#(Edited this because I was tired when I wrote it)

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

it is a lie.

there is the promise, of course, every single time. that this time it will help, this time you'll be able to quit for good after just - once - more -

and then you look up and realise it's 1am and your hands are covered with blood. you've used up all the tissues and it's still bleeding. of course you grab something and stanch it, it's not going to kill you, but it's sure as hell going to make living unfun.

it's a lie. you can be clinical about it - you can measure depth and size and analyse if this needs medical attention or not. and then once you're absolutely sure it could do with it (curse the moment you figured out the technique that allows you to go deeper), you can ignore it and pretend it's fine.

it's not fine, of course. but even now, there's pain. of course there's pain. it's gaping, you idiot, and if you went to the emergency department they'd suture it just like they would have the previous one you ignored that got infected, but improved before you absolutely had to seek medical attention. they are not going to heal quickly; they're going to look pretty bad even if they manage to heal before you've got to wear short sleeves for placement. never mind the fact that summer's coming on. search up summer cardigans and hope they're not too expensive.

but there's pain. why would you do it? why would you keep chasing the high you will not get from this? why are you still thinking, if I just go fully to the muscle layer now, this will fix everything? it won't. you fool. is it muscle pain you're feeling right now, or nerve? how would you know?

cry about it, you bitch. you did it to yourself. you know, what you really want is someone to hug you real good, someone who knows what you've done and why you did it. but last time you showed someone it made you go deeper because what you showed them wasn't enough. you better hope they don't ask to see how that one's healing, because you can't show them the healing process without showing this newest one they don't know you've got. they said they weren't happy with you keeping the implement you used last time. you said it was a once-off, a mad impulse born of a specific, high stress trigger. you might even have believed it.

why would you do it? why are you going so deep, deep enough that after every action to make it deeper, you do all the basic checks to make sure you haven't permanently damaged something? don't mess around with this. your hands are your livelihood. if you hit a nerve, there ain't no coming back from that. you know what you're doing.

arms are dangerous. surely you knew that was almost the exact place someone you knew went, had to get fourteen stitches emergently because they hit something real bad. if you're tired, get sleep. if you're tired of life, get help. don't destroy yourself like this.

it is a lie. it will not make you feel better. it will simply add to your problems. why don't you care? the promise of relief is a lie. if you're sad about it, if you're crying, then do something. tell someone. reach out, and someone will reach back to you. they want to help. let them help. people want to love you; let them love you.

[miraclesnail]

kronus AU, title still pending

chapter 8, 9, 10, 11

First chapter, previous chapter, next chapter

8 SILENA

A walk. 

That was the lie Travis told them when he left this morning. But she and Bianca know better. A walk is the last thing Travis would be doing. He would be frantically scavenging for any sort of edible food that remains, for any medical supplies that have all run out a year ago, for a way out of this hellhole they made for themselves. And without her there to hold Travis back, he can cover 10 times more ground. 

Silena isn’t upset about being lied to. It’s more of a white lie than anything. A lie to spare her feelings. A lie to not make her feel so bad about being a deadweight. She’s fine with it. Not really. She has come to terms with it. Why can’t she do more? And she is over it. She is done with wallowing in self-pity. There are things she can’t do compared to her three companions and she is fine with that. 

So Travis lied to her about the walk. That’s fine. 

Scavenging is fine. 

But not shirt picking in their ruined camp. 

Not reversing all his scars. 

Not duplicating himself so Silena’s hearing one Travis and seeing another. 

Not go somewhere where she’s hearing Annabeth’s voice asking her for answers and demanding to know what she did and who is she who is she speaking to why aren’t you answering are you there hellohellohellohellohello

Bianca stares back at her, holding Travis’s limp body in her thin arms. Travis never fell for her charmspeak ever since Luke taught him how to resist it. So this can’t be Travis. This is just an imposter. It has to be. 

Bianca stares at her, uncertain and alarmed. “What’s wrong, Silena? Why is Travis asleep? Who are you talking to?”

Bianca stares at her with wide, seeking eyes that’s only ever directed at Travis. Silena hates it, hates this pressure that’s passed to her, hates how she immediately looks for Travis or someone else to pass it off too because she doesn’t know. 

Why was she made third in command? Who even needs a third in command in their four person group? Why does Bianca even bother looking at her for guidance? She’s just as lost and clueless. 

Silena bites back her fear and presses the phone against her chest, willing her voice to exude a fraction of confidence their leader always seems to carry. “Go take Travis back to the base. I’ll meet you in a bit.”

Bianca hesitates, Silena smiles wider and nods for her to go, Not-Travis snores away dead asleep, before Bianca nods and leaves with Travis. 

Silena waits to make sure Bianca is fully gone before pressing the phone back to her ear to hear Annabeth still demanding her to answer but now coupled with other voices. Clarisse’s. Percy’s. Will’s and Nico’s. A whole bunch more she can’t recognize. And they’re all saying each other’s name. Not dead then. Alive. They’re alive. It’s impossible. This is a trick. A hallucination. A side effect of always going to bed hungry and waking even hungrier.

Silena closes her eyes, gathers her thoughts, gathers her breath, wills her voice to be steady, fails, and starts choking up when she remembers the way things used to be. 

It’s not them. It can’t be them. There’s no way. Just pretend it’s not them.

And what she is sure is hours later, Silena finally says, “Hello?”

“Who is this?” Fake-Annabeth immediately demands. “What did you do to Travis?”

So Travis is there then. Silena brushes a strand of hair back behind her ears. Think this through, Silena. Confirm it's actually Travis. 

“Let's switch to video mode.”

“… how do I do that?”

Silena clutches the phone. So this isn’t Annabeth then. A god impersonating her? A hallucination? 

“I’ll turn it on. You just press the green button when it comes on the screen.”

“Okay.”

Silena brings the phone away and presses the button in between the phone and the stick figure, a symbol for a camcorder. She hits it. It rings once, twice, then the blank screen flashes white, before readjusting, and there in the middle, exactly as Silena remembers her from before her death, healthy and well, Annabeth Chase. 

Oh gods. 

It’s her. 

It’s really her. 

Annabeth squints, bringing her face close to the camera. “I can’t see you. It's too dark.”

Silena presses her back against the wall and sinks to her knees. 

“See who? Who are you talking to?” Perseus Jackson says, coming up behind Annabeth and squinting into the phone, also healthy with this liveliness in his sea-green eyes. 

Silena presses her face into the crook of her arm and wills her tears and grief and anger at the unfairness of it all back. They’re not real. I want them to be real. It’s a hallucination. I wish this was reality. This is a lie. But what if this whole ordeal had been a nightmare and she’s finally waking up now. 

Off-screen Silena hears a fist smacking against an open palm and Clarisse la Rue’s voice, with all its burly and growly hitches, strong without a hint of defeat. “I bet it’s Kronos’s punks.”

“Who are you?” Annabeth asks again. 

Or maybe she’s finally losing it. She’s nowhere near as strong as the rest of them. Maybe this is the start of her mental breakdown. 

“Hello?” Annabeth says, squinting. “S — … say something.”

“I…” Silena takes a deep breath and presses the heel of her hand into her eye. “I… want to see Travis.”

The camera is whirled around, obviously they had no idea they can just flip the cameras, to Travis on the ground. 

Silena chokes on her tears when she sees Will and… and… is that Connor? It has to be Connor because the one on the ground unconscious has to be Travis. It is Travis. That’s the clothing Travis had earlier this morning when he went outside. 

Make sure though. You have to make sure.

“Pull his turtleneck down,” Silena asks, watching Will and Connor squint at her. 

“Who is that?”

“She’s not saying.”

“Then why are we doing what she says?”

“You know, that’s a good question. Hey, tell us who you are—”

It’s a cacophony of voices, both recognizable and unrecognizable, but the only thing that matters is Will. Silena watches him do as she asks. There’s a furrow in his eyebrow when his fingers make contact with Travis’s skin. He hesitates and Silena wonders if he can feel how bad the wound is beneath the fabric. 

Then he tugs it down. 

Immediately Will stiffen. The talking in the background stops. Silena looks away as soon as she confirms the mess of badly sewn together skin, the bite not even a tiny bit healed in the year and a half since the incident. That’s definitely Travis. 

“Don’t heal him,” Silena warns when she notices Will’s hands glowing. “It will make everything worse.”

“What? Worse how!? This is obviously a life threatening injury. I'm surprised that Travis is even alive!”

“Just don’t,” Silena finishes, knowing the explanation isn’t enough but it's all she can muster right now.

“Tell us what’s going on. You said this is Travis, right? Then what happened to him to become like this.” Annabeth demands. 

The boy in their camp shirt Bianca rescued… Silena supposes that’s what Travis was like before all this. Did they switch the past and present self? Did Travis time travel to the past? Is that even possible? But that Travis looks too old so he can’t be… can he? What if she’s just misremembering? Or what if this is a trick? What if Athena or Hades is playing with them? Should she charmspeak them? Keep them frozen until Travis wakes up several hours from now? They were fighting earlier otherwise he wouldn’t have called her yelling so these people can’t be friends. 

But they aren’t attacking Travis now, are they? And it looks not a single person was hurt or dead, so Travis was holding back. So… they weren’t fighting? Is she assuming too much? Is Travis okay with these people and her acting now will ruin the peace? 

All these thoughts, all these choices, all these unknowns, and the only one who might know what's going on is asleep.  Silena can’t do this by herself. She needs Travis to tell her what’s next, the plan, the course of action. She doesn’t have enough information. But Travis is bound to know what’s going on. He always does and he always knows what to do. 

“Let’s wait for Travis to wake up.”

“Then wake him up. You put him to sleep, right?”

Silena shakes her head before realizing they can’t see her.  “No. He needs a minimum of an hour rest.”

“Why?”

Ah. They don’t know. She chews her cheeks. Should she tell them? Wouldn’t Travis already tell them if they were friends why? Would Travis want her to tell them? Knowing him, no. Never. He would rather die. 

“Why?” Annabeth asks again, not as patient this time and Silena blurts.

“He needs the rest, otherwise he gets cranky and a bit… short-tempered?” Is that the best word to use? Should she have used violent? Or maybe murderous? 

There’s this glint in Annabeth’s eyes. A hard look that Silena doesn’t like. A stare Annabeth only ever reserves for enemies. “So what I’m getting at here is that Travis is dangerous.”

Silena panics more. Everything she says is making it worse. “No! Travis isn’t dangerous. Trust me. If Travis wanted you dead, you all would be dead a thousand times over by now.”

9 WILL

Will stares at the wound. It’s from a bite rather than an injury from a tool. About 45 millimeters long and too deep to be survivable. The carotid artery was definitely bitten. Will can sense the damaged, inflamed tissues throbbing underneath the shabby stitches. The size and shearing along the edges doesn’t seem to indicate an animal did it, but something more humanoid. 

The pain must be unimaginable. It must be unbearable. 

But Will can fix this. He can make it better. And he should. He’s going to. 

But the mysterious girl with the weirdly familiar voice in a panicky voice is saying something about how the pain keeps Travis in check. 

“Don’t. Please, Will. It will make the situation worse. Travis is fine. He was functioning, wasn’t he? He doesn’t want help so please don’t.”

He never said his name. None of them ever said who they are but the girl knows them all. Annabeth. Percy. Clarisse. Nico. 

“He doesn’t want it healed,” the girl finally says. 

Will stares at the empty bottle of nectar he had tried to give earlier. 

“Can I at least dress the wound properly?” he tries compromising. 

“… ask him when he wakes up.”

Okay but what if he does anyway?

“Will, please don’t,” the girl pleads like she knows what he’s thinking, now he’s more certain than ever he knows this girl from somewhere. It’s familiar but he can’t place a face to this person. But her voice, it brings up memories. Of a four year long war, of Lee and Michael, of a dying pine tree, of funeral pyres. The name is on the tip of his tongue but he just can’t remember. 

But fine. 

Fine. 

He won’t. 

“Let’s put him back on the bed,” he tells Clarisse. “You get his legs. I got his head. Nico, you support the back.”

Should he also mention Travis is devastatingly light? He’s way too light for someone his height should be at. They lift him with ease and plop him down on the cushioned bed with care. Well, he and Nico with care. Clarisse more like tosses the legs onto the bed before stomping back to Annabeth still on the phone with Percy huddled beside her. Connor stands next to Annabeth, talking and rubbing his neck and oh yeah, Will is reminded that Travis was just minutes earlier strangling his brother.

Will pushes his way through the group, asking as he comes up, “You okay? Are you having trouble breathing and swallowing?” 

Connor shakes his head, then rubs his neck in a very unconvincing way. “No, Travis didn’t squeeze.”

“I still don’t believe this guy is ‘Travis’,” Clarisse spits. “Do you honestly think Travis can do that? Stab me, choke you, fight us off and actually kind of win? No. This is definitely an imposter.”

Will checks to make sure, brushing Connor’s hand away to feel for himself, and Connor’s right. No bruising. No red marks. It was nothing more than a light touch.

“Wait, wait, wait. Before we go into all that, we need to talk about that… that… vision, or memory, or whatever that was!” Leo stammers coming over to them, his hands pointing at who knows where. “We all saw it, right?! Right?”

“Yeah, so what?” Clarisse grunts. 

“I definitely do not remember anything like that happening,” Leo states. 

Piper nods beside Leo. “Me too.” 

 “So it was a fake vision. A tactic to distract us,” Clarisse dismisses. 

“But—”

“It’s just a trick,” Clarisse snaps, whirling to face the duo. “A ploy. A ruse. Something to help him escape. It doesn’t mean anything.”

But it’s all a mask. Underneath all the biting remarks, Clarisse is just scared and confused. 

“Uhhh, I don’t know if it means anything,” Connor starts, “But when Travis was on top of me and he had his hands around my throat, he smiled and—” 

Clarisse snorts. “So what? Travis laughs at the littlest things.” 

“—his eyes they, uh. They. They turned. Um. Okay, before I tell you guys, you all have to promise to believe me when I say Travis and I will never ever willingly join Kronos. Maybe if we were forced or brainwashed to do it but we will never out of our own choice join him. We’re 100% on the Gods side. Hashtag Team Olympians and all that.”

