#i'm still waiting for their reunion :'(

[raayllum]

callum really sees rayla get sad for the 0.5 seconds he lets himself look at her and then immediately starts folding again like a soggy french fry

[chaoticly-shy-dragon]

@pumpkinpaperweight had a dream and @bnanmonte gave me brain rot which led to lots of ideas and excess creative energy

what I like to call Separation Au or the universe where Agatha is ready to break bones at all times only Sophie makes it to the school. It's a lot of fun to consider when you realize without Agatha, Sophie can't do more than psychological torment and emotional manipulation - and that's something the schools' inhabitants excel at!

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

If you're spending time with your family, and they say "get ready, we're gonna go out and do ___ in a few minutes," what does a few minutes mean? In my family, it usually means half an hour at minimum, over an hour on average, and sometimes they just decide not to do what they said they were gonna do at all.

I'm stuck at my sister's house. We were supposed to go to a big used book sale at noon, it's 2:30 and nobody is ready but me. It closes at 5, and it's gonna take us time to get there, and then find parking, and wait in line because the entire town comes out to these biannual sales and it's always super busy, so if we left right now we wouldn't get inside until close to 4.

I'm the only person in my family who has a sense of time. They have no drive, they don't mind sitting around doing NOTHING all day even when they made plans the day before. I've been up since 7:30, and I've spent my entire day waiting on them, with no end in sight.

[voidstilesplease]

Do you think this is Andre Lamoglia’s last season ?

Warning: I'm extremely biased. But I certainly hope so. Look at those huge ass bags. Oh, he's leaving. He's going. He's out of there.

[radiant-reid]

Reunion

Summary: JJ never knew you were dating one of her teammates and that you broke up because of her, but seeing him at JJ's wedding years later changes things.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Angst then smutttt)

Content Warning: 18+ Smut (oral- f receiving, fingering, unprotected sex, a little bit of a breeding kink)

Word Count: 2.1k

"So, how's mystery boy?"

After skipping your usual Tuesday night plans twice, thanks to JJ being away on cases, you're finally back in your best friend's living room having a glass of wine and a cheese platter.

It's been an abnormal amount of time to go without seeing each other since you both ended up in DC after moving out of East Allegheny to different colleges. Even with men in the mix now, you both make it a priority to see each other as often as possible. However, her busy schedule and frequent flights to New Orleans have meant you've spent some time apart.

Unknown to her, she knows the so-called mystery boy. Very well, in fact. "He's well." You say slyly, unable not to grin widely.

JJ throws her head back dramatically. "Come on, Y/n! Some detail would be nice."

"It's good." You try again. "He's the sweetest. I'm very happy."

She smirks, letting you know an interesting question is coming your way. "How's the sex?"

It never takes more than a glass of wine for her to be that loose. You don't miss a beat in your answer. "Fabulous."

"Okay, so can I meet him soon?" She pushes like she has been for quite some time.

You wonder what she would think. What would her expression do if you were to say his name out loud right here? Maybe it's not that deep but getting with JJ's closest colleague is dangerous. It was a concern at the start, a reason not to start, but you fell in love with Spencer Reid quicker than you could ever imagine.

"Sure, JJ." You agree, trying to look positively about it. You can only assume she's thinking about the worst possible scenario about your mystery man. He's a criminal or he's far too old for you or he's an ex you promised not to get back with. There are too many options.

She looks triumphant. "Yes!"

You just smile, sending the conversation in a different direction by asking about her boyfriend. He sounds like a great guy and you can tell she's happier than ever before.

Three months ago you met Spencer Reid. It was JJ's birthday and your duty as her best friend to throw her a fun surprise party. That took some coordination with a friend from work. Firstly, that was Penelope, but in order to lure JJ, you needed Spencer Reid. He was a little slow with replying to your texts, but lovely. And after you met him, you were hooked.

Spencer was perfect. Gorgeous, funny, intelligent. His incredible shyness had you confused when he asked you out for dinner the next morning.

Too many espresso martinis provide an explanation for why JJ has no recollection of you flirting with him all night.

You see Spencer as much as you can, but similar to JJ's, his schedule often doesn't allow for consistent visits. So whatever time you do have, you make the most of it. He's still the most amazing boyfriend you've had. Kind, caring, witty, fun, and playful.

He gets whisked away on a case to Miami not long after being home. You didn't know things would be so different the next time you saw him.

He goes quiet on you. You know their cases are intense but you haven't heard from him in an entire week and that's not right.

Can I come over? He finally texts you and you're guessing he's back in DC.

It sounds a little ominous and the message sends a chill down your spine. Sure. I can't wait to see you. There isn't a reply and you sit in limbo in your apartment for almost an hour before he knocks at the door.

You smile when you open it, although you're slightly annoyed there was zero communication or ETA from him. "Hey, Spence, how was it?"

"You knew." He says in a cold, accusatory tone. It's nothing you've ever heard from him.

"Sorry?" You repeat, moving to the side so he can come into your apartment.

He steps in, barely looking at you. "About JJ and Will." He explains.

A little frown takes over your expression. Surely he's not angry that he only just found out. An awkward laugh leaves your lips. "Sorry, Spence. She didn't want anyone knowing."

"I'm your boyfriend!" He exclaims. "You're not supposed to lie to me."

"I didn't." You join the offensive, crossing your arms. You're not enthused about what he's accusing you of. It wasn't even your secret to tell him.

He looks disappointed, face dropping. "Come on." He sighs. "How am I meant to be with you if you don't trust me enough to tell me who our friend is dating?"

"It wasn't my secret to tell." You try to talk some reason into him, pushing down that sick feeling in your stomach telling you that he's breaking up with you.

Spencer shakes his head, his decision- as much as it's killing him- completely made. "I can't do this."

His words make your world come crashing down and you almost can't believe it. You slump to the couch while he makes his way to the door with sad, slow footsteps.

He's looking at you, waiting for you to ask him to say. "Can we not tell JJ?" You ask softly.

"Fine." That's the last thing he tells you before walking out the door, shutting it firmly.

That's it.

The last thing Spencer tells you.

Then he's gone from your life. You talk about him less to JJ and she picks up on what happened and stops asking about him.

You expect to see him when Henry's born, or even at a point in his life. Somehow, you don't. Your schedules never line up and then JJ switches jobs. There's a myriad of reasons but it doesn't happen. You both go on with separate lives.

And then JJ and Will are getting married. You get a frantic call from your best friend's soon-to-be-husband who whispers secret plans to you over the phone. It's perfect, you know JJ will adore the simplicity and elegance of a backyard wedding.

You're there as soon as you can be, helping set up Rossi's backyard so it's gorgeous for the most gorgeous person you know.

You're the maid of honor, of sorts. And you don't get a chance to ask who the best man is before JJ arrives and the ceremony begins.

You strike out as soon as you spot a tall brunette. A tall brunette who made you the happiest you've ever been with a man. And he's still just as handsome.

His eyes bulge when he sees you but he keeps a straight face and clenches his teeth while the ceremony continues. You're mostly focused on how beautiful JJ looks and how sweet their wedding is, but you can't help your mind drifting to Spencer.

You hadn't seen him dressed up like this when you were dating and the tuxedo is a perfect look on him.

"Y/n." He comes up to you when you're getting yourself a glass of champagne.

"Spencer." You reply. His tone doesn't let much about how he's feeling on. All you get is a glimmer of shock.

He stands against the table. "Maid of honor?"

You shrug, a little confused at his question. "You know, I'm surprised I haven't seen you all these years." You admit, letting some honesty slip.

"It was slightly intentional." He offers.

You don't let it offend you. "Best man?"

"I think that means we're supposed to sleep together."

You nearly spit out your sip of wine. There's no way the shy Spencer Reid you once knew just said that.

"We've done that." You reply, trying to keep a straight face after the out-of-pocket comment.

Spencer tilts his head to the side. "You're right."

You really don't know how it happens. Maybe it's a few too many drinks. There's definitely not enough alcohol in your bloodstream to solely blame that. Spencer Reid is as hot as they get. And it's been... longer than you're willing to admit since you've had sex. Even longer since it was good sex.

So there isn't anything telling you to stop when Spencer pushes you up against the door of a room in Rossi's house, lips firmly against yours.

Your dress is hiked up around your waist while his fingers trace up and down your thigh before he even thinks about locking the door. Both of you are far too wrapped up in the moment to think securely.

His hands are quick to the zip of your dress, sliding it down effortlessly and letting it pool at your feet. He takes a moment to look at you and you have to admit, you're a little worried about his reaction. You don't doubt Spencer Reid can pull beautiful women.

"God, you're gorgeous." He says softly, juxtaposing the way he's practically clawing your clothes off you.

"Are you going to compliment me or fuck me like you promised you would?" You ask him, waltzing over to the bed and sitting on the edge.

Spencer smirks at your smart mouth. "You asked for it."

He's kneeling on the floor in front of the bed in seconds, with no regard for his suit pants being wrinkled, just on his knees. There's a sense of urgency that doesn't allow for the time for him to take your panties off so he opts for shifting them to the side.

There's also no time to waste as his tongue melds with your folds, tracing patterns. No one has ever come close to giving head like Spencer does. It's truly mindblowing, the pressure of his tongue and the suction method he uses. You're instantly in bliss, head thrown back against the covers as you moan.

You've lost it when his fingers enter you, pushing past with little resistance. "Holy shit, Spencer. You're incredible."

"Sing my praises." He says against your pussy.

You do. Not even possessing the ability to be embarrassed about it.

And you don't stop. You're withering and moaning on the bed, tugging his curls while he continues pleasing you. Eventually, it's too much. His fingers pumping in and out of you combined with his tongue wrapped around your clit have you finishing in no time.

"Still as good as I remember." As if he couldn't get any hotter, he sucks his fingers into his mouth.

Spencer rises from his knees, now much taller than you. You tug your underwear off before unclipping your bra. "Fuck me, Spencer." You reach out for his belt buckle, toying with it. "Please."

Spencer has lost the shy, timid nature he had the first few times you had sex and he quickly takes off his belt and pants. Once his suit jacket is tossed across the room, Spencer pulls your legs to the end of the bed, making sure you wrap your ankles around his waist. His hands rest on either side of your head and you're precisely where you want to be.

"You're so hot." You tell him with a smirk.

He grins, spreading your legs and inching inside you. The look on his face is an instant confidence boost. Clearly, he's a man in bliss, head thrown back and tongue parting his lips.

"Fuck." He pants.

You agree, barely able to speak from how hard he's pounding you and how good it feels. Although it's annoying to admit, you've never had as good sex as with Spencer.

Your hands wrap around his forearms, noticeably bigger than last time. "Spencer." You moan. "Please. So good."

He caresses your chest, paying attention to your boobs like he hadn't before. "Y/n." He groans, not slowing his pace up. His hips snap against yours with each thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing throughout the room. "Can I?" He asks.

It's unlike you to have even let him start without protection but you're not thinking straight enough. All you know is you need Spencer. "Please."

He finishes as deep inside you as he can get, leaning down to kiss you softly. You're breathless like he is when he flops down next to you.

One of Spencer's palms touches your cheek, forcing you to look at him rather than the ceiling. "Hey, pretty girl." He says softly and it makes your heart flip in a way it shouldn't. "Can I take you on a date, Y/n?"

The smile creeping onto your face can't be helped. "Yes. Please."

[writeroutoftime]

our family

pairing: tyler owens x fem!reader (requested by: @piratejakesgf)

summary: it's the first morning tyler is going back to storm chasing after the birth of your daughter and he finds he needs some reassurances in the nursey.

warnings: none (though not proofread lol)

words: 0.7k

a/n: oh my goodness, thank you for this request!! it was so sweet and fun to write! imagining this man as a father truly made me swoon! please enjoy!! 💕

oOoOo

The sun slowly began peaking over the skyline - a gentle nudge to those still asleep that morning was soon arriving. Not included in that group was Tyler Owens. Instead, he stood in the baby pink nursey, staring down in the crib at his seven-month-old daughter. His finger stroked over her soft cheek, memorizing every breath she took.

