you were someone who had an outfit fitting to that scenario.

His head turns, Bucky or The Winter Soldier you weren’t sure who made direct eye contact with you. Your breath hitched as he dropped the guard currently in a chokehold and made his way towards you. You didn’t move. A hand came up to your throat, pinning you against the wall, tightening by the second. You noticed he hadn’t used his left arm, the silver metal never once touched your skin.

“James? Sorry, I-I know you like to be called B-Bucky but I don’t feel like I know y-you well enough.” You shuttered as his grip grew tighter. “I’m Y/N,” Placing your bare hand onto his wrist against his bare skin, you felt the grip slackening. “I won’t hurt you.” His grip was almost light enough for you to find your feet on the ground again, until…

“Put her down.” Both of your heads turned to where the voice came from, your dad. Palm raised, repulsor ready. You mouthed “no” over and over to him, feeling the grip tighten the longer he stood there. Your dad hits Bucky with a stun-blast which in turn causes him to drop you to the floor. Covering your ears, you sat down with your legs pulled up covering your face. You felt a weight on top of you as another blast went off. Looking up, he was staring down at you as he covered you from your dad’s blasts. Becoming your human shield.

The blasting stopped, Bucky stood up and pounded towards your dad, throwing punches. Your dad blocked almost most of them. He gave as much as he got to.

“Get out of here now!” Your dad yelled at you. You didn’t have your suit, you were no match to The Winter Soldier, it was the safest option. You stood up, legs shaking, as you watched them fight. “Now! Y/N! Go!” He continued to yell as Bucky’s eyes once again found yours. You wanted to stay, something telling you he needed someone to stay.

But, you ran.

Cheeseburgers.

When you woke up, you pulled out your burner phone. You only had three numbers saved, Vision (Baby Brother), Wanda Maximoff (BFF), and James Buchanan Barnes (Old Man). Instinctually calling the number under the name “Old Man” you hoped the ringing would stop and you’d hear his voice. “Hey, Doll.” Nothing. You started to sob as the ringing continued.

You didn’t hear him opening your door and appearing through the gap, he watched you sobbing with the phone pressed against your cheek.

“Hey Kid,” he choked after a beat, snapping out of your trance and hanging the phone up. “Who are you calling?” You shake your head in response, you can’t break the Bucky news to him just yet.

“No one you need to be concerned about, Dad,” giving him a weak smile, he wouldn’t have been concerned, he would have been angry. His little girl, his legacy, is in love with the man who killed his parents and broke his team up. Where did he go so wrong? You got up and helped him further into your room. “How are you feeling?” You lay him on your bed, getting him comfy with all your pillows and throws.

“Oh, never been better,” he joked as he tried to lift himself. “You know, had a planet thrown at me then got stranded in space for three weeks.” You helped him position himself better before getting into your bed and cuddling up to your dad. You didn’t realise until right now just how much you missed him and his humour.

“I’m glad you’re home,” you squeezed his hand while giving him another weak smile. “It’s been far too quiet around here.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He smiled at you, squeezing your hand back, and then sighed. “We should order cheeseburgers.” You let yourself have a small laugh, for the first time in three weeks.

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pretty-blkgirl · 9 months

Text

A Month Later…

PART ONE OF TWO

~Part Two~

//gn!reader x minsung//

Synopsis: When your ex boyfriends finally decide to contact you after a sudden breakup.