“Okay,” Annabeth says, calm as ever. “We got it. Go on.”

Connor rubs the back of his head, his eyes not meeting theirs as he finishes quietly. 

“When Travis was on top of me, he smiled and his eyes… his eyes, uh, they did something weird, like—“ Connor swallows. “His eyes turned gold. Like— like when Luke, when he was — When Luke was—”

“When Luke was possessed by Kronos.” 

10 ANNABETH

***Fix later

“Well, what do you have to say to that?” Annabeth asks the girl on the phone.

And Silena Beauregard coughs to clear her throat. “Um, yeah. About that. Umm. I don’t know what you want me to say. Travis will tell you if he feels like it when he wakes up.” 

This is Silena’s voice. Annabeth knows it's her because they had spent hours together Iris Messaging about her math homework. There’s no mistaking it. She is speaking to Silena.

But Silena has long since been dead, happily living in Elysium with Beckendorf so it can’t be her. Maybe the gods are playing a cruel joke on her. Maybe Hera didn’t like her redesigned palace in Olympus and this is her punishment. 

Annabeth keeps her opinions to herself as Silena continues to blabber about Travis needing to be tied to something sturdy. It makes him feel ‘better’ and ‘safe’. Clarisse complies maybe a bit too eagerly and definitely too roughly as she lurches his wrists together with a handcuff to a nightstand.

“Oh. No, you can’t use that. Travis will get out of those in seconds,” Silena tells them. “You have to use something with more, uh, complications. Like a magic self-tying rope or, um, like a high-grade mechanical lock. You know, the ones only Charlie can make.” 

Percy flinches. Clarisse stiffens, the both of them realizing the same time as her. 

Only one person calls Beckendorf by that name. 

“Charlie? Who’s Charlie?” Leo whispers to Piper and Calypso. 

“Beckendorf is dead,” Annabeth answers the same time Clarisse, voice thick with unhidden grief, says, “Silena?” 

Silena laughs, high-pitched and nervous. “Yeah, I know. Don’t remind me. But you guys still have his stuff around, right?” 

“He’s dead, Silena,” Annabeth continues, “And you’re supposed to be dead too.” 

“What? No. No. You’re getting it all wrong. You’re the dead one,” Silena fires back without pause. 

“What are you talking about?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You died in Manhattan. A drakon melted you,” Percy says, choking on his words, “You were impersonating Clarisse and led the Ares cabin into battle. You… saved us with what you did. You died saving us.”

“That’s not funny.” The bitterness in Silena’s voice is a surprise. “You really think I can do something as brave as that? Give me a break.”

“Silena—” Clarisse tries, but from the other line, there’s the sound of shoes scruffing tile and glass. 

“You know what? I’m done here. I’m waiting for Travis to wake up. See you all in an hour. None of you are allowed to touch him or hurt him until he’s awake.”

Annabeth barely has time to process the charmspeak before the call disconnects. 

11

The familiar burning, excruciating pain. 

That’s what he wakes up too. 

[oh good. You’re awake. I was getting tired of pretending I was still asleep.] is the first thing he hears. 

[We need to find a backup to the backup pill. I had a situation] is the next thing which is exactly what he doesn’t need. 

He mentally prepares for the worse. Everybody is gone. Bianca and Nico raised the dead. Perseus caused another storm. The gods are against them. It’s just him, this guy, and the titan now. He has nobody else. 

So when he opens his eyes to find the Big House intact and the sky still free of clouds with just the slightest hint of orange, not a single thing out of the ordinary, he’s confused. He’s on his side, his head on a soft pillow with a comforter over him. It’s… soft. It’s clean. It smells really, really good and feels even better. He wonders if he could somehow sneak one or two or maybe five comforters back with him to give to the others. He peaks over his shoulder to find the room bare. Nico and Will are beside the table, looking through his weapon. Conn— Leo, Calypso, and Piper, talking in a group beside the door. Just those six. 

Where’s the rest of them? He rests the palm of his hand against the wall silently and focuses. There’s… about 5 others in the conference room. Two in the attic. One in the basement on their way back up. That leaves about 6 unaccounted for, but if he had killed them, he doesn’t think they’ll leave him this unsupervised.

What are you talking about? Everything looks fine. 

[No. Will made me throw the pills up. I got it under control somewhat by calling Silena, but I’m sorry. The titan threw some memories around. They might ask about that. Then he was about to choke your brother but I—]  

What?!

He bolts upwards and kicks the comforter off him, drawing everybody’s attention. He hears the chairs scraping and weapons leaving their sheath as he bounds over to Connor. 

“Are you okay?” The words come out first before his stupid eyes kick in. Connor looks fine. Not even a bruise on his neck. And now everybody is staring at him with half having their weapons drawn. 

[— stopped him so he’s fine.]

Maybe he should have waited and finished listening.  

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Connor squeaks, stiff as a board. But a corner of his mouth twitches up into a crooked smile. “Uh, thanks for asking!”

His heart twists and turns and screams at the familiarity. 

Great. I'm glad, he tries to stay but it sticks to his throat. All he hears is his heart pounding and a voice in the back of his mind telling him this isn’t his brother, his own brother would never look at him like that, would never smile like that, would never act like that. And it’s all his fault. [No. It’s not. It was an accident.] 

A hand on his arm. A gentle voice, scolding and firm but caring. “Stop that. You’ll tear open the stitches.”

He peels his eyes back open to find Will beside him, softly but insistently tugging his hand away from where he was digging into his neck. 

“You saw,” he states emotionlessly, pulling his arm free and stepping back, the automatic, practically ingrained, fibbing starting right away, “It's not that bad. It doesn’t even hurt.”

Their collective faces tell him no one even remotely believed him. 

“I’m fine. I swear,” he lies, looking away from all their stares. It makes him uncomfortable. Their blatant concern. Their obvious worry. No bloodlust, no anger, no pain. It’s weird. It’s unnerving. It makes his heart twist and pang and want what will never come. 

“I’m fine,” he says again, weakly. 

“No. You’re not,” Will says, stepping up to him, eyes hard. “Not with that injury. Not after that stunt.”

“I—” Travis starts, but stops. What is he supposed to say? I know what it looks like, but I was not trying to kill myself. It was to make sure I don’t kill any of you. 

“Travis. It’s okay. You don’t have to be scared. We won’t hurt you. Just—” Connor starts, sounding perfectly normal and reasonable, just like his old self. Like nothing bad ever happened. Like he could just pretend he’s alright and nothing is wrong, like the past two years were nothing more but a bad dream. 

If only. 

“Where’s my phone?” he asks instead because that’s safe. That’s a goal he can focus on. [Not here.] 

None of them have it. No reason to stay then. 

He starts backing towards the door, debating if he can get to it before the other six. But Will catches on and grabs his wrist to stop him. It takes all he has to not flinch. Last time Will caught him, he gave his leg a bad case of gas gangrene. [Will’s not dead here. Don’t lash out.] 

“You’re in no condition to be moving about,” Will scolds. 

“Stay here,” Piper persuades, voice gentle and his chest warms, aches with emotion that’s not his own. “Rest.”

He pushes back against the charmspeaking and shakes his wrist free, stepping back. Before any of them can come closer, he digs the heel of his shoe down into the floor and kicks up. The floor comes with his shoe, creating a makeshift wall that collides with the ceiling. Whoops. He was a bit too eager there. He looks behind him to make sure the floor isn’t stretched too thin. As great as this power is when it comes to remodeling, he can only work with what he has. Great news, the floor did not split in half. He’ll fix this when it’s all over. 

“What the hell?” he hears Leo say. 

Guess his counterpart here doesn’t have his home-remodeling ability. 

Weird. 

[I still think the ability belongs more with M—Athena’s children. They’re the architects.] Dad was the god of hospitality. And part of hospitality is making sure the house is cozy, so we are connected to architects in a way. [I guess, but wouldn’t I get the same power? My d—] 

A board creaks behind him. A hand hovers over his arm. He reacts out of instinct, out of reflex. He grabs the wrist of the hand and twists, sweeping his leg at the same time to knock the zombie down. He’s already pulling the arm taunt across his chest in an arm lock with the back of knees on the neck when he realizes it’s Nico and not an undead. 

“Whoops. Sorry,” he says, loosening his grip immediately and tries not to think about how close he was to snapping Nico’s neck. 

Nico glares at him on his back, obviously not pleased, twisting a hand around his joggers and shadow-traveling them back into the room. 

It’s not like he hadn’t shadow-travel before. Bianca has used it on them multiple times as a last resort kind of deal when the situation calls for it. Normally, he handles it fine. But this time? This time he is not handling it fine. He’s not handling it at all. 

But there’s no option here. Push past the nausea. Find the phone. 

“Nico?” Will says, alarmed, voice distant. (Blood and open holes and gushing wounds, pained and dying screams, a plea to end the misery, an apology for never being enough) [it’s not real you’re not there]

“I’m fine,” Nico grunts, getting out under him. “I think I surprised him and he retaliated. I’m not hurt, Will. Don’t worry.”

As soon as Nico is away, he takes the opportunity to dig a hand into the ground and lift the floor up like it’s a rug. He rolls through the open flap, pulls it shut behind him, and promptly falls ten feet to the basement floor. He lands hard on his hands and knees and fuck. He feels it hard into his bones as the pain reverberates through his whole body. 

[you okay?] Yeah. Fine. 

It’s not a moment later that Nico is there behind him again. And again he puts him in an armlock. 

Nico grunts, rolls some, but realizes there’s no way he’s getting out and tries to shadow travel again. Further this time. In a more twisty and convoluted route. Probably to disorient him. It’s working very well. He’s getting more nauseous by the minute. But he has been through worse. 

When Nico exits out of the tunnel, he retightens his grip and knees until they’re in lock again. He’s planning on ditching Nico immediately. Nico is already panting. He’s bound to give up after one or two rounds. But it’s light he sees it in the eyes, the way they’re defiant and determined. Nico isn’t going to give up until he’s way past his limits. 

“Look, I… I just —” He loosens his grip, lets Nico wriggle out beneath him, before pulling himself into a crossed-leg sitting position. “I just need to find my phone. I need to check back with Silena. They’re in danger and I got to see if they got out safely.” 

Nico glares, and he remembers Bianca glares the same way whenever he goes out by himself. They’re equally not terrifying anymore. 

“Then just say that. One of us would have escorted you.” Then Nico grabs him and shadows-travels again. 

Nico drops them off in front of Annabeth [great!] and Perseus, fuck no. Before anyone can get close, he plants his foot flat on the ground and kicks up with his heel. The wooden floor follows his foot and goes up like it’s made of putty, wood contorting and creaking and nearly snapping. But it doesn’t and it creates an effective blockade as it touches the ceiling.

He hears complaints from the other side, “Woah, what is this? What did Travis just do?” 

“What the fuck was that, Stoll? I literally plopped you right in front of her!”

“No. Not him. Not with Perseus there. I don’t want to be anywhere near him.” 

No Perseus. No Leo. No Piper. No Will. Not his brother. Preferably no one but this world’s Silena and Bianca. He wonders if he could somehow achieve that. 

“Well, tough luck.”

With a quick inhale and exhale, Nico drops them off at Annabeth and Perseus’s feet but much closer this time. 

This fucking sucks, he thinks as he kicks up the floor into another wall and Nico again gets ready to Shadow Travel. *****

xxxxx

He wakes up to the horrid and gloomy sound of rain. The bringer of sad campers. The tall tell of canceled activities. The start of endless complaints and whines from all ages. 

Travis hates the rain. 

It makes his job so much worse. 

Granted, it doesn’t rain much in Camp Half Blood. But the few times it did, it always meant horrible news. 

And it makes everything damp. And it smells so gross. And the stupid wet, clinging leaves. Oh gods the leaves and the raking and the constant raking. 

Plus the rain dripping onto his face is what wakes him up from his pleasant dream to this Hades hole. 

Travis hates the rain. 

But at least it gives him something to think about. Anything is better than thinking about his current situation. He’s currently crouching beside a broken, jarred door kept in place by only one hinge, peeking through the tiniest of openings, peeping like some kind of creep. The damp and soggy mattress he wakes up in with the thin, raggedy blanket is the only thing in the barren room. Nothing else. 

A drop of what he hopes is water falls from the ceiling, hitting him square in the eye and Travis grits his teeth and stifles a groan. 

Travis hates the rain. 

But more than that, he hates Kronos. 

And right outside the door, two dead people are talking to each other. About him. And what they’re going to do. To him. With a third voice, another girl’s, raspy and hoarse, barely audible, nothing more than a muffled murmur. No matter how much he shifts, Travis can’t see the third person. 

Should he still try to make a run? It’s risky though. What if he tries to escape and run directly into person 3? Then what will happen to his escape plan? Should he even escape? Didn’t Bianca save him from Michael who just left him as dinner for Lou Ellen? What is he saying, of course he should escape. Silena was a traitor! So Bianca must be too! But… Silena repented, even died for them… she’s good now. So why did she charmspeak him when he wasn’t doing anything in the first place? Why was she talking with Connor on the phone? Why was Connor screaming like that in the first place? Is he hurt? Is he in danger? 

What should he do? Connor, what should he do? Someone please tell him what to do. He’s never had to do this before. He has never been in a situation like this without his brother by his side or without Annabeth or Percy in the lead. He never had to make the calls. Someone made them and he followed their orders. That’s his role. That’s his position in this world of otherworldly beings. 

A NPC that stayed out of the limelight. A side-character that’s meant to have zero purpose. A random guy that’s just enjoying life and chilling out. 

But you’re here now and this is reality, so get it together and stop freaking out. 

Travis isn’t freaking out. He’s not scared. He’s been in worse situations. He’s been in far worse, far scarier situations. This is nothing! Nothing at all!

Travis clasps his trembling hands to his chest and gets his breathing under control. He still has his weapon with him. He’s fine. All his organs and limbs are still with him. He’s going to be fine. 

If they wanted him dead, he would already be dead. If they’re not dangerous then him running isn’t going to do anything. But if they are dangerous, then him running is a big brain, Annabeth-approved move! Right? Right?! That sounds reasonable. 

Travis looks around the room again, for another escape route, for anything to use as a weapon, but there’s nothing except for the sad mattress and the jarred door. 