Tyler thought the moment he met and fell for you that his life was changed forever. But it changed all over ago seven months ago when he held his daughter for the first time. It was then that he knew nothing in his life was more important than being there for his two girls.

He could feel the anxiety building in his body the longer he stood and simply watched. Tyler knew that eventually he was going to have to tear himself away from her, from you, and get back out to chasing. And dep down, he truly was excited. To be back with his team, doing what he loved. But it all felt so much more complicated now.

He went through a similar spiral once 'I love you's' were shared between each other. It was so easy to go out in the middle of a damn tornado when there was no one waiting for him. And now there were two people who would be waiting to for him to make it home safely.

So wrapped up in his thoughts, Tyler didn't hear you shuffle into the nursey. It was only when you wrapped your arms around his frame and pressed your cheek against his sturdy back that he found himself relaxing the tiniest bit.

"Morning, darling." he whispered, letting go of the crib railings in favor of grasping your hands with his.

Your response of incoherent mumbles brought a much-needed smile to his face. Carefully, he untangled your limbs and turned you until your sleepy face met his green eyes. He titled his head forward so his forehead could rest against yours, soaking in this quiet moment.

"How you feeling today, cowboy?" you whispered, not wanting to shatter the bubble that encompassed you both.

Tyler sighed and stepped back so he could pull you into his chest. "I, I don't know if I'm being honest." he confessed. "Don't get me wrong, I'm excited to be back out with the team again, but..."

"But?" you prompted, offering Tyler a space to just think and talk with zero judgments.

"But, I also don't want to leave the two of you. I mean what if something happens here while I'm gone? O-or what if something happens to me while I'm out there?"

You took a moment to carefully craft your response. "I can't say that I won't be worried while you're out there. But that's nothing new. I know you're going to do everything in your power to come home to me - to us." you said, your voice firm.

"Of course I will." Tyler vowed

"Well, we'll be waiting for you when you come home. And that'll just mean the reunion is that much sweeter." you told him with a sly smile.

Greedily, you pushed forward until your lips met Tyler's chapped ones. He responded immediately and held you impossibly tighter. The kiss was long and full of passion, both of you expressing everything that couldn't be said. Love, passion, and promises of more early morning kisses to come.

You eventually pull away and swayed slightly in the nursey as Tyler still held you tightly. Though he felt more relaxed, you could tell there was something he was holding back. As gently as you could, you grasped his chin in your fingers and forced him to look at you.

"And, when you come back home, if it still doesn't feel right - we'll figure it out. We're always here for you, whatever it is you're going to do."

Tyler nodded, teeth caught on his lips as he tried to hold back his tears. "What would I do without you both?" he asked with a small laugh. And when he got into his truck and turned back to see you and your daughter waving goodbye to him, he knew he'd make it back to you whatever mother nature threw his way.

[dinogoofymutated]

NSFW!nightcrawler/GN!AFAB!reader

This is my fic for mine and @pompeii-for-elephants ' fic exchange!! Hope you like it!!! I know I said I was surprised at myself when I wrote the cable smut, but this??? HOT DAYMN. Also, special thanks to @blue-devil-of-the-lord for their guide on german phrases for Kurt!

TWS: MNDI!!! Very tender Sex, PNV sex, shower handjobs, praise, cowgirl position, Nipple sucking, creampie. Kurt Wagner marry me I'm begging you

 You hated goodbyes, but worse than the goodbyes was the waiting. The nail-biting, anxious, unbelievably horrid waiting. 

  Kurt had been off on a mission with Logan and Rogue for about two weeks. You know it could be worse, understanding that some of these missions can take months at a time, but still. It was hard, being away from him for so long. You worried constantly about how he was, if he was okay, and if he needed anything. The moments where your mind was busy were moments of relief, as when you let your mind wander it always wandered back to him. 

  You’ve just dismissed your class for the day when Jean psychically gives you confirmation that the group of them would be coming home today, and you can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. You’re almost done grading assignments when you hear the jet above the school and practically scramble out of your chair. You hastily turn off the light and close the door, speed-walking down the hallway and then down the stairs to the bottom floor. You’re almost at the steps of the basement when you hear a *Bamf!* from behind you. You practically skid to a stop, whipping around and catching sight of Kurt with an excited smile.

  You’re the first to tackle him into a hug. He hisses in a bit of pain, and you quickly try to pull away when you realize that he’s hurting. He’s not having any of it though, keeping you held tightly against his chest as he holds you close.

  “Ich habe dich vermisst.” Kurt says, pressing his face into your hair and breathing you in. “I went to your classroom, but it seems that I had been just a tad too late.” You laugh at that, giving him a gentle squeeze before pulling away just enough to see his face. His smile is contagious, and you cup his cheek lovingly, rubbing your thumb against a dark bruise that looks to be forming under his cheekbone. 

 “Sorry to lead you on a chase. How are you feeling?” You ask. Kurt hums, turning his head to press a kiss to your palm. 

  “Better now that I’ve seen you, Schatz.” You cock an eyebrow at that, and all he does is give you an innocent smile, albeit a tired one. You’re trying to be reasonable here, but god if it wasn't for a wave of cuteness aggression. You catch his lips in a kiss, so very thankful to have him back home. Kurt eagerly returns it, and you’ve certainly forgotten that this is still a school at this point. On cue, there’s a cough from somewhere behind you, and you separate from Kurt, only slightly embarrassed to be caught. It’s Logan, giving the two of you a knowing look and a bit of a smirk as he crosses his arms.

 “Sorry to interrupt the reunion, but you’re still needed for the mission report, elf.” Logan says. Kurt winces, and you frown at the thought of being away from him again. But, procedures were in place for a reason. Kurt kisses you on the cheek, taking your hands in his just briefly before he has to leave.

The whole afternoon has gone by with Kurt still caught up with his responsibilities. You’re getting ready for the shower with only a towel wrapped around you when you hear Kurt enter your shared room. He gives you a greeting that sounds tired, and you can’t help but peek out of the bathroom door, spotting sweet Kurt as he sighs and sits on the bed, exhausted. You try not to stare as he begins to take off his suit, but it’s admittedly hard. You frown at seeing his exhaustion, and the dark purple bruises that he reveals as he peels out of the clothing. You think for a moment, but come up with something you decide was more than fair.

  “I’ll see you as soon as I can, Ja?” He whispers. You nodd, smiling in a way you hope is rather reassuring. He smiles back, before following Logan back into the basement.

  “Hey, Kurt?” You ask sweetly, leaning against the doorway. 

  “Yes, love?” He asks. He does a double take when he looks up, giving you a tired smile once his surprise wears off.

  “Join me?” You add on. His bright smile is all you need as an answer, and he scrambles to get out of the suit faster as you walk back into the bathroom. He teleports behind you as you start the water, dragging you backward into his arms to make you giggle.

  “Let me help you with that, Mein Schatz.” Kurt says as he unravels the towel from you. He hangs it on the rack before turning back to you, and you can’t help but get closer to him, holding his face in your hands as you place a kiss on his forehead. His yellow eyes watch you fondly, his hands falling on your hips and his tail swaying happily as you hold him. Your hands stroke his cheekbones, before trailing down to his chest, rubbing your thumbs across his collarbones as you look at the bruises on his chest and abdomen. You frown, trailing a hand to the area to gingerly stroke the skin.

  “You let Hank check you out?” You ask. Kurt nods, taking your hand in his own and pressing it over his heart.

  “Alles ist gut, Don’t worry for me, Liebchen. I’ll heal soon enough.” He says, and you sigh at him, giving him a concerned look. Kurt had always been a defender and protector, and yet he still brushed off his aches and pains. Even now he stands here, telling you not to worry. He gives you a sheepish smile, brushing a hand through your hair soothingly.

  “It’s wash night. Let me wash your hair for you?” He asks. You smile, but shake your head before pulling him to the shower.

  “I was hoping I could take care of you tonight.” You say. Kurt simply chuckles in response, following you into the warm stream of water. You start by washing his hair, being careful around his ears and eyes when you rinse. Kurt has no complaints as you lavish him with attention, almost purring as you wash him and cover him in suds. You turn him around to wash his back, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades before continuing. You can’t help but be a little cheeky, hands trailing down south, teasing the skin around his hipbones before sliding back to grab a handful of his ass. Kurt jumps a little but only laughs, his tail swatting your hands away.

  “Cheeky.” He remarks, and you can tell he’s smiling. You let out a small “Can you blame me?” before your hands travel back around his front. You kiss the back of his neck sweetly as your hands wander up and down his abdomen. Kurt sighs as he leans back into you, relaxing in your arms.

  Your hands begin to wander, trailing down to his cock as you just barely brush your fingers along his length. Kurt gasps, tail curling around one of your thighs as his head leans back.

  “Schatz…”

  “Tell me to stop, and I will.” You whisper into his ear, hands moving to his thighs, tracing the sensitive skin. “I know you’re tired, so just… let me know.”

  “No... no. Please, continue.” He begs, the tip of his tail swaying idly between your thighs. You kiss the skin below his ear as you begin to caress him again, gently stroking him to hardness amongst the soapy suds. His gasps and choked moans are lighting a fire inside of you as you stoke the one in him. You nip and suck on the sensitive skin of his ear, addicted to the feeling of him against you, and the sounds he makes in your hold. 

  He lets out a curse as you thumb the head of his cock, collecting a bead of precum as you stroke it back down his shaft. Your other hand drifts a bit lower, teasing his balls before you give them a gentle squeeze. Kurt lets out a little “-ah!” and a whine as you build him closer and closer to the finish line. His cock twitches in your hands, his breath coming in shaky pants. His hands reach back for your thighs, clenching and unclenching as he reaches closer to his peak. You pick up the pace of your strokes, and he lets out a loud whine when he cums. You stroke and kiss him through it, sucking a hickey into his skin as his hips thrust and legs shake. His cum coats your fingers when you’re finished, sticky and creamy in consistency. 

  “Feel better?” You ask. Kurt chuckles in response, taking one of your hands in his own, still coated in his cum. He kisses it before ducking it into the stream of water, cleaning your hands off before he turns around and kisses you. His tail wraps around your waist as he draws you as close as possible, only letting you go once he's had his fill.

  “Let me have you,” He whispers. “Please.” You're breathless at the words, biting your lip as you think it over. You kiss him again, and then a second time for good measure.

  “I don't want you to strain yourself. You've had a long day.” You tell him. Kurt pouts at you. His tail tightens slightly around your waist. You sigh with a smile at the look he gives you, his eyes half-lidded and needy. 

  “Okay, but I just want you to lay back and relax, alright? Let me do the work.” Your palms are set on his pecs, slowly sliding up and down the area. “Let me take care of you for a change.” You whisper. Kurt smiles at you, his tail unwrapping from your waist as he backs you up to the wall of the shower. He's got you cornered into the wall, and he brings a hand up, shutting off the water after pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

  “As you wish.” He says.

  It's hard to keep up with what's happening between the shower and the bed, but once his back hits the sheets, you're engulfing him in love and praise, thankful to have him home and happy to serve him pleasure on a silver platter.

“You're so pretty, Kurt.” You hum, actively kissing across his fuzzy abs, a hand tracing the soft hair of his happy trail as you pay extra attention to the deep bruises he came home with. Kurt’s chest heaves, his hands clenching the pillow at his head as you lavish him in attention. The sight of him was stunning. Deep blue skin and pretty black curls… Kurt gasps underneath you as you drag your teeth bluntly across his nipple, and you can't help but smile at the sound. He's rock hard underneath you, flushed a pretty purple at his tip as his cock stands at attention. You don't let him stay painfully hard, stroking him slowly to scratch that itch he so desperately deserves to have scratched. 

