#but this boy really is so overhated and for what
Text
Walking AC Unit
"-It being a hot day in Twisted Wonderland, and im assuming since Y/N’s a dragon with ice magic, they probably radiate coldness so everyone’s swarming around them" Once again, courtesy of- Your Imaginary Friend on Quotev
As I've previously mentioned through out my writing, Y/N naturally produces an icy air around them. While the heat bothers them, their cold helps them to stay on the cooler side of things. One particularly hot day at NRC, the First Year Squad, whiling hanging out with you, found out that you helped them cool down by just being near. They stuck with you the rest of the day, others would soon follow suite.
"Why does it have to be soooo hooot today!?" Epel whined. He fanned his face with his hand rapidly. Ace's face was flushed red, Deuce's body slouched from exhaustion and Jack's ears drooped down as he panted lightly. Sebek said nothing, but the sweat on his forehead was easy to spot.
"I don't know man, but it's starting to kill me!" complained Ace. It was a peculiarly hot day at NRC. The sun shone brighter and hotter than it has all year, and the schools AC system did nothing to stop the students from overheating. Even the teachers couldn't really teach during class because of the heat.
Jack decided to speak. "Man, things were bad enough this morning, but everything got worse after that, even at the end of the school day. It's hotter than Savanaclaw out here, and that's saying something. His tail wagged behind him in an attempt to cool off.
"I don't know what you humans are talking about! This weather is nothing! I don't feel a thing!" Even the heat couldn't stop Sebek from yelling. "Shut up, Sebek!" the other boys said in unison. That was enough to convince Sebek to quiet down. Deuce turned around and spotted someone familiar.
"Hey guys, look, it's Y/N." he said as he pointed at the tall dragon heading their way. Everyone else turned to face You. You walked towards them pretty quickly, it was kinda scary from their point of view.
"Are you guys heating to death right now!?" you asked. Your voice had a hint of exhaustion in it. The others groaned in confirmation. You nodded your head in understanding. Ace eyed you up and down, his face changed to look confused.
"You don't even look hot, Y/N. Do you even got hot? Being an ice dragon and all." You paused. It was a question you've been asked before, and were tired of hearing. You looked at him with a strained, open smile and close eyes. Your fangs glinted off the light of the sun. It sent a shiver down his spine. Behind him, Epel let out a quiet gasp. He's known you long enough to know about you and heat.
"Yes, Ace. I am an ice dragon. Despite that, even a little bit of heat can effect me. Ice dragons just don't sweat. I feel like I'm dying." you told him with a dangerous edge in your voice. He backed off. Epel decided to ask how you were staying cool enough not pass out. You pointed at the medium sized bag that sat across your chest.
"I bought this at Sam's shop. He knew I was coming and had it ready for me. It's enchanted and creates ice in its pockets. When I get to hot from the heat, I just take out a piece of ice-" you grabbed one for a demonstration. "-and plop in into my mouth and eat it." The ice fell in your mouth and crunched as you chewed it. "The extra ice in my body allows me to cool down and my icy mist gets colder." You could already feel the effects.
"That's actually pretty neat, that's all it really takes for you to control your body temperature." Deuce said with his chin in his hand as he looked at you. The others nodded in agreement.
"WOAH, WAIT!!" Ace yelped. Everyone turned to him. He was patting his face and neck frantically. "How in the world?!". He looked genuinely confused and shocked. Deuce placed his hand on Ace's shoulder.
"Dude, what's wrong? What's got you so riled up?" Deuce asked. Ace looked at Deuce and pointed at his face. "I don't feel hot anymore!! I've stopped sweating too!!" he exclaimed. We all took a closer look at him. He was right, his face even lost the red it was once covered in and no sweat could be seen. Everyone else started patting themselves down to find that they weren't hot anymore either. Epel stopped and stared at you.
"Y/N, you said that you create a cold mist around you, right?" You nodded. "It must be that then! You're mist is cooling us down, just like it does to you!". You thought for a moment, soon coming to the same thought process as Epel. "You're right, it's actually not the first time it's happened. I just didn't think about it before this.", you said as your wings opened. If your friends were really benefiting from your presence, might as well help them out a bit more with more mist.
"Now that I look more, I can see the mist around you." Jack said. "It's faint, but there." His beast-man eyes helped him out.
"That's great!!!" cheered a new voice. Cater came out of no where and jumped onto your back, clearly not thinking. He immediately regretted his decision as he felt your cold scales send a jolt of freezing cold up his arms and through his body. He backed off and took to standing under your open right wing. "Now I have a way to keep cool from this blistering heat." he said with a dramatic twang in his words.
For the rest of the afternoon, Ace, Deuce, Epel, Jack, Sebek and Cater stuck with you like they were attached to your hip. It was annoying at first, but you quickly adjusted and didn't mind the company in the end. You all found a large, shady tree to sit under. They snuggled up close to you while you sat with your back to the tree. Apparently, being outside now meant they didn't mind the freezing of your scales. Epel sat between your legs, Jack and Cater on your right side laying in your lap. Deuce and Ace sat on your left with Ace's head on your shoulder and Deuce nudging into your side. Sebek, grudgingly, placed his head against you thigh.
Cater took out his phone and snapped a picture of you all together. You only managed to get a glimpse of the caption he posted with the picture. Staying cool w/ the first years! #Y/NIsThePerfectACForTheHotDay! You decided to ignore it and just let him do his thing. You know how Cater can be at times. Nothing happened for a while, that is until you got some extra guests.
Leona and Ruggie found you all. With no words, Leona joined the group and quickly fell asleep. Ruggie joined as well and told you that he and Leona had seen Cater's Magicam post and just had to get in on the action.
Soon, even more of your friends came by. Kalim, who was followed by Jamil, came and both found a snug place right under your right wing. Jade, Floyd and Azul found you eventually. Floyd got as close as he could and Jade sat next to him, Azul found a comfy spot between the Twins. Rook plopped down from the actual tree and laid in the grass next to your tail.
Riddle and Trey had actually accidentally stumbled upon your dog pile of boys. They found spots under your left wing. Ortho saw Cater's post and dragged Idia by the collar and forced him to come as well. Idia kept a distance at first but fell asleep and Ortho pushed him closer. Vil was reluctant but Rook convinced him to lay down. Later came Lilia, with Silver sluggishly in tow. Silver passed out immediately after finding a spot in your lap (if anyone could still fit honestly). Lilia climbed the tree and found a low hanging branch where he decided to take a nap upside down. Malleus, who was right behind Lilia and Silver, sat next to you and he revealed his tail. He intertwined yours and his tail with a smile.
Eventually, you were the only one awake. The heat of the day left everyone exhausted. Much to your surprise, all the boys covering you didn't make the heat worse. Just in case though you ate a piece of ice. The mist got colder and everyone seemed to get a bit more comfortable. You stretched your wings our further and made sure to cover those you could reach. You felt your own exhaustion start to take over and your eyelids fluttered open and shut. Content with the people you cared about surrounding you, you gave into the desire to sleep, happy with where you were at.
(I loved the idea of you and all the boys sitting under a tree with your wings spread across everyone! Fun fact: After this hot day, Professor Oski (refer back to First Day of School chapter) taught you how to use the personal snow cloud spell. It helped from this incident happening again.)
53 notes
·
View notes
Text
Meus ex Machina, Chapter 17: Two Steps Forward
Edited public domain image of two hands reaching for each other, lit in deep blue and neon green.
Prev - Two Steps Forward - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]
WC: 3305 - Rated: T - CW: swearing, suggestive, non-graphic nudity, (memories of) non-graphic violence
Logan (and Roman) work obsessively at finding a way to help Remus. Just as Lucas had.
And just as Lucas had, they have a breakthrough.
“Re’s really progressing in his control,” Luc murmured, head pillowed on Janus’ belly. His head rose and fell with each breath, a soft marking of time as they wound down for the evening.
Janus hummed and carded an ungloved hand through his hair. “He seemed so happy at dinner after your excursion.”
“When we first got out there, he… he started to get overwhelmed. Ro did, too, at first. The…” His brow furrowed, then smoothed under Janus’ touch. “Old Boston is so close to the camps… That’s a lot of voices, a lot of pain.” Luc shifted, smiling up at him through messy curls. “Your lessons carried Ro through it.”
The fact he could help at least one of the boys eased the tightness in Janus’ chest. “That helps, love. Thank you.” His decade-old promise to keep them both safe danced through his mind and fueled every attempt to get Re’s powers under control. “So… how did you get through to Re?”
His gaze shifted, suddenly fascinated by the crooked edge of a thumbnail.
“Luc?” Janus prompted, hand stilling in his hair.
“I took just a little of the hurt,” he said, finally looking up. “Just enough to let him concentrate.”
“Luc! You promised you’d focus on techniques to help him stay calm, not just doping him!” Janus sat up and Luc pushed up onto his elbow, bringing them closer to eye level. “He needs to learn how to filter the perceptions coming in, not just… not care about what’s out there.”
“It wasn’t a full block! I swear, ma cheri,” Luc insisted, reaching for his arm. “We can’t just yank off the training wheels and let him teeter off a cliff.”
“I’m not suggesting—”
“‘Trust me, dammit,’” Luc whispered with a little smile. His grin grew when Janus sighed, shaking his head with a laugh.
“Now that’s just unfair,” he murmured, pushing back the hair from his eyes. “You can’t use my own words against me.”
“I can’t?” Luc chuckled, sliding closer and nuzzling against his collarbone. “Who’s gonna stop me?”
~
Twenty-three weeks.
One hundred and sixty-one days.
One hundred and sixty-one days since he’d first looped a reverse-field esper coil over The Prince’s shoulders.
“Damn,” he’d grunted under the weight but still laughed. “If this doesn’t work, Iron Man, I’m gonna make you bench this thing.” Logan had spent a lot of time in the fitness room after that first failed test.
One hundred and sixty-one days of breaking the vise on V’s printer, of burning his fingertips on overheated solder. One hundred and sixty-one days of The Prince’s downcast eyes, of flicking off a too-much or two-little device.
One hundred and sixty-one nights of whispering together outside The Muse’s door about that day’s attempts. And about the book The Muse was reading, and the Springsgate bridge the team had saved from collapsing.
About the dreams they’d each had the night before.
It had taken three weeks, but they’d finally convinced V to install a vent in the hall at Logan’s level to make it easier for the Muse to hear him. After watching Logan stretch and strain to get closer to the vent he’d installed at eye level—at a standing Mad Lad’s eye level—he’d finally obliged. The work in the hall was quick, but Silvertongue had needed to dig up some ancient set of manual tools so V could install the bolts on The Muse’s side.
“Wait, not that drill—”
“Dammit!” The power drill sparked and sizzled in his grip, and the acrid scent of burnt insulation filled the air. “Mac, you got the hand drill—” Logan had chuckled and thunked into his outstretched palm.
“Right here, V.”
One night, he and The Muse had tried to sit together on either side of the open door for an actual face-to-face conversation. But the temptation had been too great and all it had taken was one tiny touch for fire to spread between them.
At least it had been brief enough not to have woken The Prince or Silvertongue.
One hundred and sixty two days later, after everyone had gone to sleep, Logan tapped at The Muse’s door, trial #398 freshly polished and nestled in his lap.
“You said Ro helped you?”
The Muse sat on the floor, two arms’ length distance from the open door. He fidgeted with his sleeves, twisting them together in his lap, and chewed the edge of his mustache. He watched with wide eyes as Logan maneuvered to the floor—less than gracefully—and turned to retrieve the thick metal ring from his wheelchair.
Logan nodded, holding up the device. It was heavy, though perhaps not as heavy as it looked. It was about three inches wide and a good inch thick, a large durasteel bangle custom fit to wrap around The Muse’s wrist.
Well, designed to fit tightly around his brother’s wrist. Eyeing The Muse’s far bonier wrist now, Logan nodded, certain it would fit him comfortably.
“And Ro’s not awake, is he?”
“No,” He shook his head, smile tight. That first time they’d touched, it had taken The Prince several days to completely recover from the overflow of thought and perception from The Muse’s unshielded mind. “He’s asleep. And if anything goes wrong, we’ll flip the shield back up. He might have a brief nightmare. Nothing worse than that.”
Nothing worse than starting all over with their tests. Again.
Logan shook away his pessimism and met The Muse’s eyes before setting down the coil on the floor between them. “Are you ready?”
The Muse’s fingers twitched as he reached for the device. Completely powered down, it lay heavy and quiet on the floor, with none of the staticy buzz it usually emitted. His hand hovered above it, just shy of touching it.
“But if you turn it on in here, won’t my shield break your—your”
“Esper coil,”
“Yeah.” The Muse traced a spray of wires woven along the edges. Patton had helped with the braiding and Logan briefly wondered if he recognized his work. The Muse looked up and nodded. “You should see what he does with hair.”
Dragging his eyes away from The Muse’s soft green ones, Logan nodded and pointed to the power switch. “You will need to activate the coil immediately after I shut down your field. I would, but—” Right hand outstretched, he wiggled his fingers at the same time he waved his left stump.
The Muse chuckled. “Okay, I can do that. And you’re sure it’ll work?”
“I’m positive the coil will protect you. I would never knowingly put you in any jeopardy. We’ve tested it extensively and—”
“No.” The Muse touched his sleeve. “I mean are you sure it will work to protect you from me? That time the power went out, and when we touched… I…” He hung his head. “I hurt you.”
“We hurt each other,” he reminded him. “I will be fine,” Logan promised, before The Muse could argue—again—about who hurt who more. “If need be, I’ll reactivate the field.” He smiled, his hand close enough to the Muse’s to feel that glorious buzzy heat radiate off his skin.
“Okay,” he nodded. “I trust you, Logan. This switch here?”
