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jishyucks · 3 months

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Baby, Please Come Home – ldh

‣ pairing: lee donghyuck x reader

‣ genre: fluff !!!, established relationship

‣ wc: 2.0k

‣ summary: They weren’t lying when they said that the holiday season was the busiest time of year. With finals rolling around, gift shopping for your family, and keeping yourself in check, you barely have time to give your boyfriend the attention he wants. Donghyuck, however, has a way to work around this; alternatively, in which Donghyuck just wants one kiss and you think it’ll be funny not to give it to him

‣ warnings: clingy!hyuck (so it’s just hyuck being his normal self) and reader's a menace for not giving him the kisses (he deserves),, I tried to make it tooth-rottingly cute,,, keyword is tried

‣ an: honestly did this for me, I really needed something disgustingly cute with hyuck okay? (im serious, i was giggling writing this),,, this is lowkey so different from everything i’ve written which was why I was excited to write it >ᴗ< pls enjoy!

Series Masterlist

It’s 8 in the morning and you wake up before your alarm.

That alarm was your boyfriend.

Typically, your beauty sleep would be disrupted by Donghyuck bearing all of his weight on you, smothering you against the mattress. He’d pepper your face with kisses, whispering a short ‘good morning’ in between each of them. Then, he’d press his cheek right up to yours before he sighed at the warmth.

He’d always be the first one to wake up given that he made the dumb ass mistake of scheduling 8AMs for two semesters straight (only tolerating it because he could end the school day sooner), but the past week was different.

Donghyuck had finished his exams two weeks earlier than you—each one of them being planned back-to-back by the university—while your exams were spread apart, reaching right until the school closed for the holidays.

Sure, you preferred Donghyuck’s exam schedule, considering you had far more things to check off your list than you could keep track of, but it was just something you had to accept. You were going to be booked and busy for the days leading up to Christmas and you couldn’t do shit about it.

A guttural groan bubbles out from your chest as you go to roll out of bed, eyes still half-lidded. You’re already mentally preparing yourself for your day, listing and prioritizing everything you had to do and setting small goals you wanted to complete before dinner.

Yet, before you can leave the warmth of your bed, you find yourself restrained by two arms, tugging you backward and snugly pressed against the owner's body.

“Don’t go.”

“Hyuck, I have so much shit to do.” You try to escape Donghyuck’s hold, but when you struggle, you realize that he’s fixed you in his arms by interlocking his fingers.

He pulls you in closer, “Just for longer, please?”

You’re positioned so that Donghyuck was able to nestle his head in the crook of your neck, and you wanted nothing else than to just stay here for a little while longer. The room was chilly and the feeling of your boyfriend’s warmth made his touch a lot more alluring than it would usually be at such an ugly hour.

You shake your head. “Hyuck, you’re acting like we never cuddle.”

Donghyuck lets out a groan and you feel the vibrations of his throat against your shoulder, “I know, but you’ve been sooo busy lately and I never get to actually cuddle with you.” He presses his lips against your shoulder, kissing it before he buries his head deeper where it had been.

“Shut up, you big baby,” you snort. You elbow him softly in hopes that he’ll let you go, but he only does the opposite. And he doesn’t respond, simply settling with the wordless act of pulling you in even closer, “I need to go, babe.”

He says nothing and you’re convinced that he’s drifted back to sleep, breath steady and his hot breath brushing against your exposed skin. You take this as your sign to free yourself, nimbly prying his joined fingers open before barely slipping out of his arms.

“Sunshine~” Donghyuck murmurs into his pillow, his arms going limp.

“Later. I promise.”

You leave him be to get ready, shaking your head as you laugh at his behaviour. Donghyuck was and is clingy—and not in the irritating, almost toxic way. He was the endearing type of clingy, always finding ways to engage in skinship between the two of you. It's his love language, after all, so you’ve grown to learn to love it. You’re honestly surprised that the man hasn’t gone crazy with how scarce the physical touch has been lately, being that you weren’t home for the majority of the day.

Once you’ve gotten changed, you finish getting ready in the bathroom, not quite caring to put effort into the look for the day because you know you’re going to end up all haggard by the end of it.