  One of his hands unclenches from the pillow as you start to press kisses to his cock, teasing and licking the skin. The limb flexes by his hip, and you take the invitation to lace his fingers between your own. It was a bit awkward to figure out when the two of you first started dating, but there was no mountain you weren't willing to climb if it meant returning the love he gave you in such abundance. You know he would do the same for you if the roles were reversed. You stroke him a few final times, kissing the sensitive head of his cock and sucking it into your mouth as one last effort to hear him whine before you’re straddling him.

  You grind your wet folds against his cock, perhaps a little more sensitive than usual. Kurt's lost in a world of pleasure, desperately trying to keep his eyes open to watch you. You're absolutely soaked, already feeling like you could take him in entirely, but you continue to grind against him, spreading your slick across his shaft to make sure that there won't be any struggle on either end. His other hand comes down to rest on your hip, kneading the skin as you move. You squeeze your intertwined hands, resting your free one on top of the one he's placed on your hip.

  “I love your hands, you know that?” You murmur. Kurt responds with a moan as his hips jerk up, moving against yours. “-and your arms, your tail, and fuzz and- a-ah…” You bite your lip as the head of his cock catches on your clit. You're beginning to get impatient, even though you were the one who chose this pace in the first place. He just felt so good and warm against you- hitting all the right spots without even being inside you yet.

  “Please, love, let me- hng… I enjoy your words, and your praise, but perhaps too much. Spare me, please.” Kurt breathes. His grip on your hip has gotten rather tight, his tail winding around your thigh once again, like he does when he doesn't quite know what to do with it. He's waiting for you, you realize, and you want to do nothing more than kiss him silly.

  Instead, you do exactly what he asks for, and spare him. The head of his cock notches against your slit before he slides in without any effort, settling in comfortably for the both of you. Both of your moans greet the air at the action, surprised at the utter lack of resistance. You'd think that you'd have to be well prepared for this kind of thing, but no, seems that all you needed was Kurt.

  “That was… You feel…” Kurt’s struggling to get the words across, his eyes fluttering closed at the pleasure. You're trying your hardest not to balance yourself by leaning on him as you begin to slowly work your hips.

  “Believe- me, you did most of the -ah- work, handsome.” You say breathlessly. Kurt’s yellow eyes flicker open as you start moving earnestly, watching you ride him with conviction. Both of you moan when he happens to hit that spongy spot inside of you that feels so good. 

  “Danke, danke… Love- ah, fuck!” Kurt moans, his voice coming out breathlessly toward the end of his sentence. He doesn't curse like that very often, and it makes a flicker of heat light you up from the inside.

  “So good Kurt, you feel so good.” You gasp, each bounce of your hips causing his cock to stroke your insides just right. His hand on your hip begins to move up to your waist before it goes further to just barely brush against your sensitive nipples. You gasp again at the feeling, letting out an almost embarrassing moan.

  You're caught by surprise as Kurt is sitting up, letting go of your other hand to push you against him. He leans forward, his tail now flicking excitedly behind him as he sucks and nips at the skin of your chest. You rest your hands against his shoulders as you pick up the pace of your hips, addicted to the feeling of Kurt’s hums and moans as he sucks on your nipples.

  “I’m…I'm close-” Kurt barely separates from your body to say the words, his hands clenching against you has he begins to tense and twitch.

  “Ye-Yeah?” You ask, one hand tangling itself in his still-damp hair. “Okay, handsome- ah- I've got you.” You can feel him begin to twitch inside of you, each and every movement bringing both of you to your peaks. Kurt lets go of your chest as he kisses his way up to your mouth, catching you in an urgent and passionate kiss.

  “Cum for me, please.” You say in between his kisses. He simply moans in response as your hips begin to falter, a telltale sign that you're about to reach that sweet, sweet pleasure.

  Kurt cums first, tensing and shaking underneath you as spurts of his cum warm your insides. He brings a thumb to your clit to help you meet your own orgasm as you work him through his. Stars flash in your eyes as you hit that peak of pleasure, grinding against him, once, twice, three more times before you collapse against his chest. Kurt chuckles contently beneath you, rubbing your back and kissing the parts of you he can reach as you rest against him.

  “You okay?” You ask the moment you're back down to earth again. “I didn't hurt you in any way, did I?” Kurt shakes his head at you, leaning back to look you in the eyes.

  “No, not at all, Liebling.” He says fondly. “I'm not sure you could if you tried.” You can't help but smile at that, sighing into him as you rest against his chest. It feels good to have him back. He slips out of you before he lays both of you back down against the cushions, where you take your chance to pepper his face with kisses.

  “Ich liebe dich.” He says softly. “So much. Much more than you know.”

  “I love you more.”

[sweetnans]

So I imagine a Reader and Bakugo are neighbours and their parents are friends so she’s known him since they were children but he dosent really care— anyways going to the future, reader confessed to Bakugo in middle school however since he dossnt get much attention from girls since they always ignore him he didnt know what to do and just reject her harshly, little did he know he started to develop feelings and it got worse when they both moved to UA💀. To make it worse reader made friends with Izuku lmao,,,

How do you think he would handle the crush thing and treat the reader before and after the war?

Before the war, he would definitely be super distant with Reader. Besides, Bakugo is the kind of guy who doesn't comprehend his feelings very well, so that leads him to suppress them until he explodes. Once he realizes he can't hold them anymore, he starts taking care of Reader in a super subtle way, like he makes sure she's good, she has eaten, that she doesn't strain herself too much on training, that she doesn't have any problem with tests and her assigments but if you think that if she has those problems he would approach her? You're wrong. If she's bad at training, he would send kirishima to train with her saying something very harsh like: "That loser can't fight for shit," and Kirishima would scold at him saying back: "that's not very cool, bro" and he would go and help you. He knows his people, so he knows how to play them.

After war, he realizes that everything can end in a second. After he dies and miraculously revives, he has a new vision of the world. He has a new vision of Deku, of his friends, of his family, and of course you. He needs to make amends.

Everyone is in delicate state after the war, physical injuries, and mental injuries. Every single person he knows is battleling with PTSD including you. After you heard him that he died and the tragic news spread almost as fast as the news of Todoroki taking down his own brother, you felt something breaking inside your chest. Your heart was ripped in two.

You knew that confessing your love to him wasn't very clever of you, and because of his response (or the lack of it), you thought that it'd be easier for you to forget him. You wished your feelings would be gone when you entered UA. But, just because the world hates you, they were still there, and even worse, they intensified.

So when you heard he had died and then revived, you decided to take a leap of faith and let your feelings be.

After the tumultuous end of the war, you haven't seen much of your classmates. Everyone was at home, including you, trying to heal wounds and getting a well-deserved rest.

You were admiring the ceiling of your room when a faint knock on your door snapped you out of your trance.

What you saw was like a mirage. Not even in your craziest dreams would you believe that this would ever happen to you.

"Are you busy or something?" He asks, taking a peak in between the door and the frame.

You are now sitting at the edge of the bed, shaking your head without talking.

"Then what are you waiting for? Come with me, " he huffs like it is the most obvious thing to do.

You two walked together to a nearby park where you used to play with Izuku when you were kids. He guided you to the swings, taking the one on the left, leading you to sit on the right.

The silence is heavy but no awkward.

"Are you feeling okay, now?" You ask, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," he says in a sigh.

You grab the chains of your swing and play with your feet until you reach some sort of rhythm that keep you swinging.

"I know you're wondering why I brought you here," he imitates you moving at the same tandem.

"I mean, we haven't been here since we were kids...is this some sort of reunion I'm not aware of? Is izuku coming too?" You ask with enthusiasm.

That was the thing with you, after you two kinda fell apart and took differents paths, you stayed with Izuku, you kept being his friend and that boiled Bakugo in a way that, in the past, he didn't understand. But now, everything was different. Now he understands that you needed Izuku and Izuku needed you.

"No. Just you and me, " he says. And he prays that in the near future it could stay like that.

"Oh," it is the only thing that comes out of your mouth.

Again, the silence.

In your skin, you could feel how he was fidgeting and turning every gear in his brain to say something, but Bakugo wasn't good at words.

"Okay, I'm gonna say it anyways," both his feet stop in the ground, doing a screeching sound that has you stopping your swinging too. "I was an asshole. I'm still an asshole I think, but I want to make this right. I apologized to Izuku, now you're next, so you're gonna listen to what I have to say. That day when you said those things to me and I made fun of you? I was wrong because since that day I can't get you out of my mind. I tried to, but I never could. Then everything was shit timing, and I didn't have the time to tell you this, but now, seeing what can happen I'm done fucking everything up. I'm sorry. I know I mistreated you, you didn't deserve that, and I'm sorry I did everything wrong"

The way he said that, like he was verbally puking on the ground, got you breathing like the air was limited. The first thought in your mind when he appeared at your bedroom door was that you were dreaming, and now you needed somebody to actually pinch you because you weren't understanding anything.

"Say something," he partly begs and grunts.

"What can I say? You appeared out of nothing, then dragged me here to say what I've been waiting to hear for like two years, and I've been picturing this in my mind for those years and in every scenario I know what I'm going to say but now I'm completely empty, nothing comes to my mind" you murmur more to yourself than him.

He was stoic. He didn't remember a time when he spoke that much to you, so he felt like it was the first time he had heard your voice in decades.

"In those scenarios, you cursed me?" He asks.

"Oh boy, I cursed you in languages that don't even exist." There's a mixture between a sigh and a laugh that erupts from inside of you, melancholy, you could tell, looking to the sky being the exact opposite of what you feel. Bright and blue, perfectly clear.

"Do you want to do it? I mean, I can take it without spatting back, " he shrugs nonchalantly. You raise both of your brows at him. "What? I can do that!"

"Sure," you say sarcastically. "So, that's it? You came here to say sorry? I accept your apologies"

You were being honest with him. There wasn't any bad blood between you two, and after what happened, you really wished that you two could get along again like old times.

Bakugo felt the same. He still had mixed feelings about you. Everything that happened made him realize how short life can be and how he shouldn't be wasting any more opportunities. He was about to verbalize that when he felt your hand on top of his.

"I hope we can be friends" you say.

Your smile is bright, and your eyes are sincere. And for the first time, he smiles at you, hoping and wondering that you could be more than just friends.

[luveline]

we know that the criminal minds writers looooved hurting spencer but i would love to see bau!reader (bombshell!reader if you think it would fit) hurt and spencer losing his mind a little (ofc everything would end up being okay because we love fluff in this house 💗)! thank youuu <333

ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1k

“Spencer, are you coming in?” 

The boy in question winces, the cellophane wrapped stems in his hand strangled by an anxious grip. Your voice is hoarse, quieter than usual, though that could be attributed to the thick wooden door between you both. He takes the door handle in his hand, readjusts his fingers, can't quite get himself to go in. 

“Spence,” you say, missing your usual cheer. “Please come in.” 

He opens the door slowly. It weighs a hundred pounds, each inch heavier than the last. 

You're propped up on the movable bed with a dinner table over your legs. Someone's brought you contraband, it seems, expensive soup from the fancy restaurant you like just outside of work. Next to it lies your phone, your chapstick, and a prescription bottle. The orange of it is too glaring to look at for long. 

“Nice to see you finally, heart-throb,” you say, sitting back, rolling your shoulders as you smile. “Where've you been?” 

Sapped by terror in the waiting room, mostly. “Sorry,” he says, offering no explanation. You deserve one, but he can't get the words out. “How are you feeling?” 

“Shot at.” 

“Is it bad?” 

Your eyes soften. “No. Wanna see it?” 

He does in an awful way. To alleviate his panic, sure, but to know what it did. To see what his stupidity resulted in. The unforgivable in stark scarring. 

You lift your shirt and shift your soft bralette up a touch to show him the wound and all its grim stitches. “It almost missed me. Guess I'm not as lucky as I think.” 

“Does it hurt?” 