“Precisely.” Eyes fixed on The Muse, Logan climbed up the perch next to the door, then felt along the wall for the shield’s control panel. The cover squeaked when he flipped it up. He nodded one more time and pressed his palm against the shield’s controls.
The numbers counted down and The Muse’s mustache quivered, and he shook out the hand hovering over the coil’s switch. The panel flicked to ‘0’ and a strangled sound spilled from his lips, a matching wail filling Logan’s mind.
Abruptly, the pain was gone and the Muse looked up, blinking as he smiled back at him. The cry in Logan’s mind shifted, deepening into a soft, comforting hum. It reminded Logan of a lullabye.
“It worked,” the Muse whispered. He inched closer, still gripping the coil. “I… It… It doesn’t hurt,” he said, looking around the room as though he could see through the walls.
Maybe he could.
“I…” He let out a low sigh and his entire face melted into a softer smile, his shoulders dropped, hands loose even as he hugged the coil close to his belly. “I can hear… I can hear y—” The Muse’s eyes flew wide open. “You hurt!”
“What?” Logan scrabbled for the panel, stabbing at the controls. “No, no, no, I’m so sorry, I’ll turn it back on, I’m sorry, I was so sure, I—” It would fry the coil, but all that mattered was stopping the Muse’s pain. Hand trembling, he broke the sequence and had to start from the beginning, hurrying to get the protective field reactivated.
But the Muse was faster.
“No, Logan, I mean you hurt,” he said softer, gently pulling his hand from the controls. When had he gotten so close? The Muse’ hand was warm against his, but it was more than a surface heat. His touch felt… textured. Plush, like a fluffy towel. Or dandelion heads. What insulation looked like.
Logan relaxed and moved closer. The Muse just nodded, still holding his hand, coil now wrapped around his wrist. Scarred and calloused fingers oh-so-gently traced over his own misshapen digits, brushing over the scarred knuckles where his pinky and ring finger had once been.
“I can hear how much you hurt here,” the Muse whispered. “And here,” he added, tapping what was left of his legs, then his arm.
Logan looked away, but the warmth spreading from the Muse’s touch remained. “Phantom limb pain. The clinic said it’s all in my head,” he muttered.
“Of course all our pain is in our heads,” the Muse replied, sliding closer. “So is our joy and our pleasure and our fear and our need.” His hands were so warm. “Our love and our desire.”
This close, Logan was certain he heard the Muse’s words like his own thoughts, though with the coil set this high that shouldn’t be possible.
The Muse grinned as he touched his chin, two gentle fingers turning him so their eyes would meet. “You’re softer now, but I can still hear you. And I think you can hear me.”
Logan shivered, the Muse’s excitement buzzing under his own skin, easing his worry. The movement set off a wave of sharp ache, long-gone calves screaming to be stretched. He stifled a cry. “And… and I’m not hurting you?”
“No,” he said, wincing in time with Logan.
The panel called to him. “No, I am. I can see it. I’m hurting you. I should raise your shield.”
“No, please don’t,” the Muse stroked his hand. “I have an idea.” Pulling back, he sat fully on the floor, legs crossed at the shins in front of him. One hand rested on his thigh and the other he held in offering to Logan. “Close your eyes and take my hand.”
With one more glance at the control panel, Logan slid down to the floor and did as he was asked. Eyes closed, Muse’s hand wrapped around his and he laced their fingers together, with Logan’s pinkie—his pinkie— brushing against a long, jagged scar over the back of Muse’s hand.
“You feel that, don’t you?” Laughter played in his voice. “Now take my other hand,” he whispered.
“But I—” Logan began even as warm, callused fingers enveloped his left hand. Tears pricked his eyes as he flexed fingers he hadn’t felt since the bot attack. “H—how? How are you doing that?”
“Keep your eyes closed,” Muse instructed instead of answering. “And see.”
Eyes still shut, Logan looked down and smiled at his own thin, pale fingers threaded together with Muse’s. The tips of Muse’s fingers were scarred and rough, but his palms were soft and wonderfully warm. Logan squeezed his hand, laughing, then traced a thick knotted scar just above his first knuckle. The bones were crooked beneath his skin, like they’re broken and fused not quite the way they’d been. Muse nodded.
“I punched the cinderblock,” he explained with a dry laugh. “I thought it might be a good distraction, but…” He shook his head and gave him a little shrug when their eyes ‘met.’
Logan stroked the scar, nodding slowly, then brought their shared grip together and compared his hands side-by-side. His own hands weren’t identical, but they never had been. Without the augmentations commonplace for Traditional children of the highest classes, the fingers on Logan’s dominant left hand had always been just a little thicker, a little stronger.
He’d always scarred easily and his skin freckled in the sun. This hand, his hand Muse was showing him was splashed with the same familiar constellation of freckles and moles on the back of it where he’d missed his sunscreen, awkwardly applying it with his non-dominant hand. He’d had the marks since before the final round of ozone replacements back when he was still a child. Know you like the back of my hand…
Muse’s Illusion was… perfect. Incredible, in fact. Logan could ‘see’ his old hand so clearly. But—
“Your mind remembers,” Muse whispered, leaning closer until their foreheads touched, hands clasped between them. “It’s all in there, bouncing around in your head, little memories hiding from your own thoughts.”
Logan floated in the gentle cadence of his words.
“But your mind keeps it all, the memory never really goes away. Nothing does. Nothing dies in your mind. Your mind remembers what your hand looked like, remembers what things felt like. Your mind remembers everything.”
As if on cue, Logan curled around himself, a tearing, burning pain shooting up his left arm and his right hand clenched around Muse’s. The pickerbot’s shadow loomed over them, cold metal pulling him up by the hair and—
“Shhh, it’s okay,” Remus whispered. A mustache bristled against the knuckles of his right hand as warm, chapped lips pressed kisses against his mangled fingers and Logan gradually softened his grip. “See? You’re safe.” When his right hand grew slack, Remus laid it in his own lap. “Rest your hand there,” he instructed, then wrapped both hands around Logan’s trembling left arm.
Palm smoothing down over skin that wasn’t really there, he gripped Logan’s phantom left hand, then firmly massaged the muscles in his shoulder and upper arm, pressing away the pain of ripped ligaments and flesh, the physical evidence of a solid, whole humerus overriding the memory of shattered, grating bone.
His hands moved down Logan’s left arm, pressing soft spirals into his elbow and over the flexors in his forearm, his wrist, each finger. When he was done, Remus lifted Logan’s left hand to his lips and gently kissed each fingertip.
Logan flexed his left hand, twisting his arm first one way and then the other. Remus smiled, watching.
“Better?” he asked and Logan nodded. “Now your legs. May I?”
“I trust you, Remus,” he said, laying back. Remus. When had he started to call him that?
Remus only smiled and a fuzzy brightness filled his mind. Warm sunlight on a hot day, a cool breeze raising goosebumps at the back of his neck, and over his cheeks. His heart thrummed in his chest, syncopated with the beat of Remus’ just under his skin. He relaxed as Remus shifted his body, freely sharing images of how he wanted to move him.
Stretched out on the floor, head pillowed on one of the cushions, he lifted each leg one at a time as Remus massaged away a year’s worth of knots and aches from phantom muscles. Remus slowly worked his way up until his fingers grazed the line of fire half-way up his thigh where the pickerbot had torn him apart. He flinched.
“It’s okay, Logan, see for yourself.”
His words were soft and voiceless, but clear in Logan’s mind. He looked past closed eyes and saw his legs were healthy and whole, lanky muscles relaxed under Remus’ ministrations. The fiery ache was gone, replaced by Remus’ soft, gentle touch.
“Whenever it hurts, whenever you hurt, remember this feeling,” he said, the silent words stitching themselves into his every cell, neurons crackling and popping like those old vids of campfires. Remus helped him sit up then cupped his face between both hands. “You’re safe now, Logan.”
Remus’ words melted into his skin with the heat of his touch and Logan nodded. “I know.”
He leaned against the door and Remus curled close, tucking himself under his stump of an arm. Slowly, Logan reached up and brushed back a bit of Remus’ hair where it had fallen into his eyes. Warmth spread through his chest, a low rumbly hum. He wasn’t sure if it had started in Remus and spread to him. Or the other way around.
Just as slowly, Remus wrapped one arm around his belly, molding himself to Logan’s side. “Is this okay?”
Logan couldn’t tell if he’d asked out loud. He nodded, cheek rubbing against the top of Remus’ head. “More than okay,” he said with his mouth. Don’t let go, he said with his heart.
And Remus heard both. “I won’t,” he promised.
They stayed like that until their eyelids grew heavy and Logan’s hand stuttered and fell against Remus’ shoulder.
“It’s late and you’re drifting off,” he murmured, shifting so he could look into his eyes. Remus blinked slowly, concern mixed with a happy daze. “It’s probably safer for you to sleep in your room, just in case…” He jiggled the coil on his wrist, its circuitry’s buzz reassuring. The key to so much.
But Remus was right. Logan nodded and he tried to sit up, a vision of clambering up and into his chair pulling him further from sleepiness.
“I can help.” Remus moved to a crouch, arms open. “We’ll work together,” he grinned, understanding both Logan’s need and hesitation without him having to speak it. He could get used to that. “Teamwork and all that, right?”
“Right.” Conjugations from an ancient Latin textbook, one of those old screened ones you could only read in the library, popped into his groggy brain as Remus lifted him up so he could reach the door controls. “Quorum par, tuum par, meus par…” [ ‘Our partner, your partner, my partner’ ]
Remus chuckled and settled him into his chair after the door slid open. “‘Meus par?’ Does that mean what I think it means?”
“Ah… Ah w—well—” Logan’s cheeks burned, the many meanings of the words ‘my partner’ flowing freely from Remus’ mind. “Th—that particular meaning might be more precisely translated as ‘socius meus.’”
Remus knelt next to Logan’s chair, keeping himself at eye level, if not just a little below. He then took Logan’s hand and held it to his own heart, the steady, rapid thrumming tickling them both.
“Or you could just call me ‘meus.’” Remus stared back at him, naked hope painting his features, a galaxy of emotions pouring from his mind. It left Logan dizzy and overwhelmed, this heady mix of joy and fear and… something soft he didn’t want to try to find words for. But did they really need words? Did they need words for what battered at the inside of his rib cage, fighting to be heard?
“Meus, then,” he whispered and Remus’ face bloomed in a smile. “Good night, Meus,” he said again.
“Good night, Logan.” He pressed a kiss against Logan’s knuckles and drew back into his room and let the door close.
Logan sat outside Remus’ room for a long time before slowly rolling down to the elevator. He called it and the doors slid open. He half-expected V to be waiting for him inside. But the elevator was empty.
After a minute or two, the elevator doors closed with him still sitting in the hall. The car remained where it was. Logan turned and rolled back to Remus’ door.
Remus was there, watching through the window.
“I don’t want to leave,” he said, hand trembling as he reached for the door panel. Remus nodded and leapt through the door as it slid open.
He crouched in front of his chair, both arms wrapped tight around Logan’s middle. “Then stay.”
#Meus ex Machina#sanders sides#ts logan#ts remus#intrulogical#ts janus#ts lucas#ts roman#ts patton#ts virgil#Machina#ts orange side#orange side#Silvertongue#The Muse#The Prince#Ultraviolet#Papa Bear#superpowers au#orangceit#just a tantalizing taste of what Janus and Lucas used to mean to each other
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
i see so many people saying how S1 Mike jumped off of a cliff for Dustin but S4 Mike would never and that's why they hate him and
just
like yes he's an asshole but that doesn't mean he would let his friends die without doing anything that's just plain stupid. he still cares about his friends so so much
or i see poeple saying that if this same scenario would happen now he wouldn't jump but would try to resolve it with words and like would that be so wrong????
this boy has seen so much death these past few years. they all did
if he said "no i will not kill myself just because some stupid bully who needs to harm others to feel better about himself told me to" i would fucking cheer him on
he would still do anything for his friends but if he would decide not to meaninglessly throw away his life in the process then you really can't blame him after all they've been through because now he knows what death looks like, he knows what it's like to see poeple die, he knows what it's like to survive and try to pick up the pieces and it wouldn't make him a bad person
(and anyways i still believe that Mike still would die for his friends yall just find anything to hate him for even if it's not canon)
#i am forever a#mike wheeler defender#and i won't apologise#like you don't have to like him that's ok#everyone has their own opinions and sometimes we just can't connect with some characters and don't like them for whatever reason#that's ok#but this boy really is so overhated and for what#for being an angsty trumatised teenage boy with internalised homophobia?#sorry just saw some people saying stuff again and i needed to get it out lol#and really i feel like when people see a character who would immediately die for their loved ones they're like#wow what a selfless brave hero#when in reality it mostly just means that they're broken and don't value their own lives#or see themselves as less worthy or even want to actively die#amd that's just sad#and when they see someone who actually does value their own life#and don't want to throw it away even if it's to save someone#and want to find a solution where they all live#people are like wow you're a selfish asshole and you should die#like wtf#ok i'm rambling too much now i'll stop#mike wheeler#byler#blue's 'mike's extreme defender' ramblings
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
I drew all of my historical AU Sebs!!!!
In order they are(with relevant links to lore info if you are curious!!): Napoleonic Hussar Seb(x), Renaissance Muse Seb(x) and Boy King/Emperor Seb(x)
Let me know which you like best!!!