Entering the kitchen, where your school materials were still scattered from the night before, you're met with the sight of Donghyuck sitting in the chair next to what will be your chair. Two mugs, both filled to the brim with hot coffee, were placed in front of the boy, who had his hands distinguishably crossed on his lap and posture being the straightest it's been since birth.

“I made us coffee.”

There’s a comically u-shaped grin placed on his lips and you want to laugh out loud.

“Thanks, Hyuckie.” You pull your chair back and sit in it, crossing your legs (criss-cross applesauce) before you go to turn your laptop on.

He waits for you to say or do something more, sitting in silence as he takes tiny sips from his coffee. His gaze feels intense as if he's trying to read your thoughts or burn holes through the sides of your face, and he hardly blinks, keeping his eyes focused on you with unwavering intensity.

“Lee Donghyuck quit staring at me.” You don’t lift your attention from your computer, bringing your mug up to your lips.

“Aren’t you going to give me a ‘thank you’ kiss?” From how he's talking, you just know he’s pouting, but you don’t want to look at him, knowing that one look at your boyfriend would send you down a spiral of distractions—and frankly, you really couldn’t afford any distractions right now.

“Nope.”

“Even just one little peck on the cheek?” An ugly sound comes out from underneath you, coming straight from Donghyuck moving his chair along the hardwood floors. “Please?”

“Nope.” Donghyuck angles his head so that he is almost blocking the view of your computer, “Please? Just one on my cheek, or on my forehead—”

“I said later, remember, babe?” Your eyes flicker to meet his own and then you look away, “I promised, too.”

You’re a bit relieved when he says nothing. Instead, he stands up and heads to the living room. Although there was a tiny part of you worried that you might have upset him, you know Donghyuck, and he rarely lets small things bother him.

If anything, he was likely just scheming up another way to persuade you into giving him a kiss.

Pushing through a few more topics, you almost forget that Donghyuck was still in the apartment with you. That is until he starts whistling aloud as if trying to create the illusion of being occupied.

Unbeknownst to you, he’s making his merry way over to you, concealing something small behind his back. Once he's right behind you, he reveals it, holding it up for both of you to see.

His shuffling pulls you out of your state of focus, “Yes, Hyuck?”

“Look up.”

You’re not sure what to expect when it comes to Donghyuck, but you look up nonetheless, deciding to take a break and actually follow his wishes. You let your head fall back to look at whatever the hell this boy was up to now.

“Mistletoe~” Donghyuck sings. He smiles, the chub at the top of his cheeks covering the bottom half of his eyes.

You glare at him, “Babe, that’s a random leaf.”

Maybe Donghyuck has gone crazy.

He pouts, “Can’t you pretend?”

“No,” you attempt to refocus on your work, trying to block out the fact that Donghyuck was waving a leaf in front of your face as if it would genuinely convince you to give him a kiss.

Honestly, at this point, it would’ve been easier for you to simply give your boyfriend a peck on the lips and have him leave you alone, but you’re honestly not hating the attention he’s giving you. That, and you wanted to see if he’d do anything else to earn your affection.

You continued on with your day as usual, scanning through familiar topics and thoroughly rereading your weaker ones. Surprisingly, Donghyuck’s chance of receiving a kiss from you relied on the scruffed-up leaf he had probably plucked from one of your house plants, and he hadn’t chosen to switch up his strategy.

“I thought you liked Christmas and the holiday season and winter,” Donghyuck lists, following you around the apartment. You’ve now checked your study session off of your list and you were preparing to go out for errands and brief Christmas shopping. (Spoiler alert: you weren’t dragging your boyfriend along with you).

“I do.”

He frowns, “Then why aren’t you upholding the mistletoe rule? We’ve been under it a million times today and I got no kisses from you.”

“That’s because it’s not mistletoe, Hyuck.” You slip your puffer on before forcefully pushing your feet into your sneakers. Donghyuck follows you to the door, leaf still in hand the same way a kid holds their stuffed animal. “I’ll see you later, okay? If you need anything while I’m out just text me.”

“No goodbye kiss?”

“Later.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Your phone buzzes while you’re in line for checkout.