“Not right now. They told me not to wear wire bras for a while, so you win some, you lose some.” You let your shirt fall back into place. He can see the indecision in your eyes. Not one for hiding like he wants to, you address the elephant in the room. “Now you've seen it's not so bad, can you look at me again?” 

“I'm looking at you.” 

“You know what I mean.” 

The thing is, Spencer doesn't, not really. Half the time you act like you're sharing a secret with him but he doesn't have a clue what you're talking about, and the intimacy is lost, and it's his fault. He's never been good or smooth or charismatic, he's never deserved your attention, and it's his fault you're here, hurting, his fault you'd been prone on the ground, his fault Morgan had to hold your side closed, his fault you almost died. 

“Spencer,” you murmur, “you know I don't blame you.” 

Of course he knows that. 

“You should,” he says tightly. He doesn't mean to get angry. 

“Well, I don't. So give me my flowers and sit down.” 

He bites the inside of his cheek. He's mad, but he gives you the flowers without any roughness, and you take them with a similarly thin thank you. 

Your reunion isn't going how either of you wants it to, it seems. 

Spencer sits in the chair next to your bed as you pick between the petals, admiring their colours, their softness. For a moment you're peaceful, but you close your eyes and press your nose gently to a small bud, and you ask, “Why are you acting like this?” Heartbroken. 

He could explain it in halves. You passed out in the back of the ambulance. Your surgery had unexpected complications. Hotch was so angry, and he still wasn't as mad at Spencer as Spencer was at himself. 

Seeing you hurt because of his mistake isn't a feeling he thinks he'll survive a second time.

“I don't get why you like me,” Spencer admits. “Not before, and especially not now. You should be pissed. This,” —he gestures to you quickly— “is my fault.” 

“It's not your fault, Spence.” 

“What would you call it?” 

You put your flowers down and stare at your lap. He's pushed you too far. Nice, he thinks to himself scathingly, to upset you in your sick bed, that's exactly what he should be doing to make it up to. Great going, Spencer. 

“Will you hold my hand?” you ask quietly. 

He hesitates, his heart skipping a beat like a missed step down the stairs. 

“Please? I just… this has been a lot. I'm not telling you to make you feel guilty, I swear, but it's been a lot. And so many times I wished someone was here. I wished you were here.” You turn your head away from him. “I thought you were mad at me. I'm still worried.” 

Spencer stands up. He feels every stretch of muscle as he does it. You raise your eyes to his, holding out your hands; you know him better than anyone else, he thinks. He overcompensates every time. 

“I'm sorry,” he says, crossing his arms behind your shoulders carefully. 

“I told you it's not your fault.” 

“For not being here to hold your hand.” 

Your hand curls in the front of his shirt. 

“M'not mad. Not even slightly. I mean, not at you…” He rubs your back with his thumb. “Why would I be mad at you?” 

“What was I supposed to think?” 

He presses his nose to your temple, eyes squeezed close in regret. “...You're right.” 

This is what he should've done the moment you woke up. Instead, he let his mind focus on detail, what flowers demarcates remorse, or if cellophane wrapping would be an imposition. Anything to forget how your hands shook as the adrenaline wore off. 

They're steady now as they wrap around his sides to rest at the small of his back. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, lips touching to your skin with each syllable, like fractions of kisses. 

“I missed you, handsome. Please– don't do that again.” 

He rubs your back. “I won't,” he promises. “I'll be here as long as you want me to be.” 

“Forever, then.” 

For once, your flirting doesn't make him blush. 

[isaadore]

TAKE TWO | CHARLES LECLERC

pairing charles leclerc x actress!reader

SUMMARY with your demanding careers, finding time for each other was hard. so after a mutual breakup, you and charles parted ways. but as fate would have it, you run into him a year later, giving you both a second chance. faceclaim kendall jenner (or imagine who you’d like!)

warnings fem!reader, use of y/n, very light cussing (like one cuss word), mention of trent alexander arnold x reader

note this took way too long but it's finally done!! this smau will have multiple parts. i'm just not sure how many, but there will definitely be more to come. i hope u guys enjoy <3

MASTERLIST | CL16 MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

INSTAGRAM oct 17

yourusername

Liked by zendaya, oliviarodrigo, and 7,761,096 others 

yourusername and that’s a wrap!!

i’m extremely grateful to have been part of such an incredible franchise! thank you to our cast and crew for making this such an unforgettable experience. 

i can't wait for you all to see it! scream 7 in theatres november 3rd.

Tagged: screammovies, oneofyourcostars

View all 29,103 comments

jennaortega It was amazing working with you ❤️

yourusername you too! <3

charles_leclerc Congratulations 👏 

yourusername thank you :)

fan01 aw he still congratulates her 😕

fan02 yourusername mom and dad

fan03 fan02 we’re all children of divorced parents

sabrinacarpenter not a fan of scary movies but i’ll watch it for u. see u at the premiere 💋

yourusername i love uuu

fan04 mother is mothering 

fan05 U GUYS DON’T KNOW HOW BAD I NEED THIS MOVIE

fan06 I’ve been waiting for agesss

fan07 i love u y/n but i don’t know if i can handle another horror movie

fan08 u look SO GOOD

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM oct 27

deuxmoi

345,789 likes

deuxmoi Y/N L/N just arrived at the “Scream 7” premiere in NYC 🍿

View all 2,106 comments

fan01 her outfits never disappoint

fan02 i’m so in love with her 🙏

fan03 She outdressed everyone 

fan04 y/n and jenna >>

fan05 she’s really that girl

fan06 y/n is brave walking in the snow with heels omg

fan07 fr i would have slipped the second i stepped out of the car 😭

INSTAGRAM 5 days later

yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, haileybieber, and 7,245,099 others

yourusername unwinding in paris 🤎

scream 7 out in 3 DAYS!!

Tagged: yourfriend01, yourfriend02, yourfriend03

View all 27,941 comments

francisaca.cgnomes rest up!! u deserve it

yourusername thank u and i miss u <3

fan01 yourusername we need a y/n and wags reunion NOW

fan02 fan01 and a charles and y/n reunion

fan03 fan02 I second that

madelyncline I’m so so excited ❤️

yourusername i love u madss

fan04 ur so hardworking y/n i’ve literally never seen u take a break ever

fan05 fr!! i’m glad she is tho she deserves it

fan06 stunninggg

fan07 i’m running to watch it as soon it’s out 🏃🏽‍♀️

yourusername i’m so glad to hear! hope u like it 🤍

fan07 yourusername i just passed out

INSTAGRAM 3 days later

pierregasly just added to their story!

TWITTER

IMESSAGES later that night

INSTAGRAM nov 11

yourusername

Liked by lilymhe, honeymoon, and 8,886,215 others

yourusername it’s only been a week, and the support my team and i have received is absolutely incredible. thank you all so so much for your support, i am so grateful <3

Tagged: yourfriend01, yourfriend02

View all 36,972 comments

iamrebeccad so proud!!

yourusername thank u <3

charles_leclerc I’m so proud of you ❤️

fan01 shoot ur shot king

yourusername thank u sm :)

fan02 boldest comment from him yet

fan03 the heart???

fan04 we’re ur biggest supporters alwayss

fan05 U DESERVE IT

fan06 The movie was PHENOMENAL

fan07 ur so beautiful and talented!!!

fan08 I nearly peed my pants watching the movie but it was worth it

trentarnold66 😍

fan09 woah what

fan10 SHE’S GOT THE FOOTBALLERS NOW

fan11 damn charles u gotta try harder

fan12 there r basically two guys shooting their shots in this comment section rn

fan13 the question is who is she gonna pick 🤷🏻‍♀️

MASTERLIST | CL16 MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Ahhhh I've been waiting for your requests to open, I've been following you since your first Price fic and never had an idea to request until like 2 weeks ago 😫 so, I've been thinking, what about being in a relationship with Keegan but getting separated when ODIN hits the earth and not meeting again until about 5 years later? 👀 Love your writing, hope you have a great day 🩵 :)

For The Weak And Weary

PAIRING: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: When ODIN struck you had thought he had died, sky alight with fire. It had taken years to accept it, much less live with it. But after Dallas falls, would you get a glimpse of your Lover's phantom again?

WORDCOUNT: 6.2k

WARNINGS: Angst, depressive thoughts, PTSD insinuations, gore, wounds, blood, death, canon-typical violence, (1) suggestive joke, alcohol, hallucinations, fluffy reunion, tears, verbal arguments, etc.

A/N: Just because I'm a sucker for sticking to the game timeline I made it ten years, lol. Enjoy, Anon! Very fun prompt.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You could never make sense of what Keegan went through in 2005 during Operation Sand Viper. It would be pointless to try and wrap your head around it from what little you knew. All that mattered was that when he came back on leave, something in his eyes was…damaged. Hell, he’d only been sixteen—the both of you had known each other since you were kids, you knew when something was wrong.

And this was entirely new to you.

He smiled less and snapped more; got spooked when you dropped something in his family's kitchen like a grenade had gone off. Maybe, you reasoned, he thought one actually had. 

But through it all, you could still see how much he cared about you. When you were old enough you’d both moved into a nice place in the suburbs and started a relationship—a life shared between the two of you. 

You knew he loved you from the way he’d grip you close at night and breathe into your scalp. How when you were sick from the take-out dinner he’d brought home, Keegan would hold back your hair and rub circles into your spine as you threw up. He never shied away from telling you how beautiful you were; prided himself on it. Keegan loved to show you off.

But there were times back then when you wondered if the same Keegan that had been so fulfilled to join Ghosts had died, and, in fact, a phantom was instead puppeting his skin. He was so quiet now.

If you’d known that the world was going to end on July 10th, 2017, you’d have never let him walk out that door angry. You would have grabbed his hand and pressed your lips to his, whispered affirmations into his flesh and sobbed at the cruelty of it all.

“I can’t keep pretending that you’re okay!” You yell, tears in your eyes, at the man standing tense in the kitchen doorway. Blank blue eyes stare lifelessly. “Keegan—this is killing you.” 

It was early morning by then, and the neighborhood was quiet. The house that the both of you had moved into years ago was littered with the remnants of a happy home. Pictures on the walls, dishes in the sink, and freshly baked bread on the counter. All you’d tried to do was give Keegan a hug, slipping your hands around his waist when you’d entered. 

He’d balked back, jerking to the side and nearly elbowed you in the gut before he saw your wide eyes and stopped himself. The way he’d looked at you…how could eyes be so dead?

“You need to talk to someone,” you put your foot down, shaking your head. “I-I don’t know a therapist or…or someone who can get you proper help because I can’t keep acting like I can live like this.” 

Every mission, every time he went away, it always got worse. 

Keegan’s eyes get sharp, hands at his sides clenching. He speaks in a low growl. “I don’t need to talk to a shrink, alright? I’m fine, you just startled me.”

“Bullshit,” your mouth hisses, glaring. “You thought you were back in ‘05.”

The man points at you, strong jaw clenching, “Don’t.”

“Keegan,” you plead, “please, I love you! I don’t care about this, I just want you to be alright. To be able to live your life—”

“What you want is to try and change me!” The black-haired man barks. Your eyes blink in shock. Keegan rarely yelled. “I already told you I was fine, why don’t you get off my back all the time?” His eyes flash, pupils going to slits as his hands shake at his sides. Why did he look scared? Your breath stills, lips slightly open, with tears dripping to the tile. “Fuck, it’s like I can’t come home without you pesterin’ me ‘bout something!” 

A stiff silence falls.

“Kee—” He snaps a hand to his mouth and rubs at his stubble, suddenly unable to look at you.

“...Forget it.” It’s low and shaky how he says it, eyes wide, before he darts into the foyer and slips into his boots. You listen to the sounds of panicked shuffling before the man wrenches open the front door and slams it shut behind him. One of the picture frames falls and hits the ground with a shattering of glass.