Genre: angst

Warnings: poly relationship, characters being insecure, unsupportive parent, crying, arguing, just overall sad af

~~~~|~~~~

You much rather be at home right now, listening to sad music while crying your eyes out over your recent breakup.

A year-long relationship went in the blink of an eye. No warning signs, no indication that it was about to end. Everything was perfect until a week ago. Hell, even that morning was perfect.

The 20 minutes before it happened was perfect.

Everything was amazing until you sat down to “talk about some things”. You had a huge smile on your face because you had just got done eating your favorite dinner- which was prepared for you.

You were so happy. Literally on cloud 9 since the relationship began. Then it happened.

“I think we should break up”

Looking back on things, you hate how you handled it. Your face immediately dropped, then you laughed and begged for this to all be a joke. When you noticed how serious they looked, you swore the room started to spin.

Everything started to ache, from your heart to your head. You felt like throwing up, and incoming sobs started to form in your throat.

However, everything on the outside looked to be normal-ish with you. A couple of tears slipped, and your breathing got quicker, but besides that, you nodded curtly and left the apartment you used to spend every night at.

You wished you would have fought for the relationship. You wished you asked what was wrong, was it a misunderstanding or something?

You didn’t let all your feelings out until you got back to your apartment. You barely closed the door behind you when you collapsed to the ground.

You cried and screamed all night long, even having some neighbors come by to check on you.

It hurt so bad, even more so since the heartbreak was doubled.

You were with them both, Jisung and Minho. You remember the exact day you guys met.

You had a mutual friend; Chan. One day Chan expressed how he wanted you to meet his friends. He was always telling you about how he wanted to meet new people, and he swore that you’d love the group of boys.

After some days of convincing, you begrudgingly agreed.

A few days later, you were at his house waiting for his friends to show up. You ended up making your world-famous brownies- the ones Chan begged you to make whenever you’d come over. He was eating his third brownie when a group of men suddenly barged in the door.

The first one you saw was Changbin. You immediately thought he was handsome, but his body is what made you subtly bite your lip and shamelessly check him out.

He caught you, of course, and walked over with a shit-eating grin.

“You must be y/n?” He asked. You nod and offer him a brownie. He takes it and bites into it, eyes damn near popping out of his head when he does so.

“Yah Yongbok, you have some serious competition” He yelled out, making you flinch at his booming voice but laughing afterward.

Felix comes to you next, politely introducing himself and taking the brownie you offered. You could tell he loved it by the way his eyes lit up.

He was so beautiful, and his freckles only added to the warmness he gave off. He would spend the rest of the night talking to you about baking and gaming.

The next two were Seungmin and I.N. They were the youngest, and the very obvious menaces to society. They both tried your brownies and tried hard to make it seem like they didn’t like them. You giggled at their silly antics before they would both ask for more.

In all honesty, they were so pretty and polite. Much like Felix, there was a cuteness that made you want to take care of them.

Hyunjin confidently walked up to you and you questioned whether or not a human was in front of you or some sort of God of beauty.

He was perfect, being able to balance being cute and sexy at the same time. He went to try your brownie and you found yourself bursting out with laughter. He looked so sad when he ate, and it made you so happy.

He laughed along with you, and you couldn’t feel more comfortable about the group so far.

That is until they came to you.

One wearing a kind smile and the other looked like intimidation personified. They were like night and day to you.

Jisung reminded you of the color orange, bright and free. He seemed so nice and excited to see you. It made you want to trust him immediately, it made you want to just engulf him in a hug.

Minho reminded you of purple, dark, and reserved. He wasn’t mean in the slightest, but you could tell he cared a lot about the people he loved and was a bit weary of you.

Aside from that, they were both so gorgeous. All the breath in your chest disappeared when you initially saw them. You knew something was gonna happen with them, something told you.

The rest of the night consisted of you getting close to the boys, and by the time they left, you had considered all of them to be your friends.

You got all of their numbers and ended up receiving a text from Jisung the next morning.

That’s how your year-long relationship started. The best year of your life.

You would start talking to Jisung first, and Minho would come just a little while later. They were already established, and at first, you didn’t want to ruin their relationship by adding yourself to it. But they insisted, and your heart was telling you to take the chance.

You won’t regret the relationship at all. It was truly the best relationship you’ve ever been in. You honestly didn’t think it could get any better.

You all rarely fought, you spent so much time together despite your busy schedules and were more than comfortable taking some time for yourselves when you needed to.

No favorites were being played, ever. You loved them equally and you know they felt the same about you.

So why did they do that? Why did they call you over to their apartment early Saturday morning?

Why did they look so happy when you walked into the house? They didn’t kiss you, but they hugged you so tight. Why did Minho make your favorite breakfast?

Why did Jisung make your favorite lunch?

Why did they both make your favorite dinner? Why did they stare at you as you ate? Why did they bring you to the living room as soon as you finished?

And why did they break your heart like that?

These were all floating around in your mind since it happened.

You didn’t plan on seeing them ever again. You made sure to tell the group what happened so you’d be warned if there was any possibility that you’d run into them.

Bless the boys, they did everything they could to support you and your ex-lovers. They showed no favoritism and made sure to comfort you just as much as they did them.

Felix told you they were hurting, and you’re sure he told them the same thing.

This wasn’t your fault though. They broke up with you and didn’t even try to contact you for the entire month that you’ve been separated.

Until this morning.

You now sit on the same couch where everything went down. Jisung and Minho look like they’ve been crying.

No one speaks for a while until you dare to talk, “You called me here. Say what you have to say”

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barcalover86 · 9 months

Note

Hai lovely! Please don’t ever apologise for taking more time to write requests!! Every piece of writing is exceptional and I can’t wait to read more!! 🫶🏻

The end of all - Pablo Gavi (headcanon)

| I kept this in my drafts and I want to thank you so much for your nice comment! This one is for you anon! Enjoy ♡

I am sitting now next to his tired body. I always found him so beautiful when he was sleeping.

In order to smile at the boy, I turn around, now my back facing him. It's 2 in the morning and my mind can't let me sleep, like the last few months. A sob escapes my mouth, hoping it wasn't too loud to wake up the one that was sleeping besides me.

'Last day of suffering, y/n' I was consequently repeating myself. 'Last night'.

All night I couldn't sleep and I was the only one to blame here. I had to do this weeks before.

Looking next to me, I see no one, as usual. Gavi went to training earlier again. I sighed, waking up from the bed to prepare some food for him when he will come back.

After hours, the footballer finally arrived home, now late than ever. I smile softly at him while he returns it.

"Hola" he said first, while giving me a short hug. "Wanna eat with me?"

"We need to have a talk, Pablo."

He looked confused, trying to remember if he had done something wrong. Which in a way, he didn't.

When he gave me those eyes, I wanted to hold him like nothing mattered. I was blaming myself for not doing that years ago.

"Are you ok?"

"Pablo, I love you." I said, but before he could reply with the same thing, I shouted him up. "No. No, Pablo."

He left the food from the table and came closer to me.

"What's wrong?"

"I would have done everything for you to keep loving me. I know you fell out of it for months."

Now, he wasn't saying anything anymore, looking down.

"I really wanted to be your special one, Pablo. I thought you were the special one for me and I'm so sorry that you couldn't find the strong to tell me that. It means that you are afraid of my reaction, and I get that. But, living this past months.. alone.. trying to make this relationship work. I can't do that alone. First I thought I could get you back to me, but then-"

"Y/n-"

"I'm not mad at you."

He looked at me with tears in his eyes. "If I could choose to love someone, it would be you. I don't know why I can't anymore-"

"And that's ok" I said, putting my hands on his cheeks, smiling softly.

I knew from the beginning that Gavi was a boy with a big heart. I couldn't be mad at someone who took care of me when I was sick. Who slept beside me when I was crying or scared. I knew he wanted to love me.

"But I respect you and want to find your true love."

"That's why I didn't tell you." he cried. "I want you to be the one"

I sighed. I wanted him to be the one too. I didn't say that though, I just went to him and hugged him. His arms immediately covered my waist.

"Thank you for everything." I lastly said.

He kissed my cheek.

"I'm sorry."

-----

After days, Gavi talked to the club, telling them to film him as little as possible, not wanting to be in the spot right now.

He would sleep a lot, thinking about what he did wrong.

He would keep the food you made for days until he was screamed at to throw it.

He would look at your photos while crying.

He would want to text you, but he knew it was a wrong decision.

Even if his love for you was over, it felt like something inside of him died. He felt like it was all his fault for letting you go.