And the broken, paneless window. 

Travis creeps to the window and looks down, the ground being nothing more than a sea of fog that the rain does nothing to penetrate through. To the left, there’s another window. And to the left of that window, there’s also another window. Perfect! He can sneak past Bianca, Silena, and the mysterious 3rd person. 

Okay then. 

Okay. 

He can do this. 

He can do this! 

Travis grips the window frame. It feels loose which did absolutely nothing to boost his confidence. He hops onto the sill, heart stopping as his feet skids against the wet frame. He doesn’t slip off though, doesn’t even lose his balance, but it’s a reminder that he should have invested in non-slip shoes. In fact, he vaguely remembers Annabeth lecturing him and Will about the grip on their shoes and how it’s ‘not appropriate’ and it ‘will end with you dead one day’ and ‘it will let you down at the worst time’. 

What amazing foresight Annabeth had. He really wished he heeded her warning all those years ago. 

With a deep breath, Travis leaps on top of the frame, hands gripping concrete slabs to steady himself. There’s nothing for his hands to grip to. His survival will depend solely on his shoes with their bad grip. How should he do this? Back against the wall so he can see just how far the fall is? Chest to the wall so his toes are the only thing supporting him? Eh. He can flip-flop the technique. There’s at least two windows to get past anyway. 

Travis scoots his foot further out, just a few centimeters past the window. There’s enough of a ledge just for his toes. His heels hang dangerously off to the sea of mist. WIth a deep breath and half-baked determination, Travis looks to his destination. About 15 feet to the left, there is another window. 15 feet. That's not too long. He can do this. He has to do this. 

He takes one step, hand moving along the smooth slab of concrete. And immediately, his hand slides, his foot slips, he’s falling, his life flashes before his eyes, he panics, he may have screamed, he definitely squeezes his eyes shut and prays. When he peeks them open, he’s still on the ledge. Oh. Haha, his mind was just playing tricks on him then!

That’s a sure sign that he shouldn’t be doing this. He scrambles back into the safety of the room, body shivering probably more from the adrenaline than the cold. Probably an equal amount. Probably more from the cold. Their camp shirt isn’t meant for the winter and rain. 

“I tried,” he says out loud to himself, stretching and shaking his limbs. “Oh well. Can’t say I didn’t try. Guess I’ll just wait here.” 

“Waiting. That’s your plan? That’s disappointing.” 

Someone speaks behind him. 

He turns and jumps back, hands going to his wrist out of instinct. 

It’s a girl in bronze armor with a bright orange shirt underneath, spoiled in dirt and dried blood. Her gray eyes bore into him, hair in the usual high ponytail, the stray blonde strands framing a stern, highly disappointed face.

“I thought you got better,” Annabeth Chase says, “I thought you were done with giving up.” 

Travis blinks and it’s — it’s weird, but this can’t be Annabeth. This person in front of him is like a whole head shorter than him. Last time he checked, he was taller than Annabeth by just 2 ½ inches. 

He can’t dwell on that, now when she’s charging towards him with a pair of knitting needles in each hand. Fast. She’s coming at him fast. One blink and she’s halfway there. Another and the needles are going for his neck. Travis panics and leans back to avoid the first swipe. 

He does not avoid the following kick to his stomach that sends him to his knees. It stuns him, makes him choke in pain. Annabeth shifts and he watches the needle, unnaturally sharpened to a point, come for the neck again. Move. You have to move. Move. Move. Move. 

He leans back again and grabs Annabeth’s wrist as it passes him and tries to shake it free from her. Immediately Annabeth twists her arm in some judo move that has him in a chokehold. It’s the way she moves her other arm that makes him think she’s going to snap his neck. Travis panics again and throws his head back, hard. Back of head smashing against a nose. Annabeth hisses and her grip loosen, Travis taking the opportunity to wiggle out and get some distance in this small room. 

He would have bolted out the door, because at least Bianca and Silena haven’t tried to kill him. But this scary, murderous Annnabeth is standing between him and the door. Did she positioned herself like that on purpose? 

Annabeth fixes her nose back into place without a flinch and rolls a shoulder before she’s coming to him again.

“Why aren’t you fighting back?” Annabeth demands, making another swipe that he ducks from and it’s then Travis notices the blemish on Annabeth’s neck. A bruise that covers the entire back of her neck, an ugly purple stain on her tanned skin.

“Why are you just running away?” Annabeth pressures, scowling, pointing a knitting needle at him. “Running won’t solve your problems. You know that.” 

Why isn’t he fighting back? Why is he just running away? What is he doing? Why can’t he talk? Why is he just standing here just staring? Oh. Because he’s scared. He’s stricken with fear. His mind is blank, numb. Nothing is processing except —

“Me?! Why are you—” it comes out too much like a shrill shriek and he clenches his fist, clears his throat, tries again and chokes on the first syllable at the sudden swipe of a needle and attempted chokehold. He dodges it and scrambles to the other side of the room. As far away as he can from her and tries again, calmer this time, just slightly less shrill-y. “Why are you doing this? A-aren’t we friends?”

“We are friends.” Annabeth cracks her neck, gray eyes abnormally bright in the dim room. They shine with killing intent, a cold cruelty he never saw before in her. “That’s why part of the contest has a pain grading. Don’t worry. I will end you as painlessly as possible, as quickly as I can. I’ll show him I can do it better than he ever can. Put up a fight though. I don’t want this to be an easy win.”

[goldxnfemme]

is it normal to feel like you might not actually be femme bc of your physical appearance? every femme i've ever seen just had this natural beauty and glow, and i just don't have that, i'm ugly. i feel really drawn to the identity in every other way, but i feel like a monster next to other femmes. like.. if i look so different and feel like that there has to be a reason, maybe because im something else. and yeah technically i know femme doesn't have a specific body type or look, but i don't think ugly femmes exist.

I feel like in their own way almost every femme has felt like that, unfortunately, anon, like they don't belong or really inadequate around other femmes, most femmes I've known and talked to, at the very least. I have been feeling really inadequate and unwelcome and just weird in the community lately because of some things I went through recently and I'm still not too sure how to get back from that.

It does make me feel sad that so many of us feel like that and I think it's a two part problem. The first part speaks about our own insecurities, the ways we see ourselves and how we compare ourselves to others since they've been made the standards of the identity by others and sometimes by us too. The second part is the community praising and recognising almost only a very set pattern of traits that makes the rest of us feel like "if I'm not like that, then something must be wrong with me". That goes for the way you behave, to the way you describe yourself, to the things you like and dislike and it's a lot, it's tiring.

Sometimes people talk about this standard as if it needs to be protected like it's in danger of extinction, the very expected/standardized idea of femme (skinny, cis passing, hyperfeminine, pink and girly, always with makeup and hair done), it's silly. I mostly feel an immense sense of unfairness from all that. It inherently defeats the nature of femme, if it's made to be one size fits all.

I wish it weren't so, I wish the diversity of femmes in so much more than beauty (and in beauty too, since it's what you mentioned here) and more ways of doing femme, existing as femme were more widely recognised in the community, but we still have a long way to go to achieve that, I think.

What I want to tell you is: I'm sorry you're feeling like that, especially around other femmes. That's not how we're supposed to make each other feel, intentionally or not.

this idealised femme very much doesn't exist, what gets posted on the internet isn't what we look like a lot of the time*: it's not us feeling sick or tired or having a difficult day with disabilities, it's not us just finishing work after a long week, it's not us handling things with our partners, running around having to organize things at home, general responsibilities and not be late for work, it doesn't show us when we're sad and we're feeling less than strong and brave. This idealised notion of femme sometimes takes away from our humanity playing weaknesses and flaws, real or perceived, as not femme. And femme importantly isn't about beauty as you know, but it is about those things that don't get shown a lot too.

The way you're feeling is common, a lot of the time I'm right there with you, I wish it weren't common though. And for what it's worth, it might be a lot of you doubting yourself, though I'm sure it's not the entire issue. All kinds of femmes exist, so many of us, an amazing variety.

I'm not sure how helpful this is, but ugliness and beauty are subjective, but also exacerbated by silly standards. Be careful with those. Also thank you for trusting me with this and giving me a space to speak about my own feelings, anon, even without knowing.

*mind you, almost every time I post a picture I have makeup on or it's a time I feel really good about myself and it doesn't happen for the majority of the time.

[i-may-be-an-emu]

Hey if we’re mutuals or anything and you’re sick of all the shoot from the hip posts feel free to filter the tags #shoot from the hip #sfth #shootimpro if you don’t wanna see these posts cause those are the main ones I tag sfth posts and reblogs with and I don’t want to annoy people! I understand and it’s totally ok to filter the tags I use :) I know it’s a lot lol

[kalashtars]

i need professors to start including their late work policies in syllabi again. i'm trying to make strategic decisions here

[randomuzerthelozer]

Do you ever make a full on essay post about something happening that proves a point you had, but then you realise you miss read the post you got the orignal info from and basically your full entire point falls apart(EVEN THOGUHT YOU CAN CLEALRY TELL YOUR ON THE RIGHT TRACK)

(IF YOU WANT TO SEE MY POINTS INA SAMLLER WAY GO INTO THE TAGS I WENT INSANE BRO)

[sobuildabeautifulcity]

Your disappointment warrants a disclaimer though, otherwise you're seeding a certain sentiment a lot of trolls and shill are trying to whip up. Don't be that person who thinks writers and actors owe you endless content for less than a living wage.

i respect your opinion and you’re not strictly incorrect but… thats not my point lol & you’ve kinda proved my issue.

the main part of my thoughts was that i have an issue with, and i quote: not being able to post when you’re experiencing multiple conflicting feelings without explaining all of them without being attacked.

it’s not only about the strikes, it’s anything that someone thinks you cant have complicated emotions towards if you don’t explicitly say so. my example was about the strikes because thats the most recent thing i’ve seen, but it’s more than that. not allowing people to express only their negative feelings in their own space online, simply because it might overlap with people being dicks intentionally about it isn’t the right way to go about it. for example, saying you’re disappointed because your favourite band pushed back their album release doesn’t mean you’re not sympathetic to the fact they delayed it due to health issues, it just means you’re disappointed because you were excited about it & had planned for it happening on a specific day. you expressing that upset online shouldn’t need to involve a disclaimer, because it should be implied - until proven otherwise - that you care about your band’s wellbeing. if you send a string of posts abusing the band for postponing it, yeh, youre a dick. but if you send one which is ‘aw man this sucks so much we wont get the album’, thats not something you should associate with the people being dicks about it despite it being negative in tone.

idk, i like to assume the best of people rather than thinking they’re dicks & don’t feel a complicated way about things.

if someone expresses disappointment about their plans changing due to something, that doesn’t mean they disagree with the thing that changes their plans? it solely means they are disappointed that their expectations for the coming time period changed & to assume otherwise unless proven only makes your worldview more negative.

this… insistence that all your feelings must be explained entirely and in full in order for you to grumble about something online is exhausting, and unnecessary if you simply assume the best of people. and, quite frankly, it is why i stopped using my tumblr for anything beyond reblogging stuff until recently.

i’ll add a disclaimer here, as well as the one that’s in the tags, bc my point is being proven lol: i support pretty much all unions & their decisions to strike (us police unions are not included hence my ‘pretty much all’). i am 100% sure that the wga & sag aftra should strike & fully support them doing so, shutting down hollywood is a great way to have bargaining power. the conditions they are expected to work under are abhorrent & they need better protection. it is also absurd to say that you can’t express disappointment about things you were looking forward to being cancelled without needing to add a disclaimer that your frustration is aimed at the other side of the negotiations for not capitulating, and not at the sag members. if you are posting your feelings on your blog, you should not need to caveat those feelings. the default of people assuming the worst of others makes the world a worse place.

i have a tendency to over explain my point so that it gets across, and often that means my coherence suffers lol. please bear in mind i am cognitively disabled & severely ill.

[anonyanonymouse]

Going into the notes app to add another two paragraphs to the wip before I pass out and die wish me luck

[notallbloodmages]

This guy deleted his post off FB - presumably because people were pointing out that this isn't how it works. The post itself isn't bad, it's just that we don't need to make up reasons to support a strike that already has a ton of true reasons.

While I appreciate that this sounds plausible, WB is straight-up cutting programs from their services to save $$$ on residuals (allegedly). No name change needed for that. In addition, the strike is (along with other equally important issues) because many services are just not paying residuals at all because it's not on a "channel," and streaming online "doesn't count." There are absolutely byzantine loopholes regarding streaming vs. an actual television channel. But "Max" is still airing HBO content along with Discovery content, and changing the name of the thing doesn't change which company is streaming them in the first place. So if residuals were owed as long as a show remained on HBO, Max still counts as HBO because it is the same thing. I don't doubt that HBO knows how to skirt contracts or anything of course, but again a big part of the strike is streaming services not paying residuals in the first place.

The reason for the name change is more likely to be because this is what brands do all the time. Their thing doesn't shit money, so they re-brand in hopes that a new name and/or look will make customers suddenly go gaga for whatever they're shilling. Worst case it'll at least make the news and we all know any attention is good attention according to these ghouls. Zaslav claims that it's to make their original content stand out from old HBO content or acquired content, and to coincide with the packaging of Discovery+ with HBO content, but that sounds like bullshit.

Less important - the name doesn't sound stupid for sounding "like a knockoff of Cinemax," because Cinemax is literally an HBO-owned service and part of the choice to go with "Max" was because people already know Cinemax. It was a deliberate choice to conjure Cinemax with the name. It's stupid because it's the 4th name change for HBOs streaming service(s) and a single word is meaningless an deveryone is still going to call it HBOMax anyway.

PLEASE correct me if I am wrong either technically or completely, or feel free to say what I said but clearer/with better details. If I got it wrong, I will accept that with grace so please don't be a dick about correcting me. This is a tumblr post not a phd submission. It's hard to look this stuff up right this second because every news source is reporting on Zaslav basically jerking himself off over how smart and cool he is at branding, and I am also very sleepy. But I could not find a single source saying that HBO wouldn't owe residuals because of a name change.

[wolviensabes]

Logan and pregnancy.