You flinch and tense, taking down a terse breath and sniffling tightly. Trying to get your lungs to work properly, your feet take you over to the picture as they feel weak and uneven; a stuttering mess of steps before you bend down. Your fingers bleed as they shift the glass away, taking out the image of you and Keegan on your hike through the mountains. 

Smiling faces mock you, and you break at the bright and open affection Keegan wears as he looks down at you—eyebrows curved up and smirk like a knife to the chest. 

You loved him so much it hurt to breathe when he was away. 

He had needed time, you knew, but what you didn’t know was that time wouldn’t be available. Around noon the world had opened into a ball of fire and death. 27 million dead. Los Angeles, San Diego, Phoenix, Houston, and Miami…all gone…at least, that was what everyone in Dallas was telling you. 

When Keegan had been away taking a walk to calm himself, you’d been home alone. The earth caved, the ground shook; houses burst like balloons. By the time you’d crawled from the rubble of your home, all you had was the picture and the clothes on your back. People were screaming—you were screaming. But you knew that you couldn’t stay here if you wanted to survive. 

And then you’d made it to Dallas by sheer luck and the few tricks Keegan had taught you; had thought that he had died in that first strike by the Federation. You carried that guilt and self-hatred for not holding your tongue for a few more hours. 

So much could have been different in these ten years. Better. You never got over him for even a second. 

But the reality was that you couldn’t think about all of that now, because if you didn’t focus on holding your breath you would be dead in the next three seconds. 

Your hand is anchored to the body of your sniper rifle, finger hovering over the trigger as you hide behind the outcropping of rubble in the decimated cityscape; the air is hot and humid despite the weight of the night. It sticks to your skin in a sheen of violent sweat. Yet it’s still not as potent as the blood. 

Teeth gritted, you hold back whimpers as Federation soldiers stalk the grounds, scores of them—legions. An entire army that had breached the walls and executed everyone insight, soldiers, civilians, if it once moved it didn’t anymore. The burning in your shoulder was agonizing, head smashing itself back to the rubble in an attempt to stifle your own ragged need to scream into the night as layers had peeled back to allow a bullet to pass through. 

In the ten years you’d been here, you’d taken up the mantle of quite the sharpshooter; pulling on Keegan’s lessons when he was on leave and wanted to bring you to the firing range. You had even picked a rifle similar to the one back in your destroyed home—held in a plastic case and treated like royalty by your long-deceased lover. It wasn’t the same, but the jet-black Lynx made you steady like the picture in your breast pocket did. 

A reminder of what was lost and why you had picked the knock-off up in the first place.

Footsteps get closer as the sweep of a flashlight cards above your skull, if possible you go even more still, lips pulled in and heart rampaging. There were barked orders and yelling, but no more screaming. 

How long had you been unconscious after taking that shot to the shoulder? Fear was breeding with horror—was…was everyone dead?

Spanish is loudly called not five feet away, and the flashlight leaves as your breath does. You let off a quiet gasp and suck down air greedily. Eyes flashing from one shadow to another, you look for any opportunity to slip away from the city. In the wind, you could smell fire, and taste it on your tongue as you licked your lips. 

All around you can see the limp shadows of bodies and the apartments, large skyscrapers were on fire deep in their frames. The city was entirely lost.

How the federation got into the walls you would never know, though there was concern about the enemy soldiers rounding up civilians outside the walls and executing them. Maybe one cracked before the bullet entered their skull.

You bite hard into your lip to force back your pain. Trying to shoot a rifle would be useless at this point, you might as well have lost the limb. Slinging the gun’s strap over your head, you look back and forth along your visible perimeter, checking for hostiles as you unsheathe your combat knife and cradle your limp arm to your chest. 

If only Keegan could see you now.

Rounds of gunfire make the air burn with urgency, and you take the time to peek out behind as sweat makes a trail down your dirty face, dripping off of your chin as you breathe like a wheezing dog. Your wound needed tending, and you had the med pack on your vest with the supplies, but you can’t do it here.

Where’s safe? If Dallas has fallen…is there anywhere that’s still standing? A location hits your brain as your gaze darts from one abandoned street to another. You take a deep breath and whine as you force your legs to stand and move quickly, feet shifting as quietly as you’re able to make them. 

“Fort Santa Monica.” Now a stronghold, you’d heard US soldiers here talking about the large presence of military power out in California—numbers so great they rivaled those that had lived in Dallas. 

You stumble over a spasming body and slam your uninjured shoulder into the bulk of the building’s wall, groaning loudly like a wounded boar. 

“Fuck!” If you made it out of the city, that would be where you would have to go; to warn them of what was coming. The Federation had found a way inside the Dallas wall, and that meant if they had enough tenacity, they could do it to them too. 

Everything would be done if another city fell.  

Holding your knife tighter, you push off the wall and grit your teeth harder, mind running on that edge of hysteria and forced calm. It’s in these moments where you have to pull on old memories to keep you going—even if they end up hurting more than the open wounds you carry. 

Keegan had his bad moments, but you always got through them together. Years and years of knowing each other inside and out; memorizing bodies and thoughts like they were second nature. He would want you to keep fighting, tell you to get your ass in gear and go…and you would never let him down. 

You owed him that much even if some days you wanted more than anything to join him. 

Blade in hand, you hear muttered speech from up the alleyway and pause, feet splayed but still swaying as you come to a slow stop. Your ears ring at garbled sentences, foreign words spilling into one another. 

Panting, you listen closely, limbs vibrating. More gunfire echoes over the air, screams and death that get ingrained into your head like a brand into sizzling flesh. Skyscrapers burned and buildings fell with great earthquake booms. Everything is under a sheen of distance.

Get out of the city. Get to Fort Santa Monica.

“Kill who I have to,” you slur out, itching at your neck as you leave a trail of blood behind you. A single pair of footsteps walk quickly forward near your corner and you hold your breath, bringing up your knife as pain pounds in your arm. 

Deep blue eyes sit in the back of your mind, counting you down as they always did.

Keep your arm steady for me, Doll, a phantom tells you. Breathe...

When the first shadow of a Fed soldier graces your eyes, you strike. 

—

It’s roughly nineteen days from Dallas to Santa Monica, and that was if you kept up at a steady walking pace. If the crude sling you’d fashioned from bandages found in your med pack was any indicator, it would be double that. 

On the first day, you had hiked half-dead over the destroyed landscape of what remained of the USA, licking your wounds and counting your losses. You’d had your pick of abandoned houses, taking a red brick one just because it looked nice and you were about to pass out from blood loss. The only reason you’d made it this far was that the bullet had thankfully passed right through you, making sure that if you moved too suddenly no more damage was being done internally. You packed it with a sterile rag.

Sitting in the home, pictures gathering dust on the fireplace mantle, you tipped back a bottle of whisky you’d found in one of the bedrooms, grimacing at the sting. It was better to be drunk for what you were about to do. 

Heating up your combat knife in the fire you had started in the hearth, you watched the metal grow an eye-flinching white as you stared off into nothingness. 

“You remember when you showed me that scar, Keegan?” You always talked to him. Others had given you shit for it, but they knew the purpose. If you didn’t talk to someone, even a ghost, you would give up. 

The guilt was eating you alive, and it would overtake you eventually. Hadn’t in ten years, but it would…you knew it, everyone did. 

Keegan was everything, and nothing looked the same when you lost him.

“The one on your thigh?” Pulling the knife back, you turn to the leaking flesh of your shoulder, gushing blood as black desecrates the sides of your eyes. You’d taken off your vest and shirt. If you tried hard enough you could imagine Keegan standing in the corner, watching. Always watching. “You said you had to dig a bullet out and cauterize the wound—when I asked you said you barely felt it over all the adrenaline.”

The ghost tilts its head, eyes sad and lips pulling taunt. Your lungs take in a shaky inhale and your hand quivers; only you feel how your eyes burn with unshed tears. 

“I never thought about it before,” right as you growl and shove the knife into your skin, you bark out in fear, “But I think you were fucking lying!” 

On day two, you knew you had to avoid the remains of Fort Worth, so you decided to increase your distance and cut that landmark out entirely—too many remnants of Federation. They were everywhere now, and you needed to keep low; get out of Texas. You scavenged properties and took stock. 

Four magazines for your Lynx, a pouch with five protein bars, one bottle of water attached to your belt, and your knife. Normally you’d have a pistol at your thigh, but you’d used it up in the firefight back home. When you’d woken back up, it had been gone.

And, of course, you had the picture. You kissed Keegan’s face and placed it back in your breast pocket, caressing the material softly before clearing your throat and addressing the obvious. 

With what you had getting to California was a pipe dream. 

You’d been on the radio all day, clicking through channels and pleading for anyone alive to reach out. Nothing. Static. 

I’m the only one left. The thought was intoxicating, pounding in your skull like your hangover. Everyone is dead. 

While you had become somewhat of a loner in the last ten years, especially with the few months you’d been by yourself in the beginning, Dallas had given you a chance to build bonds again. Ten years, and in an instant it was all wiped out. 

It rang a devastating bell.

Somehow, you had cheated death where so many others had failed—not only in Texas, but back with ODIN too. You had survived, but somehow Keegan hadn’t. 

Keegan, the one who never spoke about ‘05 and jerked awake from nightmares years later because of it. Keegan, who wanted nothing more than to stay at your side when he was home and keep you on his chest when watching movies. Keegan, the love of your life.

The only love of your life. 

“I really wish you were here,” you mutter, grimacing as your arm gets jostled as you stumble over a piece of rusted metal in the empty street. “Who gave you the right to go away before me, huh? We were supposed to grow old together, Russ. You promised me that.” 

Garbage gets blown over the road when a hot breeze shifts the air, bringing the scent of dirt and the noise of rustling trees. Nature has reclaimed the towns and suburbs—great patches of ivy and long grass that rise to your hips. But the silence was a curse.

The only thing keeping you going is the thought of delivering your warning to Santa Monica, from there…

Your lips thinned. What even was there left? How many times could you go from one place to another, starting over with stories of your past and having to brush the pitying looks off as you fake a smile? 

Shaking your head, you recall memories from the better days as the light gets low in the sky. 

“You’re doin’ too much, Sweet Thing,” Keegan mutters, and you turn from the stove top with a bright smile to face him. 

He had just gotten out of the shower, towel ruffling through his dark hair as he stands in the kitchen entrance and watches you cook for him. The shirt hangs off of his wide shoulders, and gray sweatpants are loose over his formed hips—his strong brow line raises in a casual expression. 

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it,” you tease, hearing his low chuckles as you turn back to your pan. “You look good, y’know.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Keegan grunts, smirking, and his feet pad over to you, tossing the towel to the counter as his presence looms over your back. Large hands grab onto your hips and a nose burrows into your hair; inhaling deeply before gradually melting to the curve of your spine. 

You smile and hum, pushing back so you can rest on his chest. A chin sets itself on your head, deep massaging fingers making you pur as they bunch your sleep shorts.

It was late—nearly two in the morning. Keegan had only gotten home a short while ago, but sleep wasn’t going to stop you from spoiling him. A wine bottle was on the island counter, two glasses, and the food was nearly done from what you could scrounge up on short notice.

“...Good to be back,” the man grumbles into you, kissing your head and slowly sweeping his arms around your waist as you sighed softly at the contact. 

Your face gains heat. 

“Well, I’d sure hope so, or else this would be awkward.” You huff to hide the bright smile in your voice. But like a moth to flame, you hear, as well as feel, Keegan chuckle against your spine. His grip squeezes you for a moment. 

“How was it when I was away?” He asks as you move around the contents in the pan, nose brushing your neck as his lips travel to kiss behind your ear. He breathes against the flesh as his low rasp makes you shiver. “Any trouble?”

“Negative, Sergeant,” you raise a brow and smirk over your shoulder at him, seeing his blues spark as he gazes hard into your eyes. A faint twitch to his lips is what you get before his hand captures your cheek; anchoring your face as he descends to connect his mouth to yours.