#oh my fucking god this was truly the endurance race of drawing sessions#i just drew for four hours straight or so......FUN!#and it is now almost 5 am on a school night so pls wish me luck in school haha#basically this spawned from me seeing if i could sketch all 3 of my Sebs easily and then whoops 4 hours later they are finished!#i think now i can draw the hussar uniform with my eyes closed. it was so comforting to draw honestly ;;;;#this is actually the first time ive drawn boy king seb with colors!! so i think it turned out pretty well?#hey guys do you notice what all of the Sebs have in common...? they all have a gold motif...GOLDEN BOY CODED!!!#anyways i think the most developed of these AUs is boy king seb which is funny bcs its the one ive created most recently#but gaahhhhhh ive done so much research and im literally brainrotting over it constantly#now i need to draw fernando in his 3 AUs hahaha but drwing Seb is sooooo much more easy/comfy for me#did you guys also notice i have a fondness for a specific seb hairstyle? malaysia 2010 my truly beloved youve served me so well#i mentioned this already but like i dont get how drawing these kinds of clothing is far more preferable to me than drawing racesuits#well anyways i have so much fun researching into these different eras!! and then very fun to mix it with the drivers#im very surprised i was able to draw this. im not usually able to draw good chibi anatomy#but like seriously i think i was posessed by my thoughts of boy king seb and i just couldnt stop drawing#in didnt really have any mental roadblocks which is surprising#but then again these drawings are me mixing my two major interests atm so ofc it'll come to me easily and make me passionate!!#anyways time to go sleep pwease dont let this flop my hands literally are overheated from drawing LMFAO#catie.art.#sebastian vettel#f1#formula 1#f1 fanart#formula 1 art#formula 1 fanart#f1 art#boy king au#renaissance muse au#hussar au
99 notes
·
View notes
Text
transgender middle schoolers deserve the world forever and ever amen
#im a counselor for the 10-12 yr old group again this week at camp and theyre my fav group of kids im genuinely getting so emotional#like i remember being 11 and going to this camp and i just felt . so alone#but these kids r just so confident and unbothered like one of em just sat down next to me to complain abt overheating in his binder and like#:O oh my god im the role model im the safe older trans person i get to be that for them#i never really felt the need to look visibly queer but i really seriously get it now#who cares abt getting occasionally misgendered by the other volunteers if it means these kids can trust me more#also very exciting meeting a new group every week and seeing what some of the kids r obsessed about#one of em really loves earthworms another knows Everything about gaboons#and this one boy sits out from tag to tally on his clipboard the airline of every single passenger/cargo plane that flies overhead#literally going to cry i love these kids#oh yeah and they got bored and built a big cozy hut out of branches and dried grass within the span of like several hours
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
True Love's Kiss
Feat. Idia, Azul, Vil
Synopsis: You've fallen under a mysterious sleeping spell. Who can wake you up but your true love?
...
🎮 Idia Shroud 🎮
"ME?!"
Idia's shriek resounded through the infirmary before he was hushed by one of the nurses. He shrunk back in his embarrassment and turned back to the cheeky cat that was standing on the infirmary bed next to your sleeping form.
"Yes, you, shut-in. What have you got brimstone on your ears?" Grim scowled at the blue-haired boy who's hair was becoming quite pink with embarrassment. "Who else would kiss my henchman awake?"
"Literally anyone else, maybe?" Idia argued, hiding his face behind the collar of his jacket. "It's always Prince Charming in the stories. I'm about the farthest thing you could find."
"I think you're plenty charming, Idia!" Ortho chimed in with what would have been a smile if he didn't have his mask on. "Who's to say you won't break the spell?"
"I say," Idia groaned, his voice muffled by his jacket. "Aren't there any other cures? I thought Professor Crewel was working on an antidote."
Before Grim could open his mouth, Ortho interrupted.
"Nope! No other cure!" Ortho beamed with glee uncharacteristic for delivering grave news. "I already scanned and if my databases say there's no other cure than there's no other cure and you have to kiss them!"
Idia whined in mortification and buried himself further in his jacket, now almost entirely engulfed by the fabric, except for the tufts of flaming hair sticking out the top.
Grim tapped his paw impatiently, quite fed up with Idia's reservations. Every second you were asleep was a second that your poor, poor kitty boss went without tuna (he couldn't reach the cabinet where you put the cans).
"I could always go get Leona. He's a prince, so it's close enough, yeah?"
"No!" Idia shot up, his hair flared up in red, startling Grim so bad, Ortho had to catch him before he fell off the bed. Idia took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair until it returned to its regular electric blue.
"Don't even joke about that," Idia muttered through gritted teeth. "Makes my skin crawl to think of that grubby jock getting his slimy lips anywhere near Y/N."
"Fine, if you don't want anyone else to do it, then what's the issue?" Grim put his paws on his hips and shot Idia an impatient look. "You like them, they like you, they probably want to kiss you anyway so just hop to it! I'm starving over here!"
Idia snapped up in shock at Grim's words.
"Y/N... likes me?"
Grim scoffed in ridicule and rolled his eyes.
"Duh! What, have you been living under a rock? Oh, wait, you have, haven't you?"
Ortho immediately began protesting Grim's insult. Idia himself might've been offended if he wasn't preoccupied with his overheating brain.
Why in Wonderland would you like him? I mean that was just a ridiculous claim even though both Grim and Ortho seemed to believe it. Not many people even liked being around him much... but then again, you weren't other people.
You were the one who messaged him to go to sleep at midnight after gaming for too long. You brought him snacks and sat in comfortable silence in his dorm while he played video games. You never expected more from him and without realizing it, he has gotten used to having you next to him. It even happened sometimes that he would turn to say something to you while he was gaming, only to find you weren't there. It baffled him how you made your way into his daily routine almost without notice.
"Do they really?" Idia asked softly, catching the attention of both Grim and Ortho who had been exchanging some heated words of childlike manner. "Like me, I mean."
Ortho giggled at his brother's bashfulness.
"Of course they do! They never shut up about you!" Grim huffed, recalling the countless times he'd heard you practically gushing about the vitamin D deficient geek. "No clue why though. Guess Y/N likes 'em pale and sickly."
"I'm not- whatever," Idia didn't really have the fight in him to argue with Grim's impression of him. He took a deep breath and looked at Ortho. "Do you really think it would work?"
"Only one way to find out!" the little robot responded cheerily.
"What if..." Idia gulped. "What if it doesn't work and I just kiss them for nothing? What if..."
"Shut up and pucker up, dracula! I'm wasting away without my henchman!"
That earned Grim a pair of yellow-eyed glares.
Idia collected himself with a deep breath and leaned towards you.
"Nope, nope, nope, this is a bad idea, I can't do this," he panicked, standing up and waving his hands around in anxiety. Grim rolled his eyes and jumped onto Idia's shoulders, pushing him onto you with all the momentum the little creature could muster.
It was effective. Idia toppled forward onto the infirmary bed, catching himself just in time to not crush you, but not before his lips brushed yours.
Idia jumped back, crashing to the floor quite devoid of grace. He, Ortho, and Grim all held their breath, waiting for something to happen.
"Aw, man, our first kiss, and I wasn't even awake for it!"
Idia brightened at the sound of your voice. He jumped back to his feet to see your drowsy eyes locked on him.
"Hi, Charming," you lazily smiled at the blue-haired boy. "Thanks for rescuing me."
Idia's face went slack with shock and his face turned so red you were afraid he might explode.
"Perfect! Now that you're awake, get me tuna, human!"
...
🐙 Azul Ashengrotto 🐙
"This is such a bad idea."
Deuce echoed for the nth time since Ace had come up with his little scheme.
"I know but just think," Ace smirked at your sleeping body, which the two were carrying through the Octavinelle dorm, Ace supporting your arms, Deuce carrying your legs, like they were carrying a dead body. "Imagine the look on the prefect's face when they wake up and see Azul They'll probably think they're dreaming."
"Yeah, I think they've had that dream before," Grim scowled from where he rode atop your belly. "Wouldn't be surprised with how down-bad they are for that slimy little junior mafia boss."
"It'll be fine, I'm sure," Ace dismissed, ignoring Deuce's concerned look. "And if anything bad happens, it'll probably be the prefect ending up with a contract, not us."
"That's kind of a terrible thing to say about a cursed person," Deuce pointed out matter-of-factly.
"Pssh, where'd your moral compass come from, huh?"
"From my mom," Deuce spat defensively. Ace was about to respond when they were both startled by a looming figure standing menacingly behind Deuce.
"Well, well, well, what have we here?"
Both first years gulped in fear at the sound of the eel's unison voices.
"Is our poor prefect injured?" Jade frowned though his eyes held a devious sparkle.
"Sort of..." Grim started but jumped back when Floyd grinned at him menacingly.
"We can't have Shrimpy being hurt, now can we?" he flashed his sharp teeth at the sleeping prefect. "We'll take 'em off your hands, fix 'em up real nice."
"Will we get them back?" Ace asked, fearing the answer. Jade responded with a squinty smile.
"That remains to be seen."
"Hey, wait a minute-!" Deuce tried to protest but was cut off when Floyd lifted your limp body with two hands and flung you over his shoulder.
"Careful, Floyd," Jade warned. "We can't have damaged goods."
The unfortunate trio was left to watch as you were hefted into the Mostro Lounge, wondering if they would ever see you again.
Meanwhile, in the Mostro Lounge, Azul was peacefully tallying profits in his office when his door was kicked down.
"What the-" he shrieked. Azul stared in horror as Floyd barged into the room with a body flung over his shoulder. "Did you... Did you actually kill someone this time?"
"Not this time," Floyd responded cheerfully. Azul managed to stand up from his chair right before Jade swept everything off of the polished mahogany desk in front of him.
"What are you doing?!" Azul yelled but was quickly silenced when Floyd set your limp body down on the now-empty desk. "Is that Y/N?"
"Yup!" Floyd said, popping the "p" with a sly smile.
"Are they...?" Azul asked hesitantly.
"Just sleeping, fortunately," Jade responded with a similar grin. "But I'm afraid it's the work of magic. They won't wake until..."
At this point Azul was very concerned. His crush was unconscious on his desk and his business associates were far too smug to have good intentions.
"Until what? Seven's sake, just tell me why you brought them here!"
"Very well," Jade bowed his head in respect that felt more mocking than anything. "The prefect will remain asleep until they are woken up by true love's kiss. It is the belief of myself as well as Y/N own friends that you may be able to fulfill this requirement."
It must have been at least a full minute before Azul spoke again.
Jade waited patiently with a smile as Azul stared in shock and confusion, the gears behind his eyes obviously turning at superhuman speeds.
Azul finally snapped back into his regular businessman persona.
"Well, of course, I am obviously the most qualified candidate to undertake his task," Azul said nonchalantly, though both eels could easily tell it was a front.
"We'll leave you two alone then!" Floyd winked suggestively at Azul, the octopus' calm facade cracking ever so slightly.
Jade and Floyd shut the door to Azul's office and he could hear their laughter through the wood.
Azul took a deep breath and looked at your sleeping form. You looked so peaceful, your forehead free from worried wrinkles and lips devoid of any kind of scowl. Azul was used to being on the receiving end of some of these scowls/ incredulous looks. He couldn't deny he might have deserved some of the scrutiny you gave him, given that he did attempt to trick your friends into contracts so you would have to come visit him to save them. Perhaps if you wanted him to stop, you should stop wearing that adorable pout when you confront him!
You took a breath and Azul stood up so fast it scared him.
"Sevens," Azul muttered, running a hand through his hair. "When did I get this jumpy?"
He looked at you once more, taking in every still detail about you.
"Might as well stare, since you'll never be this calm around me again," he whispered as if he was afraid you would hear him through your enchantment. He sighed contentedly as he stared at your sleeping face.
After only a few seconds, he snapped himself back out of it.
"Stop it, Azul, that's creepy," he scolded himself, taking to pacing around his room. "Though to be fair, kissing someone who is under an enchanted sleep is far more creepy than just looking at them."
He peered at you again. Though it was easy to admire your serene expression, it was uncanny to see your face motionless, without a laugh or groan or yell behind it. Azul took a deep breath and steeled his nerves.
"Even if they hate me forever, it's worth a shot," he quietly hyped himself up. "But isn't it just true love's kiss? There's no way I'm their true love, that would be impossible. They dislike me far too much. But I would never forgive myself if I could have saved them..."
Azul grappled with his inner thoughts for who knows how long, before landing on the conclusion that he should just go for it and kiss you.
"If they do wake up, I'll apologize profusely until they forgive me for kissing them and then possibly draft a marriage contract...?" Azul hit himself in the head to snap himself out of it. "Stop it. Now's not the time to be thinking about that."
Azul took a sharp inhale and turned back to you.
"Oh, screw it!"
He exclaimed and rushed back to his desk, pressing his lips to yours before he could rethink it. It was the slightest kiss, barely even a kiss. Azul wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he had truly taken advantage of you.
He turned away faster than even the brief kiss. He held his breath, trying to notice tiny details about his walls to distract himself from the tension.
"What is... Where am I?"
Azul spun around, eyes wide with genuine shock. Upon seeing you groggily looking around, he straightened and cleared his throat.
When you turned toward the noise, you saw Azul, the absolute picture of perfection he always was. You would never have known he was feeling anything akin to anxiety if it weren't for the nervous tapping of his custom-tailored leather shoes.
"Azul?" You narrowed your eyes, taking in your environment. You were laying on a table, alone in a small room with Azul. "What is this? Don't tell me you finally got the tweels to drug me."
Azul opened his mouth to protest, a bit concerned that you were so used to stuff like that that you just sounded tired instead of worried, but he remembered his gentlemanly guise and rethought his next words.
"Honestly, Y/N, do you really think me so cruel?" Azul smirked, praying to the Seven for an excuse you would buy so he wouldn't have to explain the real situation. "I was not the one who brought you here. You were merely... dumped on my doorstep, shall we say."
"I just remember Ace and Grim screwing around in alchemy and they dropped some dumb potion..." You put together vague pieces of your memory before it clicked. "Ooooh, sleeping potion. I was knocked out, wasn't I? Bit stupid of those idiots to bring me here, but isn't that how they always are."