RQ: 'Logan taking care of his pregnant girlfriend perchance 🤔' -@wheezyth3dem0n

Warnings: F!reader, pregnancy themes, written in HC style.

A/N: I just wrote pregnancy hcs on my main blog so let's keep the theme going. Ignore grammar mistakes, not edited.

Logan knows you're pregnant instantly when the scent of your hormones change.

He looks to you and he isn't sure how to feel just yet. He hadn't planned on getting you pregnant, it wasn't something that he ever thought about. But it was his reality now, and he wasn't too sure on how to feel.

He was just a little wary jumping into something so permeant, considering your lifestyles. The dangers that are involved, all he thought about was how the baby would be in constant danger. Especially knowing it would most likely be mutant.

You were a little hurt, knowing he was a bit standoffish since the discovery, but after some thinking he had come around and explained what he was thinking about, and how he was just worried about its upbringing. It was reassuring that he comforted you in this sense, even if it initially hurt when he backed off.

"M'sorry, this is all...new to me. I never thought I'd be a dad...of all people." Logan grumbled to you, rubbing your back to try to reassure you that he was happy, it was just...a lot for him to take in.

When you begin to show, Logan's presence starts to become more and more. His missions are spread out a bit more, and he spends more time around you. At first, your pregnancy is mostly independent, besides him being around in the evening. You figure it's because he's still processing that you are carrying his kin, but as he starts to come around more often, you're surprised but decide not to mention it.

Logan starts to observe you closer, his hands often find your belly and rub it. He can hear the heartbeat, and he leans closer so he can rest by your belly. Most nights are like this when he's not holding you. He pays close attention to your habits, as well as schedule, memorizing everything you do day to day. When you get a little bigger, he notices daily tasks are a bit more difficult for you.

"Let me help," Logan insisted gruffly, watching you try to pick up clothes for laundry. He worded it more like a demand than offer, he didn't like how you were bending over so often.

"I got it, Logan, really," your stubbornness insisted you could handle it, but he had his doubts. He could see your clear struggle, he could sense you were tired but you were so stubborn.

"Enough." he demanded and gently pulled you away from the laundry, his arms strong around you and easily maneuvering you around. He sat you down and pointed at you. "Stay." he ordered.

Logan brings you food, he doesn't cook a lot but he still tries. He gets help from Jean or Storm. But he's always the one to bring it to you. He displays a lot of instinctual habits by now, especially since you're showing more now. Something inside him just...triggers when he sees your swollen belly. When you walk around the mansion for some exercise, he is right there with you, his eyes scanning the halls and every single person around you.

He growls at people who come close, he is so insanely protective over you now. It shocks you the first time he about lunges at Scott when he asked you how far along you were. "Logan!" you watched your feral boyfriend literally snarling at Scott.

"Get your eye off her, slim." he hissed, his voice was venomous and mean. Scott was just as surprised, even for Logan he was acting much more aggressive. You pulled Logan along, muttering an apology to Scott along the way.

"Logan what the hell! He was just asking how far I was," you muttered, your bristled boyfriend still had an irritated expression. His nostrils flared as he looked down at you. "Easy...it's fine. He's gone, just relax..." you rubbed your hands over his chest, soothing him from his protective mode.

He piles you into the shared room you have, he gets you all settled on the bed and cozy, there are so many blankets and pillows there and they act as excellent support for your large belly. He makes sure you're as comfy as possible, he fusses a lot by grumbling and making sure you have enough blankets. "Keep the baby warm." he grunts at you, covering you with a blanket as if your baby will get cold.

Logan likes to lay close to your belly, he can hear the baby and smell the change you emit because of all the hormones. He hears the baby moving around too, he enjoys listening to his little one in there.

You end up bound to the bed for a while, your ankles were so swollen and you were weak as the pregnancy progressed. You relied on him and he was more than happy to comply. He rubs your swollen ankles and feet, leaning forward and letting his facial hair tickle your belly.

When you feel your hormones flare, you get emotional and worried about labor and birth, all the normal worries for a mother to be. Logan sits with you and lets you vent your worries, but he is also the voice of reason during your emotional episodes. He always reassured you, telling you it would be alright, he was here with you, and he'd never let anything happen to you.

When your little one does arrive, it will be the most protected baby on the planet, not only the baby, but you too. Like hell anyone will get the chance to harm you with Logan by your side.

Thanks for reading.

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

[violetszone]

Whats your kink?

Charles x fem!reader

From this request

Summary: You've been trying to find Charles' kinks for a long time But you didn't learn this until you started taking birth control pills.

A/n: again, i don't know what i wrote,i'm too tired to read and edit it sorry...

WARNINGS: Google translated French,breeding, Quick finish,not edited writing, fully smut, unprotected sex (God, please use protection my friends.)

You always thought Charles had some weird kink and you'd find it The reason for taking this as a mission was that it started like this: One New Year's Eve, while you were playing a game with your friends, someone asked Charles this question, and he stared at you for a few seconds and then answered no. Since that day you've been trying to bring this up without letting him know.

Of course, finding this was harder than you expected because you were at the very beginning of your relationship when it happened, and now you had been dating for almost 2 years.You tried everything you thought would excite him, but they couldn't. Until one day you came home from the doctor's check-up and said that you started taking birth control pills.

You could have sworn you saw a twinkle in Charles' eyes at that moment, even if only for a brief moment.Of course, nothing happened for a while until you started using the pill regularly and one night the lust for both of you became unbearable.

Charles had returned from a meeting in Italy and you were waiting for him at home. The moment he got home, he left his backpack at the door and pulled you towards him and pressed you to his lips, kissing you passionately. Before you knew it, you were entering your bedroom, half-naked in Charles' arms.Charles kissed your entire body, licking and biting the sensitive spots he knew would turn you on, you were burning underneath him.

When he put his hand into the bedside drawer, he frowned and got up, cursing. You looked at Charles, out of breath "what's wrong?"Charles rummaged through the drawer for a while and looked at you with disappointment and sat down next to you. "I'm sorry my love, there is no condom, I must have forgotten that, I'm sorry"

You rose up on your arms, looked at him and spoke hesitantly. "I'm on pills you know that-" Charles bit his lower lip, examined your face, then shook his head no "There is no guarantee and it will leave you in doubt, I can't do this" you put your hand on his shoulder and climbed onto his lap, "but I can do it. Please Charles, I miss you so much." While you leave little pecks on Charles' lips and neck he moaned softly and his hands came up to your waist.

You whispered "please" against his lips as he slowly pulled you away from him He laid you back down on the bed and returned to his previous position, stroking your hair. “I have to do whatever my sweet thing wants.” While his words made you smile, Charles' hand slipped into your underwear, causing you to moan. "Look at this, is this all for me Y/N hm tell me. Do I make you this wet every time I touch you?" You moaned and closed your eyes as Charles's two fingers entered you. When one of your hands reflexively tried to hold Charles' arm, Charles pinned your hands to the bed with his free hand.

He fingered you, giving you brutal pleasure as you writhed and moaned underneath him. Just as you were about to reach climax, Charles pulled his hand away, you made a sound between a moan and a whimper and opened your eyes. While he took off his trousers and underwear with one hand, he sucked the fingers of his other hand that gave you pleasure "What a gorgeous girl you are hm. You will cum on my cock, beauty, you heard? I will make you cum on my raw cock. Look how excited you are.Do you want my cock beauty? "

You moaned and moved your hips towards Charles.Charles rubbed his dick with one hand and pressed your hips to the bed with his other hand "behave" You whined when he growled "Fuck, don't you have those tits, you're destroying me, especially when those tight dresses squeeze them, my god i want to fuck them some time" He pinched your nipple with two fingers, making you moan, He came closer and licked and sucked and bit your tits ""Cha-ah!" You made a sound that was a mix of moaning and screaming, and he put one hand over your mouth.

"shhh be quiet beauty, we wouldn't want the neighbors to hear what a loud slut you are, would we?" As your eyes filled with tears of pleasure, you nodded your approval. Charles took his hand from your mouth, connected his lips with yours and kissed you passionately. "Let me love you baby" While kissing your neck, he started to slide his length into your wetness.

"oh fuck Charles...o- oh my god" When Charles was completely inside you, he paused and looked into your eyes, "fuck sweetie, this is heaven." Charles slowly started to move inside you. Feeling each other completely for the first time was very different for both of you, you felt like you were going to die.

As Charles' movements speed up, you felt yourself getting closer to climax and dug your nails into his back. "My fuckkk please omg! Charles I'm gonna-" Charles moaned as he squeezed your breast with his free hand "cum baby, cum on my cock" While your back was arched , you held on to Charles's arm, which held your chest. While your body was shaking, you closed your eyes and moaned.Charles' movements became sharper and harder as you cum.

"Fuck baby, I'm gonna cum, fuck, I'm gonna fill you up hmmhhh. Putain, tu es si sexy, je vais remplir ta taille de mes bébés. Let me fucking breed you" (Fuck, you're so hot, I'll fill your belly with my babies) You just moaned what Charles said, you were out of breath, after a few seconds he started to cum inside you, He came deep down to the last drop.Then hugged you tiredly without putting all his weight on you he gave you a kiss on your cheek, came out and lay down next to you.

You started laughing as you stared at the ceiling, out of breath. Charles frowned and looked at you “what's the matter?” You turned sideways and placed a kiss on Charles' arm. "Breeding kink. Really? I would never have guessed.I've been trying for a year in vain " Charles rubbed his face with his hand and looked into your eyes again. "Have you been doing those weird sex things for a year to find my kink? God baby.." he chuckled, you rotated your hips and placed one of your legs over Charles's. Both of your pleasure juices were still flowing out of you. Charles groaned at the sight and closed his eyes.

"Omg you really have a breedink kink" Charles put his finger to your lips "shut up, god" you giggled your head on his shoulder "and my tits? seriously?" This time Charles took his arm off you and tried to turn around, and you laughed. "Come on Charles I'm just kidding...I actually liked it really" Charles turned and hugged me "hey Charlie, stop looking at my ass please" Charles laughed at your words, inhaled your scent and pulled back from the hug and played with your hair, "I'm sorry, it was just so beautiful." You put a small peck on his lips and smiled "i know baby thank you for that" You leaned your head on his chest again and started to doze off while he caressed your hair and kissed your head.

[n0thingbutlov3]

need you now

in which an impulsive voicemail leads to some secrets being spilled.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader. warnings/tags: angst (sorry i’m incapable of being nice lol) hurt/comfort tho!! lil bit of fluff too because i AM capable of being nice, alcohol consumption as a coping mechanism (i’m literally just a girl…) spencer and reader are broken up :( but they’re still sooo in love and it’s soo obvious so it’s fine!! (also it kind of gets fixed at the end-ish. you’ll see *evil smirk*) reader cries a lot (real) spencer is a cutie (as always) spencer and reader sleep together…no like literally, not in a funny business way, some swearing, no use of y/n!!! wc: 3k a/n: hihihi!! so this is my first fan fiction i’ve wrote and completed ever (gulp) it’s also my first time publishing one (gulp) my writing could definitely be better and so could my grammar tbh but i HOPE if you choose to read you’ll enjoy…feedback is always appreciated (plsplspls) also like requests?? if anyone’s into that—id love to write more but inspo is difficult sometimes. if there’s any spelling mistakes im sorry, eye am very tired!! it’s 5am *eye twitching* okay i’m going to sleep, gootbye IF U SAW ME EDITING THIS 5 TIMES NO U DIDNT (i’m bad at tumblr ok..)

“Hi. This is Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m not available right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can…”

His tinny voice cut off to make way for the signature beep of the beginning of a voicemail recording.

You could hang up now—you should hang up now, save yourself some dignity and go drown your sorrows in alcohol like a normal person instead of calling your ex-boyfriend.

You should, but your mouth was opening before your finger could reach the hang-up button, and…and it was a losing battle from the moment you clicked on Spencer’s icon.

“Uh—hi, it’s…it’s me.” You huffed out a sad laugh.

“So, um, I…I tried calling, but you didn’t answer so…” The static buzz of silence hummed through your ear, just inches from where you held your phone with a shaky grip. “maybe you’re on a case or out with friends, or someone else—“ You let the implication hang in the air—the thought of Spencer potentially being in a relationship bringing a lump to your throat.

You swallowed it down.

“I just…I just had an unbelievably shitty day, Spence.” You sniffed, wiping the moisture that had escaped from your eye with your sweater sleeve. “I know you’ve never read A Series of Unfortunate Events but I think I’d give those kids a run for their money.” You tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sob.

You inhaled shakily, trying to collect yourself and remember why on earth you thought it would be a good idea to call Spencer when you’d been broken up for months. Hell, you hadn’t heard from him at all since you had parted ways—except from the odd text about returning each others’ things. It was obvious he had moved on, and here you were, filling up his voicemail with blubbering messages and making references to adolescent books.

“God, sorry about this.” You breathed out a watery chuckle. “I just…didn’t want to be alone, I guess. But that’s-um-not your problem anymore, so I’m—I’m sorry. Have a nice night.” Your voice cracked and you hung up before you could start weeping down the line. You didn’t need to look even more pathetic.

You pulled your phone away from your ear, looking down at his contact photo through blurred vision. He was smiling—not the tight, closed lip smile he gave other people, but a full, bright smile that had his dimples showing. One of your hands was wrapped loosely around his neck and the other was holding your phone just far enough away to capture both of your smiles. Your head was rested on top of his shoulder, tilted just slightly to the left so your temple was brushing against his.

It felt like looking at a vintage photograph—you knew those people and their happiness existed at some point in time, but it wasn’t tangible; you couldn’t verify it was real.

When you were with Spencer, you never doubted how real it was. All you had to was look at him across the room and he’d flash you a smile identical to the one in that photo and you’d just…know.

It felt like forever ago now that you’d been on the receiving end of that grin and it killed you. So much so that before you could consider the repercussions, you were trudging through to your kitchen and grabbing the bottle of whiskey that sat unopened in your cabinet. It had been a present—from Rossi, actually. When Spencer had first introduced you to the team, the older man had given it to you as something of a welcome gift. Of course, he couldn’t have known you weren’t much of a drinker, and since you wanted to make a good impression (and because you were sure it had cost more than all the alcohol you had consumed in your life combined) you accepted it—deciding to save it for a rainy day.