He sighs into it, arm still around your waist—tight as if you were a pillow. 

“Keep talkin’ like that and we won’t have to wait long for dessert, will we?” 

Days three through seven were uneventful beyond the constant agony of your arm and tired legs, but on day eight amid a waterless walk in the sweltering heat was when the hallucinations began. 

Keegan walks beside you, his footsteps mirroring your own as sweat pools down your forehead and drips off your nose. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you—he just walks, looking exactly like he did the day he died. 

At first, you’d flinched back and blinked wildly at the sight, panting, but then he’d disappeared and your heart had shattered. It worried you with what you were seeing, but it was also a strange comfort to be able to ramble to…something, even if it wasn’t real. Hungry and with a dry tongue, you were on the verge of calling it quits.

So on day eleven, without a wild animal in sight to give you a proper food source and all the water having to be purified, you started talking to him while licking the inside wrapper of your last protein bar. 

“But I never understood why you hated sleeping in shirts,” you licked your lips to get the remnants of granola off of your flesh, pushing away the greasy sheen from your cheeks. Your arm was burning up—every heartbeat was felt as it moved the skin around red and infected flesh up and down. Puss was leaking out from the crude stitches you had made of embroidery thread from that first house you’d found. 

“And you always kept the room freezing.” Continuing, you drop the wrapper to the ground and then take the meat of your fingers and get what little flavor you can off of them, grunting through realization. “That was a ploy to have me use you for heat, wasn’t it? Jesus.” 

The man in the corner of your vision smirks, tilting his head and chuckling from where he leans against a tree trunk. 

“Yeah, that’s right. Knew it.” Glaring at nothing, you stand from your overturned stump and nearly fall right back over, stomach yelling at you as your vision swirls. 

You dig a hand into your hair and grip at the strands, pulling and groaning. “...God.” 

Keegan comes over and stands above you, your eyes staring down at his feet as you get light-headed. You focus on his shoelaces, counting the Xs and taking down shaky breaths. When you blink like a cat with dirt on its face, the shoes are gone entirely and you stand back up to your full height.

“...Keegan?” You ask after a moment, the words disappearing into the trees, but no one’s around. 

Your sight goes to your wound and your jaw tightens, moments of clarity slipping in as a knife would into your consciousness before the curtain settles once more. 

You bend over and vomit what little nutrients you had, spending day twelve sleeping through a fit of nightmares and fever-induced delirium.

Nothing about the remainder of the time you can recall to memory—bits and pieces always flash through on long nights, but they’re only walking montages. Dragging feet, looking at your hand as if it was a foreign object as you turned it back and forth; everything in a sheen of sickness. Days and days and days. Little food. Less water. 

More than one-thousand miles.

But somehow, the Wall peels out in front of you as you crash through the foliage, your body giving out and collapsing down a large decline. Bouncing and getting jostled by rocks, you come to a stop without the strength to get back up, staring blankly ahead as your head connects with concrete. Your mouth is open in broken inhales, pain not even registering. 

Shouts echo, the pound of rapid feet. 

Green eyes meet yours, a youthful face with a beanie and stubble. He’s saying something to you, glancing over your gear and your obvious near-death situation—his hand jostles the side of your face. But your eyes shift behind him gradually, attention falling to someone more important. 

Before you finally let yourself rest, you stare at the smiling face of your steadfast phantom.

—

The doctors and nurses at Fort Santa Monica were nice, if a bit secretive about the entire operation. Seeing as you weren’t an official soldier, no dog tags or patches—no name in the database—everyone was a bit hesitant to tell you anything. 

Until you said you were from Dallas, of course. 

But no one was eager to rush you in your state, even if the information was dire. You had been hooked up to an IV and bedridden for a week straight; talking to nothing on account of the dehydration and electrolyte imbalances. Some days you spend unconscious. 

But what really pissed you off when you got back into it, was the fact that they had taken your Lynx and your gear—your picture.

You’d almost grappled onto the first nurse you’d seen when you’d woken without it. It was a beacon, your prized possession of damaged corners and taped tears. Water damage that may or may not have been from sobbing fits in the first five years. 

In fact, that was the entire reason you had snuck out so late in the first place. 

Stalking down the hallway in the white shirt and camo pants that had been given to you on the fifth morning you had woken up here, you pad along with no shoes, only plain gray socks. You limp with bandaged flesh all along your healing shoulder and your feet. 

The doctor had explained that you’d entirely skinned the bottoms and your heels were a mess of blisters and open wounds. 

“Take my property,” you grumble under your breath, shuffling along and rubbing at the back of your neck. “What gives them the right?” 

You weren’t going to stop until you found it. 

Reading the name tags on the walls, you silently wonder where they would have taken your stuff as you slip out of the medical ward, listening to the buzzing of the lights and frowning. As you’re limping along the next hallway, a man suddenly turns the corner on nearly silent feet. 

“Woah!” You halt immediately, heart jumping in your chest. A hand catches your shoulder before you run headlong into him. 

Green eyes lock with your own, wide and blinking quickly. Brows furrow and you’re quickly looked over before a slow, teasing remark enters the air, you listen with a growing heat on your neck.

“Y’know, I could have sworn you were supposed to be in bed, Ma’am. I miss something here?” The man who had found you. 

“Wouldn’t know,” you say blandly, blinking up at him and taking a careful step back. This brunette had a casual air to him—still in his gear despite the time. He folds his arms and tilts his head at you, smirking. “If you’ll excuse me.” 

You begin to walk forward, slipping past him and hoping you won’t get snitched on. Except it seems you’ll be having a shadow, as not a few seconds later a smooth chuckle meets your ears and the man walks beside you. 

“I think I’ll be taggin’ along if you don’t mind. Security and all.” He turns to face you, sticking out his opposite hand. “Hesh.”

“That supposed to be some kind of nickname, Kid?” You raise a stiff brow but participate in the handshake nonetheless. His grip is firm but not hard. 

Hesh blinks at you, eyes swimming with amusement before he shrugs in a boyish way and shakes his head with a laugh. “Hell, you remind me of someone, Ma’am.” A moment passes in silence as you study the area. The man huffs, “Where exactly are we off to?” 

“Wonderland,” your lips grumble, tired and wanting to sleep but not until you find your picture. Hesh sighs but you can still hear the hilarity inside of it. 

“Alright then…don’t know if you’re going to be finding a shrinking potion anytime soon, though. We’re in low stock.”

“Very funny,” your eyes send a dry look, but you relent when he prods you with his eyes, taking a corner. “I’m looking for my vest.” Hesh blinks at you in curiosity, letting you elaborate as you motion to your upper shoulder. “My pouch has some of my personal belongings. I don’t like being away from it.” 

“Oh,” the brunette nods a few times, his beanie jerking along. “Yeah, that’s no problem.” A hand is waved and you stare in confusion as he pivots. “C’mon, I’ll get you there.” 

Your eyes burn into his back before you immediately speed after. 

“Why so eager to help?” Hesh smirks at your question. 

“As I see it, if you went over nineteen days of hard hiking just to get to us, you should at least be able to keep your stuff on you, Ma’am.” Your lips flicker in a smile. 

“You’d be the first.” You tell him your name and miss the slight emotion it provokes in his eyes, head lightly pulling to the side but ultimately saying nothing. Hesh shrugs with a grunt, leading you to a meeting room on the opposite side of the building. 

Yelling is on the other side.

“Elias, how long has this been kept from me?!” The voice makes your head perk, evoking something inside of your chest. Hesh seems taken aback too, holding up a hand to you for momentary silence—not that you had to be told. 

“Keegan, I can’t have that happen. She needs to recover and you being there could jeopardize that. We need what she knows about Dallas.” Your body stills to a near-frozen state, and it’s comedic how your entire face falls to a blank slate. Wait a second.

…Keegan?

“She belongs with me—I thought she fucking died and she’s been here for who knows how long?! Why wasn’t I informed?” Rampaging feet suddenly sound off, going to the door at break-neck speed.

“Son, that’s not a good idea. This is what I was worried would happen if you found out.”

“I didn’t exactly ask, did I? As far as I’m concerned, nothing else matters besides getting back to my Girl,” the bark is ferocious and violent, more of an animal’s than a man’s. “Now where the hell did you put her before I tear this damn fort apart and—” You shove at the door before Hesh can grab you, throwing it open and letting it hit the opposite wall with a great boom of wood. 

Your wild eyes instantaneously lock into sharp blues, pulse pounding in your ears. It’s like all the air is taken from your lungs in a great punch. 

Oh, he’s so similar to how you remembered him to be ten years ago. 

Keegan stands only a few feet away, turned in your direction with his eyes so wide and small you might faint. There’s black face paint in his sockets, making the cerulean all the more bright and shocking to the senses. He’s still tall, still built, if only a bit more rugged than when ODIN struck—there are lines on his forehead and his scars are more faded. Small differences in the way he holds himself like the difference between a rabbit and a hare. Keegan’s black locks are shorter now, but still…his.

Lips part in silent shock, an entire halt of your nervous system. 

The entire universe holds its tongue as you two stare at each other; walls and rooms blur into a mess of matter and reality—this couldn’t be real. 

Keegan’s feet shift for a moment as if to steady himself as his fingers twitch. In his hand, he holds your picture, his body covered in gear and weapons. He blinks as you tell yourself he’s a phantom, simply that same ghost come back to haunt you as tears sting the backs of your eyes. But then he speaks, and it’s the same voice you had slowly lost the ability to remember in year three. 

“...Sweetheart?”

His ghost never spoke. His ghost could not imitate the phonics of his speech or the rhythm of his throat. His ghost could not make you recall the memories you’d long since boxed up.

You jerk forward just as he does, bodies colliding into a feral grip of flesh and fabric, hands latching and faces burying. Sobs rip from you as Keegan’s shaky breath echoes right next to your ear—his chest hitching and arms snatching your waist and lifting you up as easily as he always had. He holds you up without any thought of putting you down, legging your legs dangle as Elias slowly exits the room and corrals a highly confused Hesh with him.

The door shuts, but neither of you notices. 

“Keegan—” Your voice is high with emotion, hardly believing what you're seeing—what you’re touching. “Oh, my God.” 

He had been alive all this time? Ten whole years and you’d thought he was dead. But by the way he was barely letting you breathe from in his iron clutch, you imagined Keegan had thought the same about you. It was…incomprehensible. 

“Shh,” he whispers, his shushes cracking and flinching between broken gasps of your name. “Shh.” He sets you down on the floor only to have his firm hands travel to your cheeks, turning your head to each side in a desperate need to understand if you were really there.

Keegan’s eyes are wet, but no tears let themselves fall quite yet. 

“I’m so sorry!” You hiccup and the man kisses your cheeks—your browline and nose. Every piece of you he can as you both stay so intimate you might melt into one another. “I thought you were gone, I-I should have stayed and looked for you, I didn’t—”

“You’re alive?” Keegan’s hands rub across your body, gripping and tugging you closer and closer. “My Girl’s alive?” 

His tears drip to your face as he hovers above you, and you both shake with the weight of years. 

“Me?” Your chuckle through sobs—you want to scream and wail at the same time. Blue eyes flutter and ragged breaths puff on your forehead. “What about you, you asshole?” 

Keegan shakes his head, and you stare deeply into him, hands coming up to cup his cheeks as he sags forward. He had stubble now, spreading out to grate your flesh. 

The man forces a weak huff. 

“Christ,” is all he mutters before he presses his lips to yours in a kiss so unyielding you expect to have your air stolen. Ten years to feel him kissing you again—to feel his warm flesh under your hands and his heart rampage into you. 

You’d do it all over if it still amounted to this.

Your body shivers and you reciprocate with just as much fervor; this emotion of relief is so overwhelming and all-consuming that it makes your head light. You suck down quick breaths between the sensation of your lips meeting, Keegan doing the same. 