He would eat less and perform a bit different. Not concentrating enough.

If someone asked about you, he would remain silent.

He would find a way to see you, missing you badly.

It would be a long time until he would find another girl, but he would still think about you from time to time.

This one is kinda weird gg

2nd Masterlist

#fc barca #fc barcelona #football #pablo gavi #pablo gavira #pablo martín páez gavira #gavi #gavi imagine #gavi x reader #gavi x yn #pablo gavi angst #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi imagine #boy pablo #pablo x reader #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x you #gavi headcannon

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kanzakurawrites · 3 months

Text

Random Thoughts I Had While Rewatching Descendants 1

So I'm guessing Auradon is the size of Eurasia? Cause Europe seems too small, and most of the stories take place in Europe.

Are there Isle guards? I'm guessing because how else do the posters of Beast get put on the Isle?

Beast's crown looks so fake

So is that Ben's dorm room? Or is that his castle room? Is he a day student? (Which, considering he's becoming High King would be smart) I'm curious now

How many outdoor string lights do people in Auradon throw out?

HOW DOES THE ISLE HAVE ELECTRICITY? Are there villains dedicated to keeping it running? Actually, that would be hilarious, especially if that means people don't mess with them. OR they do mess with them and there are just frequent power outages. More likely, now that I think about it.

CAN WE PLEASE TALK ABOUT MALEFICENT'S LETTER MAGNETS! Ha, what if Hades left them there and she just never threw them out? He seems more like the one to have letter magnets.

I don't care about the book timeline, the villains and core four all seem a lot more familiar with each other than just a few weeks or days or whatever. I'm saying its been months at least since the core four became a gang. If not a year.

I know its a Dcom, but I kinda wish that the villains weren't treated as comedy relief. Like, its implied that the kids aren't loved, that they are scared of their parents, but the way the parents are written... excluding the end with Maleficent, they don't seem that scary and all.

Seriously, there must be royal guards, right?

Really wish we had gotten to see the limo driver again.

Have to admit, I really like Ben's darker suit jacket. But why, why the yellow pants.

Ugh, I love Mal's D1 hair.

So... where are the magical people. "Most of us are ordinary royals." Yes, but, but, there is a lot of magic is Disney movies. Where have the magical people GONE. This is concerning.

Auradon Prep is FILLED with royal children, including the soon-to-be High King. The museum is filled with priceless magical artifacts. WHERE IS THE SECURITY. WHERE ARE THE GUARDS.

The beginning of Evil Like Me makes me want to hug Mal.

Are there NO SECURITY CAMERAS?? No other alarms??

WHY ARE THEY HAVING REMEDIAL GOODNESS OUT IN THE OPEN. That should be a PRIVATE class.

Ben, how did you not notice Carlos screaming?

How I wish they would have kept Evie's wavy/curly hair

I really wish there had been more Mal-Jay moments

They were in a public area. How did no one notice what was going on with Ben? DOUG WAS RIGHT BEHIND THEM

You know, none of Ben's classmates seem surprised by his love declaration. Or surprised by the "break up" with Audrey. Hmmm.

You cannot convince me that Ben didn't purposefully tell his parents about Mal right then JUST so he could have a picture of their reaction.

Baby Bal is so cute DX

Honestly, the Family Day fiasco was Audrey and Chad's fault KING BEAST

"No son, its yours." EXCUSE ME SIR

I wonder how much magical strength one must have in order to wield Fairy Godmother's wand. And I feel bad that Jane couldn't.

"I want to go to school. And be with Ben. Because Ben makes me really happy." Don't mind me just crying.

This whole scene makes me cry DX

"Gaston should be jealous." Ew. No. Stop. Creepy.

So whatever happened with the Jay/Audrey thing? I CANNOT be the only one who remembers the shipping days for them.

Other thoughts:

Nostalgia hits hard every time

I miss the D1 clothes! D2 and D3 felt more "costumey" if that makes sense. D1 feels more like... teenagers. And, at least for the Isle outfits, more thrown together. Not as polished, in a way.

I have to admit, kinda wish there was more Aladdin related stuff in the movie. You have Audrey and Mal, Evie and Doug, and Carlos and Dude, but no Aladdin-related characters for Jay? Sure, Aziz is mentioned in the books, and Jordan is in Wicked World, but still. Oh well.

#descendants #disney descendants #I was hoping this would help me for the next Fate's Gift chapter #kinda did

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leejenowrld · 4 months

Note

a question to all the mfal characters who aren’t yn and jeno

have you ever witnessed them doing something cute and romantic and thought “damn they’re kinda adorable” ??

wait this question is so cute 🥹🥹

warning - BIG SMUT, threesome implication

donghyuck - once i walked into them and i was gonna leave but i can’t lie, i secretly stood the side and just watched, shit was so hot. i was so turned on

yn - [hits donghyuck] what the fuck?

donghyuck - it was so hot. you can’t blame me. it was like i was watching some irl sexy promo. jeno kept slamming his cock in and out of her, like every minute. i got hard cos i just saw the wetness leaving yn’s pussy and slicking up every time jeno pulled out, only for him to slam in again, and all of these juices and milky strings would attach to his juicy juicy cock and then he’d fuck it all into yn again. the sounds of yn’s wet pussy… jesus. he’d do it through their orgasms as well. i left after 5 minutes but i heard it for hours, these dirty cute animals were doing this all night long. i remember thinking “shit, they’re cute, i respect them.” yn kept screaming daddy and jeno kept slapping her ass and boobs, it was genuinely the best sight i’ve ever seen. i dream of it. yn kept begging jeno to cum in her and me and jeno were both a bit confused cus ??? what else has he been doing the entire night

yn - [shocked, jeno holding her back as she’s ready to throw hands and kill donghyuck] you just stood there and watched us?? fucking perv

jeno - [unfazed and turned on] i remember that hyuck, i fucked her so dumb she kept asking me to cum in her although that was what i had been doing for hours. once my girls hit her 4th orgasm of the session, she starts chatting shit

donghyuck - shits so hot

jeno - next time we do that you can join [winks at donghyuck and blows him a kiss, hisses when yn flicks her finger against his forehead with force.]

donghyuck - [facing yn, licking his lips and palming his bulge] u know me and jeno have kissed before, right?

yn - don’t pull this shit with me now, jeno’s kissed half the people on campus, i know. don’t fucking remind me.

jeno - baby, it’s more like 3/4 of campus

yn - that’s it, no sex for three weeks.

jeno - [smirks playfully] i’ll just fuck donghyuck

yn - [copies jeno’s smirk] i’ll just kill you

jaemin - yeah, i won’t ever tell them but they’re pretty cute and melt my heart

jeno - please, you tell me that all the time

jaemin - anyways, when yn and jeno graduated they both got a lot of opportunities to do internships abroad which means they have to be apart for a few weeks. they’re both so smart and care about their future so ofc they won’t pass up on the opportunities. it’s quite sad but equally heart warming when i see them say their goodbyes. they’ll hug each other at the airport for so long and it’s just sweet seeing jeno comfort her because yn gets really emotional but somehow jeno can help control it? i think it’s a superpower, i’ll hear or see yn crying her eyes out and then jeno comes up to her and hugs her and holds her and they share a few kisses, jeno whispers some sweet shit to her, he just is an overall comfort to her and it only takes a few mins for her to go back to normal.

heejin - once jeno brought me and yn tickets to some play we had been geeking out about. at first jeno wasn’t gonna come because he probably just wanted to give me and yn friendship time but yn didn’t really read the room and begged him to come 😭😭 i mean tbf i told him to come to because he’s also a fan of this play. he didn’t listen to me but yn gave him puppy dog eyes and smiled and worked her magic so he just had to say yes lmao. i’m used to third wheeling them lmao but they were pretty cute that night, they didn’t make me feel sick. it’s the little things they do, the eye contact, yn truly looks up at him and she’s the physical description of this emoji ‘🥹’ you can literally see their pupils dilate when they look at each other. you can feel the love in the atmosphere. it makes me believe that love actually is all around.

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fortheloveofwonderland · 11 months

Note

Another one? Yes, another one!!!!

I wish that we could save today, but I know we can’t stay the same. And I keep pushing you away, don’t wait for me - Home is Such a Lonely Place by Blink 182

With Spencer! Thanks and congrats again!!!!

Hello again! This one was cute, set post s15.

Home is Such a Lonely Place

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Summary - you and Spencer’s whirlwind romance comes to an abrupt end when you both get job offers in different countries. But home is just too lonely for him to bear without you.

CW - angst, break ups, tears, sad goodbyes, meet cutes.

WC - 2.2k

As far as days went, today was just about perfect in Spencer Reid’s world. Before long it would become some distant memory, forgotten seconds by your side.

It would become just another day in the story book of his life but he tried to catalogue every single inconsequential touch, every sidelong glance. He had to preserve these moments because after tomorrow there would be no more moments to have.

Spencer had loved you since the moment he laid eyes on you eight months ago in line for coffee at his favourite cafe. You’d both reached for the same sugar packet but when you’d smiled at him, the simple gesture was sweet enough and he’d allowed you to take it.

What had followed had been a whirlwind romance.

Spencer had left the BAU a few months prior to meeting you to teach full time, which gave him evenings and weekends free to spend with you. And the two of you did spend every possible second together. More seconds he hoped wouldn’t become forgotten.