You think this qualified.

You grabbed the bottle, a glass, and padded back through to your living room, slumping onto your couch. You filled your glass up a little less than halfway before gulping it down, enjoying the burn in your throat—it was better than the constant thickness.

You poured yourself another glass before turning on the TV. You weren’t sure what was playing—it didn’t really matter anyway, your vision was already being obscured by tears again.

You thought the pounding was in your head at first—serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Only, it wasn’t, because moments later the pounding subsided and instead, your apartment door was opening, casting your pitch-black living room in a yellow glow which temporarily blinded you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind hazy—again, serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Someone was calling your name, but there was too much sensory input for you to make out who.

You certainly hoped it wasn’t a paramedic—maybe your neighbour had heard you sobbing for the last four hours and decided you needed a wellness check. Then there were hands on your face, and that had you flicking your eyes open, because you recognised those hands—impossibly soft, with a callus on his trigger finger being the only thing to mar them. Spencer.

“Spencer?” You slurred.

He sighed in exasperation (or relief) and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Are you alright? You weren’t answering your phone, I thought…” He trailed off, worry evident in his voice.

You sat up then, trying to compose yourself even though the room was spinning. Fucking whiskey. You rubbed your eyes haphazardly, blinking until you could finally see.

You should’ve stayed bleary-eyed. Because nothing could prepare you for the way your breath hitched when you finally saw him. After months of not seeing each other, Spencer was here, sitting on your couch, and he was looking at you like you were something fragile, and—God, you needed another drink. You turned away from him, reaching for the neck of the bottle as you spoke.

“I’m fine.”

Before you could lift it up, Spencer gently pried your hand away from the bottle with his own, and then slid it across the coffee table with his other.

“You’re drunk. No more of that, please.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but he left no room to argue. You probably would’ve objected anyway, if it weren’t for the way he kept his hand clasped around yours, rubbing soothing circles into your pulse point almost absentmindedly.

You glanced up to him—to stop yourself from staring at your hand in his and how natural it felt, more than anything—but that proved to be a mistake too, because he looked just as beautiful as thirty seconds prior and it felt just as natural for him to be sitting next to you on your sofa, but it wasn’t natural anymore.

“How did you get in?”

“My key.”

“Oh.”

Right. The key that he still had because you refused to meet up with him to let him return it. He tried for weeks to contact you, but you ignored him, because getting the key back meant things were finally over. You supposed he could return it now—maybe that’s why he came in the first place.

“Why did you come?” You asked, your voice impossibly small.

“You called.” He replied—as though he was talking about something as simple as the weather. You call and I come.

You searched in his eyes for any sign of a lie, but of course, there was none. He was being completely genuine—as always. You were the awful ex-girlfriend who left concerning voicemails on his phone and had him travelling to your apartment in the middle of the night only for him to look completely okay with the situation—like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than making sure you were safe.

You couldn’t help the way tears sprung to your eyes or your lip began to tremble as you lolled your head back onto the couch, pulling your gaze away from his.

“Angel, what’s wrong?”

You liked to consider yourself to be a strong person. You had been through things in your life that were objectively worse than your breakup with Spencer, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the way he had let one of his many (past) petnames for you slip had your throat tightening and you ducked your head into your one hand—the other still seized by Spencer’s—to try and muffle a sob.

“Hey,” He trailed his hand that was wrapped around yours up your arm, all the way to your shoulder blade before lightly guiding you towards him. You don’t have enough energy in you to fight his magnetic pull, so you shuffle over until you can bury your head into his shirt. You inhale his scent; vanilla, neroli, and so him it makes you ache.

Stopping your tears is futile—you’d know, they’d barely ceased all night—so you just let them fall, seeping into Spencer’s tie as he rubs one hand softly up and down your back, the other cradling the crown of your head.

His breathing is quiet and slow—the exact opposite of yours—and you try to imitate it—forcing air into your lungs. When your sobbing has turned to shaky breathing and the occasional sniffle, he speaks up.

“Do you want to talk?”

Talk about what? About what had happened today—what had led you to calling him? Talk about how for the last few months, he had been the only person you had wanted to call?

“No.” You hated how pitiful you sounded.

“Okay.”

Spencer didn’t say anything else for a minute—your synchronised breathing being the only thing to stop the room from falling into dead silence.

“You need to rehydrate.” He murmured, smoothing down your hair.

You hummed into him, in no hurry to unwrap yourself from his body. You probably wouldn’t get to be this close to him again, after all.

He moved both of his hands to your biceps, pulling you back slightly so you could look at him. He knitted his brows together in a silent plea which had you rolling your eyes petulantly, your lashes still damp from tears.

“Fine.” You peeled yourself off of him, pushing yourself into a standing position. Horrible mistake. You were still incredibly drunk, turns out, and everything was spinning a little bit and come to think of it, you were also nauseous and—

“Careful, lovely.” Spencer placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you upright.

and—actually, you were fine now.

He stood too, moving his hand just slightly over to your waist so he could guide you to the kitchen. When he knew you could stand upright—even if you were relying mostly on the counter behind you—he grabbed a glass from your cabinet, moving around effortlessly to pour you some water. The sight was so domestic you almost wanted to cry again. Maybe in some alternate timeline, where you and him could’ve worked, this would be an every day thing—minus the drunk sobbing part, of course.

He handed you the glass of water, watching as you took a few sips. He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly.

“Whole thing, please.”

You let out an exasperated (affectionate) sigh and gulped the rest of it down, setting it on the counter behind you.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

You smirked, trailing your gaze down his body. He was still in his work clothes which, at the very least, meant he wasn’t on a date before he came here. He always changed before dates—well, for you, anyway. You wondered if he had been on any dates since the breakup—you certainly hadn’t. It had been long enough now that it wouldn’t be weird for you to start seeing other people—but you didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you’d ever want to, to be completely honest.

The more you thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed stupid. You didn’t want anyone else, you wanted Spencer. You had tried to get over him but if tonight was any indication—it clearly wasn’t working. You can’t even remember why you broke up in the first place—it all seemed so insignificant now. No amount of pain you had ever experienced in your relationship had come close to that of living without him.

You met his eyes once more and it was like he could see the question brewing. He tried to stop you, calling your name in a quiet warning, but you ignored him.

“Why did we break up?”

He frowned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue in that maddening way he did.

“I—you know why—“

“No, but I don’t! I know things were difficult sometimes but that doesn’t mean it didn’t work. It worked—we worked.” Your eyes were stinging again.

Spencer pressed his index and middle finger into his eye, furrowing his brows.

“I know, I know we worked, angel—but you were sad all the time, remember? I was gone so often and it wasn’t good for you.” His true emotions were indecipherable but his tone was soft, and you wished you could be as calm about this as him. Did he just not care as much as you did?

“But It’s—It’s worse now—“ You choked out, tears falling freely now. “I was sad when you were gone, but you always came back—you don’t come back anymore.”

Spencer removed his hand from his face, flexing it at his side like he was uncertain what to do with himself before taking a stride towards you. He brought a hand to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes delicately—like you were made of porcelain.

“Listen, sweetheart—alcohol affects your ability to regulate your emotions and I know right now it might feel worse but that doesn’t mean it always—“

“Spencer, stop! It’s not the fucking alcohol, I miss you! I miss you all of the time! Even—even when I’m having a good day—I still want you—and especially when I—when I have a bad day—“ You choked out through heaving breaths.

“Breathe.” He urges, cupping your cheek. And you’re so, so angry, and sad, and tired that you have no choice but to shut up and listen to him. When you’ve adequately calmed down, he moves his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I don’t think we should talk about this tonight but I—“ You open your mouth to protest.

“I promise we can talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober—if you still want to.”

Your lip trembles of its own volition and you frown.

“Of course I want to.”

“Okay,”

“Okay.”

He gives your eyes a final wipe before he’s—rather unexpectedly—pulling you into a hug. You all but melt into him, your head finding its home in his sternum and your arms wrapping around his middle. He tilts his head down, kissing the top of your head—and you’re certain you can’t let this go again. You will chain him down before Spencer leaves this apartment again.

Everything is wordless from there—mostly because you’re so, so exhausted that even talking seems like too difficult a task. Spencer helps you find something more comfortable to change into and you pull out an old t-shirt of his and a pair of plaid pyjama pants you had kept here for him. I guess your keeping them ‘just in case you needed them in the future’ had come in handy, after all.

As you washed your face, Spencer snuck through to the kitchen, refilling your water and grabbing two aspirin in a not-so-subtle attempt to help the inevitable hangover you were going to have in the morning.

You caught him placing them on your bedside table and mock gasped.

“Trying to drug me in my sleep so you can make a run for it in the night?”

He grinned lazily—exhaustion creeping up on him as well.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You smiled, flopping yourself onto your bed rather ungraciously. Spencer looked at you like you were something fascinating before biting his lip, clearly deep in thought.

“What?” You let out a self-effacing little chuckle.

“I was just…wondering…if you’d like me to sleep on the couch?”

You probably should’ve been more careful in your facial expressions considering you were still broken up but your thoughts about that offer were obvious.

“No, stay.” Stay in your bed, in your apartment—stay anywhere that was close to you.

Maybe you were coming on a little too strong.

“Unless you want to, I mean—“

“No, no—I’ll stay.” Forever, preferably.

He walked around to the other side of your bed—as he had done so many times before—and sat down, pulling the covers over his legs. You mirrored his movements before flicking your bedside lamp out, turning to face him.

You were a little thankful you were so out of it, because this had the potential to be very awkward otherwise. Spencer shuffled down so that he was at eye level with you, turning to face you as well.

You just stared for a moment, committing him to memory. The moonlight had a way of highlighting all the high points of his face, and the twinkle in his eyes, and—God, you were so glad the moon existed and that Spencer was in your bed that you couldn’t help but giggle.

“What?” Spencer laughed along with you, even though he had no idea what was so funny.

“Nothing. You’re pretty.”

“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Why?”

“Scared you’ll be gone when I wake up—like I made it all up.”

Spencer’s smile faded then, and he looked at you with something that seemed so much like the one thing you had been willing yourself to stop doing the whole time that you’d been broken up, that it almost took your breath away.

“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I?”

You nodded.

“So there’s nothing to worry about. Now get some sleep, lovely.”

You smiled, feeling Spencer’s hand inching towards yours. He intertwined them and gave yours a squeeze.

“Just in case you make a run for it in the night.”

You chuckled, your eyelids fluttering shut. Yeah, you could make it work.

part two!

[gggukniverse]

take me down slow | jjk

title: take me down slow

pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader

genre: m, smut, established relationship au

summary: jungkook is back home from work and even if you've missed him a lot, you let him rest tonight. though, out of all night, you have a wet dream tonight. and even if jungkook is tired, he's happy to take care of you.

warnings: dom!jk sub!reader, needy reader and sleepy koo 🥹, a little bit of oral (m receiving), a little bit of fingering too, unprotected sex (pls be safe), degradation (jk calls reader a whore like one time), daddy kink, kink discovery, creampie, just basically some lazy sleepy sex... until it's not so lazy.

wordcount: 2.2k

note: HELLO !!! 🫡 this is just a little story i wrote a long time ago and since part 3 of basic needs is still a work in progress i wanted to give you something to read while you wait :) this one is not edited at all so don't expect the greatest thing. either way, i hope you enjoy it 🩷

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you open your eyes with a gasp and when you take in the dark room you realize it was just a dream. it felt too real. you can almost still feel jungkook”s hands all over your body, well, you kind of actually feel them now.

jungkook is fast asleep by your side, your legs tangled together while your arm is thrown over his middle and his is wrapped around your waist to keep you close to him even in his unconscious state.

he came home from work yesterday, it’s been almost four weeks since the last time you two were together but that’s what being an international star does to his schedule. he got home late in the afternoon and you only got to prepare dinner together and share a comfortable and much needed talk during dinner before he said he was so jet lagged and he needed to go to sleep. you needed him so bad but didn’t say a word, just went to bed with him and fell asleep together.

but out of all nights, you had to have a stupid wet dream tonight.

you’re actually sweating, your skin is hot and your underwear is starting to feel uncomfortable because you can feel it’s soaked. and jungkook is sleeping. he’s peacefully sleeping with his pouty mouth and furrowed eyebrows. you feel so bad but you need him even more, so you guess you can feel bad about it tomorrow morning.

you shift a little and get closer to his neck, giving his skin sweet little kisses as you slowly start to rut your hips against him to try and find any kind of friction on your crotch. like a bitch in heat, that’s what you feel like.

a groan escapes jungkook’s mouth at one specific suck to the side of his neck and his hand twitches where it’s placed on your waist.

“baby.” you whisper in his ear.

“yeah...” he only groans with that sleepy rasp to his voice you missed so much.

“i’m so horny.” you whine as you keep rutting against his hip.

that comment alone seems to wake jungkook up. he lifts his head a little to look down at you with what you suppose is an arched eyebrow, the little light in the room coming from the city lights through the window.

“baby.. .” he says and drops his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes again. he’s tired. you feel so bad.

“i’m sorry, i.. fuck..” you feel like crying but god, you’re so horny you don’t even think your brain is working anymore.

“it’s okay, baby.” jungkook mumbles and his hand that was on your waist goes down to squeeze one of your asscheeks out of nowhere, making you whimper on his neck.

“kook.. so horny..”

“mhm.. i know.” you swear if he keeps talking with that raspy voice you could come completely untouched.

“want you so bad.” your hand goes down to cup him over his sweatpants. he’s soft but you can definitely feel him twitching a little at the contact.

“make me hard, baby.” jungkook squeezes your asscheek again, making you moan.

“yes!” you quickly get up on your knees and throw the comforter away from his body, wasting no time in pushing his sweats down.

“good girl.” your boyfriend praises, his hand going to your hair when you bend over to blow air on his soft dick teasingly.

“missed you so much,” you take him into your hand and start giving his head little licks, feeling it slowly starting to harden on your hand. “missed your cock in my mouth.”

“missed your mouth too.” jungkook hums as he brushes your hair out of your face so he can see you.