Unconsciousness was better than letting him leave again, your lover sharing that sentiment as chests slid against one another. Soft hair slips through your fingers as you grip Keegan’s hair, cascading through locks as he groans into your lips and tries to hide his tears from you. 

He pulls away and immensely shoves his head into your neck. 

“You’re here,” he whispers quickly. A hand quivers at the back of your head as your tears wet his gear. “You’re right here. You came back to me, didn’t you, Doll?” 

You cry, “I’m here, Keegan.” The man sobs when he hears you say his name, his knees giving out as you both fall to the floor and not letting the other move beyond the caress of skin and lips.

“I missed you,” Keegan gasps, “so much. Don’t you understand? I was nothing without you. You took it all from me, everything. Every damn thing.” 

You press kisses to his neck and racing pulse, healing him inside and out without even realizing it; it was only fair, he was doing the same back to you. 

The picture lays long forgotten on the floor.

“Never let me go,” your voice forces out, as he rocks you back and forth like a child. “Never again, Keegan. Please, I love you too much to go through that again.”

“Never,” he immediately promises, pulling back and kissing your lips again—neither can stop themselves from this. Blues eyes blink quickly, cataloging your face and every little blemish he’d have to relearn and study; to find the story behind. Keegan had never been happier. He felt like he might break from it. “Over my dead body, I’m never lettin’ you out of my sight. You’re stuck with me.”

You laugh genuinely for the first time in ten years and say you’d like nothing better as he pulls you back in and plants his mouth to yours in reverent worship. His arms trapping you to him as yours do just the same.

Not to leave again anytime soon. 

TAGS:

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[wildesqdreams]

canceled plans, sweet love

summary - sometimes you have to experience pain again and again, even if it's caused by friends, until you find that person who would fall into tartarus for you.

pairing - percy jackson x fem!reader.

warnings - angst (not because of our man), but percy saves the day, kissing/making out.

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a/n: i wrote this in one sitting, why? because this actually happened to me. am i okay? no, i'm not... but i hope u guys like it!

you know what's the biggest problem with selfless people? they usually end up as idiots, lying in bed listening to radiohead and still WONDERING how they can make others feel better.

it was 3pm. she was supposed to be back at 7. percy knew it, so he went out skateboarding with his new colleagues that he has befriended.

y/n knew it, too. she had planned the day out. well her and her friends. a lake day, a long needed reunion, since she didn't see them for quite a while.

the thing is she was so sentimental and she was waiting when she could finally see her friends again. and as she was told, they were too. but then why did the plans suddenly change? and why did suddenly everyone have to leave 5 hours earlier than intended?

a tear rolled down her face, and she hid her face in the blanket.

god, she felt so stupid. always listening. always trying. always waiting. ALWAYS CHASING OTHERS. but in the end, being left alone like a piece of shit.

it may seem dramatic. but when all your lifetime you have been the one running after and being ditched, it just makes you feel so embarrassing and lonely. so fucking lonely.

she felt something vibrate. she reached for her phone under the pillow, hoping for some apologies, but all she got was a notification from the weather app. y/n put her phone back down on the bed, closing her eyes, trying to fall asleep. trying to run away from her clouded mind.

some minutes passed, and she heard the apartment doors open. there was some shuffling before she heard a voice yell from the foyer, "hey, baby, you're already back?!"

percy.

the girl felt the nerves in her body come back alive. how stupid. such an idiot. dumb. dumb. dumb.

"weren't you supposed to be at home much later," she heard him come to the bedroom, "not that i'm complaining or anything," percy set the keys on the cupboard in the room.

y/n just hummed.

"ey," the boy went to the bed, sitting down, where she was lying on her side. he placed his hand on her upper thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb, "did something happen?"

"no, everything is fine," she put on a small smile, as she sat up, percy's hand sliding up and down her leg, that was covered with the blanket, "so, how was your day? have fun?"

percy squeezed her thigh before putting his hand on the bed beside it, the other reaching for her hair, pushing it behind her ear, "baby," he kissed her cheek, that was stained with tears, resting his other hand on the other side of the bed, traping her between his arms, "don't lie to me."

"perce, i'm fine, really."

"then why have you been crying?"

y/n shrugged, "watched a sad movie."

"and why are you home so early?"

"got bored, decided that i wanted to leave," she tried to act unbothered, but percy could see right through her. of course he could.

"y/n," he sat closer, as he put his arms around her, "fuck em," he pulled her closer.

she tried to smile, but tears started to spill again, "again, no big deal."

she heard him sigh, "i hate when you just act like it's okay, when it's not, " he rubbed his hand up and down her back, "i just wished you had called me, i would be here in a heartbeat-"

"percy-"

"i'm serious, y/n," he pulled back, resting his hands on her cheeks, "i'm here, baby, always. i'm not gonna just throw you away. if you need me, i'm here," he rested his forehead against hers, "those idiots aren't worth your tears. gods, pretty, you deserve so much better than them."

she smiled, tears still in her eyes. the girl gave him a peck on his nose, "i'll live, i mean, i have you. that's more than i could ask for."

she felt his hands go down to her waist, lying her back down, as he climbed on top of her, giving her soft kisses on her neck, "that's right, baby. just remeber that," he trailed his lips up her neck, "don't want you forgeting what you mean to me," her hands went to his hair, as his kisses traveled up to her mouth, "i love you so much, y/n."

"i love you, perce," the boy captured her lips into a passionate kiss.

but the best thing about selfless people? they are patient enough to wait for the right people to come into their lives and make all the tears and pain be replaced with endless love.

"but really," she mumbled into the kiss, "how did it go?"

percy just laughed, "let's just say we both should just stick with each other," and with that, he placed his lips back on hers.

taglist: @pleasingregulus

[generalsmemories]

Unwanted reunion

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ prompts: “catching the other one crying shortly after an argument and immediately feeling an overwhelming wave of guilt crash onto you.” + "it's okay, we can fix this..." + “playing with their hair until they fall asleep”|| 1k event

✧ contents: hurt/comfort, angst, established relationship, implied character death

✧ a/n: if u wonder how in the world i came up with the scenario below. i genuinely don't know either it's a mystery to even me. CREATIVE LIBERTY WINS AGAIN THE PROMPTS WERE LITERALLY INSPO AND NOT WRITTEN DIRECTLY INTO THE SCENARIO. also implied that this took place after the battle with phantylia so keep that in mind.

NOT BETA-READ AS USUAL FELLAS I WANTED TO HAND THIS OVER TO YA'LL ASAP AS AN APOLOGY FOR STARVING YOU ALL FOR SO LONG!! it's mild angst though, so sorry.

Jing Yuan's can feel a familiar heaviness weigh on his body as well as the feeling of someone wrapping a roll of gauze on his arm. However opening his eyes proved to be a challenge in itself and it's only with great struggle that he can manage to force them slightly open to the bright light.

The first thing he notices is the familiar ceiling of your shared home. A bit weird since whenever he did get injured he would immediately be rushed towards a private room by the Seat of Divine Foresight - which was the safest place for him to stay. Perhaps you had gotten your will again to take care of him - seeing as you're a high ranking healer yourself and quite a stubborn soul.

But his eyes still widen a tiny bit when he sees you sitting by the edge of the bed, one hand gripping his gauzed wound while your other hand is busy trying to find something to keep your hard work in place. You're humming a soft tune again, he never knows what sort of melody you're humming, only that it had become a habit for you after the amount of years you had spent by his side bandaging his battle wounds. Something about helping your mood and staying positive.

"Your recklessness knows no bounds, Jing Yuan." the sternness of your voice snaps him out of the daze he's in, immediately rising up from the bed only to groan in pain when the wounds that you had just wrapped up react to his body folding, "... And still don't know when to rest - even when I'm in the middle of treating you."

"...How much time has passed?" he asks, voice hoarse after having slept for who knows how long. You only hum, setting the bandages aside - the gesture causing Jing Yuan to follow your hand movements which makes him notice the bloodied bandages inside the trash by your legs.

"A couple of days, I was just finishing changing your bandages when you finally woke up. Here, some water." you inform, raising a glass towards his lips, patiently waiting for him to move closer.

You only start to speak again after he's taken several gulps, placing the cup of water back on the nightstand beside his bed. "Why are you so willing to throw your life away?" you ask after a moment of silence, helping Jing Yuan rest against the headboard, eyes never leaving his own that don't dare to even look into your own.

"It's my duty-"

"Your duty is to make sure as many of the Cloud Knights survive a battle. Not gamble your life on a piece that you weren't sure had the capabilities to help."

Jing Yuan bites his tongue at your immediate rebuttal, you were right after all. "The Master Diviner was right there by you. A troop was enough to guard the entrance, you didn't need to leave the master diviner with them to go on this-"

"... Can't you be happy for once whenever we meet like this?" he asks quietly, effectively stopped you from saying anything more. His gaze is cast downwards whenever he mutters the same question to you whilst shrinking a bit after asking. There's no sign of the proud general in your presence - in front of you is just Jing Yuan asking a supposedly harmless question.

Perhaps that's the reason why you can never shove him away immediately.

"... You know what my answer is."

Jing Yuan was no crier. In fact, you think he stopped crying or showing any visible sign of discomfort or uneasiness the day he got the title as General. You're pretty sure you can count the amount of times you've seen Jing Yuan cry on one hand.

Perhaps his ability to hide his own needs and wants so often day by day for the past centuries makes your dismissal of his simple wishes that more gut-wrenching for you. You try to ignore the overwhelming guilt that washes over you every time you have to say the same thing to him.

"... You have a lot of things that you want to get done on the Luofu, Jing Yuan." you murmur softly, extending a hand to run your fingers through his locks, breaking apart any knots that may have formed in his sleep.

"You know we can meet again, but now is not the time - especially now," you gently remind with a sombre smile, your hand moving from his hair to rest against his chin to make him face you.

"It's gonna be alright, okay?" he scoffs at your reassurance, finally coming to terms with your conditions once again like always, wrapping his arms around your waist to fall down back on the bed with you on top.

"Remember the last time you said those words to me?" he says, almost sounding offended at your choice of words to which you only smile against his skin in guilt.

"It was the first time I saw you cry so hard," you try to joke, pressing your hands against the mattress to push yourself off of Jing Yuan, choosing to hover above him instead.

"... I'm sorry," you decide to say in the end after a moment of silence, once again threading your fingers through his hair - an act you knew used to calm him before. At this moment though, you're not so sure.

"Why? Shouldn't I be sorry?" he asks in return, a small yawn leaving his lips as his eyes struggle to stay open. You smile bitterly as you shake your head, still threading your fingers through his hair.

"No, none of it was your fault - what happened back then was out of your control. But this time it isn't. I can wait for a long time, Jing Yuan. I know you're aware of that so don't try to rush anything to meet me again." you tell him, leaning down to press your lips against his forehead.

"So it's time to wake up, dear. Luofu is waiting for you."

[penultimate-step]

Lately, I've been thinking about the effect of real-world time on perception of media. Or, wait, let me start from the beginning.

When I was 11, I read the book Ender's Game for some school assignment or another. I don't remember ever considering Ender a relatable character, but certainly my understanding of the events was shaped by being of an age to see the protagonist not so much as a young child but as someone of my peer group, someone who could have been slotted amongst my classmates without anybody batting an eye.

Over a decade later, I read the sequel, Speaker for the Dead; it takes place many years later, when Ender is in his thirties, and my feelings about the in-universe time skip were undeniably shaped by the real life time gap between my reading of the novels. Reading the first book back then and then the second book now created a feeling where it's almost like, I'm browsing the facebook page of someone I had known in middle school but lost contact with, checking up on how they're doing today. The real-time factor caused me to perceive it less like a timeskip, and more like a reunion - the feelings were closer to "oh wow, that's my boy! I haven't seen him in years! Wonder what he's up to?" Which in turn gave me a better position to appreciate the parts of the narrative about him struggling to find a place in his adulthood than I would have been had I perceived it more strictly as a quick skip from 11 to 20 to 36.