You jumped off the table as if you hadn't just been passed out. Azul was honestly surprised by your chipperness. You sighed and turned to him.
"So what did you do? What do I owe you?" You looked at Azul expectantly. He blinked a couple times before he felt embarrassing heat rise on his neck.
"I didn't- well I- that is to say-" Azul stared, scrambling for words. Nobody but you could make him this inarticulate. He took a deep breath and collected himself. "You don't owe me. If anything, I should be paying you for recompense."
You furrowed your eyebrows, very skeptical of any supposed kindness coming from NRC's resident schemer.
"What do you mean recompense? What happened?"
"I may have-" Azul coughed, trying to brush off what was so clearly bothering him. "This particular enchantment required-" Another cough. "I believe the particular wording was a true love's kiss. I provided a kiss of such manner. Because of the impropriety of this particular cure, I feel a certain responsibility to compensate you for such lack of consent."
You stared for a long time. Azul imagined that must have been what he looked like when Jade first told him about your condition.
"True love's kiss..." You trailed off, subconsciously bringing your fingers to your lips.
"Yes and I will be happy to provide compensation for emotional or physical damages or- or other."
You looked at Azul incredulously.
"You just told me you're my true love and you think I want money?!"
Azul was quite confused now.
"Do you not want money?"
"Well, I could always use it but at the particular moment, what I really want is for this dumb octopus to come and give me a real kiss."
...
🪞 Vil Schoenheit 🪞
It had been a few hours since you had been unceremoniously dumped on Pomefiore's doorstep. Apparently, some alchemical accident had happened, leaving you magically asleep with no known cure. Crowley had dropped your limp body at Pomefiore and offered extra credit to anyone who could fix you. It only made sense. After all, the Fairest Queen was quite proficient at potions, and so Vil prided himself on the same.
No one else had dared touch you once he spotted your body and glared at them. He had Rook carry you to the makeshift potions lab next to Vil's room. Rook, ever the drama queen, took every step to ensure your comfort while in your enchanted sleep. He set you up on a table with plush pillows and a lacy blanket. Vil thought the flowers Rook had arranged in your hands were a bit excessive but he was more preoccupied with finding a cure.
Vil told himself he was doing it for the extra credit, but really, anyone who knew him knew he didn't need it. Some part of him didn't like seeing you cursed.
For the past two hours, Vil had been rifling through every potion book he had, trying multiple recipes and feeling a little more disheartened every time it didn't work. One of the elixirs he whipped up burned right through his potted fern. He elected not to test that one on you.
Eventually, Vil came upon a book about curse-breaking.
"Can't believe I didn't see this before," he muttered to himself, flipping open the table of contents.
There was only one page on sleep spells. Vil ran his finger over the passage as he read it.
"The only way a sleep spells can be reversed is thought true love's..." Vil interrupted himself with a scoff. "That's ridiculous, that can't be the only way."
He looked over at your sleeping form, clutching your bouquet of flowers. The color was drained from your face and even the shade of your clothes looked grayer. Vil felt a pang of emotion, like a hand squeezing his heart at the sight of you so lifeless.
You were usually so full of life, bringing joy to those close to you. You stayed just out of the limelight, content to support your friends in their shenanigans but having your own fun outside of the public eye. Oftentimes, you took Vil along with you, giving him a taste of what it's like to be treated like a normal person.
It disturbed him so see you devoid of a smile or eye-roll or any sort of emotion that you wore on your sleeve.
No matter what it took, he would find a cure.
"You've already found a cure," Vil imagined you saying to him. "You're just too scared to use it."
"What do you know?" Vil grumbled quietly. Had he really fallen so far he was talking to himself? He wished you were really talking to him, really showing signs of life, even if it was to scold him. "There must be another cure somewhere. I don't care how long it takes me to find it."
"You know true love's kiss is the most powerful thing in the world," Vil's imaginary you said. "There isn't another way. And besides, would you rather me be awake now instead of in the 6 months it takes you to find something else?"
Vil huffed, more annoyed by the fact that he really didn't want to wait than what you were saying.
"Then why don't you tell me how to find your true love, hm? That'll take me longer than 6 months."
His imaginary you just stared at him, blinking pointedly. He stared back, trying to decipher what his psyche was trying to tell him.
"You don't think..." His face fell when he realized what that look meant. "It's not me, believe me."
"Well, some part of you obviously thinks it could be, because I think it could be you and I'm just in your head," you shrugged.
"I refuse," he immediately declared, turning away from where your real self laid. "If you were real, you would not agree. And by the way, who am I to kiss you while you're asleep?"
Vil looked over at your peaceful face and he swore he could see incredulity in your motionless expression.
"Stop looking at me like that, potato. I refuse to kiss you without proper consent."
Imaginary you stared at Vil again, unsettling him more.
"Come now, I don't need this from both of you," he picked up a potion book, pretending to read it.
"You could save me," imaginary you offered, your voice solemn in a way he couldn't imagine perfectly. He'd never heard you that serious. Guilt suddenly hit him in the chest, drawing his attention back to you.
Vil stared at you longingly for much longer than he would have allowed himself if you were conscious. He groaned and walked towards you.
"I want to save you, Y/N," Vil declared wistfully as he stood over you. "I do know if I can be your true love, but Seven, I'm out of ideas."
Vil leaned closer to you and brushed a hair out of your face.
"Maybe I'll be able to do this right one day."
Vil brought his lips to yours gently, barely touching them before he pulled away. He watched your face for any signs of movement. When you stayed stationary, he turned away, trying to shut out his disappointment.
"Honestly, when did I get so delusional?" Vil scoffed, desperately trying to push down his feelings. "In what sort of foolish fantasy do I count as Y/N's true love?"
"Mine, probably."
Vil whirled around, his usual grace abandoned in his shock at hearing your voice in his ears in lieu of his head.
You groaned as you sat up, a bit confused as you examined the flowers you were holding.
"Sorry, that was probably a dumb thing to say," you laughed, shocking Vil with how easily you adjusted to your surroundings. "Though I guess you really are my true love. You can't try to deny it, I've got the receipts."
Vil's lip quirked up at your instant snap back to teasing.
"My word against yours, potato."
...
Buy me a Kofi! ☕
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twst x reader#disneytw#idia shroud#idia shroud x reader#vil schoenheit#vil schoenheit x reader#azul ashengrotto#azul ashengrotto x reader#kalim al asim#kalim al asim x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
⛧° sleepy nights - hoo boys
⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧
content: percy jackson, jason grace, leo valdez, frank zhang, luke castellan, charles beckendorf x reader - hcs on how they’d sleep with you
warnings: luke and charlie are 19
a/n: SHE’S BAAAACKK!! i’m finally not sick anymore (very questionable, but i’m definitely better) so i’m back to writing! at least i hope so. you can send your requests, preferably of not so long stuff cause i already have 5 super long drafts lol
⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧
now playing… sweater weather - the neighborhood
Percy Jackson
i honestly believe that he’s an awesome cuddler.
like, i just know that he likes to be the big spoon and wrap his arms around your waist and never EVER let go.
he’d totally lay his head on your shoulder and drool on it.
he plants a lot of tiny little kisses in your neck before you fall asleep.
i like to believe that he snores
but not like super loud snores and they’re not even annoying
its just super cute
and you feel so safe
he’s not super ripped, but he still has abs
so just leaning against them, warm in the night is just so soothing
he sleeps in two positions only, cuddling with you or as a starfish, with legs and arms thrown all over you and the bed
his body is naturally warm
not an uncommon warm, just normal warm
so sleeping with him is always good
whenever you sleep with him, he doesn’t want to get up to school/college the next day
he’s just too comfy to want to let go of you
and, subconsciously, he likes to trace patterns all over the exposed skin of your stomach
overall, a great person to sleep with
Jason Grace
my personal favorite for, uh, unrelated reasons
totally not because he’s literally my dream man no no
but hear me out, you won’t regret it
he’s canonically tall and muscular right
so just imagine resting against his delicious muscular chest and abs-
sorry i trailed off
ANYWAYS
he’s also a cuddler
but he’s kind of stiff in the beginning
like he’s completely touch starved
so he doesn’t really know how to act in situations like this
but the more you’re together the more he feels comfortable to cuddle and squeeze you
he loves to just pull you as close to himself as he can and bury his nose on your hair
because you just smell to good to not do that
he’s also a sweet talker
he just LOVES to whisper cute words in your ear as you’re about to fall asleep
and the first time he told you he loved you was one of these times
you were almost falling asleep in his arms and he just whispered “i love you”
you couldn’t even understand what happened until the next morning
anyways
he is the best person to sleep with
he absolutely loves when you just curl up in a ball beside him while he’s reading
he gets all fuzzy inside
he’s literally melting
he just loves you too much
Leo Valdez
look, don’t get me wrong, i love leo
but i don’t think he’d be the best cuddler in the world
for the simple reason that i think so
if u don’t like it just sush
BUT he absolutely loves to sleep on top of you with his head in your chest
i just know it
this is like super Leo Valdez of him
and you can’t tell me he doesn’t purr when you caress his hair
cause OF COURSE he does that
he’s the best person to sleep with in winter and fall, cause he keeps you warm and happy
but in the summer… not as good, i’ll have to admit
like, he’s too hot
in both senses of the word
so you just get overheated
not that you’re really complaining tho
it’s worth it
oh, and he LOVES to whisper words in spanish in your ear before sleep
if you can’t speak spanish, he’ll say… not so innocent things
our latino king fr fr
and if you can speak spanish he’ll just say how much you smell good or how pretty you are or how much he loves you-
not a cuddler, but a very good person to sleep with anyways
Frank Zhang
he’s tall and muscular
what more can i ask for my personal pillow?
oh, being a lowkey GENTLEMAN with every living being he interacts with
ok maybe that was a little bit out of context
but whatever
back to sleeping with him
if you want a best human pillow, you won’t find it
especially cause charlie died so-
i’m deeply sorry for that. not really.
he loves loves LOVES when you lay on top of him
it’s his favorite position ever
and he also loves when he can hold you
but not literally cuddle
just you laying with him, curled up against his chest but with your face to him, y’know?
i don’t know if it makes much sense
anyways
he likes to braid your hair while you’re falling asleep for you to sleep better
hazel taught him and he absolutely loves to do it in you
in the beginning of the relationship, you usually went to sleep with a dog or a cat
he was too nervous, okay? leave him alone
well, he got over it, thanks to you obviously
but sometimes he still sleeps as a dog
especially if you ask him to do it
he’ll be like “sure, if you want if” but deep down he loves it
it’s just too sooting for him when you curl up against him as a dog and pet his fur
its one of his favorite ways to sleep with you
Luke Castellan
oh, luke
i’ll never admit the uncommonly enormous crush i have on you
he’s just too hot
also i have a thing for blondes (hey jason and annabeth and a lot of other peopleee)
well, enough of me, let’s talk about this walking piece of MEAT
hehehe
he love love loves to sleep cuddled up with you
like, it’s his favorite thing in the world
the only problem (if you consider it a problem. i personally don’t) it’s because he has to sleep holding at least one of your tits
he says it makes him sleep better
technically it does, because his hands are cold and your boobs are warm
but it’s mostly because he really likes ‘em
he’s not gonna tell you that, tho
he loves when you lay on top of him and lets him caress your hair
bros seriously whipped
he’d be damned if you told him you want to sleep alone
he’ll literally become a whiny baby until you surrender
and if you don’t, the next morning he’ll be so grumpy
but that’s obviously until you give him a kiss
if the kiss doesn’t fix, another thing will
cuddles, duh
dirty mind
if you like to wake up early for morning walks, he’ll wake up and watch you get ready
but most likely never join you
Charles Beckendorf
best human pillow EVER
only god knows how much envy i felt from silena for real
he loves cuddling ofc
but it’s not his favorite way of sleeping
he’d rather much more hold you against his chest, arms and legs interlocked
because in that way he can hug, admire and kiss you anytime he wants to
i don’t know if this position makes sense help-
he loves to caress your hair and kiss your head in the process
it’s soothing for him and he knows it’s soothing for you
whenever he comes back from bunker nine super exhausted he just lays down and you hop beside him
and it’s heaven in his eyes
sometimes when things go wrong in a project he's working on he goes straight to your cabin and just stares at you
biggest puppy eyes in the world by the way
he just stares in a way like "please let me sleep here"
and who are you to say no am i right
he LOVES to snuzzle his face in your neck and breath in your scent
he just loves the way you smell
it's just too good to be true
can't take my eyes off of you
sorry i love 10 things i hate about you too much
your smell is one of his favorite things in the whole world
he's just so in love is sickening to anyone who's watching
anyways, cutie pie
a/n pt2: i'm sorry if charlie is short, but im too annoyed right now. i had to rewrite this shit five times because TUMBLR COULDNT SAVE THE FUCKING DRAFT HOLY SHIT- anyways hope u liked
#postcards from leah#pjo hoo toa#pjo#heroes of olympus#heroes of olympus x reader#jason grace#jason grace x reader#percy jackson#percy jackson x reader#leo valdez#leo valdez x reader#frank zhang#frank zhang x reader#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#charles beckendorf#charles beckendorf x reader#percy jackson and the olympians
873 notes
·
View notes
Text
perv masseur!141 boys
(nsfw/18+, perversion/coercion, non-con/dub con, f!reader)
follow up to this post
extending sessions longer than they're supposed to, excusing it as losing track of time, but really they just wanted to spend longer with their hands all over their favourite pretty little client. they just can't step away from you easily, need to keep touching you as long as they can. they'll even offer complimentary sessions if it means getting to touch you.
simon excusing himself mid-session, but he's swiped your panties from your pile of clothes and is using them to jerk himself off in the bathroom. he just got too worked up from rubbing you, especially when you let out those soft sighs that drive him crazy, they go straight to his cock. he has to restrain himself to not cum in the panties as it would be game over, but he still gets sick satisfaction knowing they've been rubbed all over his cock.
johnny has a secret camera set up in his room so he can watch you undress and slip under the towel, and can watch back the sessions when he's missing your touch. if you fall asleep on his table, he'll try pushing the boundaries of where he can touch, and seeing if you react in your slumber. one day he wants to try to see if he can touch your clit while you still lay sleeping. he spills all over himself watching the videos back at night.
price says he has a new technique/service he'd like to try with you, and you trust him so of course you agree. his hands climb up your thighs and don't stop, and you start to squirm and ask what's happening as he starts teasing your folds. he shushes you and assures you it's just part of the service, even as his fingers slip inside to massage your walls. he gives you the best orgasm of your life and makes sure to give you the special service every time you come to see him.
kyle starts taking his shirt off for appointments, saying it helps him from overheating but really he just wants you thinking about his abs while he rubs you. sometimes he'll stand by your torso while he works on your legs, just so he has to lean over and you can feel his smooth skin rub against you. eventually he'll let you feel his erection rub against you too, and he wonders if you even realise what he's doing, or if you just say nothing because you enjoy it too.