Loml ‹𝟹

just remembered what I needed

Loml ‹𝟹

a kiss from u :(

You (lovingly) roll your eyes and respond.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

You were exhausted and starving, the arches of your feet aching from taking you from one place to another. You’d say today was a success, having checked off all of your to-do’s for the day.

You’re out of breath from lugging the bags down the hall and you’re not sure whether your fingertips felt cold because of Jack Frost or from the weight of the bags cutting circulation. But at this point, after you’ve finally managed to turn the key with your knuckles, it was a reward simply being able to drop the bags by the door.

“Babe, I’m home!” It’s odd when you’re returned with no greeting at the door, something you’ve grown used to ever since you moved in together. “Babe?”

You move deeper into your home, the fatigue momentarily forgotten. The absence of the familiar sounds—no running shower, no clicking of Donghyuck's keyboard, no loud singing—piqued your curiosity.

Your gaze scans the main area of your home. The dining table lights were on, a pot of kimchi jjigae sitting on the stove, the hallway to the bedroom was off, no lights leaking through any door cracks… where the hell was he?

“Hyuck?”

Heading to the living room, you finally catch sight of your boyfriend knocked out on the couch. It's a downright adorable scene—knees pulled up to his chest, hair sticking out in different directions, and his arms dangling off the sofa. You wonder how long he’s been there for.

When you round the couch to get to him, you almost laugh out loud at the sight of that damn leaf still clutched in his hand. It was sitting in his loosening grip, creased and worn out from the way it's been handled. Donghyuck was committed to getting a kiss from you. And now you almost feel bad that you’ve left him hanging for the whole day.

You kneel down so that your face is right in front of Donghyuck’s, “Hyuck.”

He doesn’t stir until sink your index finger into his cheek.

“Sunshine?” He calls, eyes still closed.

“Did you eat?”

Donghyuck’s eyes open in the slightest before he shakes his head, “I was waiting for you.”

Your heart melts.

You’ll never get used to that.

“Let’s eat, then.” You bring your hand up to brush his hair out of his face before tracing your thumb over his moles, “I’m starving.”

He shakes his head and whines, “Not before I get my kiss.”

“My kisses before kimchi jjigae?” You say, feigning shock. You bring a hand up to your chest and let your mouth fall open for effect.

Donghyuck doesn’t give you a verbal reply. Instead, he looks back at you with the look he knows damn well you couldn’t resist, pout on his lips and everything.

You sigh, “Just one.”

That was a joke—you weren’t the only one here dying for a kiss (or rather, give kisses).

Bringing your lips up to his face, you pepper the man’s face in kisses, making sure that there is not one spot that you’ve missed. Donghyuck’s face melts into a soft smile, eyes closing as he lets you move his head around so that you can plant your lips wherever you want.

Before you could pull away, Donghyuck reaches up to cradle your cheek, urging you to come back down to press his lips onto yours.

“Just one.” Donghyuck echoes before he pushes himself to sit up, hair still a mess.

“You’re crazy if you think I prefer kimchi jjigae over your kisses.”

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @lovesuhng @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi @reignessance

an: hyuck looks like he has the most kissable cheeks ever im sorry,, i just had to put that out there

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xxkiller-muffinxx · 4 months

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That's my girl

John Dory x reader part 2/2

Summary: John Dory shows up out of nowhere (again), but with that he brings trouble, the trouble of the mind and the heart.

Words: 2582

Warnings: too much fluff, it hurts- also still no color coding cuz I'm lazy and when I'm writing this its almost midnight.

A/N: welp, this is longer than my usual. Yeah this is part 2 to a thing that honestly wasn't supposed to be in parts, but new years was banging so you know I had to. Little Thing, if the caterpillar snail confuses you, imagine a motor bike, I tried to word it better: but some things are just not made to make sense. Aso don't judge the gif choice man, desperate times come for desperate measures. I forgot to add tags again 😔

➷➹➷

For a while, you kept your distance again. Wondering how this all happened. How everything went downhill for you so fast. Now that you have the house to yourself you now have a lot of dead air to think about. (Your dad’s not dead, he just wanted to seek a path in white water rafting. Whatever that means.)