While musing about this, I considered a VN I played a few years back, which took place over three in-game days - except at the end of one in-game day, the game would lock you out from progressing for 24 hours real time. So that as the in-game investigator protagonist was ruminating on the information that had been discovered that day, the player would be forced to do the same. In this example, by forcing the player to experience the same timeframe as the in-game characters, the sense of it being an in-depth and extensive investigation increases, even though without the forced pauses the game would be short enough to blow through in a handful of hours real-time.

Which brings to mind how time effects things in long-running serial works. It's well known that an audience which watches an episode or reads a chapter week by week has a very different experience than one binging through whole seasons or volumes at a time, but I wonder if the real time relative to the in-universe time makes that effect stand out more? Fight scenes, for instance, have been known to take up several chapters in certain manga or webnovels. What does it do to the reader's perception, if from their point a view a fight takes a whole month, while for the characters they read about it's only been a couple hours? Readers might feel that the situation is more stressful, since the pressure of the fight has been ongoing for a long time for them, while in-universe it was a rough afternoon but no more than that. Contrastingly, when a series skips ahead or otherwise has long periods of time for characters that feel short for readers, it can feel like no time has passed and everything is still the same, unless the author really stresses the differences in world-state that occurred offscreen. Because the reader hasn't changed at all.

No conclusion here exactly, I just think it's interesting how often an audience's response to a work, the emotions felt, are more closely tied to their real-life timescale, something almost completely out of the author's control, as opposed to in-universe time, which can be intentionally shifted or played with for the sake of the narrative.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

You Will Stop the Wedding! - Riddle Rosehearts

SUMMARY: YOU were the one being kidnapped by Princess Eliza to marry her. How would he react and how would he save you? With the aggravation of he already having a crush on you.

CHARACTERS: Riddle Rosehearts x Reader

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Declaration

WORD COUNT: 800 words

Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Jamil Viper / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia

Rescuing You - Deuce Spade; Jack Howl; Floyd Leech; Kalim Al-Asim

COMMENTS: What have I done? Why did I commit to writing this? And why did I write so much? Why was I so inspired? There were seven of them! Why do I do this to myself? So yeah, this took me a long time. But I hope it was worth it, for me and for you.

CONTEXT: Someone was kidnapped to marry some ghost princess and might end up turning into a ghost too. And he just found out that someone was you.

OFF WITH HER HEAD!!! How dare they kidnap you?! His face immediately turns red with anger. Having discovered this at a Housewardens reunion, Kalim is trying to calm him down.

They manage to get him to control himself by saying that if he appears in front of the princess like an angry crazy person it could be worse for you. He shows that he was offended by the "angry crazy person" part, but begins to control his anger.

He, along with Ace, Rook and Epel, form the rescue group. And everything goes more or less as in the original story. The difference is that Riddle asks Ace to stop the ghosts instead of him volunteering to do so. This is because if only one of them can get to you, it will be him!

Like a rule-obsessed person, he waits for the right moment to step in and shout, "I OBJECT!" And he still tries to follow the plan of pretending to be in love with the princess for then putting the ring on her finger. But while he does this he ends up looking at you and at that moment all the false words escape him.

“I... can't do this. I can't lie like this.” He straightens up and looks at the princess very seriously. “The truth is, I'm not here for you, princess. I'm here for the person you kidnapped and are forcing to marry you.”

The princess begins to defend herself saying that she didn't kidnap anyone.

“ENOUGH!” His face was starting to turn red and his voice was starting to get rougher. “I'm tired of your delusional excuses. You will stop this wedding and give (Y/N) back to me!” He pulls out the magic pen and a battle ensues.

The other three still manage to join him, but end up losing the battle against the giant Guard. As with the others, the princess goes to them to slap them in the face for their insolence and to petrify them. But when she does it with Riddle... he can still move. Everyone gasps, including the princess. When the guards ask what's going on, the princess says it can only mean one thing.

Her slap is capable of petrifying anyone, except those who have already found their true love. The reaction from all NRC students is like "What the F-?!" And Riddle's reaction is getting his face red, slightly different from his usual red of anger.

She starts to feel sorry for herself and jealous of you for having someone who loves you so much to the point of doing all that and still being immune to her slap. While she is lamenting, the guard who is in love with her ends up declaring himself and such, and that ending of her discovering that she is also in love is what happens.

After everything, while the others are tidying up and cleaning the Cafeteria, you and Riddle leave the room to talk alone.

“I just wanted to clarify what happened.” He still couldn’t look at you. “About the things I said.” You ask if it was about that thing about him telling the ghosts to give you back to him. And he blushes. “Yes. I apologize. In no way was my intention to suggest that you were my property. That would be completely outrageous. But... I'm also not sure why I said those words specifically. I know there are more polite ways of saying what I intended but...”

“And what did you intend to say?” you ask. And to give him more confidence to tell the truth you add that you were very happy to see him showing up to rescue you. And about what the princess said about why he wasn't petrified by her. You say it in a way that conveys that your feelings could be mutual.

“I don't know about true love.” He says, finally looking at you. “But I know the anguish I felt when I found out what had happened to you. The anger I felt for what they did to you. And the fear I felt of losing you. I don't know if this is true love, but I know I've never felt and probably never will feel something so strong for someone who isn't more than a friend to me.” he takes your hands and takes them to his chest. “I wish I could say for sure that I love you, but that's what I need first: certainty. I've never felt this before and so I don't want to say something so meaningful without certainty.” He looks you in the eyes, with the most tender and sweet look and smile anyone could ever see on him. “But I do adore you.”

If you also declare yourself to him, it will be inevitable that your lips will meet each other.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[woso-dreamzzz]

Play, Sleep, Repeat

Arsenal Women x Teen!Reader

Summary: You're Katie's cousin

Katie has never quite understood you.

You'd always been on the fringes of her awareness.

She has all her siblings. Her close family is big. Her extended family is even bigger.

You're her cousin, on her mother's side.

She'd never really kept up with your life. She'd see you at family reunions maybe once, twice a year and it would all be a quick conversation before she moved on.

She'd never been close enough to her uncle, your dad, to really know what was going on the two of your lives. All she really remembers was that his wife (your mother) had left him and he was a single dad.

It was surprising to see the Arsenal announcement photo with you smiling at the camera, a big Ireland flag draped over your shoulders.

It should have made her feel bad that you didn't drop a text to say you were signing but Katie didn't even know you played football until the announcement so she decided that she didn't really have room to have her feelings hurt over it.

She had hoped this would be the opportunity for you both to grow closer but, as she looks at you now, horsing down your lunch, she kind of thought that was a pipe dream.

You get up immediately after finishing, avoiding the table with the other younger players and heading back out onto the pitch.

It was like clockwork with you. You were either crashed out asleep in the break room, eating like you'd been starved or practicing for hours before or after training.

"What's up with your cousin, McCabe?" Leah asks, watching you leave as well," She never hangs around."

Katie shrugs. "I dunno. She's always been like that, I think."

"You think?"

"She's being raised by her Da. I guess she's never been around this many girls in her life."

"Surely she played on a girl's team before coming here."

Katie shrugs again.

"You don't know?"

"I've got a big family, Williamson. I hardly see her back home. Sue me for not stalking her every move."

Kim slides into the seat next to her. "I'm worried about her," She says," She's always here early and she stays late too. I've never seen her Dad pick her up."

"So what? She's a big girl."

Kim raises a brow. "I wasn't worried because she promised me that you've been dropping her off."

"What? She told me Kyra was doing that."

Kim sighs. "I got her address off Jonas. Do you and Caitlin mind popping by tonight? I'd do it myself but she might respond better to you."

Katie stands at your door a few hours after training has finished. She'd been waiting in her car for a while now, unable to believe her eyes when you'd stepped off the bus barely ten minutes ago still in your training kit.

Her hand hovers over the door, unmoving.

Caitlin nudges her to the side, pressing the doorbell.

"Hey," She says when you open it," Can we come in?"

Your eyes dart to the side. "Er..."

"Is your Da in? I need to talk to him."

"Da's busy," You say.

"That's okay. We can wait." Katie barges in and Caitlin follows her before you can stop them.

"How long will he be?" Caitlin asks and your eyes dart to the door.

"Well..."

"Have you had dinner yet?" Katie asks," 'Cause your fridge is bare."

"Stop it!" You say, pushing her out of your kitchen," Stop snooping!"

"Are these takeout boxes?"

"Katie, I mean it! Out!"

"Nah, where's your Da? Surely, he can't be letting you eat all this crap."

You mumble a response that Katie forces you to repeat. A response that gets regurgitated to every responsible adult on the team.

Your Da didn't come with you to England. In fact, your Da hadn't even be to one of your Arsenal matches.

"He'll come when I make it into the Ireland squad," You'd told Katie and Caitlin," He promised."

The team keeps a close eye on you. Your back prickles with awareness and every time you look behind you, someone is watching.

Things change as well, slowly but surely. It's enough to put you on edge.

It starts with Caitlin and Katie driving you to practice. You usually leave hours ahead of when training starts so you can get the bus and still have time to practice before it begins.

(Maybe if you have a bit extra training then Gleeson will have no choice but to call you up for the next international break).

You have no idea how long they've been camping in their car because you get up stupidly early.

They bundle you in with them. They grab breakfast at a quaint place in town before getting you to training on time.

Next comes Kim. She sits with you at lunch and talks to you enough that you finish the same time as everyone else.

Leah helps you with your kit.

Lia sits with you on the bus.

Lessi, Vic and Kyra splash you with water during the changeover at training.

Beth lets you nap against her and Viv makes sure you have a protein shake ready for you when you wake up.

Slowly but surely, you're folded into the team that is Arsenal. You existed on the fringes of life in London, focused on nothing but finally having your father support you in football.

Now though, you have the team to celebrate your goals with. You have Katie shaking you with joy when you score the last minute winner against Everton.

You also have the text from your Da nitpicking your every move in the match.

You feel lucky that he even kept the match on with how shit you were apparently making. A few months ago, you would have gone back to your own habits. A few months ago, you would have ran until your legs gave out.

But it's no longer a few months ago.

So, you just put your phone away and let Steph ruffle your hair on the way back to her seat.

You're actually part of the team now. A key part of the team if you go off how many times you've started a match.

A key part of the time if you go by how you seamlessly tackle Cuthbert and send the ball rolling straight to Caitlin to collect. You're about to stand up but Cuthbert can't stay on her feet and she stumbles, falling with a sickening crunch onto your ankle.

The scream you let out is guttural and you push her off you to grab at your ankle, as if touching it would suddenly make it feel better.

You slap the ground with your fist and scream again. Leah comes sliding in next to you, pinning your ankle to the ground with a firm hand.

"I know," She says," I know but we need to keep it still. Just stay still."

"Leah," You sob," It hurts!"

"I know," She repeats," The physios are coming straight on. Just keep it still."

Katie comes running to you next, tucking your face into her chest as you sob, shielding you from the fans.

Caitlin has taken her job at yelling at the ref, desperate to get some kind of compensation even if it was all a complete reaction.

"I...I..." You manage to get out through your tears," I don't think Gleeson's going to call me up for the break."

Lia, who had gently removed your cleat, laughs. "You don't need to focus on that right now." She peals your sock down. "But it's nice that you've still got your sense of humour."

You hiss as someone else touches your ankle.

"Hey!" Katie snaps," Careful with her!" She turns back to you. "Can you walk?"

"I don't even think I can stand up."

"You're going to be okay," She says as the stretcher is brought on," They'll fit you with a boot and you'll come back to mine."

You groan. "God, not your place."

"What's wrong with my mine?!"

"You can't cook! Can I go to Kim's instead?"

"I think I preferred it when we didn't talk."

You grin. "Didn't your Ma ever tell you lying's bad?"