“you’re so hot..” you whine when you feel him getting to full hardness just in a matter of seconds. you put it in your mouth, your lips wrapping around him and drowning in the groan that escapes jungkook’s mouth.

“that’s my girl.” the praise makes you so wet you could feel it running down your thighs if your underwear wasn’t soaking all of it.

you bob your head a few times to get him wet enough and pull away with a desperate moan, “kook, i need you.”

“i know, come here.” he pats his thighs. you work quickly, sitting down on his thighs and leaning down to catch his lips in a desperate kiss, trying not to grind against his cock.

“i love you.”

“i love you too baby,” jungkook chuckles fondly against your mouth. “c’mon, sit that pretty pussy on this cock, yeah?” he gives you one last kiss before putting his hands on your waist lifting the big shirt —his shirt— so he can take it off.

you’re only wearing your panties so as soon as the shirt hits the floor, jungkook groans at the sight even through te darkness in the room.

“pretty baby.” he praises, running his hands up and down your sides as you sit back on his thighs.

“i’m so wet.” you mutter, looking down at where you’re sitting in one of his thighs.

“yeah, can fucking feel it,” jungkook says. “would make you ride my thigh, but i want you on my cock,” he easily lifts you up by your hips and positions you on top of him. “take them off.”

you sit up for a second to take the ruined panties off and throw them away before sitting back down on top of him, your most sensitive part just above his cock.

“let me feel you,” jungkook brings one of his hands down and you choke on a moan when his fingers start running through your wet folds. “fuck yeah, that’s my whore, huh?”

“kook,” you whimper, grinding your hips against his hand. “fuck yes...” a little moan escapes through your lips when he slips two fingers inside.

“so little resistance, are you this needy for cock?” jungkook hums in question and you almost cry out as he slips another finger inside. you don’t tell him you’ve been using toys while he was away. either way, his fingers always feel better than any toy.

“yes, need your cock baby.”

“c’mon, sit on it.” he gives your pussy a wet slap that makes your thighs twitch for a second and then grabs the base of his cock to make it easier for you.

“okay.” you whisper and lower down, positioning on top of his cock and moaning absurdibly high when jungkook decides to drag the head of his cock through your folds.

“so wet.” he mumbles.

you think you might die if you don’t have him inside you now so you start to sink down on his cock slowly, both of you moaning in unison, until you’re sitting on top of him with his entire length inside.

“missed you so much.” you whine, feeling like you could cry.

“i missed you too baby,” he puts his hands on your hips. “so much.”

you stay there for a while, just feeling him inside as you bend down to kiss him again. he wraps his arms around you and kisses you back with so much passion you’re out of breath seconds later.

“pretty.” he looks up at you with that type of smile that makes your knees weak and you straighten up again, putting your hands on his chest for balance.

“you feel so good, kook.” you tell him because you need him to know.

“mh... yeah?” asshole.

“yes.” you moan and start grinding your hips for your pleasure, still not giving him what he wants.

“i can’t fucking see anything right now but i’m sure you’re creaming my cock so good, right?” the words make you clench around him with a whine and you hear him groan at the feeling. “so fucking tight.”

but you eventually sit up a little, letting him pull out until only his head is inside you and slowly sink down on him again. you do it slowly, still tired from how little you must’ve slept, but jungkook seems fine with it. little hums and groans escape his mouth sometimes but the time he lets out a high-pitched moan you clench so hard around him, making him moan again and grip on your hips for dear life.

“baby, god...” he breathes out. it’s clear he’s still sleepy, but it’s so fucking hot.

you lose yourself the moment his tip grazes against that spot, your hips grinding desperately for him to keep hitting it. but jungkook helps you by bending his legs a little, planting his feet on the mattress and starting to thrust up into you.

hard. you didn’t think he could be on his full potential when he’s as sleepy as he is now, but he proves you wrong fucking you so hard that you fall on top of him, your bare chest against his clothed one. yes, also the fact that he’s still half clothed and you’re completely naked makes you even wetter. but he’s slow, he gives your deep and hard thrusts but still doesn’t do it fast.

“oh my– fuck...” you breathe out against his neck, not being able to move anymore.

“feels good, baby?” he doesn’t stop fucking you, his hands also pulling your hips down to meet his thrusts so hard you know you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.

“yes daddy,” the word slips out of your mouth before you can even process it and you feel jungkook stopping completely. “fuck...” you whisper and hide your face on his neck in embarrassment. “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i said that.”

“daddy?” jungkook asks and you hate the way you don’t know what he’s thinking right now.

“i’m so sorry... fuck, that was so weird– i’m sorry baby.”

“no, let daddy hear you baby.” he suddenly starts thrusting up inside you and you let out a scream.

“kook! oh my god!” he’s fast now. fast and hard. your whole body is completely limp on top of his.

“that’s not my name, babe.”

oh fuck.

“d– daddy..” you stutter because you can’t even form words right now.

“there you go.” he chuckles and fuck, how can he chuckle while fucking you so hard, you can’t even form a single thought in your brain right now.

“fuck!” you whine when his tip keeps brushing against that sweet spot. “i’m so– i’m so close, daddy.”

“gonna cum?” he hums.

“yeah...” you cry out and the chuckle he lets out makes you clench incredibly hard around his cock.

“gonna cum on daddy’s cock?”

“fuck! yeah... yes, yes, please.” you mumble dumbly, feeling closer and closer everytime he speaks.

“please what?” jungkook hums as his hips keep that punishing pace that has you seeing stars.

“please let me cum,” you beg. “please daddy.”

“cum for me, baby.”

your orgasm washes over your whole body like a wave, leaving your legs shaking as you fall completely limp on top of his body while he keeps thrusting to cum just a few seconds after.

“fuck...” jungkook groans as he fills you up, the sensation making you squirm a little on top of him. “that’s my good girl.” he mumbles as he rubs your back up and down soothingly.

“i missed you.” you say and finally lift your head up to leave a little kiss on his lips.

“i missed you too baby,” you can see his smile even through the dark. “i’m gonna turn us around, okay?” he warns and you just nod, letting him hug your waist to flip you two around so that he’s the one on top.

“it’s gonna be messy.” you giggle as he positions himself on his knees to pull out.

“it’s okay, i’ll change the sheets now.” jungkook shrugs and starts to pull out, making you hiss a little in discomfort but sigh when you instantly feel his cum spilling out of you and straight onto the sheets.

you can’t help but giggle again when jungkook sits back and looks down, like he’s admiring the view.

“like what you see... daddy?” you tease as you slide your hand down your body until you get to your pussy and slip two fingers inside.

“you don’t know what you’re doing to me.” he rubs his hands up and down your thighs as he keeps his eyes down where you’re gathering some of his cum with your fingers. a low groan leaves his mouth when you bring your messy fingers to your mouth and suck on them, tasting him on them.

“missed your taste.”

“you better stop that shit before i get hard again,” he warns you and you break in laughter. “wanna have a quick shower?” he asks.

“yeah, i’m a little sweaty and i feel gross.” you nod as you sit up. he nods.

“mh, i’ll change the sheets while you shower, okay? i’ll join you in a minute.”

“okay.” you smile and lean closer to him to steal another sweet kiss before getting up from the bed and making your way to the bathroom, turning the lights on first.

“baby.”

you turn around at that and jungkook looks up and down your naked body before saying, “i really missed you.”

you smile. “i missed you too.”

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A/N: i hope you liked this story !!!!! please feel free to comment or send me an ask telling me what you thought of it, feedback helps a lot ! see you in the next one :) 🫂💐

[chatterbox-73]

Smut book 2024.

After hours.

Tenya Iida x fem!Reader.

This story is a smut story, I’ll more characters x reader one shots in the future and if you want to see a character please let me know.

You must be 18 years or older to read this...

🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞

A/N: this is a request and I honestly love it… I’m a total sucker for Iida… I hope I did it justice.😅

@123344myah

Also I’ve changed the name of a certain phone app because firstly I kinda don’t think they’d have SC in the mha universe, secondly don’t think I should be using TM names and finally why the heck not…😁 Pictalk = SC. (I know real creative..😂)

Pictures is edited be me… it’s been sitting in my gallery for some time, waiting for the right chance to be used. (Original unedited manga panel from ‘tada no renai nanka de kikkonai’)

Summary: you sneak into Iida’s dorm room for some after hours funny and getting caught is the last thing on your mind.

Word count: 4.1k

CW: NSFW and adult content, oral (f!Receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, sexting, sending nudes, rough sex, missionary and doggy, teasing, pet names, pleasure dom!Iida, spanking, slight degradation and swearing. (All characters are aged up)

You sat at the small floor table in the middle of your boyfriend’s dorm room, you watched intently as the man sitting across from you wrote large and seemingly unending paragraphs, while your own workbook remanded bare. The man looked up from his page to you with a curious look, “is something the matter?” He asked looking down at your book noticing it’s emptiness, while focused on your book you leant over and pressed a lingering kiss on his lips, “I just need to do that, I couldn’t focus until I got a taste” you smiled and licked your lips, the man looked at you with shock before sitting back and resting on his palm, “you know I’ll need payback now” Iida spoke as he look at you lips that had your lipstick smeared over them.

Tenya iida was such a reliable and caring boyfriend, he always took such good care of you and expected nothing in return, however he has always been quite prideful and this has resulted in him frequently trying to get even, it doesn’t matter how small the incident, he’s incredibly petty but you honestly love it about him, though you probably wouldn’t say it. Tenya often gets quite embarrassed by affection and will almost always shy away from it, but in small moments the man will soothe and comfort you.

You’re broken from your thoughts as you feel Iida’s callus thumb rub over your bottom lip, he wiped away the smudged lipstick before holding your chin and leaning in, however just before your lips had a chance to touch Iida’s dorm room door open suddenly, you both jumped away from each other and looked to the door, “now I’m certain there’s a ‘open door’ rule for when you’re studying with girls…” aizawa sighed as he looked at Iida with a tired expression. “Yes, I now remember that rule being mentioned, once or twice” Iida looked to you and all you could do was snicker, “yep, sounds about right” you cough out as you begin gathering your books and stationary from the table, you stood and quickly left the room with all your belongings, as you exited the room you heard Aizawa tell Iida it was lights out, before you could run off however the teacher stopped you, “straight to your dorm room… and no coming back here, study is over it’s lights out” he closed Iida’s door and turned to look at you, you nod “I haven’t had a chance to bathe, can I do that before I go to sleep?” You asked and the man sighs, it didn’t take a fortune teller to guess what you’d try and do, but Aizawa figured he should give you the benefit of the doubt, he should trust you, “fine… you can bathe, but no funny business… not tonight” he huffed and walked away muttering something about an argument between Midoriya and Bakugo.

You got back into your dorm room and packed away all your books and stationary before grabbing your bath bag, night clothes and towel, before making the trip to the bathroom. Getting into the bathroom you pulled out your phone and placed it on the side of the bathtub while you turned on the water waiting for the tub to fill, as you waited you undressed and began scrubbing your body at one of the washing stations, as you finished the bath water was full and you settled in.

You leaned your head back with your eyes closed for quite sometime before pulling out your phone and scrolling through it, watching random videos before a Pictalk notification popped in the top corner of your screen, clicking it a picture of a dark room with the caption that read

‘how much trouble did you get in?’

You smiled and snapped a picture of the steamy bathroom mirror and captioned it with.

‘None really… just a “don’t come back here, study is over >:(“‘

You chuckled and pulled yourself out of the water, sitting on the edge of the tub still allowing your legs to soak, another notification popped up and you clicked into it. It was of Iida’s neatly made bed.

‘Haha… you’re only bathing now?’

You smiled and shook your head, before taking a picture of your bare legs resting in the water.

‘Yeah, someone kept me busy with studying’

You watched the speech bubble in the messages pop up before disappearing and reappearing several times before finally you received a picture response, this picture was of Iida pulling a playful frown.

‘Are you trying to start something?’

You laughed at his expression before stepping out of the bath and emptying the water, as the bath drained you walked over to the mirror and wiped away a little of the steam, only leaving enough to cover below your hips, you stood in front of the mirror and covered a hand over your breasts before smiling and taking a picture, you send the picture with the caption.

‘start something? But I’m a good girl’

You waited patiently for Iida’s response while you dried yourself, then came in the next picture, Iida had also sent a picture of him standing in his mirror shirtless and one hand resting over his clothes crotch. The picture was captioned.

‘You’re testing my patience baby’

You smiled and wondered how far you could take this before one of you got impatient, though the way things are going anyone else would think Iida was moments away from giving in but that just wasn’t the case and the both of you knew it, you wipe down the rest of the mirror before sitting back on the ground and open your legs, you rubbed two fingers over your entrance before sliding them in, you took a picture of yourself through the mirror, with your best ‘O’ face and the caption.

‘So warm and wet…’

You waited and as you did your fingers worked in and out of you before moving to rubbed your clit, moaning you almost didn’t hear your phone chime, opening the picture you blushed and chuckled as you saw Iida’s long and thick member on the screen, he only have two fingers wrapped around the base, this time no caption was with the picture. However a voice note was sent moments later.

“I bet that pussy is nice and ready, you always are”

You heard the chuckle and groan in his voice and you knew exactly what he was doing while sending that voice note, you sent back a voice note.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours”

Iida knew exactly what you were asking but instead all you got back was nothing, no voice note, no picture, not even a message, you scrambled to get dressed in your night clothes and grabbed your belongings. You walk down to the laundry room and put your clothes and towel in the washing machine, and left your bath bag next to the machine you were using, after this you wasted no time going to Iida’s dorm room.