You’d fallen head over heels for each other. You never officially moved in with him, you still had your own apartment, but you honestly couldn’t remember the last time you’d been back there.

It had been the most incredible tornado of emotions, the likes of which neither of you had ever experienced before. He’d told you early on he had every intention of marrying you one day, and you couldn’t think of anything you wanted to do more in the world.

But fate had other ideas.

In the space of just one week, two things happened that altered the trajectory of your relationship. Firstly you got offered a job of a lifetime, one in which you’d worked your whole life towards.

You’d screamed and jumped up and down, throwing yourself giddily into Spencer’s arms the second you hung up the phone but the euphoria was tragically short lived.

Your dream job, the one you’d worked so hard for, was in London.

Spencer hadn’t skipped a beat before telling you he’d come with you. He loved you and wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, he wasn’t letting you go.

You’d started to cry when he cupped your face and smiled at you as he whispered, “let’s move to London, my love.”

For three days the two of you had excitedly started to plan your future across the pond, where you’d live, where Spencer would work. Where your future hypothetical children could go to school.

But then on the third day, Spencer received a call.

He’d been tapped by the bureau for a special assignment, for which he wasn’t at liberty to tell you much about. His initial reaction had been to decline, nothing was more important to him than your life in London.

But you’d seen the way he winced ever so slightly every time he talked about turning it down. You saw the way his previous elation over your move dampened day by day.

You realised for the first time just how much Spencer missed the FBI. So as much as it killed you to think of your life without him in it, you convinced him to stay.

You both had your own dreams and sadly, they didn’t overlap.

You had a few months until your move and so even if it hurt more in the long run, you and Spencer spent every moment together you could, creating the last few memories you’d ever have together.

He held you tighter in that time, but never enough to hold you back.

Today was your last day together. Tomorrow you would board a flight to London and who knows when you’d be back, if you ever were.

Spencer created the perfect last day, spent hours planning all the places he wanted to take you but you never ended up even leaving his apartment.

You spent the majority of the day in each other's arms, commiting to your minds exactly how the other felt, how they smelt. It was all so bittersweet but you wouldn’t change a second of it.

He loved the lightning, the crashes of electricity he felt when you were close by. But the rain that was rolling in, the rain that followed when you left; he hated that.

Tomorrow was frightening. But not today.

He wanted to slow down time, enjoy every minute of this. But never enough that it would slow you down.

When he suddenly got up, letting go of his grip on you and pacing his living room, you watched him curiously. You took in his frame, every dip and curve of him even though it was shielded by his wrinkled shirt and slacks.

You etched in your heart the way his curls fell down his neck, around his face. You captured his slightly furrowed brow, sharp jawline and cracked lips, filed it all away in the Spencer Reid photo album that lived deep in your soul.

He stopped pacing and looked at you, the weight of it all clear on his features.

“I think that…” he trailed off with a shaky sigh. “I think that maybe you should go.”

You frowned at him, pushing yourself up to your feet.

“I thought the plan was for me to stay and you were going to take me to the airport in the morning?”

“Yeah well, plans change, don’t they?” He snapped much harsher than he’d meant to.

You pouted at his tone, wrapping your arms around your waist and shying away from him.

“Wow,” you choked. “Ok then.”

You turned your back on him towards the bedroom where your bags were and started towards it.

Spencer shook his head at his own stupidity and quickly hurried after you.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” His long, nimble fingers encased your wrist and he gently tugged you back to him. “I just…I wish that we could save today. But I know we can’t stay the same. And pushing you away…it seemed like it would hurt less.”

His eyes were misted over with tears and he kept his hold on you, terrified to let you go.

“Maybe I should go.” You shrugged.

“No, please don’t.” He shook his head frantically.

“I think it’s best. It’s never going to hurt any less Spencer but prolonging the pain is making it worse.” A tear escaped your eye as you saw the understanding wash over him.

He wanted to fight it. He wanted to spend every single second you had left together but he knew you were right. He let go of you and raised his arms up to aggressively rub his eyes.

“I knew this would be hard but I didn’t realise just how much it would hurt.” He swallowed. “I feel like someone’s carved out my heart.”

You whimpered a little at his words, taking a step closer to him and cupping his cheeks in your hands. You brushed your fingers over the contours of his face, hoping the feeling of him would help you remember.

“Me too, Spence.” You agreed. “I need you to promise me something.”

“Anything.” He nodded.

“Promise me you won’t wait for me.”

His own tears broke free and suddenly started cascading from his eyes and you wiped them away with your thumbs.

“I don’t know if I can promise you that.” He whined.

“You have to.” You sniffed. “Don’t wait for me, Spence.”

Before he could argue with you, you pressed your lips gently against his, tasting his tears as you kissed him. It was fleeting, it had to be. You’d come to learn all the best things were.

You let go of his face and stepped backwards and he didn’t try to stop you when you went to walk to the bedroom.

He also didn’t try to stop you when you headed back out with your bags. As you passed him, you placed a lingering kiss on his cheek before continuing to the front door.

And again he didn’t stop you when you opened it.

As you stepped into the corridor you turned back to him and smiled at him through your tears.

“I’ll always love you, Spencer Reid.”

“I’ll always love you too.” He replied, his voice cracking with each word.

He watched you leave, his heart feeling as though it was physically shattering inside his chest even though he knew that wasn’t possible.

Looking around his apartment he suddenly hated this place. The place he’d called home for so many years no longer felt like his safe haven.

It felt like the moon was spinning off into outer space without you. The universe an empty place without you. This room was such a lonely place now you’d gone.

And he wasn’t sure he’d ever bounce back from a loss so great.

***

If you didn’t take into account your broken heart, London was everything you’d dreamed of and more.

Work kept you busy enough that during the days you were able to cast all thoughts of your lost love from your mind. But it was at night that all of those memories came flooding back to the surface.

You tried to keep focused on your job, on figuring out a new routine and creating a new normal for yourself; one that didn’t include Spencer Reid.

You engrossed yourself in the little, trivial things. The fastest route to your office, the nicest parks to read in on the weekend and most importantly, where you could find the best coffee on your morning commute.

You explored a new coffee shop every single day but so far nothing compared to that little cafe in DC where you’d reached for a sugar packet one morning and your whole world had changed. Perhaps you never would find one that lived up to those expectations.

Nearly three weeks after your relocation you left early one morning to check out a cafe a little out of your normal route. According to Google it was one of the most highly rated coffee shops in the area.

You allowed yourself to feel something akin to excitement as you pushed open the door of the bustling little artisan shop. If you could find the perfect cafe for your morning pick me up, maybe it would go some way to help repair your broken heart.

You ordered your usual vanilla latte and as soon it was handed to you made your way over to the stand in the corner for some sugar.

And as you reached for the little packet you were awash with deja vu as your fingers brushed against those of another.

When you looked up and your eyes met his deep hazel orbs, your whole world stopped turning on its axis.

He was offering you the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen, and in that moment you felt your heart start to piece itself back together.

“I read online that this was one of the best coffee shops in all of London.” He spoke, a hint of whimsy in his tone. “But, uh, I have also tried another five highly rated coffee places in as many days and they didn’t stack up. This one though…this one has potential.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, eyes clouding over with tears, feeling as though you must be hallucinating because surely this wasn’t real.

“You’ve been here for five days?” Your voice trembled.

“A week actually.” Spencer grinned at you, fingers still brushing against your own.

“Why didn’t you just call?”

“This is far more romantic, don’t you think?” His eyes danced playfully and he dared to slip his hand in yours.

“I…I don’t understand what’s happening.” You felt like all the air had left your lungs. Everything else going on around you faded away.

“I called the bureau, the day you left actually. I turned down the special assignment, told them I left the FBI for a reason and I wasn’t prepared to come back. Then I spoke to the university and some strings were pulled but they managed to secure me a job. In London. I would have been here sooner but between zoom interviews and selling my apartment…but I’m here now.” He squeezed your hand, trying to prove to you he was actually here.

“You… you’re here? For real?” A tear rolled from your eye and Spencer was quick to cup your face and wipe it away.

“I’m here for real. And for good. Or at least as long as you're here.”

“I…I don’t even know what to say.” A few more tears fell but Spencer brushed away every one.

“Say you’ve got room in your apartment for a guy who gave up everything to be with you? And his books, the books need a home too.”