#simon ghost riley x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#captain john price x reader#call of duty fanfiction#call of duty x reader#captain price x reader#john price x reader#call of duty fanfic#johnny soap mactavish x reader#soap mactavish x reader#kyle garrick x reader#tf 141 x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
♡ missed signals \ cl16.
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
summary: best friends who have feelings for each other !! scary !! \ word count: 1.1k
warnings: there's like 2 sentences of steam but they literally just make out idk ! if u don't like cheesy men or reader being oblivious ... this will not be 4 u !notes: i wrote this because i cannot sleep so if it makes no sense... blame the lack of sleep not me ! feel free to leave any feedback here !
your fingernails dug into the plam of your hand, eyebrows creasing together as you stared at your best friend, the person that you would sacrifice anything for... hell, the person that you would go to jail for. you coud pinpoint the exact day things began to change, and that was the day that you friendship with charles had begun to turn into something far from platonic.
it was barley a year ago, you and charles had decided to go to a party, and maybe it was a bad idea when charles had been insisting that he needed the time to recouperate... but what better way to recouperate than with some alcohol and some quality time with friends and strangers alike?
♡♡♡
your hands had begun to get cold from the condensation that was forming on the outside of your glass, a pout taking over your glossed lips. "charlie," you drew out the last syllable, standing on your tiptoes so that he could maybe hear you over the music. "i'm bored." you hummed, head turning to the side as you stared him down.
"and what am i supposed to do about that, mon loulou?" he questioned back, raising an amused eyebrow at you as your shoulders shrugged at the taller male. "can we dance, do something please! i'm dying over here!" your dramatics didn't go unnoticed, charles letting out a laugh at your actions.
his hand grabbed yours, pulling you towards the crowded dance floor. your hips swayed easily to the music, the feeling of charles behind you wasn't foreign. it wasn't weird for best friends to be grinding on each other in the middle of a dance floor, right? because for you and charles, it definitely wasn't. the feeling of his hands on your waist caused you to throw your head back, resting it on his shoulder as the two of you danced until your boredom was somewhat satiated.
shortly after, though, you began to feel overheated - the alcohol you had consumed too quickly hitting you like a ton of bricks. "charlie," his nickname came out like a whimper, your cheeks flushing. "i'm hot, can we go outside, please?" you asked the question as you were already moving away from him, eyeing the door that led to a balcony.
you let out a relieved sigh as the cooler air hit your sweaty skin, hands coming up to run through your hair. "i dunno what happened," you laughed, leaning against the railing. "i was fine and then i got hot, and not in a good way..." you joked as charles slotted himself next to you, your head resting on his shoulders. your eyes closed, listening to him speak as you hummed out responses, only half way listening.
one thing led to another, and you found your lips on charles', you hands in his hair and his hands placed firmly on your hips, not letting you move away - not like you wanted to. the feeling of his lips against yours was something you hadn't really thought of before, but... they were something unlike any one else you had ever kissed. they were soft, gentle... and all you knew in that moment was that you wanted to keep kissing the boy you had considered your best friend.
charles pulled away though, a bit too soon for your liking as you let out a whine of protest. "i," he bit his lip, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes. you tried to decipher what emotion he was feeling, but his face was eerily empty. "we should go back inside." he stepped away from you, shoving his hands into his pockets. you stayed quiet, eyes finding the floor as you nodded your head. what the fuck just happened?
as soon as you got inside, you ordered yourself an uber, saying your goodbyes to your (very tipsy) friends who had tried to get you to stay longer, but you made up something about not feeling good, not like it was a lie, though. the feeling of regret, the feeling of unwantedness... it had you feeling sick to your stomach.
♡♡♡
"you wanted me to take that as a sign you had feeling for me?" the quesiton came out before you could stop it, a hand slapping over your mouth as you laughed. "you ran away from me, charles!"
"i was... embarassed, okay?" one of his hands came up and scratched the back of his neck. "i didn't want my first time kissing you to be on the balcony at some club, mon ange. it should've been something more important than that. but you really didn't think anything was different after vegas?"
♡♡♡
what happens in vegas, stays in vegas? or at least that's what they said... and that's what you told yourself as you led charles to your hotel room feeling the urge to congratulate him for making the podium.
his lips were on your neck as soon as the door was shut, your back snugly pushed against the wall. a whimper passed through your lips as his teeth grazed a sensitive spot, your hands pulling at whatever they could find purchase on.
"charlie, i need more..."
"oh, mon ange, you're going to get plenty."
♡♡♡
thinking back on the memory of vegas, you felt heat creep up into your chest and your cheeks. did you really miss these signs of charles trying to make moves on you..? there's no way, right? "what happens in vegas stays in vegas!" you counter, holding your hands up in defense.
"mon ange." he deadpans, a look of are you dumb? crossing his features.
"okay, okay... maybe i should've looked more into it but you know how i am!" you step closer to him, a hand reaching out to graze at his forearm. "but, charlie... if you really wanted to be with me you should've just told me..." you let out a giggle, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "or, i dunno, asked me on a date? or just plain asked me out?" there's a teasing edge to your tone, a smile pulling at your lips.
"i'm not doing that," he scoffs, his hands pulling at your waist to pull you close to him. "you're mine, mon ange... you might not have realized it, but, it's gonna be me and you for however long your willing to deal with me." he leans down to kiss you, but you reach a hand up to stop him.
"that was the cheesiest shit i've ever heard, charles." you make a mock disgusted face before dropping your hand. "but, you can kiss me now, if you'd like.."
#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x you#f1 fluff#charles leclerc fluff#cl16
413 notes
·
View notes
Text
Steve Harrington x fem!reader
requested by @lame0o 18+
“Babe,” Steve tutted, a laugh caught in his throat. He noses at your cheek, your jaw. “You’re not watchin’, c’mon.”
You whined, putting an enormous amount of effort into lifting up your head from where it had fallen back against Steve’s shoulder. You’d been alternating looking at his bedroom ceiling and at the stars behind your eyelids, the spikes of colour that flashed there every time he touched you.
“Steve,” you moaned his name like a question, like a prayer. But you weren’t really sure what you were asking for.
“Baby,” Steve cooed back, in that same tone. Mocking, condescending, a little sweet. “C’mon, you’re doing so well. Look at you, huh? Fucking perfect.”
The praise went straight to your head, to your clit. It made you fuzzy, warm inside your chest, slick between your thighs. You preened, back arching against Steve’s chest and your eyes fluttered open. The bedroom looked a little blurry for a second, but when it gave back into focus you were greeted with the same filthy sight Steve had been making you watch for almost an hour now.
The both of you, propped up against Steve’s pillows at the top of his bed, you between his legs as he spread your own obscenely. Except, you were naked and Steve wasn’t. The mirror he’d propped against his desk showed you everything, every part of you, wet, pink, pretty. Steve had one big hand on a thigh, keeping you open even when you squirmed. The other was busy pulling dirty sounds from you, slick mixing with your moans and sighs, cry baby whispers of his name into his neck as you dug your nails into his denim covered knees.
“You gonna come?” Steve murmured, kissing over your damp cheek as he pressed his middle finger to your clit. He’d been asking you the same question for too long, grinning as he brought you to the edge and then took his hand away. You keened high, nodding, letting your eyes fall shut again. Steve stopped touching you. “Ah, ah, come on, what did I say?”
The breath you let out was shaky but you pouted anyway, twisting a little to tilt your chin up, lips grazing Steve’s jaw and you delighted in it when he didn’t pull away. “That I had to keep my eyes open.”
The boy ran a hand over your thigh, skin soft and too warm. He hummed, letting you curl into him, your hand lifting to reach back into his hair and hold. He kissed your jaw, the spot under your ear, the line of your throat when you arched it for him. “Mhmm. And what happens when you don’t do as you're told?”
“Babe,” you whined again, a sweet, wet noise that only made Steve harder than he already was. “Please, I’m sorry, I’m just—”
“Just what?” Steve whispered. Two hands spread your legs further apart, hooking your ankles over his own so he could keep you that way. “Too needy?”
You didn’t answer, didn’t need to, not with the way your body flushed with heat, the way you hid your face in his neck again. You wriggled against his hold, testing it, wanting to feel the hard length of his cock that was pressed against your bare ass.
“If you can’t behave, baby, get on your knees.”
It shouldn’t have sounded as fucking hot as it did. Any other scenario, any other person who tried to give out orders, who tried to make you feel small, would’ve been met with hell. But Steve’s voice was syrup, sweet and cloying with affection and heat and it made your toes curl. He granted you another kiss on the cheek, even giving in when you made a soft sound and tried to catch his lips with yours.
He kissed you deep, slow, tongue licking over your own in a way that was just fucking dirty. Kissing you like he owned you.
“Knees, honey.”
So you did as you were told, arching your back and popping your ass, smiling into the sheet when Steve made a noise of appreciation, cooing at you in praise. You felt him shift, the soft thump of his shirt hitting the bedroom floor and then the cold buckle of his belt was pressed to your overheated skin as he settled behind you.
“Spread ‘em,” he told you and he didn’t need to ask twice. You kept your shoulders down, cheek to the bed, tits pressed to the mattress and you spread your knees apart, ass high in the air. It was filthy, the way he could see all of you. “Nuhuh, baby, head up, you gotta watch.”
It made you burn, but you obeyed, lifting your chin so you could see yourself in the mirror, bent over real fucking pretty for the boy was kneeling behind you. You caught his eye, the love there, the absolute fucking excitement there. Then Steve grinned and winked.
He raised his hand and when it came back down, the first slap landed directly on your spread cunt, the wet sound making the white hot pleasure that ran through your body skyrocket. Your eyes rolled and you groaned, head dropping back between your shoulder blades. Your pussy was throbbing, your clit desperate to be touched.
But Steve wouldn’t give in that easy, no.
“Count ‘em, honey.”
#steve harrington#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington fic#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fandom#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington x reader smut#steve baby blurb
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
to catch a thief
a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 3.7k
summary: (post-TLT, sea of monsters compliant/spoilers) The one where duty calls at Camp Half-Blood. Again. Your reunion with Luke is nothing you both could have ever expected. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)
a/n: we’re so back trouble!verse ;) sorry for the post birthday hiatus on this, hope you like it! crack banter but err... she got a lil angsty
(posted 3/22/24, semi-edited)
—
When you wake up to the gentle rolling of the sea, it feels like a comforting embrace in a distant dream. Tangled within pristine white sheets, you could smell the salt through the small opening in the bay window–though this was a far cry from a fairytale conjured by your mind. This was your reality.
You wouldn’t call it a nightmare per se, but the circumstances were definitely less than preferred.
This is not the CSS Birmingham. No, that went up in flames. Retracing your steps to what led you to this—cushy cruise line of a prison, you reckon it’s been a few days now since you’ve become a stowaway, or a hostage. You haven’t quite decided yet.
Gods, this is what you get for passing up on that summer research internship.
Dropping off Percy, Annabeth, and Tyson at camp was supposed to be a fun walk down memory lane—until meeting with your dad, finding out Thalia’s tree had been poisoned, watching Chiron get fired, and essentially getting kicked out by the troll of a man who originally got sent to the Fields of Punishment for marketing the taste of human flesh made you remember that nothing at camp is the way it used to be.
Not like before, when you and Luke used to run it.
Your dad told you to go home and wait till you were needed. Home. Driving away from it this time around was harder than you thought it would be. You’d never been the patient type, and to drop everything just because a god told you to? Hilarious, really.
But almost a week later, after rejoining your friends on an undead ship that you let the kids commandeer, your vital mistake was thinking that Clarisse’s quest would be a breeze. Rookie move, since the last one you were on left you as scarred as Luke was. Even thinking of him now, you run your thumb over the rough patch of skin on your palm.
At the very least you hoped Tyson was okay. The last memory you have of the young Cyclops was watching him from your place on the ladder as he stopped the engines from overheating. Maybe it was the ex-head counselor in you, or your increased threshold to pain, but there was no way in hell you were leaving that kid behind.
The sound of voices from outside your door gets louder now, your throat feeling like you’ve been swallowing wads of cotton and a persistent ringing in your ear that hurts just as bad as when you watch Chris Rodriguez walk in with a plate of food. The last one he slid through the door bumps against his boot, still uneaten and he sighs.
“So what, you’re on a hunger strike now? I forgot how difficult you could be.”
You bark out a laugh. Thankfully it’s loud enough that it almost conceals the rumble of your stomach. Gritting your teeth, you mumble, “Wish it could be an idiot strike. I forgot how much of a bitch you are when it comes to your brother, Rodriguez. How long are you going to keep me here? It’s been days.”