You opened the door and walked in, the room was dark and as you looked towards Iida’s bed you noticed he was laying back with his blanket over him, he was fully dress in his goofy pyjamas, he looked as though he wasn’t just sending you dirty messages, “Tenya… Tenya you need to be awake” you whispered and walked over to him, you knew he wasn’t asleep, you had seen him sleep plenty of times so you knew he was awake, “Tenya sit up and take care of me” you whined as you grabbed at his pyjama top, the man chuckled as he sat up and looked down at you, “you’re such a greedy girl… we were told lights out and yet you’re here because of a picture” Iida sighed and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, “I guess it can’t be helped… strip for me please” he smiled and you stood and moved to take off your shirt before stopping and looking to your boyfriend, “what about you?” You asked and Iida frowned “I said strip” he snapped and you quickly began removing your shirt, Iida nodded and looked at your breasts before he moved to sit on the edge of the bed, he motioned for you to step closer to him, so he could grab your arms and pressed them into your sides, your face became flushed as Iida trailed his tongue up your stomach to your sternum, he stopped and placed a kiss on your skin before moving to lick over your right nipping, you whined and pressed your legs together, before the man moved onto your other nipping this time suckling on it, “you’re sucking it like a baby” you breathlessly chuckled, Iida looked up at you with a hard stare before biting roughly on the side of your breast, you yelped and your boyfriend pulled you down slightly to capture your lips in an open mouth kiss, you gasped and cried out in surprise as Iida tongue took control over your mouth, the way he’s slurp and wriggle his tongue reminded you of all the times he’d eat you out.

Pulling away from you and loosing his grip, allowing his hand to slide down your arms and rest on your hips before he slowly pulled down your pants, leaving you in nothing but the pink girlish panties you’d normally never let Tenya see. “Aww how cute” he laughed as he kissed just above your waistband, “it’s not funny, I didn’t think when I grabbed them” you whined and felt Iida move you onto his bed to lay down on your back, “I think they’re cute… they’re so innocent and sweet” he smiled as he leaned in and whispered in your ear “reminds me of our first time… you were such a good girl, so patient” his voice was hushed and relaxed as he slowly pulled your panties to the side before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss over your entrance, “how badly do you want it greedy girl?” Iida asked, his hot breath brushing over your cunt, you whined and wiggled your hips “so badly… I need it” you moaned softly, trying to keep your voice down.

You cried out as you felt your boyfriend’s tongue lick slow strips up the length of your cunt, “more… Tenya, I need more…” you whimpered encouraging your boyfriend, Iida was a beast the way he’d devour you, you were certain given the chance Iida would eat you anywhere and anytime, he’d always put his all into eating you, he’d lick; suck and slurp, Iida was a shameless man when it came to having you on his tongue, he’d say the most vile and lewd things you’d ever heard from him, it was honestly pornography the things he’d come out with; and this time was no different.

“You taste like heaven… if men knew just how sweet you tasted, they’d be on their knees praying to you” he groaned as he licked between your folds, before wriggling his tongue inside you, “I’d lick your cunt raw if only you’d let me… I’d eat you every minute of the day and only take breaks to fuck you” he moaned into you before kissing up to your clit before wrapping his lips around it and suckling on it for dear life, you cried out loudly completely foregetting where you were, “tenya I’m… I’m…” you arched you back and wrapped your legs around Iida’s head as you grabbed roughly at his neatly groomed hair, “…oh god… yes tenya… yes…” you whimpered as your body seized up and you began coming undone on your boyfriend’s mouth, he groaned and moved back your entrance, sliding his tongue back into you as his fingers began rubbing quickly over your clit, “holy fuck… ten… oh tenya” you gasped as you started to and push Iida away, however he only continued. You took a sharp breath in, then took another and another, before suddenly losing the ability to breath, it took Iida only a few seconds to realise what was happening behind he moved up to you and brushed your hair from your face, “breath baby, breath out” he encouraged as his thumb rubbed soft circles on your jaw, you breathed out quickly before sucking in a deep breath, while Iida continued encouraging you.

Once fully calm your boyfriend chuckled and settled himself between your legs, “that was scary… you wanna continue?” He asked as he leant back down ready to pick up where he left off, “I wanna… but not like that… I wanna have you inside me” you hummed as you pulled off your underwear and opened your legs as wide as you could, “I want it all inside, to the base Tenya” you used your fingers to spread your folds apart as your laid back and waited for your boyfriend. Iida watched your cunt intensely as it squeezed around nothing, before he pulled off his shirt and pulled his throbbing cock from his pants, shifting the fabric down only enough for him to hang comfortably, the man pumped himself slowly and reached into his bedside table for a condom before rolling down his shaft and spitting on himself rubbing his saliva over his shaft, he than leant down and spat a large ball of saliva over your entrance, “hmmm… nice and wet… you’ll take it all in one now” he hummed as he prodded at your hole with his tip, pushing his saliva in and out, getting his tip wet.

Iida watched your cunt grip him tightly as he began to slowly slide in, once his cock was fully hilted inside you, you both moaned and Iida pressed his forehead against yours, “god fucking damn it… it feels good” he huffed out a string of cusses and rubbed your hips with his thumb as he waited for you to encourage him to move.

Iida had always been a giver, though he disguised it as petty payback… which it partly was… however with that being said Iida was always safe, he never acted reckless or overdid it, though this time was different.

Your hands grabbed Iida’s thick biceps as he gave you long and hard thrusts that caused the bed to thump into the wall, “Christ… you’re perfect” he moaned and grabbed a hold of your legs, he looked down at where the two of you met and smiled, watching the way your walls and opening clung to him so tightly, creating a delicious drag however because of this it was almost too hard for him to set an even pace, “please… more… I need it harder” you moaned as you dug your nails into he’s shoulders, Iida chuckled and began a strong pace. The man groaned and moaned as he held you down while he pushed into you a little bit harder and faster with every thrust, he’d moaned out obscenities while you simply took in the view, you’d finished several times already on his cock and looking down you could see a white ring form around the base of Iida’s cock, “Tenya… Tenya wait” you whine and place a hand on his chest to push him back, “what’s the matter? Is it starting to hurt? Should we stop?” He asked as he pulled out and grabbed the side of your cheek, you shook your head and leaned up “I’m fine, but I know you’ve been holding out for so long… so I want you to enjoy yourself a little” you hummed as you turn over and push your ass up into the air while pressing your face and chest into Iida’s mattress. Iida moved in and began looking over your wet folds, he rubbed his thumb over your cunt before using it to open you up for himself, “baby I’m always happy just giving you whatever you need, but this…” he groaned as he rubbed his tip over your clit, “you really want me to take what I need?” He questioned and you moaned, nodding your head and looking back at him, “I’m beyond satisfied, now I need to feel you cum” you whined as you reached back and grabbed a hold of the condom cover your boyfriend, before you began pulling it off him, the man moaned only to then quickly thrust into you once you pulled the condom completely off and discarded it on the floor, you grasped as Iida set into a brutal pace faster and harder then before, roughly holding your hips to stop your for jolting forward into the headboard, he’d roll his hips every so often and tried to get as deep as your body would allow him.

“I’m gonna cum so deep in you… I’m gonna use you up so no one else will want you” iida moaned as he threw his head back and grabbed at your ass cheeks, harshly smacking them every so often, “you dirty whore… you want that, don’t you?” Another harsh smack followed this and you responded with nothing but a whine. You can’t seem to form a coherent sentence, all that comes out of you is a jumble of words followed by moaning and whining, you were enjoying this, enjoying this more than maybe you should’ve been, “you’re squeezing so tightly…” Iida hummed as he further picked up his pace, he let out a laugh as he grabbed your waist and pulled you back into his thrusts, you could feel him twitching and pulsing with each thrust, “you sure you want it inside… cause if you don’t… I… I won’t” he moaned grinding his hips into you, “yes… god yes… inside please… Tenya please!” You cried loud before quickly having your face shoved into Iida’s pillows, “baby I love hearing your voice but shut the fuck up” he groaned as he held your head in place, while continuing his vicious assault on your cunt. Iida’s breaths become uneven and he lets go of your head and move his hand back to your ass, he grabbed at the flesh and watched as he began long quick, yet uneven thrusts. “Fuck baby, fuck…” he huffed as his hip’s faulted and snapped in towards you, you felt him shutter, soon an indescribable warmth filled your belly, your legs shook and your cunt squeezed uncontrollably, causing Iida to pulled out and begin fingering you, working you through your final orgasm of the night. “Shit… shit baby…” Iida sighed as he sat back on his bed, you crawled over to him weakly and climbed into his lap, “we fucked up… I shouldn’t have let you take it off… I should’ve kept the condom on” he huffed as he rested his head back against the wall, “it’s okay, I’m on the pill” you smiled however Iida did not return that smile, “it doesn’t matter… it was still so reckless of me… to allow you to seduce me into such dangerous play…” he hummed and hugged into you and pressed his face into your neck, “you make me a truly weak man” he sighed and began kissing your neck, “let’s not risk doing it raw again, I’m not a strong enough man for that just yet” he moaned and you couldn’t help but laugh, here was the overly serious and proper boyfriend you fell head over heels in love with, “we could always go one more round, I don’t feel full enough yet” you joked and felt Iida bite your neck before sitting up and frowning at you, “okay, I’ll stop… though it was nice” you hum and quickly stand up, walking into the toilet in the room, “I need a washcloth tenya” you call and heard the man stand from the bed before walking into the toilet with a wet washcloth, “do you need help darling?” Iida passed you the cloth and you nodded as you took it, “yeah it’s pretty deep in, I can’t possibly reach it” you said with a wide smirk, Iida sighed and knelt down “alright I’ll help you”.

_

You sat in class as All Might finished up giving his feedback on today class, he finally ended his little lecture and dismissed the class but before anyone could stand and leave for the dormitory Aizawa stopped everyone as if he had been waiting outside the classroom door just for All Might to finish, “Bakugo, Midoriya, Iida and L/n, all of you are to stay back” he spoke before letting everybody else leave, All might gave Midoriya a nervous look before leaving himself. All four of you sat facing Aizawa as he sat down on the stool that had been moved into the classroom after he’d lost his leg, “now Bakugo and Midoriya, you both know fighting at school outside of training is prohibited and to fight in the dormitory is next level irresponsible, both of you will have two weeks of after class detention… now get out of my site” he grumbled and both boy stood, beginning to leave, however Midoriya stop near Iida and in a not so quiet whisper “I’ll wait for you out in the hallway” he smiled and Aizawa quickly piped in, “absolutely not… get back to the dormitory” he scolded and this made Midoriya scramble out the door, closing it behind him.

“Now you two, you know why I have you here… don’t you?” Aizawa crossed his arms and looked between the both of you, Iida swallowed as you tried your hardest to keep a straight face. “I have some ideas” your eyes shifted to the side and you smiled nervously, “very funny L/n, but maybe next time you decide to give Iida a past curfew visit make sure I’ve actually finished my rounds…” his frown deepened and you could feel your face go red, “it was quite a surprise to be finished up then suddenly heard a woman’s cries though the boy’s half of the dormitory” Aizawa looked towards Iida and from the corner of your eye, you could see your boyfriend struggling to make eye contact with the teacher, “and then all the banging of what I presume was your bed frame… but hey maybe I’m wrong and you were decorating, and you were just cheering on all his hard work” Aizawa’s face still held a straightness despite his very obvious frustration, “look, you can’t be doing that kind of stuff so freely and openly, if the wrong person heard that or even if someone was able to get a picture or video of you two… because you know how driven some of your classmates are…” Aizawa sighed and uncrossed his arms “if something like that happened to get out to the media, it’d ruin your careers before they have a chance to actually begin…” Aizawa spoke so calmly it was unnerving, he then looked at you and continued on “L/n the public wouldn’t see you as some sweet little sister anymore, you’d be seen as some whore who seduced an honest and just man…” his expression softened and you looked down in shame before he moved onto Iida, “and Iida, the public would start saying your a weak willed man, if you’re lucky… or they’d treat you like a monster for defiling a precious young woman” he said and leant back in his chair with a sigh, Aizawa pinched is nose bridge “you both need to be more careful, I’m not saying you can’t do that you’re both adults and will be out of here in a few months, but you need to think about your image, so no doing that here and no going to love hotels, doing it at one of your homes where your privacy is respected… and you’ll be having two weeks of detention with Midoriya and Bakugo” he grumbled and stood ready to leave, “get out of here, now” he said as he pointed to the door, both you and Iida speedily left the room as you both exited you had Aizawa muttered under his breath questioning how he hadn’t gone grey yet.

“I think it was worth it…” you said walking along side Iida and after a moment of silence the man chuckled, “yeah it was, I’m disappointed in us… but it definitely was worth it” he added and shook his head in amusement, “worth it enough to do it again” you smiled and grabbed Iida’s hand, “its tempting, but no… I’m pissed about the idea of all those guys hearing you” he said and brought the back of your hand up to his lips kissing it before the both of you walked back to your dorm laughing about everything.

[readychilledwine]

Could i request something where az and reader are mates. They have a huge fight and “break up” and reader leaves the court. She finds out that she is pregnant and writes him a letter. He never shows up so she thinks he doesn’t want the baby. Rhys visit the court she is in and sees her with a child maybe a couple months old. He is mad because she didn’t told him and when he ask her why she keeps his nephew away she tells him that she wrote az but he never answered. Rhys is mad and ask az what is up with him to just leave his pregnant mate. Unbeknownst to him that az was searching for her the whole time. Az tells him that he never got a letter and they find out that maybe elain burned it. It takes some time for them but they find their way back and just fluff azriel dad who teaches his son how to fly.

( you could write more angst between reader and az because of elain or you could use a maid or something who wants az)

Here Without You

Summary - Being a single mother was more painful than you'd ever thought it would be, especially when your son's father was just a court away.

Warnings - Angst, Elain showing those claws, single mom status, a child, PPD and the thoughts that come with it, **edited to add** cheating

A/N - I had one of my friends who is a single mom help me with this one while also imagining my life without baby daddy, and um, yeah. We cried a lot, so hopefully, you all do too.

*message from Liz regarding the ending at the end*

💙Peep my Azriel Masterlist Here💙

You had decided whatever you had done to offend the Mother must have been truly unforgettable and unforgivable as you sank against the wall of your family chambers in the Day Court Palace.

Being a new mother was the hardest thing you had ever and will ever do. You had finally gotten Nox down after 3 hours of fussing and tears, and now you waited. He'd sleep 2 hours if you were lucky, wake up crying, and you'd start the process over.

You had wished for your mate more times than you could count, but that bridge was long gone and burned. He had ensured of that by not coming when you wrote him, by not even bothering to write you a response.

The last fight between you and Azriel had been ugly. Glasses had been thrown, a bottle of wine knocked over in rage, cruel words you would both have to live with ringing in your ears like a scream. 350 years. Gone. Thrown away like garbage. All for Elain.