“You’re insane.” You chuckled through your tears and Spencer laughed too.

“Maybe so,” he edged closer to you until you could feel his breath fan across your face. “But I couldn’t make it a few hours in my apartment with you gone. Home is such a lonely place without you, so let’s make a new one here?”

You didn’t have the words to express quite what all of this meant to you and you knew you didn’t need them. Instead of speaking, you closed the gap between you and pressed your lips to his.

Spencer immediately held you tightly, kissing you back with yearning and knowing for a fact that he would never spend another day away from you as long he lived.

Home was such a lonely place without you, but he didn’t plan on finding that out again.

#milestone celebration #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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jake-g-lockley · 1 year

Note

I feel like Santiago Garcia barely gets any fluff content. Prompt 24. “oh, god, i’m sorry about your shirt.” *shirt is drenched in tears* “it’s okay. i was planning on throwing it out anyway.” Would be so pleasant with him, please with a cherry on top!

Here With You (Santiago Garcia x reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Want to be tagged?

A/N: You’re so right for this, yes we need more Santi fluff <3 Thanks for the ask, sweet nonnie!

Word count: 714 words

Warnings: A little bit of parental angst (you know the usual)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You storm into your shared apartment, throwing the door open and letting it hit the wall with a bang. You were fuming, angry at the way the lunch with your mother went. You knew it was going to be like this, full of arguments, disagreements and just plain insulting. You have brought yourself up over the past few years, indirectly cutting yourself off from your parents and never relying on them ever since you entered university.

You decided to give it a chance a few weeks ago, when your mother finally contacted you, asking to see you. You craved simple love, the love that your parents would most definitely provide you if they chose to try. You had made sure that the lunch would go perfectly, booking the best restaurants and making sure that her dietary needs were satisfied, but most importantly, you made sure you were on your best behaviour.

But no matter how hard you tried, your mother always got on your nerves, lighting every single one of them on fire and you began to argue with her. You got up, paid the bill and left, your head hot with all of the thoughts you had meant to say to your mother. Now, you were home and you wanted to scream and kick everything that came across you. Before you tried to do anything, a blurry figure ran out of the kitchen, clutching a wooden spoon in one hand and a pot in the other, wearing your eggplant designed apron.

“What the hell?! Is everything okay?” Santiago Garcia lowered his makeshift weapons and stared at you incredulously.

“Shit, I’m so sorry Santi, didn’t mean to burst in like that.” you said, your anger quickly turning into guilt.

Ex military Santiago Garcia didn’t like loud noises and you felt like an idiot, not remembering your roommate and his very real PTSD.

“You didn’t answer my question, are you okay?” he asked again, inching closer to you, his voice softer this time.

In that moment, everything came crashing down on you and you ran into Santi’s arms. You hugged him tightly and started to sob, every cell in your body breaking down from the strain that is your parents. You felt Santi pull the both of you down with his body frame, setting the cooking utensils aside and pulling you into his lap properly, letting you sob into his chest as you mumbled garbage that you thought was coherent.

“It's okay, dulce niña, let it out, you’re okay, you’re here now and I’m here with you.” Santiago whispered through your sobs as you shook against his hard body.

He caressed your hair and rocked you, lulling you into a soothed state, leaving you only with hiccups after he had dried your tears with the edge of the eggplant apron he was wearing. You emerged from his chest a few minutes later, once you had fully calmed down, rubbing your nose with your sweater sleeve. You came face to face with Santiago’s worried eyes and you gave him a small smile, indicating that you were feeling a lot better.

You looked down and your eyes caught the huge wet patch on Santi’s shirt that had formed from your crying session.

“Oh, god, Santi, your shirt! I’m so sorry.” you said, trying to rub at the wet patch with your sleeves but to no avail.

Santiago caught your arms with a chuckle.

“That’s alright, dulce niña, I was planning to throw this shirt out anyway.” he said with a grin.

You nodded before realising that he was messing with you.

“You dick!” you punch him affectionately before throwing your arms around his neck again.

“Thanks, Santi.” you mumble into his shoulder.

“You do know that if you need to talk, I’m always here right?” he whispers back, making your heart swell with happiness.

“I know, and I love you for that.” you say, bringing your face slightly forward and kissing his cheek.

“I know you’re judging my cooking, I made spaghetti and you’re not having any.” He said, before deploying a tickle attack, making you squeal and scream, desperate to get away from his claws.

Reblogs are appreciated ~~~~

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pickledpascal · 4 months

Text

Long Story Short, It Was a Bad Time

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Castiel

Warnings: transphobia, homophobia, horrible parent john winchester, homophobic language, implied past prostitution, based on 14x13, angst with a happy-ish ending

A/N: in this, dean is trans and visually looks similar to another of jensen's characters, beau arlen.

Word Count: 4.8k

Jensen Ackles Masterlist

Dean Winchester had known he was a boy since he could talk. Hell, before he could talk.

He wasn't aware he wasn't a boy until after his mother died and every single teacher in every single town they went to called him a girl and separated him into the girls' lines instead of the boys. It got increasingly mind-numbing as he entered his pre-teen years. His first period came around and his dad wasn't sure what to do. Pads were one of the most expensive supplies he had to buy and he never failed to make Dean feel bad about it at every turn.

“Suck it up, Deanna.”

“Don't go tellin’ anyone I don't do anything for you, Deanna.”

“You better clean the garbage out when I get home, Deanna. I don't wanna see that.”

The name itched him like a bad rash. Made him want to scream. But all he could do was cry. After John was gone and Sammy was asleep.

His boobs were growing in and everything about his body felt wrong. He was glad he was naturally tall and that he was able to gain more muscle the more John let him go on hunts but it wasn't the same. His shoulders weren't as broad as the other guys in his class, his hips jutted out too much for his liking, and he hated his long hair.

Dean cut it on his sixteenth birthday and told his father it was under the guise of wanting to be safe. Unpullable hair meant one less thing he had to worry about when it came to monsters. John looked at him suspiciously. He must have known. But he didn't blow up like Dean expected him to. That made the wrenching feeling in his gut twist more. There had to be a catch.

He came out two weeks after that.

“Thank God.” Dean blinked at the reaction. “I thought I was gonna have a dyke of a daughter. Now, I have another son. You going by another name?”

Dean wanted to throw up. Somehow, that made everything worse. His father would rather have a son than a lesbian daughter? He didn't want to think about the fact that he still liked boys just not as much as girls.

He had a few mishaps, he'd look at a few guys as he passed them with John at his side. Dean didn't think too much of it since nothing came of it. Why would John punish him for something as simple as a glance?

Then his seventeenth birthday came.

Dean's first hunt by himself, specifically curated by his father. He watched the fire in the hole he dug earlier with his hands pushed into the pockets of his jacket. The two bodies were as intertwined as they could be for rotting skeletons.

The heat was nice. But bittersweet. He was close enough that it could burn him. Dean would've loved to burn to a crisp as well but he had a brother to protect.

Dean swallowed thickly and gathered up his supplies.

Message heard loud and clear, Dad.

Dean's top surgery was one of the things he remembered the most about his more medical transition. He couldn't get testosterone as much as he wanted to with forged signatures and documents but Bobby offered something else.

So Dean was laid down on a steel examination table asleep on some anesthetic Bobby was able to get off the black market. Bobby didn't have much experience being a surgeon so it wasn't the best but it was as sterile and safe as it could be. But Dean couldn't have been happier. His chest was flat. That's what he cared about. Even if he had to be at Bobby's for weeks. He was just glad Sam was there too instead of having to leave him alone with John.

Time passed. Dean leaned hard into his masculinity after John died. A little too hard.

“You are way out of my brother’s league.”

“Guess how many of these cheerleaders are legal.”

“She's a bitch.”

“Fucking bitch!”

“Bitch!”

Part of it was his frustration with nearly being killed every day of his life, not even by monsters, the other part was the things John beat into him at a young age. If Dean wanted to be a man, he had to be one at John's discretion. He had to like girls but not enough to actually settle down with one. He had to look out for Sam even if that meant he would die.

So he did.

Made a deal. Went to hell.

Except he didn't expect to come back.

That gas station would forever stay in his mind. He walked for hours to find it. His whole body felt a little different. Jumbled around but he could tell his body was still his. He immediately went for the water bottles and broke the seal, downing it in one go.

Dean caught a glimpse of a mirror out of the corner of his eye. He walked up to it and licked at his bottom lip, staring at himself. He noticed his sharper jaw decorated with stubble, his hair seemed to be less chopped, his shoulders more broad, and… he had bowlegs? He looked down and then back up.