Your former friend rolls his eyes at your dramatics like he doesn’t hold the key to your freedom.
“Three since you woke up, actually. Come on, you’ve gotta eat, or I’ll get my ass kicked,” he grumbles. You raise an eyebrow at that, walking towards the window to dodge the uncomfortable tension that fills the room. He plucks an apple slice off your plate.
“He couldn’t splurge on a balcony view? Monsters aside, it’s not like you’ve reached full occupancy.”
“There are more mortals here than you think. To be honest, he was worried you would find a way to overthrow us,” the tanned boy admits, placing the tray on the dresser. It was always a wonder to him how you and Luke were more alike than you think, even now—even when Luke hasn’t come to see you. Talking to you reminded him that you’re both pains in his ass, and Chris was still unsure of who to be more wary of, but he’s been in charge of watching you for the most part.
“Well tell your stupid captain he has no right to be worried about me. I’d much rather try to jump if given the opportunity.”
There’s no response, so you turn to face Chris who’s eating a croissant with a bashful grin.
“Seriously dude?”
“Listen, I’m hoping if I think of the right words to say, he’ll come in and deal with you himself. Opposite sides of a war and you’re still both giving me a headache. Just like old times,” he chuckles, flakes of pastry dotting across his chest plate. Your mouth quirks into a bitter smile. Old times, when Luke would shove you if he couldn’t think of a reply fast enough. When you’d punch him to get your point across if he wasn’t listening. How a kiss could end any waging war between the both of you.
You swallow, turning slowly to watch your reflection in the glass of the windowpane.
Why hasn't he come to see you? The first day, you remember spending out on the sea—treading water with no land in sight, calling out to your friends until your voice went hoarse, but you didn’t cry. You know better than to show weakness now, even when no one’s around. Chris tells you over a gulp of orange juice that you washed up next to the Princess Andromeda on the second day like it was fate. Though fate was never truly that kind to anyone; it felt like it was laughing in your face. Knocked out cold for two days after, and ignoring all of Chris’s attempts to keep you alive in the days that followed, you’ve been in this room ever since. You barely notice Chris’s departure.
Entering the ensuite bathroom, you splash your face and sip on water from the tap before stopping at the doorway. A shadow flits at the seam near your feet, someone standing just out of sight when you peer through the peephole.
But you know Luke’s there. Sons of Hermes have almost undetectable footsteps, however, Luke walking in and out of your life for as long as he has—there’s no inconceivable way to not know him. Perhaps you couldn’t hear the sound of his feet, but there’s a way the wind shifts your hair, your heart slowing in ease at his presence, and the scent of him reminiscent of skin kissed with the peel of an orange. The skin you used to kiss and greet and know like your own.
The shadow fades just as your hand reaches out towards it, leaving like he always does. Always out of reach.
Even as the Princess Andromeda continues to set sail upon the calm waters of the Atlantic Coast, you look out to the unending horizon and still feel like you’re drowning.
—
“Status report, soldier?”
Chris rolls his eyes, popping the last piece of apple into his mouth as he strolls into the command deck. The both of you had a flair for the dramatic—it serves as his reminder of why you two worked so well. Luke is sitting in his captain’s seat, watching the waves crash against the hull as the sun begins to set on the skyline.
“She’s angry. Anyone would be if they were locked up like that.”
“Well, yeah, but tell me something I don’t know. Something useful, Rodriguez,” Luke says, flicking his pocket knife closed. It’s still sticky with the juice of the fruit, catching onto his finger. He hisses, but then the sound of loud footsteps boom down the corridor, along with the sound of maniacal laughter as the door slams open. The two sons of Hermes look at each other curiously, knowing it all too well.
“You know, the next time you send a 9-year-old to stand guard, remember to not make it the one we used to throw into the lake,” you drawl, sauntering into the bridge and looking around until your eyes land on your ex, “and also remember that you taught me how to pick locks.”
Ethan Nakamura heaves behind you, hands on his knees before he stands to attention and salutes his captain.
“Sir, I was just following orders… and I’m not 9 anymore!” he snaps, glaring at you. Laughing at the absurdity of the situation makes it easier to get through. You thought being surrounded by the undead on the CSS Birmingham was scary enough, but standing in a room with ghosts from your past was somehow worse. Honestly, you learned a lot more by being in that room than if you were to jump ship like you wanted to.
“I taught you how to tie your shoes, Ethan. You’re always gonna be a little kid to me,” you scoff, brushing him aside and walking towards Luke, “your new digs are fancy, by the way. I could tell by all the teenage soldiers chasing me through the tourists.”
He stands up and meets you head to head, as the both of you inspect each other closely.
It’s been a long year without you.
You look thinner. You’ve lost the softness in your cheeks and your eyes are tired. He wonders what you chose to major in, who your roommates are, if you still think of him with a smile on your face. You’re still beautiful.
“You know me, I like to travel in style,” Luke says offhandedly, a half smile on his face. For someone leading a war against the gods, he’s calm in your presence.
“Back when I knew you, we traveled in a tin can that we also called a car.”
His clothes are nicer than anything you’ve ever seen him in. He looks really fucking good, for someone on the run. It’s almost frustrating to see how brawny he’s gotten, muscles rippling as he crosses his arms. You suppose he has nothing to do now but practice and spar (that or he’s definitely flexing for you). Pulling at the drawstring of the joggers you wear, you realize his initials are embroidered on the pocket. Pretentious fuck. Did he change you once you got on board?
Chris and Ethan suddenly get the feeling that they’re interrupting something—a reunion in a blockbuster romantic movie they’ve seen the mortals play out on the ship deck’s projector on Friday nights. The two of you stand there arguing like a married couple despite the fact you are no longer lovers and the bickering continues even when more of Kronos’ army files in. You laugh again at the sight of children walking in—some strangers, others you’ve sung to sleep in cabin 11, all still children, even back from the time before when laughter didn’t have to have a reason, light and airy in the summer sun.
“You’re sick, you know that? Did you just plan to let me rot in that room until it was all over? You didn’t even talk to m—”
“Classic, you’re more mad that I didn’t talk to you over the fact that you’re a prisoner,” he seethes, but you don’t stand down—not now or ever.
“Prisoner? I walked out and none of your Boy Scouts could do anything about it!”
His face is turning red now, jaw tightening at the angst but deep down he misses this—the banter, the thin line between hate and love you both tread on. You may be a damsel. But you were not in distress. To further prove your point, you swing an arm toward one of the boys in black (their uniforms were annoyingly corny), and they all take a step back toward the wall. Your eyebrows furrow, “What type of prison has guards terrified of the prisoner?”
He shrugs, “It was only time before you came and found me. I even gave you a bay window.”
That was not the right thing to say.
“I’ll fucking kill yo—”
“Sir? So do we try and detain her, or….” one of the demigods you don’t know interjects, and Chris Rodriguez sucks at his teeth before he responds.
“Alright. We’ve seen enough of the show. Everyone file out and let Castellan reunite with his girlfriend.”
“GIRLFRIEND?”
“Girlfriend…”
The both of you look at each other, one in anger, the other in sheepishness now that you’re alone. It's even funnier that neither of you deny it.
“You left me there in that room, and by the sight of things around here you prefer being in the company of monsters than being with me, so by the gods, what do you want, Castellan?”
You fall into the captain’s chair exasperatedly, watching him watch you.
“I’m giving you a choice,” he says simply. “You can stay here with me, or you can go.”
“A choice? You captured me to tell me I have a choice,” you spit, as if that was the stupidest thing he could say. “You didn’t give me a choice when you left me.”
“It was a matter of the circumstances. And I didn't capture you—are you mad that I betrayed everyone or not, because I can’t really read you right now, trouble…”
Your eye twitches and your hands are in fists across your lap. Another wrong thing to say.
“Keeping me here until I get the nerve to talk to you is not a choice, asshole. Do you think you could just hide me away until the bad part’s over? To save me until everything's good enough for you?” Your eyes catch onto the droplets of blood that fall onto the hardwood flooring near your feet. His hand is bleeding, and like it’s nothing of the sort you reach out for it.
Luke thinks that if he lets you your hand will still perfectly fit in his, so after a moment, he pulls his hand away out of your reach. Pulling a handkerchief out of your pocket (also embroidered with his initials—note to self, never let a son of Hermes have money), you stand to wrap it around his hand to stop the bleeding. You pretend not to notice his heartbeat increase through the throbbing of the cloth.
“Don’t let my actions make you believe that what we had wasn’t good, trouble.”
“Stop calling me that. Why are they all scared of me? Why won’t you let me touch you?” you whisper, putting pressure on his finger until the blood clots. It doesn’t even hurt, to tell you the truth. Not touching you when you’re right here in front of him is a pain he can’t find the words to describe. But what he’ll never understand is that he’s right. You two were good together. You’d have him through the bad too, if only he let you.
“Because you might think you can fix me.” Or worse, you might change his mind. You don't have to say you love him for him to know it. A part of him wishes he didn’t have to do all of this to prove to you he feels the same.
“Would you have left with me?” he mutters. A wistful look cuts through your anger and he knows he’s finally said something right. His pocket knife is on the control board and your hands drop to your side again when you realize that he may have forgotten to tell his battalion of who you are to him, but he still remembers how you like your apples cut. The silence is loud, even with the twinge that comes with the pain in your eardrum as you sway a little on your feet. Your body still knows it can relax with him, knees buckling with a false sense of security despite your willpower.
“I would've made it so that there was no other option for you but to want to stay.”
A soldier bursts through the door and apologizes for the intrusion, but the both of you have found out all you need to know. The moment is over and Percy Jackson has been captured by the army in his efforts of trying to save the day. There’s a look shared between the two of you that wonders if this will become a trend.
—
Licking your lips as your…Luke guides you out onto the main deck with your hands behind your back, you can taste the salt in your air. It’s almost as evident as the surprise in your friends’ faces when they see you alive. This time, they don’t question your allegiance but in the chaos that ensues, for a moment, you do.
For a moment, you wonder what would change if you decided to stay with him. Would the sky fall under your feet? Would the gods kneel like Luke said they would? Looking at him in your periphery, you realize it’s not what the both of you want, even if it’s the easier way out—to be together despite it all.
The two of you against the world instead of the world against the both of you.
But he won't even touch you—he’s holding you over the sleeves of your shirt, too scared of what you’ve become in his absence. You suppose you’re scared of what he’s become too.
The realization hits that you could defect from your friends, family, and home. You could undo everything that you and your friends have worked towards. But nothing he can say will change the fact that he didn’t choose you.
Luke was right, then.
You did have a choice, one that he still forces you to make as you nod at Percy to flip his last drachma into the open water, opening a direct line of communication to your father to catch the thief—of both lightning and the beat of your heart, in the act.
You realize that if the gods were the least bit grateful that you’ve kept their kids alive for the past half-decade, perhaps fate would be on your side and Luke would still be yours. But life has a funny way of working itself out when Luke admits to the open air of another crime to tack onto his list.
“Kronos was right. I should’ve killed you, Percy.”
The son of Poseidon goads Luke into another duel and you survey your surroundings for a way out. Annabeth burns holes into the side of your head and it gets you thinking, moving faster than you have in days as you walk towards her and Grover. At the raise of your hand, the demigods holding onto the pair drop to the deck, incapacitated with illusions of madness they will never comprehend. The more of them that surround you drop like flies as Luke’s eyes flicker between you and the boy he has at swordpoint.
You’ve gotten stronger in his absence—you never needed to touch him to use your powers after all. Just waiting for the right moment to strike, attacking when Luke finally let his guard down for you. He cracks his neck, knowing you’ve made your choice, so he makes his.
“Get them.”
The monster scrambles across the deck but it approaches you first, clawing at the wood and barely missing your feet as you scream for help, defenseless without a sword and you hear Luke yell your name in alarm before a punching glove-tipped arrow sends it hurtling overboard.
Your eyes lock with his again as you disembark with the Party Ponies, you with your crew as he corrals the mess you made of his. It has to be the salt air that makes your eyes seem a little misty.
Your fates have always been tied.
You protect your home, and he does what he can to protect you. Luke looks over your form like he’s checking if you’re okay, even from a distance— and it makes you wonder if this is how it's supposed to be. Someone leaving, and the both of you apart.
It’s weird to be the one leaving this time, but it isn't as easy as Luke makes it seem each time he does it. You avert your eyes once you see him put his hand in his pocket, him finding what you snuck in on the way to the deck. Luke pulls out a leather bracelet with a black camp bead, the one he missed in the year he’s been gone. He rolls the bead between his fingers, the thing you last touched before leaving him, an emblem of his archnemesis and the summer that changed everything—the consequences of his actions ripping you away from him. When he slides it on his wrist, it lightly clinks against the hilt of his sword, the lone clay bead a force of its own against Backbiter's reverberating power. He feels nostalgia for what could have been crawling through him—though Luke supposes he’s always been too vulnerable when it comes to you.
Is this what you’ve been feeling every time he walks away?
It starts to rain after you leave. Luke watches his crew take cover from the downpour, running in all different directions to hide away from the storm that ravages the Princess Andromeda.
But he stands still, looking up at the sky and hating it for how openly it’s able to cry. Luke is far away from home again—from you and it makes him wonder how much longer he’ll have to be away from you when being with you is what he truly wants.
The mission continues and the ship keeps pushing forward even as the rain washes over him, soaking through his armor and straight to the bone. Raindrops pelt through every crevice, though this onslaught is much kinder, more gentle, even when it’s angry. He closes his eyes and lets it touch his skin.
For a moment, it feels like you.
—
A hand penetrates the tide searching for yours, gripping onto your unconscious one. He’s spent hours ripping holes through time to try to find you, an advantage given to him in a dream by the Titan. The agreement, what keeps him from not running back to you is that you live—and as Luke pulls you out of the ocean waterlogged and turning blue, he wonders if it’s all a farce.