Selfish, plotting, destructive Elain.

You stood, body swaying with sleep deprivation setting in before sitting at the table where your now cold food set. You were too tired to eat, choosing to instead drink the water you had been desperately craving 4 hour ago.

You had wished you could turn it to wine, drink it with no consequences, and still feed Nox when he woke, but that was not the reality of the world. So, instead, you allowed the room temperature flavorless beverage to slide down your throat before moving like a ghost to the couch. There was no point in getting comfortable in your own bed. You would have to be up soon anyway. It wasn’t as if you had help.

You were alone.

And that wasn't even the most painful part of it.

The most painful part was setting in doubt. The growing disbelief that you weren't capable of this, that Nox deserved more, that you should have dropped him at the cabin you had no doubt Elain had moved into, leaving him with her and Azriel to allow you to-

You cut your brain off, refusing to put those words into a full thought. Refusing to believe that your disappearance or death was better for your son than this.

This had to be enough, you had to be enough, because Gods if it wasn't and you weren't, then what truly was the point in living any longer.

Helion entered your chambers the next morning, eyes falling to where you were sat on the floor, shoulders shaking as sobs tore through you. He placed a large warm hand on your shoulder before taking Nox from your arms. "I know I can not offer much of a break due to his feeding cycle, but when is the last time you ate a hot meal, y/n?"

You shook your head. He was 2 weeks old. You supposed it had been before labor. Since then, it had been moments begging for just a second of deep sleep. Moments begging for the Mother to help you, to guide you. Moments where those prayers went unanswered as if they were just thrown into a void. "I don't remember."

Helion could have killed Azriel for you, for Lucien, for Nox. He almost had when you had winnowed yourself here, collapsing in his arms from the exhaustion magic and a growing babe had caused your body.

You hadn't known when you came to the Day Court, begging your oldest friend for a week of safety and healing that you were pregnant, but the High Lord had scented it the second you appeared.

It left him wondering how the hell Azriel hadn't.

"Let me hire a wet nurse for you," he offered again, knowing you would turn it down since your depressive state had you hyper fixated in this belief that all you were good for now was your breasts, and if you gave that duty away, what purpose did you have? "At least for the next few hours. To give you time to rest?"

You still shook your head, messy, tangled hair trying to sway. "I can't. I can't burden someone else."

Helion turned his head away from you, willing himself not to cry at the emptiness of your voice, at the lifelessness you had become.

"The Night Court and Spring are coming today," he started slowly. "I am the magic selected neutral ground for Tamlin and Rhysand to begin setting a peace treaty and trade routes." He waited for your reaction, almost breaking further as you gave him none. "Do you want to see any of them?"

"Lucien and Tamlin."

Helion felt his heart shatter for Cassian, the male who had been asking about you for months now. "The general-"

"Is Azriel's brother. And probably has taken his side. Attempts to see me are probably to give him some sick sort of satisfaction."

He dropped the subject immediately. Nox was asleep, content in the High Lord's arms. "I have time before they arrive, go nap." Helion ordered it, eyes blazing a soft gold and forcing you into submission.

Your bed had never felt so soft.

Helion was walking with Nox around the Palace, smiling and cooing the little male. He was always content when he was being held, and you were so deeply asleep you hadn't even noticed Helion holding the boy to your chest as he nursed. He walked towards where Lucien and Tamlin were.

His son, his pride and joy, looked just radiant in his Day Court attire. The soft, off-white pleaded fabric draping him showed the new healthy build he had gained since Azriel and Elain's transgressions, a golden snake wrapped his bicep, new golden earrings adorned those many piercings.

Lucien paused, a look of concern etching his face when he saw Nox before shaking his head rapidly.

But it was too late, Helion was already in the room where Rhysand also stood with the Inner Circle. The Lord of Night's face fell as he looked at the Illyrian boy, looking so happy up at Helion as he dozed off.

Cassian had frozen, mid sentence with Nesta. He had tried to take a step, wanting to see the babe he immediately knew was his nephew. His eyes met Helion's pleading with permission to approach. Elain's face had paled. A mix of guilt and fear running across it before she schooled it into a faked look of hurt and sadness.

But it was Azriel's face the broke the High Lord. It was a look he knew all too well.

The look of a father who missed the birth of his child.

The look of a father who didn't know he had a child.

The look of a father mourning lost time.

Lucien moved to Helion, taking Nox before leaving the room quickly. The boy did as he always did when his head found Lucien's warm bare shoulder. He released a heavy breath, snuggling into that familiar scent and warmth. "Your mother did not call for me last night," they all heard his soft voice trailing off, speaking to their nephew softly.

"You will tell me everything I do not know," Rhysand demanded as if he was in his own court. "When the fuck was he born. Why were we not informed of her pregnancy?"

Tamlin looked to Helion, digging the shit further. "Is she in the same room as last time?" The Lord of Day nodded. "I will go see her while you all deal with this."

Helion didn't answer, walking to the centered round table and taking the head seat. "To begin, Rhysand, this is my court. You will not make demands of me in my home." They all sat, aside from Azriel. His gaze was locked on the hallway Lucien and Tamlin had gone down.

If he ran, he could catch them. He could see you. He could-

The slam of hands on a table ripped him from his thoughts, and his head snapped to Helion. The High Lord was blazing, glowing like the sun itself, heat radiating from him. "Sit. Down."

An hour later and Rhysand had the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers. "You saw her send each letter?"

Helion rolled his eyes, nodding again. "Every month after every check up and once after the birth."

Rhys pointed to Azriel. "But you never got them?"

"My son wouldn't be in another court if I had," Azriel's voice mirrored yours. Broken, empty, mourning. Mourning what was, what he had missed and would never get back. "You're sure she sent them to me?"

Helion could have snapped his neck. "Who else would have fathered her babe? You are the one who stepped out of the bonds of marriage and mateship. Not her."

Azriel paused, a sudden look of anger gracing his face as he looked up at Elain, shadows curling his ears. Nuala appeared, setting envelopes down in front of Rhysand. "In her room. Under her bed in a locked chest. Along with every communication you had tried to send to y/n, my lord."

Feyre gasped, turning her back to Elain and leaning further into Rhysand, holding Nyx tightly between them. She remembered those first few weeks. The sleepless nights, the pain, the emotional down pour. She would not have survived without Rhysand. Without Nesta and Mor. Without Cassian and you and Azriel. Her sister, the one who had held her as darkness swallowed her mind after her son's birth, had allowed you to endure this alone.

Azriel's hands shook, reaching for that stack. He separated out the letters. 10 for him. 2 for Rhysand and Feyre. 2 for Mor. 2 for Amren. 4 for Cassian and Nesta.

Helion stood. "I will let you all process this. Call for me when you are ready to do negotiations. The sooner you all leave, the better for her."

Rhysand's eyes shot up. "You won't let us explain to her-"

"Does it change the fact that he took Elain to their marriage bed? Does it change that he signed the annulment papers." Silence filled the room. "I believe that's why she left. Correct?" Rhys grit his teeth nodding. "Then all this changes is me, someone she trusts and feels safe with right now, informing her of what happened and allowing her to decide if she wants to reach out again from that point." He made a pointed look at Elain. "Which would not matter since I cannot see you removing the parasite from your court."

Helion walked into your room to Lucien and Nox laying skin to skin, a blanket over them as Tamlin held you, long fingers running through your dark hair. "And?" His son said.

"Your mate hid the letters regarding her pregnancy." Lucien whistled. "She's a snake hiding behind beautiful scales."

Azriel had tracked down your room with his shadows easily. The inner circle had been excused for the negotiations and allowed to explore the city. Cassian had flown Elain home, Mor and Amren winnowing Nesta behind them. Cassian wanted Elain out of his house, and Azriel could not have been more grateful to his brother for having his back.

He entered the room slowly and quietly. You were placing the babe in a crib on the balcony. It was shaded from the sun, shielded to remain the perfect temperature, and yet gave him access to fresh air, to the breeze.

You turned, eyes wide the second you saw Azriel. He moved to you so quickly that you could hardly process it. One second, your feet were on the ground, and the next, arms held you tight against him. Azriel was breathing deeply, memorizing your scent all over again.

He set you down, keeping you close to his chest, and sent a prayer to the Mother. "Elain hid all the letters," he began slowly. "She kept them all in her room. I didn't know. Had I known about you, about him, I would have crawled the very depths of hell to bring you back home to me."

You didn't answer. Tears fell as your body relaxed into him. It wasn't fair. The hold he had on you. The need you still felt in your bones when he touched your skin. You ached for Azriel so deeply it echoed into your bones. You longed for his smell. His voice.

Azriel took your silence as permission to continue. "I made a mistake. I will never be able to make up for it. Elain knew the second you left, I wanted to correct this. I was so blinded by her, by the feeling of being needed like that again, that I forgot how precious your independence was. How beautiful it is."

He couldn't stop himself from kissing the top of your head. "You are all I think about. Morning, noon, and night, it is always and will always be you. I am so sorry for what I have done. I am sorry for hurting you, for ruining us, for hurting the family we should be raising together. There are no words for my remorse."

"Why?" Your voice broke as you asked. "Why wasn't I enough?"

Azriel pulled back to look at you, hand raising to hold your chin and force eye contact. "Y/n, you are not at fault for my actions. You did nothing wrong. There is no partial blame, no what ifs. I fucked up. I made a mistake and it cost both of us everything. You are the victim of my actions, not the catalyst."

He saw you process those words and saw as they sunk in. "You were and are more than I will ever deserve. I want to spend my lifetime making up for it. Becoming a male you are proud of. I want to be the father I never got to have. I want to be the husband and mate you deserve. I know it will take time, and I do not expect your forgiveness today, but if you give me a chance, I will go to my grave worshipping the ground you two walk."

"Do you want to meet our son?" He broke at the question, feeling the bond opening back on your end. "This doesn't mean we're back together. It means we need to coparent for him while we work on things." He nodded rapidly, following you to the bassinet.

It felt like the world was coming full circle. You knew it would take time, that you two had many things to discuss first. This was a needed good start, though. Your pain eased slightly as you pulled back the curtains to the crib and whispered, "Azriel, this is Nox, your son."

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

**I have received some pretty nasty anon asks, some unconstructive comments, and a good amount of general negativity regarding this fic. If you are unhappy with the ending and want to know why I made the choices I made as the author, click #discussingherewithoutyou. Unconstructive comments will be receiving the same copy and paste answer from here forward.

My time and content are free. If you do not like them, scroll.

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@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium

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@elle4404

[a-fangirltrash]

"Ford treated Fiddleford so bad!!" As if him treating Fidds like shit wasn't directly a product of being constantly gaslighted and abused by Bill.

I'm genuinely getting tired of people flaming Ford, but in a serious tone. Like people are acting like he's a toxic selfish man that used to put Fidd down... and... no he never did???

Ford ADMIRED Fiddleford, he TRUSTED his friend for what he described as "the project of his life" and Ford, being the most prideful man in the world, decided to ask for help because he knew how CAPABLE Fiddleford was.

When Fiddleford arrived Ford let him know how thankful he was that he was there with him, the man even took a bath and made sure to make him feel like he was at home. Ford even remembered his favorite bean brand?

When Fidd got traumatized by the gremoblin, Ford TRIED to help with what he knew. He tried to help him meditate, took days off for him, decided that they could go out and have some good time. Be mindful that this might've been the total OPPOSITE of what Bill wanted, and he still did for his friend sanity. Bill would make Ford work like CRAZY.

Also, for him it wasn't "putting him in danger!!" For him it was sharing adventures with his friend! Just like hi did with *cofcofSTANLEYcofcof*. That's love language all around.

Fiddleford could abandon the project anytime, but he didn't because he liked being there. And Ford is NOT the guilty one for Fidds creatinf the gun :/ it's nor his fault that fidd interpreted "using his creativity" in that way. Ford NEVER approved that gun.

Also, Ford noticed that RUBIK THING, HE APPREACITE HIM SO MUCH HE KNEW HIS HABITS. AND GOT CONCERNED RIGHT AHEAD.

"B-but he free Frilliam!" The portal was close, did you all READ how much gaslighted Ford was at that point? He didn't free it because "ugh i don't care about this shitty axolotl" but because Bill started to freak out and yell at him to get rid of it. Ford wrote "A friend" with a heart in the title??? Wdym he didn't appreciate it aaaagh

If Stanley took the diaries (i don't like this universe because...stanley:() he WOULD have looked for Fiddleford, they'd have made the Institute of Oddology, he'd have shared his success... with the man that helped him the most.

TBOB SPOILERS AHEAD

He got sad when Fiddleford told him he was gonna get back home to spent time with his family, he PLANNED holidays with him. Even if he DIDN'T like holidays.

He took a day off just to make him happy after his atrocious christmas party, he USED RESOURCES that as you know ford is the most practical mam in the world JUST to decorate the portal as a tree and make Fiddleford happy.

And that atuff of "h-he doesn't appreaciated Fiddleford gifts!" IS SO DUMB OMG, he wore the gloves in the snow and was incredibly thankful about them. When BILL that dumbass triangle pretty much LACERATED his hands, he used Fiddleford gloves as a way to hide those scars, and in a sense, probably to comfort himself because he was ALONE.

I think that was the reason of Fiddleford fast forgiveness, not only because he's a sweet heart, but because after fighting with Bill i think he noticed how BIG was the monster torturing his "partner".

And after all of this i'm not trying to excuse Ford treating him poorly and not listening to him in time

BUT FORD IS NOT A PERFECT VICTIM

Even if i believe he wasn't "the" (at least only) reason of Fiddleford becoming crazy, i know it could have been better for him and he could have avoided so much trauma. But can we please stop seeing Ford as a selfish, evil mad scientist and start seing him as a victim... of a terribly abusive relationship that checks in for all types of domestic abuse... please!!! Ford is not a perfect VICTIM Can we blame Bill!!!

All this rant is because there's certain ship... which i kinda like, but i just HATE HATE HATE the interpretation and how much they put Ford as a villian on it omg

Edit: fixed the use of word narcissism, since it might've been ableist! Replaced with words that actually relate to what i intended to say, instead of referencing a personality disorder