Intrigued, he lifted his shirt. His lips dropped open. The scars under his pecs were still there but they were different, no longer botched and scary-looking, but smooth. And his chest. It wasn't completely flat like it was before. His pecs looked more natural, protruding a bit. Like a “real” man. Dean let his shirt drop as he breathed. The handprint on his arm was there too and, for a moment, he knew something cosmic had to be the reason for this, but something inside him felt so happy. Giddy.

He snuck a peak under his jeans. And, yeah, no he still didn't have a dick but he didn't particularly care about that anyway. One of the only things about his body that didn't matter as much. Well, at least now he felt comfortable in himself even if it came at a price.

Over and over again. He was reminded of what he “really” was.

“Daddy's blunt little instrument.”

“Daddy's little girl.”

Hell, half of it came from himself. As a joke. Not one he particularly wanted to be true.

“I've been re-hymenated.”

“Ever since I was a little girl.”

“You got anything that’s real?” “My boobs.”

As Dean grew older, he started to shed those kinds of ideals. Not only did it get too heavy to bear but he started not to care anymore. John was dead. Mary was dead. Who did he have to impress? So he didn't mind talking about the fact he didn't have a dick and indulging himself on some things that may be seen as feminine. Like a few satin panties tucked into the bottom of his drawer or the few times he painted his nails—it never lasted long when he went on a hunt.

Although Dean still thought of his body as a tool, something he could use against their adversaries, it was a little easier to live in when he was in control of what he could do to it. When it was the kind of body he always wanted. So he got more tattoos to cover his body—they were mostly covered by his layers of denim and flannel except for one that creeped onto the side of his neck—his nipples got pierced and he nearly forgot he actually had nerve endings there when it happened, he grew out his hair a bit—not nearly as long as Sam’s but enough that he could style it better—he started wearing earrings and rings again. Not many and usually not during hunts because he had a feeling any monster, or human for that matter, would take advantage of it and tear his ear in half.

Sam and Castiel didn't mention it. Ever. And Dean wasn't sure if he should be grateful for it or not.

“Why did you…” Dean breathed, glancing up at Castiel. He didn't want to finish the rest of his question. It was right after Mary came back and she had locked herself in some random room in the bunker to process something.

Dean was no longer her beautiful, young four-year-old daughter Deanna. He was a grown man with shorter hair, a sharp jaw, and stubble. He knew it would be a shock for anyone, especially someone dead for so long but he didn't expect it to reopen a wound he thought had healed years ago. People had only ever thought of Dean as Dean. A man.

Even the very few women he got with after transitioning still thought of him as a man afterward.

Castiel’s eyes softened at Dean. He could sense the turmoil inside his head. “I was given liberty to rebuild you in the way I thought would prepare you for Micheal,” He admitted softly. He could see Dean was holding in a breath. “I decided to give you the body you wanted. The one you deserved. I had never seen a soul shine as bright as yours as you looked at my handiwork in that gas station. I knew then, I made the right decision.”

Dean's cheeks flared with blush, averting his gaze to look at anywhere but Castiel. He never quite thought about him being there, watching him admire himself. He knew that was Cas, of course, he did, but to Dean, it wasn't Cas just yet. The Cas he knew was so different from that grinding, high-pitched noise he remembered hearing.

The Cas he knew was safe. His best friend. The closest thing to family he had beside Sam. He was able to be open with Cas in a different way than Sam.

More and more shit came and went. More and more apocalypses. But Castiel was a constant. Even if he died a few times. Even if he left a few times. He usually came back. Dean wanted him to stay. For good. But even if he was more open with being a transgender guy and liking girls and guys, he still wasn't that open about his feelings. His more complicated feelings.

“Sam? Deanna?”

That fucking pearl.

The sight of his father. That's not what Dean wanted. That wasn't his deepest desire. Hell, he didn't even know what his deepest desire was. And that name. He hadn't heard that name in years. Mary caught on quickly that Dean was Dean and that was it. But, of course, his father wouldn't. Even if he liked having Dean as a son more than a daughter.

That fucking pearl was supposed to get Micheal the fuck out of his head and kill him for good measure. Instead, it brought him the one thing Dean hated more than anything in his life.

On autopilot, Dean locked himself in his room. He nearly fell to his knees but he braced himself on the wall and had half a mind to punch a hole in it. He winced as that banging in his mind got louder. Micheal screamed. Dean slid down the wall and pushed his hands into his hair. His breathing was harbored and he felt suffocated as if something was weighing down his chest.i

Why did that pearl do that? Dean was happy without him. As happy as he could be with an archangel in his head and tonnes of baggage.

A soft knock brought Dean back to reality. Cas. He pushed himself off the ground and opened the door.

“Sam told me about your father,” His tone was deathly serious. Dean hadn't heard Castiel sound like that in a while. He was grateful for it. “Would you like me to smite him?”

Dean swallowed. The offer was tempting. “Jesus, Cas, no. I—” Want him gone. Dead. Obliterated. Erased from his memories. Back in Hell. Gone from Heaven. Tortured to be forgotten. “I need you. Here. With me.” His shoulders slumped after the admission.

“Of course, Dean. Whatever you need.” Castiel's voice softened as his eyes did as well. It was so truthful, said with such fondness Dean nearly cried.

Dean sat at the end of his bed and motioned for Castiel to do the same. The angel obliged. He knew there was this thing between them. Obvious enough Sam started to call him out on it, never in front of Cas to save him from the embarrassment, but it was always on his mind when they were alone together. He wasn't sure what to do with it. All his feelings. Everything was so complex. Yet simple. It was a strange dichotomy. One he wasn't sure he wanted to admit out loud.

But the fact that Castiel had only ever seen Dean as a man helped. Drove it into his thick skull what this thing was. Love. Castiel spoke to him so reverently. Spoke his name like a prayer. One Dean desperately wanted to hear over and over again.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Of course, Dean.”

“Good things do happen, Dean.”

“This is a good thing, Dean.”

“He called me Deanna,” Dean admitted softly, eyes focused on his boots. He was naturally tall, even before resurrected by Cas, but the boots gave him an extra inch or so to not look as small next to Sam. He could feel how tense Castiel was after his words. “It's… funny,” He let out a dry laugh, “For years, I've been fine. Been good in that area. But that's just—” Dean took a sharp breath. “People see me as a guy now. At least, they do until they get in my pants. But Dad—John, I fucking look like this,” He gestured to himself, “And he calls me Deanna? Fuck me.” He scoffed.

For a second, he had a feeling John only humored him when he was younger. Called him Dean, got him a binder before his surgery, just because it was easier. If Dean became a man then he wouldn't look as much like Mary anymore and then maybe he wouldn't see her in his eyes or his face.

But John still did. This was proof of that.

“Your father, for lack of a better term, is a bitch.” Castiel said shamelessly. “You are so much more than a man born in the wrong body. It's a shame your father is too blind to see that.”

Dean's breath caught in his throat. And then he laughed. Hard. Hard enough his lungs started hurting and he had to gasp for air. Hard enough that tears started to form at the edges of his eyes and a few even rolled down his cheeks. He didn't register his hand on Castiel's thigh until he set his hand on top of it.

Dean pulled it away. Or tried. Castiel held it in place. “Your soul…” He murmured. “It shines so bright when you laugh.”

His voice. So soft and reassuring. Dean screwed his eyes shut. He couldn't help the fluttering in his chest. For the first time in a while, Micheal was silent. It was just him and Cas in the middle of his bed. Safe. Outside his room might be different.

Dean's eyes lifted to meet Castiel's. They were a brilliant shade of blue he couldn't quite place. Nothing matched it. Sure, he could compare them to the ocean or perhaps the sky but even those didn't come close. Without thinking too hard, Dean let himself go.

His free hand pulled Castiel close as he brought their lips together. The surprised noise the angel made was cute and Dean could feel him melting into the kiss. Castiel's lips were chapped, Dean chalked it up to him not caring for his vessel much, but everything felt so right. Their fingers intertwined while Cas threaded his free hand through Dean's hair.

A cough. And suddenly Dean and Cas jumped away from each other. It was Sam. Dean took a breath, thankful that it was Sam and not John. Sam smirked as his eyes flickered between the two men but it was quickly wiped off his face. “Mom and Dad… they want to have dinner together.” He explained, focusing on Dean.

There was still a lot Dean didn't tell Mary about John. About their life before the Men of Letters bunker. What Dean did to survive, to make sure Sam could live as comfortably as possible, to put food on the table and get a bed to sleep on, even while John was still alive. Bathrooms in gas stations on his knees, in the back of bars, dingy motel rooms.

John never asked where the money came from, he took it anyway.

If Mary knew, Dean knew she would look at John in a different light. A part of him didn't want to tarnish that for her. Even though it took some adjusting, she had accepted Dean wholeheartedly. Hell, she only messed up on his pronouns a few times, that was a lot better than when Sam first found out.