Losing you isn’t worth the wrath of the gods if you’re lifeless in his arms like this.
He shouts your name, pumping your chest with his fists and breathing life back into your lips until you cough out saltwater, head lolling against his knee. Luke’s fingers stroke your hair, touching you for the first time in a year. As life slowly brings the color back into your cheeks he silently thanks Hestia for keeping your flame alight. His soldiers call out to him from the deck, and he steels his resolve as he rows the lifeboat back to the ship. Still, Luke has to uphold his side of the agreement.
He wonders if you’d stay. Even if he knows the answer, Luke wonders if you would ever change it for him.
—
And they tell me you are evil and I answer: Yes, I know. –Patricia Smith
½ luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri
#luke castellan x reader#trouble!verse#percy jackon and the olympians#luke castellan x dionysus!reader#pjo x reader
403 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hiiiii, you asked for small Hazbin requests so c: Maybe fluff with Vox and reader when reader's had a bad day? Or Lucifer <3 Either would be fantastic!!
ofc ofc!!! my two fav boys <3
(so happy i’m getting hazbin requests rn)
when you have a bad day (vox & lucifer)
headcanons & a lil drabble!
not proofread!
—
vox
ᯤ you come dragging your feet into his lil office area and he wraps up whatever broadcast he’s doing as quick as he can!!
ᯤ when he’s successfully logged off he strides over to you, holding you as you lean into his embrace.
ᯤ usually used to calming down val, he had to learn to comfort instead of preventing a murder spree.
ᯤ he makes sure he has no other broadcasts for the day (you’re really special if he cancels any he does have!!) before bringing you to his room and just laying with you, stroking through your hair as he urges you to tell him what’s upset you
ᯤ and whatever it is, he’ll deal with it.
“doll, i just want to know what happened today,” he says, his voice taking on a comforting tone. you’re curled into his chest on his large bed. your eyes are irritated from crying about all the stress of the day. vox just wants to take care of you!
“tell me what happened, i can take care of all of it,” he says, a light threatening tone to whoever dared mess with his love.
“jus’ wanna stay with you, vox..” you mutter out. you can hear the fans in his tv head start going into overdrive to cool down his overheating head.
“okay..” he mumbles as he settles in and holds you closer to him as you melt into his embrace.
he’ll get them eventually.
lucifer
⛧ you come into his office as he’s working on one of his new rubber ducks and you just crawl into his lap.
⛧ he puts down the duck he was working on and his arms wrap around you by habit.
⛧ his look of worry is something so sweet it almost makes you tear up again, in fact you just might as his sweet voice asks you what happened.
⛧ if you feel like talking about it, he listens with such intent, his wings coming out to wrap around you.
⛧ if you don’t, he just sits in silence with you, rubbing your back and running his hands through your hair.
⛧ he teleports you two to his room. you cuddle up to him, his wings wrapping around you once again.
⛧ he just wants you to be happy, that’s all he wants in this life (and of course for charlie to be happy as well!)
“sweetheart..” he mumbles softly, his hands raking through your hair. he leaves kisses along your hairline as you nuzzle into his neck.
“what can i do?” he asks, worry lacing his tone at your puffy eyes. he hates that you were upset today and didn’t come to him sooner!
“just.. wanna stay here with you luci..” you say, your voice coarse.
“i can do that, my dear.” he smiles down at you, his heart fluttering at the tired smile you gave him. he lets his golden dreams stream from his hand as you watch, a mystical look in your eyes as you sigh softly.
he’s just happy he can bring you some comfort after your day.
end!
—
lucifer my man my man my man <3
#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel#hazbin vox#✩ // angel chats#lucifer morningstar headcanon#lucifer morningstar imagine#lucifer morningstar#lucifer morningstar x reader#vox x reader#vox
496 notes
·
View notes
Note
If you ever take in requests, can you make a fic or series prompt base on Twisted Wonderland about Yuu/y/n was able to escape her yandere captor ( Leona, Vil, Malleus, Idia, Riddle, Azul, or Jamil). 5 years later the yandere 'boyfriend' was in the library when he sees Yuu/y/n holding a little boy...that looks like him but with Yuu/y/n's eyes.
I'll do three for now
🖤🖤🖤
Escaped for the Little One w/ Fem Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland
You somehow escaped through your portal. Back in your world and its been years since then. But now you have to raise your little one in a world different from Twisted Wonderland. Too bad your captor’s back and they’re surprised to see a resemblance to the little one on your hip:
Riddle Rosehearts
“How could this–no way.”
He almost loses it at the idea of it
You ran away and even had a kid!?
But its his
The red curls prove it
He takes his time
He has to learn the world he’s in before he makes his appearance
But he will when he knows the rules
And when he does its over for you for this life without him
He is going to be the father and husband he would have been
Whether you didn’t follow the rules or just ungrateful he’d fix that
Azul Ashengrotto
“A little one! W-what!? I can’t believe it! I mean we did–Eeek I can’t believe it!”
He’s too excited at first
Just overheating at the way how much of a perfect match you are
How sexy you look as a mother
And how cute your kid looks
Then its disappointment
Because he couldn’t keep track of you well enough he missed a pregnant you
He let you escape
Its really all his fault you were all alone in this world
He’d have to take you back
Or build an empire as big as the one back home
He can be flexible
After all you are his pearl
Jamil Viper
“That–that actually makes sense.”
He thinks back to your behavior
The way you ate the way you slept
How could he have not known
But that doesn’t matter anymore
Its so easy to finesse randos in a world without magic
You can run all you like but you’re his no matter what world you’re in
A kid makes this even better
#yandere twst x reader#yandere twst#yandere twisted wonderland#yanderexrea#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yandere x you#yandere#yanderes#yandere jamil x reader#yandere jamil viper#yandere jamil#yandere azul ashengrotto#yandere azul x reader#yandere azul ashengrotto x reader#yandere azul twst#yandere azul#yandere riddle rosehearts#yandere riddle roseheart x reader#yandere riddle x reader
666 notes
·
View notes
Text
One and a Half Men + One
(Part 2 of One and a Half Men !!) Thank you to everyone who has commented, liked, and reblogged! It really makes my day 💕💕
You needed him. Bad. And it freaked the shit out of you...
Hiding out in your apartment didn't seem like such a bad idea. You missed seeing little Megumi and his drop-dead gorgeous father every morning, but you could persevere.
It was radio silence for an entire week. You told yourself you were just protecting your peace. You had too much going on to be falling for anyone, especially a father.
You were on track, focusing on your studies. One night, while you were finishing up a research paper, you heard three soft knocks on your door. So soft you almost thought you hallucinated them. Before you could even walk to your door, you heard fumbling of the knob, frantic and fighting.
"Hello? Y/n? Home?" Muffled by the thin wood between you, Megumi's voice wrung through your apartment, springing you into action.
You run to open the door, Megumi's little face greeting you, scrunched up in worry, little fists grabbing at his hair.
"Dada's sick. Really scared y/n, Dada really sick." Megumi points to his left, guiding your eyes to his apartment. You pick him up, shutting your door behind you and venturing towards the Fushiguro's apartment.
Entering the apartment, you call out for the little boy's dad, worry shining through your tone. You stand at the entrance, a groan answering you.
"On the couch, dada's on the couch." Megumi twists in your arms like a fish out of water as a signal to let him go, walking towards his daddy once he finds his footing.
Toji's entire body smothers the couch as he lays there in nothing but boxers, skin flushed, and sweaty. His eyes open, displaying a hollowed out, tired expression, making you gasp.
"Fuck. Gumi, bud you didn't have to bring y/n over. God, didn't even know you left the damn apartment." Toji felt guilty all over. He moved to sit up, stopping himself with hearty coughs.
"She take good care of you, dada. Promise. She made me happy again. Y/n help you too... right y/n?" Megumi looked over at your out of place state, boba eyes full of appreciation, his small hands resting on his dad's overheated torso.
"Um yeah, yeah, I can help out. Of course... Gumi, why don't you go to your room, baby?" You walk over to Toji's spread out form pushing back his sweaty hair to feel his forehead.
"Nuh uh. Stay with you. Make sure Dada okay." Determination in his voice, Megumi clung to you, copying the way you looked down at his father. Megumi nudges his way back into your arms, clasping his tiny hands in his hair as you hold onto him.
"Okay, bub. Daddy's gonna be alright. " You sigh deeply as you walk over to their sink, asking Gumi where they keep the glasses and washcloths.
Toji can't help himself, woozy headspace causing him to blush at your way of referring to him, melting deeper into the couch at your maternal instincts towards not only his son but him as well.
You return, glass of chilled water in hand, cool washcloth in the other, and little boy on your hip. Crouching down, you place the cup on a low coffee table, readjust Megumi, and shift yourself towards a flushing, smirking Toji.
"What's so funny?" You smile, resting your head on Megumi's to hold him in place as you move close to Toji, placing the washcloth on his chest.
"Heh, you come here often, pretty mama?" He coughs out a laugh as you pat the cloth across his chest, trying his best not to pop a boner over your innocent touches and pretty smiley eyes gazing up at him.
Those same pretty eyes widen as your cheeks heat up, playing it off with a laugh and an eye roll.
Megumi giggles.
"Dada called you Mama too, Mama! I told you. See dada, she takes good care." Megumi pokes your cheek before placing a gentle kiss on it.
"You two are absolutely unbelievable." You shake your head, entire body warm at the affection and attention.
"You're very right, Gumi. Very, very right." Toji mumbles to himself as you move to his forehead, folding the cloth in half to cling to the sweaty skin.
"There we go. Can I get you anything else, Toji?" You stand up, pulling Megumi with you.
"A kiss."
"Kiss!!" Megumi echoes, covering his mouth with two tiny hands to hide a big smile.
"Oh my goodness." You smile, shaking your head, putting Megumi down.
"Give your daddy a kiss, Gumi." You pat his back, inching him towards the dopey man. Megumi kisses his dad's cheek the same way he kissed yours.
"Your turn, y/n!" Megumi sung out, grabbing your hand.
"No, no, Gumi, let's get you to bed. It's getting reeeaaalllyyy late!" You quickly respond, scooping up the pouting kid, having him point to where his room is.
"Mama kiss dada..." Megumi huffs as you tuck him into bed and kiss his forehead.
"No buddy... I'm not Mama, okay? I'm y/n." You explain, rubbing his head soothingly.
"Ughhhhh, noooo!!" Megumi pouts, ruffling his sheets around, showing the true toddler side of him that is sometimes forgotten.
"Go to sleep, okay baby? I will check on you and your dada tomorrow." You smile as he settles down, rubbing his hands over his head, closing his eyes.
"Promise?"
"Promise."
...
Finally, Megumi dozes off after at least an hour of petting his head and back. You exit his room quietly, shutting the door. Turning your head, you see Toji's stature sitting up on the couch, much more lively than when you first arrived.
"How ya feeling, big guy?" You smile, glancing at the half empty glass of water on the table as Toji chuckles.
"Fuck, much better. I'm really sorry about all this, sweets. I was fucking delirious. Got home from work and could barely stand, felt awful. I didn't tell the little rascal to go bother you, though. He did that on his own... must've known you were good for the soul. Smart kid." Toji apologizes with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.
"Yeah, smart kid, alright." You snort, shaking your head as you cross your arms in slight awkwardness. Toji gestures towards an armchair near the couch, inviting you to sit.
"But seriously, thanks a lot. You really didn't have to come over and take such good care of us. He really adores you, ya know..."
You warm up as Toji's eyes set on yours.
"Aw, well, the feeling is very mutual. You've got a lovely little boy, Toji."
Toji hums in response, slurping up the rest of the water in his sweating cup.
Silence overtakes the room as you momentarily shut your eyes, quietly reveling in the sudden peacefulness of the dim, lackluster apartment.
"You got a boyfriend?" You hear Toji question out of the blue, making your eyes fling open as you sit up a little straighter.
"Why you askin'?" You tease, confidence surging through your body. You never felt all too flustered by Toji's smooth talking or slightly invasive questions, easily surveying his game, understanding how he operates. You had quite a bit of your own moxie.
"Maybe I'm interested." Toji smirks back. Mirroring you, he folds his arms across his chest.
"Only maybe?"
...
Dating with a four year old is not always the easiest. Especially not when his daddy is all dressed up, wearing special cologne and his mommy (as he insisted on calling you, Toji not opposed to it at all) is in a long satin dress and high heels, not her usual casual wear.
"But I don't want you to goooooo! Stay!!" Megumi cried to you as he was faced with the kind old lady from apartment seventy-five, who was entrusted with watching him while his lovebird parents get a night to themselves.
You crouch down, balancing on your toes as you hold the toddler's torso, kissing his cheek.
"We won't be long, honey... maybe we'll be back before bedtime, right, Daddy?" You peer over at Toji, who was busy showing poor old Gertrude how to work the oven for Megumi's chicken tenders.
"Mama's right... and if not, you'll just see us in the morning anyways!.. C'mon, Megs, aren't ya sick of us?" Toji makes his way over to you, smoothing the hair on his little boy's head as he hugs his dad's legs, head bumping into the small, square-shaped, velvet box hidden in his dress pants' pocket.
"Alright, bubs, we really gotta get going, we'll miss our reservation." Toji lifts Megumi up, kissing both of his cheeks before handing him to you, prompting you to do the same.
Megumi huffs once you put him down, waving with attitude as you grab your coat, and Toji opens the door for you.
"Ugh. Bye mama, bye dada. Love yous." He yells as Gertrude slowly pauses in sorting out the little boy's frozen dinner on an oven tray, turning her achy body to wave bye-bye to the soon to be engaged couple.