“Dean, do you want…?” Sam didn't finish his sentence. He didn't know the full extent of what John did to him but he knew Dean intentionally took the brunt of the abuse for Sam. And he could never take that back. “He's asking about you. Saying you—you finally look like a man. Wondered what kind of work you had done. Thinks you're…” Sam wasn't trying to guilt trip Dean, quite the opposite. “Thinks you get a lot of girls. Asked if you had a wife or something. Asked if you,” He coughed, “Got a dick yet.”

Dean’s fist clenched as his face contorted into disgust. Out of the corner of his eye, he could feel Castiel getting frustrated as well.

Screwing his eyes shut, Michael crept up in his mind again. The screams. The banging. It came back tenfold. “What does he even want? For us to be fucking normal?” Dean huffed.

“Yeah,” Sam said simply. “Dad… he's from 2003. That's what he does best. Act normal when nothing is.” He smiled sadly.

Dean stood up from the bed and rolled up the sleeves to his flannel shirt. He wouldn't—couldn’t—let his father undo everything he had ever built in the last fourteen years of his life. The small little family he made. Sam, him, Mary, Cas, Jack, and Claire. That was his family. Not John.

Castiel looked at Dean, concerned. “Are you sure, Dean?” He could see that little boy inside him, still scared of what his father could do to him. But he could also see the grown man he came to be, unafraid of his father because he could likely overpower him now.

Before he could think about it too hard, Dean nodded. “C'mon, sunshine. I'm not letting him fuck with my head again.” His leg bounced slightly. Not from nerves.

Dean, Sam, and Cas made their way into the war room where John and Mary sat at the map table. John’s head lifted to look at Dean. Fully look at him. Take in his new appearance. When he appeared, Dean didn't stay long enough for John to get a good look at what he had become. The last time he'd seen Dean, he was twenty-five, wore too big clothes, had a skinner frame, and his hair was short and was never styled. This Dean… was not that.

He grew into his height, broad shoulders, visible muscles under his flannel—John would have never guessed Dean was born a girl. That he was his daughter.

“Deanna.” John breathed.

“Dean.” The man corrected. “You're… here.” He wished he wasn't.

John’s eyes narrowed momentarily. Normally, he would've slapped him for something like that but he wasn't stupid. This Dean had a few pounds on him. “I am. Sam and your mom caught me up on everything that went down,” His eyes shifted to land on Castiel. “That the angel that pulled you out of Hell?”

“Hello, John.” Castiel greeted, void of any emotion. Dean glanced at him. He knew the angel inside and out and he knew Castiel was getting increasingly annoyed simply being in John's presence.

Mary sensed the tension between them and coughed. “I was thinking we could have Winchester Surprise?” She suggested softly—ever the peacemaker.

Dean cocked an eyebrow at his mother. He knew Mary was desperate to have John, they didn't have much time together and she was still very much in love, but no one else wanted him there. Dean didn't and neither did Sam and Castiel was so close to stomping John into a curb.

“I'm not sure that's a good idea, Mom.” Dean finally said. As much as he wanted to protect her from the real John, the one who was hiding behind a loving façade, he had to break the news to her. There must always come a time when the veil gets taken away from someone’s eyes, showing them the truth.

John tilted his head and Dean couldn't help but feel it was condescending. “Why not? We're all family here. We can be normal for a night,” He stared at Dean a little too hard. “As normal as we can be.”

“We were never normal,” Dean ground out. It took all his self-control not to just yell at him. Mary looked at Dean worriedly. She'd seen Dean mad, specifically at her, but nothing like this. His shoulders were tense and his nose was drawn into a snarl.

“You–You don't get it. Never will. You suck for a father. I had to raise Sam myself. You'd fuck off to who knows where drunk half the time and make me, a four-year-old watch over a fucking baby. And you liked me better as a son than a girl who liked girls? What the fuck?” Yeah. Fuck that self-control. Dean’s jaw set in place. “Guess fucking what dad? I like girls and boys. And I could care fucking less what you think of—”

Dean's jaw throbbed. Surprise shivered down his spine. John flexed his hand as he stared down at Dean as he cupped his face.

“John!” Mary yelled.

Castiel nearly jumped John before Dean did. With a single right hook, John was out cold on the floor. He flapped his hand afterward, feeling the soreness immediately. It had been a while since Dean had to punch someone, usually, he had a gun or knife when fighting, he was a little surprised at how effective it was.

“Dean!” Mary huffed as she went to John's side.

Dean bit the inside of his cheek. He decided he might as well come out with it. “Fuck him, Mom. He was never my father. He never tried to be. I was the only person who watched over Sam. A tool in his life while he was dead-set on revenge. We could have been normal. If he never went on a rampage.” He looked down at the pitiful heap that was his father with disgust. He glanced at Castiel over his shoulder.

Mary shook her head, trying to reason with Dean. “We're a family. We don't give up on family.” She whispered.

“Sometimes you do,” Dean huffed softly. As much as he and Sam fought, as many times as they took turns dying, it never got so bad that Dean thought he hated him. At least, not for more than a day or so. “I'm good with who I am. Dad isn't. I don't want him in my life. I don't think I ever had but… this is my life now. I get to live it. Meaning I get to choose who's in it,” He swallowed thickly, knowing what he was about to admit. “In ten years time, it's not with him. Never was.”

“Dean, you don't mean that.” Mary sighed. Pleading. She wanted to keep John, make up for lost time.

Sam took a step forward. “Mom, you don't get it either. The shit John put Dean through—put both of us through—no kid should have to go through that.”

Mary huffed, “Then tell me. You can't just expect me to know.”

Castiel stared at her. “Your sons don't have to say anything they are uncomfortable admitting.” He said it as if he was stating the weather forecast.

Dean pursed his lips. Hurt. He knew Mary wouldn't understand but he didn't quite expect this. He turned on his heels and made his way back into his room.

Eventually, everything was as it was. John was sent back after Sam destroyed the pearl and Dean could breathe a little more comfortably afterward. Mary shut herself off from them but he had a feeling that would get resolved as much as the gut-wrenching feeling in his stomach told him it wouldn't. He never wanted to see or think about John ever again. Hadn't wanted to for years after the shit he's gone through.

Dean heard a knock on his door after he got ready for bed. Hell, he was halfway underneath the covers when it happened. He grumbled under his breath, not thinking to put on a shirt or a pair of pants as he opened the door.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said softly. As soft as each time before. Dean was suddenly very aware of how bare he was. “Do not be alarmed, it's nothing I haven't seen before.” The angel stepped inside his room, closing the door behind him.

Castiel's words did nothing to ease Dean's beating heart. It felt like a hammer against his chest, wanting to tear itself out of him.

Castiel’s eyes never wavered from his face, studying it as if it were a work of art. He lifted a hand to Dean's cheek. Dean felt as if the air was punched out of him. “I want to know if you're okay, Dean.” Those blue eyes—they never looked at him in pity, never. They looked at him with wonder and understanding.

Dean didn't register the single tear that rolled down his cheek until Castiel's thumb wiped it away. “Not really, Cas.” He breathed. Admitting it didn't feel as bad as he thought it would.

“Why—” Castiel took a breath, saddened by how destroyed Dean's eyes looked. “Why do you think the pearl… gave you John?” He asked softly as he and Dean sat on his bed.

Dean glanced at the corner of his room, lip trembling with a mix of rage and sadness. “Maybe the pearl thought I wanted a Dad. Someone who could love me unconditionally. But I—” He paused sharply, eyes finding Castiel's all over again. He wanted to memorize his eyes as if it were the first time he saw them. Or the last. “I have you.” He breathed. For the first time, Dean hadn't been compelled to add Sam at the end of his sentence.

“You do,” Castiel smiled. And, god, Dean's heart wrenched at the sight. Cas didn't smile, not often. “You always have.”

Dean let out a shaky breath, leaning into Castiel's hand as it caressed his cheek. He sniffled slightly. “Cas, please…. Please promise me you'll stay. Even—Even if I push you away. You,” He was full-on crying now and Castiel was looking at him as if he was the most beautiful thing in the world. “You'll stay. No matter what.”

“I will.” Castiel whispered light as a feather. Two simple words but it was a promise that meant so much to Dean.

It was a promise Castiel never intended to break. Why would he? Especially when Dean seemed so desperate. So distraught. He could never leave Dean. Not again.

“Kiss me.” Dean whispered. Pleaded. He wanted to memorize everything about Cas. The strange body heat he gave off, the tilt of his head, how his lips pressed into a thin line when he was only minorly frustrated by Dean, the roughness of his stubble. Everything.

For the first time, Dean saw a smirk grace Castiel's lips. “Whatever you want, Dean.” He brought their lips together with a sigh.

They kissed for a while, pausing for breath in between kisses but they didn't go past that, ending up with Castiel in bed with Dean after he shed his trenchcoat, shoes, and tie. Dean dozed off, peaceful enough to fall asleep in Castiel's arms.

Even with a fading grace, Castiel didn't sleep much. His body ran well enough on it that sleep wasn't needed. So he stayed up, playing with the hairs on Dean's neck as he watched over him, soothing him as much as possible when he sensed a nightmare coming on.

“You think you're cursed sometimes Dean,” Castiel cooed on deaf ears but he didn't mind. He had to get it out. “That hate is the only thing that drives you. That you're not built for love. But you are. I think, sometimes—no, I know—that’s all you're made up of. And I–I promise we will find a better way,” Cas lifted his hand to Dean's shoulder, positioning it right above his scar. The scar he burned on his skin. “I love you, Dean.” He whispered into his ear.

For the rest of that night, Dean didn't have nightmares. For the rest of that night, he burrowed himself closer to Castiel. For the rest of that night, Michael was quiet.

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suguwuus · 4 months

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Could you write conner x daughter of hades. She has to comfort him about his nightmares about Luke after getting back from the Argo 2 mission.

ok so maybe i lied abt posting the mphfpc au first. also ?? was a bit confused w the ask but i made it work. reader is nico and hazel's sibling and yeah you'll figure it out. also i think it's more focused on reader than connor WAAAAHH sorry !! being a hades kid already has enough baggage so

wc: 1.8k words

contains: heavily hinted trauma/ptsd

You couldn't sleep. You just couldn't. Even with the warmth of another body pressing onto you, even with his boyish scent mixed with a hint of citrus, even with the assurance of every breath he took, and the breaths that tickled your side, you couldn't find it in you to want to sleep.

If you closed your eyes you'd see bloodshed and gnashing teeth and the flash of bronze. If you listened to anything other than your or his breathing you'd hear roars, of either the raging wind or the hordes of monsters in front of you, or the screams of your companions.

If you looked to the side you'd start picturing red eyes watching you through the window, hungrily waiting for you to let your guard down. If you looked to the other side you'd see your brother Nico's empty bed. You knew it was his, even though he hadn't left a trace.

You wondered how he was doing, but that made a lump grow in your throat and your eyes started to sting and something ugly burned in the pit of your stomach. Fuck! Why did you agree to go on that stupid quest anyway? Quest...no, it wasn't a quest. It was a mistake, that's what it was. A mistake that led you into being separated from your half-siblings—who knows where they are or what they're doing, definitely not you; or if they were still alive—no. No, you told yourself firmly. You would've felt it if it happened. And you have not felt anything. You refused to even entertain the thought.

Your mind started to cloud with worry. Even though you couldn't remember much, the feeling was still there. Nico's eyes genuinely looked like those of a cornered animal; it was the first time you'd ever seen him like that. And then after that, you were on the shores of Long Island, battered and bruised and barely coherent. It was a bad ambush and Nico had shadow traveled you back to camp.

You didn't want to think about him. Because you'd end up crying, and you didn't like crying. And you didn't want to end up crying about everything else, like the burden on your shoulders and possible survivor's guilt, the weight Nico and Hazel would be carrying right now, the responsibility, the lack of your siblings' whereabouts, the primordial deity Gaea waking up...

Fuck. You were spiraling again. In the literal sense of the word, your head wasn't spinning, but it did feel quite loud.

You bit your lip. It's here again.

You didn't want to move. You were afraid you'd explode if you did. Your fingertips tingled. Electricity tickled at the callouses, calling for the hilt of a blade, the surface of a stone to throw, the sinew of a bowstring, the shaft of a spear, even the trigger of a gun.

It's the bloodlust and jitters you'd been feeling these past few weeks, when traveling with Nico, defending the Argo II when attacks struck or yourself when you were out alone. And it didn't help much now, now that you were thinking about all these things and sleep deprived, dehydrated, hungry, and possibly delirious. You were afraid that if you got up and moved your body like how a puppeteer would work his marionette you wouldn't be satisfied with anything until you were able to destroy something completely.

The ugly feeling in your stomach was close to bubbling over the brim. You had parted your lips to sigh, but nothing came out. A jolt of horror went through you. Were you turning into a shadow?

You did the first thing you could do to ground yourself—squeeze Connor's arm which was draped over your body.

He grunted in his sleep and stirred, but didn't wake. You couldn't turn your head to look at him.

This time, when you sighed, you heard your shaky breath. That calmed you down a bit. But Connor moved again beside you, and this time you could hear a faint whisper come out of his mouth.

When you finally look over at him, he's clammy. Sweat is beading at his temples and his brows are furrowed. It takes you a second to snap out of it, a second and the feeling of his hand twitch against your midriff.

"No. I won't..." He's mumbling things, and you wonder whether you should wake him up or not. You've seen and heard of incidents where demigods are woken up in the middle of their nightmares and it springs them into action, triggering their battle skills and having them attack the person who woke them up. Then again, you weren't afraid of that happening with him.

Oh, so now you trusted him enough to think that he wouldn't attack you on instinct?

But then again, no matter what happened when you woke him up, you'd forgive any reaction, violent or not. After all, you yourself stayed up to avoid your own bad dreams.

You didn't want to see him thrash around and you didn't want him to suffer in his dreams for any longer. And you didn't care if it risked your face to wake him up. So you give his arm a little shake.

He doesn't wake, so you do it harder. You use your voice this time. "Connor." It sounds hoarse. It breaks through the silence like a jagged blade.

He stirs again, and you can see his irises move under his eyelids. He blinks awake a few moments later, arms moving confusedly as if he was still, quite literally, half asleep.

When his gaze landed on you, he flinched, but then he realized it was you, so he turned away, embarrassed. Clapping a hand over his mouth, he almost fell off the bed, swinging his legs over the edge.

"I-I can't...oh, Y/N, I'm sorry, sweetie, shit, was I keeping you up?" He looks over his shoulder at you and you slowly shake your head, not sure how to respond to him.

"You were having a bad dream," You explained. "Did I do you a favor or...?"

Connor stayed silent. He put his elbows on his thighs and bent over, cradling his head in his hands. "I don't understand, I don't understand, why did he show up again, I thought—shit." He murmured a string of Greek curses.

Carefully, you scooted over to him. You put a shaking hand on his shoulder. "Do you...uhm..."

"It's...Luke." His voice was strained, like he forced himself to utter the name. The name of his older half-brother who taught him all the best tricks, taught him how to swim, showed him all the best hiding spots in camp, explained all the best ways to pickpocket someone, and also betrayed the camp years ago, becoming the vessel of Kronos, the god who took part in causing the Second Titan War.

You didn't really know much about him. But you could tell that he meant a lot to Connor and Travis. And you could only imagine their pain having to take over Cabin 11 for someone who now had gold eyes and was leading an army to his previous (and their) home.

Connor was shaking his head, and you awkwardly rubbed his shoulder. "I don't want him to come back, I thought I was done with that. He's dead," he said loudly, and for a second you thought he was telling it to himself and not you.

"Gods, I don't want him to come back. I miss him, yeah, no shit, but I don't want him back, I have my own big brother—"

"One that isn't a douchebag, yeah," You blurted out without thinking. You were too groggy to care about his reaction, but to your great surprise, his shoulders trembled with a small laugh.

He sighed and turned to face you. His bottom lip looked red and bitten, the skin punctured, and there were marks on his forehead where he must've dug his nails into. But he was smiling softly, with trembling lips. Smiling like you were the only thing that mattered to him at that moment.

He opened his arms, and when you didn't move closer, remaining curled up on the other edge of the bed like that, he was the one who scooted over, attaching himself to your body as a source of comfort.

He heaved a sigh and murmured something you couldn't understand, but you followed his lead and wrapped an arm around him, too. You would never get over how warm he was, especially in contrast to how naturally cold you were.

Eventually you ended up with both your arms around him, one hand in his hair, the other patting his back. You trusted yourself enough to finally close your eyes. The darkness wasn't so bad when you could feel Connor in your embrace.

You could still feel his brows which were knit together, his tense shoulders and his pursed lips. And yet you were willing to hold him like this until he was all better.

"I'm here," you whispered. "It's alright. It was just a dream. Luke is..." You paused, running your hand through his hair. You were never good with words. "He's not here. He's never coming back anymore, you're safe." Your breath almost got caught in your throat. In the general sense, that was an obvious lie, but you hoped he understood what you meant.

"It's just me, Connor. It's okay."

You felt him bite his lip again, but then eventually he released his balled fists and hugged you back, finally relaxing. The both of you adjusted so you were leaning against pillows propped up, and when Connor finally sat up from pressing his face into you there were lines on his face and he was a bit flushed.

You stared at him, taking in his features and his slight frown. "Are...you okay?" You asked tentatively. He nodded, looking down. You could see his eyelashes were wet. His breath still trembled, but only for a moment. The best you could do was give him a supportive squeeze.

"Thanks." There was a rustle as he pulled the blanket over the both of you, getting back into a comfortable position. "Thank you, for...yeah. I'll try not to think about it." He leaned on the wall and laced his fingers through yours, sighing against your neck. "What would I do without you?"

When you didn't answer, unsure of what to respond with, he chuckled lightly and kissed your cheek. "It's a rhetorical question. I love you."

#— suguwuu's posts #connor stoll #connor stoll x reader #pjo x reader #pjo oneshots #pjo #hey girls im back

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