"Bye Megumi, love you!"
Hope you enjoyed! Xoxo
My tag-list babies! 🥰
@fushipurro , @justbelljust , and @carylinflors 💕💕
#fem reader#jjk x reader#size difference#age difference#jjk#jjk toji#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji smut#toji zenin#toji headcanons#toji x you#jujustu kaisen
489 notes
·
View notes
Text
festival love || kim hongjoong
summary: you wait patiently for your soulmate to finish his practice rehearsal for the famous festival so you can go spend the day together before his performance. Things don't necessarily go as planned but everything turns out alright in the end.
pairing: kim hongjoong x disabled reader
genre: fluff, soulmate, soulmate au, soulbonds,
warnings: reader almost faints, POTS reader, disabled reader, not much
word count: 1.4k
masterlist
-----------------------------
You were beyond excited to be with the boys at Coachella. It was your first time at the festival, as well as theirs. Ateez would be performing at the Sahara stage, which is such a cool and amazing opportunity for them.
You were currently walking around the festival, waiting for Hongjoong to be done rehearsing so you could go explore the city a little bit. You had found on twitter with Wooyoung that there were some pop-ups and fan made events for the boys and you wanted to drag along your soulmate to see them while he had some free time.
You and Hongjoong hadn’t really gotten to enjoy a lot of time to yourselves since he has been so busy with rehearsing and practicing for the Coachella stage and then for their tour they’ve yet to announce.
You had been wandering around for a little over an hour and knew that you should be making your way back to the stage, but you kept getting stopped by atiny who recognized you. It was always fun getting to know your fellow atiny and talking to them about the boys. However sometimes you felt a little overstimulated. You could tell the heat was getting to you and your heart rate was just continuing to skyrocket.
You tried to make it back to the stage as quick as you could but eventually you had to try and find somewhere to sit so you could rest for a few. You didn’t want to do that though, not when you could see the stage so close. You pushed yourself and made it to the stage, showing security your pass so you could get through.
Once you made it through, you sat down right on the steps to the stage, laying your head back. You could hear footsteps from the stage coming closer and soon enough the boys’ manager is in your line of sight.
“Are you okay? Do you need water? How about salt?” Their manager was well aware, as were the rest of the team, about your heart condition. And even though you felt a little embarrassed about your condition, you knew that if you lied and said you were okay, that you would hear it from Hongjoong later.
“I think I just need some water for now.” Just from sitting down your heartrate was going down and you didn’t feel the palpitations in your head anymore.
The manager went and grabbed Hongjoong’s water bottle for you, catching the attention of your soulmate. You ignored his looks though, knowing he needed to finish this last rehearsal before tonight. It was your own fault for not preparing for the heat better.
You could feel the stares from the boys as they finished up their rehearsal. They were all worried, knowing how bad the heat exasperates your symptoms, and how worried their captain was getting.
Once they were done, Hongjoong was already making his way towards you, worry written clearly across his face as he comes and sits down with you, pulling you into his lap.
“Are you okay, baby? What happened?” He asks, tilting your chin so you were facing him.
“I’m fine Joong. I just got a little overheated, I promise.” You try to reassure your soulmate but he sees right through it. You lean forward, kissing him softly, trying to show him that you were okay now.
“I promise. See, look.” You show him your watch, clearly indicating your heartrate as normal. It does work a little in reassuring him, his shoulders visibly relaxing at your words.
“Okay, but next time, take one of the team with you, and a water bottle, and one of your mini fans please.” He practically commands you, but you know it’s out of love and worry for you.
“Now, what plans did you conspire with Wooyoung earlier, hmm?” Hongjoong narrows his eyes at you as a grin grows on your lips.
He had to admit, you and Wooyoung were a duo he was scared of. You two could be mischievous and you come up with the craziest schemes together. Like the time you both pranked him and put mint chocolate chip ice cream in the middle of the cake you surprised him with one day.
“Nothing, we just found a lot of pop-ups and little events for the group that I thought it would be fun to go to. Plus, I haven’t had In-N-Out in soooo long.” You told him the truth, despite the obvious suspicion lacing his expression. You knew he would go along with it anyways though, for he would do anything for you.
Your words brought him back to when he first found you, ironically in line while at the famous burger joint when he was last in the states for their tour. He turned around and bumped into you, your soulmarks burning and turning gold at the physical touch.
You spent the rest of the day and night getting to know your new soulmate and his group members while trying not to absolutely freak out at meeting your favorite kpop group.
“Okay, baby. Let’s go back to the hotel and wash up and then we can go out.” He picks you up and puts you down next to him so he could help you stand up slowly, not wanting to chance your heartrate skyrocketing again or even fainting.
He holds your hand as you walk behind the stage and out to where the vans were, getting in with Seonghwa, Yeosang, and Jongho. They all asked how you were and made sure you were all okay before changing the topic. They all knew about your condition and knew how embarrassed you could get over it.
Once you returned to the hotel, you were both in and out within an hour, making sure you had everything you needed to have a comfortable rest of the day before you needed to be back to the festival later tonight. You also packed extra hydration packets and your trusty reusable water bottle filled with ice.
While you were going to go to some of the fan events nearby, you were heavily advised by the security team and the boys’ manager not to go. It was a little disappointing, but you knew it was a safety concern.
So instead, Hongjoong had one of the security team take you both to In-N-Out and then to a park close to the hotel. Your little picnic in the park was really sweet and it was a much needed time together as soulmates during such a busy time for the boys.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t go to those fan events, baby.” Hongjoong told you after he tried to feed you a fry smothered in ketchup, effectively getting some on your cheek and making you laugh.
“It’s okay. Sometimes I forget that you are so famous. To me, your just Hongjoong who likes to cuddle and watch reality television with me. You’re my soulmate and sometimes I do have to step back and remember who you are to the world.” You confide in Hongjoong, knowing it’s better to get things out than to hold them in, especially when he knows you so well.
“I will always be your Hongjoong that loves to hold you in my arms and take care of you. Maybe next time, we let our manager know and we can plan a visit with security to one of those events.” Hongjoong moves forward to hold your hand in his, a soft gesture that he’s done since you met when he wants to feel you close.
You love the way he thinks, trying to do whatever he can so you still feel important to him despite his job and his schedule. He knows sometimes it gets hard trying to juggle everything, but he will always be there to remind you that you are the most important thing to him, and how you feel is his number one thought.
“I love you, baby.”
“I love you too, Joong.” He leans in and kisses you softly, so sweetly that your lips tingle as he pulls away, a loopy smile on your lips, matching the one on his.
“Now,” He begins to clean up the trash form your late lunch. “Let’s get back to the hotel so we can go to our stage!” He exclaims in excitement, causing you to laugh at how giddy he gets every time he has to perform.
You love it and you love him.
#kim hongjoong#hongjoong imagines#ateez hongjoong#hongjoong x reader#hongjoong#ateez x reader#ateez x disabled reader#ateez hongjoong x reader#hongjoong x disabled reader#bluemari23#fluff#ateez headcanons#ateez imagines
268 notes
·
View notes
Note
for prompt tag!
28. i'm just getting comfy (would love if this was established relationship/domestic fluff.. perhaps one of them is sick in this... idk)
but also take your time 🫡🫂
in which steve is sick but that won't stop soft boys hours
When Eddie hears the sound of fuzzy sock-clad feet dragging over the hardwood floor, accompanied by a sniffle or two, he drops the book he's reading onto his chest, exasperated by his restless boyfriend who refuses to stay in bed after Eddie tucked him in — again! Ready to give him A Look and tell him to get back to bed, because whatever it is he needs, Eddie can and will get it for him, Just go back to bed, Stevie.
But whatever words were on the tip of his tongue even just a second ago have disappeared at seeing Steve – the same way that they always used to when they've only been dating for a few months. Instead of giving him anything remotely like A Look, Eddie grins, and instead of exasperated, all he feels is immeasurably fond. Endeared. Fucking enamoured.
Because Steve, in all his pale, sniffly-nosed glory, is standing in the doorway to the living room, blinking against the sunlight streaming in through the windows, painting everything golden and bringing colour back to him, too. But it's not the way the light catches on his skin that makes Eddie fall in love all over again in what Robin would describe the most pathetic way possible, no.
The thing that makes Eddie want to propose on the spot, in sickness and in health, is the fact that Steve is wearing Eddie's woollen hat. The one Joyce knitted for him with thick, soft, dark brown wool a few Christmases ago, with two distinctive bat ears sticking up.
God, where did Steve even unbury that?
And what business does he have looking so absolutely fucking adorable wearing it? His glasses are askew, the hair sticking out from beneath the hat is tousled and greasy, and the bags under his eyes are stark against his sickly pale skin that makes his nose shine red.
Eddie is about to die with how much he loves him. It’s like a scream lodged in his throat that he cannot let out, an urge that grows evermore to let the whole world know, to not rest until the last person knew about his endless, endless, endless love for this angel of a man.
In sickness and in health. It is there, residing in the back of his head, and he almost says it out loud — but Stevie would kill him if Eddie proposed to him because of a stupid woollen hat with bat ears (Sorry, Robbie).
“Baby,” he breathes instead, miraculously keeping a hold of his heart in this wave of affection that overcame him so suddenly. “You good? Everything okay?”
“Mhmm,” Steve hums, though it’s more of a growl with how rough his voice is. He wipes at his face, almost nudging his glasses off his nose, and Eddie can’t keep in the chuckle that bubbles out of him.
He’s about to get up off the couch and wrap the angel with bat ears in his arms, just because he can, but then Steve is already approaching him, the blanket thrown around his shoulders dragging on the floor just as much as his feet. There is something so young about Steve when he’s sick, something so vulnerable and raw that makes Eddie want to latch onto him and never let go. Protect him from the evil germs and the headaches they bring. It’s dumb. Stupid, really.
Eddie doesn’t even try to fight it as he sits up and holds out his arms for Steve to fall into. He brushes kiss after kiss to his overheated skin as Steve cuddles into him, burying his face in Eddie’s neck and his hands underneath his shirt.
They hum in unison, finding a sound for serenity.
“That’s my hat,” Eddie says after a while, breathing in his sick angel and feeling him melt in his arms.
“Our hat,” Steve mumbles into his skin. "My turn to be Batman."
Eddie laughs, wrapping his arms tighter around him, giving in to the urge to hold, the urge to never let go. “You’re ridiculous, d’you know that?”
“I did know that,” Steve says, and he somehow manages so sound proud of that.
“Good, just making sure,” Eddie remarks, hiding his own grin in Steve’s cheek, nosing along his temple and the edge of the hat. After a moment of silence that they spend just holding onto each other, he murmurs, “You need anything?”
Steve shakes his head, winding his arms tighter around Eddie’s shoulders and leans into him; it takes him a moment to catch up with Steve, but eventually he lets himself fall backwards so they’re lying flat on the couch.
“What are you doing, hm?” he asks, reaching for the blanket that has pooled around Steve’s legs and pulls it up again, wrapping it around his shoulders properly again.
“I’m just getting comfy,” Steve rumbles, slowly and sluggishly wiggling and twisting on top of him until he stills with a satisfied hum that sounds a lot like a smile.
“Good?”
Another hum, affirmative this time, as Steve buries his cold fingers underneath Eddie’s body. “You’re warm.”
“And you have a fever.”
“Hmm. Still.”
It makes him grin again, makes him want to burst and scream and cry and laugh endlessly.
“Ridiculous,” he says again, no louder than a whisper, and Steve turns his head to press a kiss to the centre of Eddie’s chest. It’s as much of a No, you as Eddie’s going to get, and he cherishes it with everything he has.
“I like that,” Steve says, half asleep by the sound of it.
Eddie reaches for Steve's glasses and places them on the coffee table, and tucks the hat back over his ears. When no elaboration follows, asks, “You like what, angel?”
“That. Your voice. Feels nice.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhmm.”
“Want me to read to you? I think you might like this book, actually.”
Another hum, another kiss — to his heart this time. “I like everything about you.”
“That’s what I wanna hear,” Eddie laughs, reaching for the battered copy of Momo that’s been one of his favourites since Wayne brought it home on a rainy night in ’85 and Eddie stayed up all night devouring it.
“At the edge of the city,” he starts reading the blurb, to give Steve an idea what this is about and let him decide if he wants to listen in or just feel the rumbling of Eddie’s voice in his chest, “in the ruins of an old amphitheatre, there lives a little homeless girl called Momo. Momo has a special talent which she uses to help all her friends who come to visit her. Then one day the sinister men in grey arrive and silently take over the city. Only Momo has the power to resist them, and with the help of Professor Hora and his strange tortoise, Cassiopeia, she travels beyond the boundaries of time to uncover their dark secrets.”
Steve doesn’t react, but Eddie can feel that he’s not quite asleep yet, so he opens the book and starts reading from the beginning that he almost knows by heart. Somewhere on page seven, Steve takes to playing with Eddie’s hair, carding slow fingers through the strands in the gentlest way that is almost enough to distract him. Switching the book from one hand to another as his arms get heavy from the position he’s holding the book, he always has one hand drawing idle patterns underneath the blanket, between Steve’s shoulder blades.
It’s a slow afternoon as the sun sets on them, painting them in golden hues of orange and rose. Once he’s sure Steve is asleep and the living room too dark to keep reading, Eddie puts down the book and sneaks his arms under the blanket, wrapping them loosely around Steve’s shoulders to follow him into dreamland.
hope this lives up to what you had in mind! 🫶
#steddie#steddie fic#sickfic#sick steve harrington#soft eddie munson#i feel like it's so rare for a prompt to vibe with me kjshd but this one was wonderful thank you nonnie! 🤍#does this even qualify as sick fic if all they are is smitten and ridiculous?#pls i need steve in a woollen hat with bat ears okay#dio words
551 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