You silently read an old scrapbook, it was your favorite genre and you loved just sitting down and getting to the end. Especially on rainy days like these. Right as you got to the climax there was a knock on the door. Admittedly you aggressively rolled your eyes.

You closed the book and set it aside, who's knocking at this hour? Right before midnight? Your book needs reading! your fish needs walking! You don’t have a fish, you're just irritated, you can’t read your book. As you closed in on the door you stopped. What if it’s an intruder? Or worse, a monster who suddenly gained the sentience to knock! You would never know until-

“Buttercup?” John Dory’s voice shakes through the door, There’s faster knocking. “It's cold out here!”

You've never opened a door so fast in your life.

As soon as John made it inside you glared hard at him. You wanted to scold him but your silent anger was getting nowhere. He was too busy admiring the inside of your home. Then his eyes landed on you.

You breathed heavily, walking over to grab your book and then walking back to him. He gave you the same dumb, doe-eyed look he always does when he's gotten himself in a bit of trouble. You gently slapped the book on his stomach then walked to put it on the shelf. His quiet shocked laugh brought you back to the center.

You pointed for him to sit and quickly made him some hot cocoa perfect for the season. You walked over and sat next to him. Handing him the glass. “Thanks Buttercup. You mean the world to me.” He chugged the hot cocoa, just fast enough to not catch the break in your calmness traded for bashfulness.

When you calm back down, you cross your arms. Your nose flaring and your lip pouting. John looks you in the eyes, his lips pursing as he thought about a good response. “Can you blame me? You have me wrapped around your finger.” He says playfully.

Your eyebrow raises. You don’t flinch or retreat. You narrow your eyes at him. His grin falls as he catches your unwavering worry. “I uh. I just missed you. It’s been a week and I wanted to see you. At least once.” When you didn’t accept that as an answer he got a little frustrated. “I know that isn't a good excuse but what do you want from me? To let the one person I've had close in years just drop out like that?”

Your other eyebrow raised, silently asking if he was okay. Then in a moment you caught his cockiness slip. That's when you knew something was wrong. You leaned forward and looked into his eyes ruffling his hair to gain his attention. His eyes met yours and it didn't take him long to pull out a vinyl. “It's the only way I could talk about my feelings to you without being a coward.” he blushed deeply. You cock your eyebrow again then roll your eyes. You stood up and went to put it on your record player.

(feel free to listen then move on or not listen at all)

As the song plays, you listen to the lyrics, your back to John as you listen to the words. His soft voice played on the track and you could almost hear the sweat dripping from his forehead. You were too focused on the lyrics to even look at him.

Your skin, oh, yeah, your skin and bones.

Turn into something beautiful

You know, you know I love you so

You know I love you so.

Then it clicked. This wasn't him just showing you a brozone song. No, no heaven knows you listened to Brozone’s music and it's nothing like this. This is gentle and soft. Not throw yourself into a dance song, but that's what you wanted to do. Take his hand and gently dance with him.

However, when you realize that's wanted, the song is already over. You took a while to realize it, but what had transpired wasn't platonic. Not anymore. It was the bridge that led two ways. You just had to figure out which was which.

“Yeah-” John’s voice cuts you free from your mind. “It's not much, it's kind of rushed. Is that weird? That you were gone for a week and I realized I…I can't even say it out loud. I'm…interested. In you. I wanted to see if you wanted to see where this was going.”

You turn around finally, your hand covering your mouth and your otheraying across your stomach. You wondered how you probably looked crazy, but you didn't care. At least not until he pointed out what should have been obvious. You were crying.

“Buttercup! I didn't mean, oh shoot I didn't think that I'd- I'm sorry I take it back!” He gently began panicking. The pacing panic. You wiped your face and looked at your hands, sure enough you were crying. You shook your head, unsure how to tell him that you were okay, just moved by the fact he'd write a song for you.

He took that as rejection and frowned. “Yeah. Yeah. I get it. It's okay. I understand.” he was about to turn around when you grabbed his arm. Damning your inability to speak. You looked around for a piece of pen and paper. However, there was nothing. (you were not writing in your precious book.)

You were scrambling, trying to communicate, but you were only tearing up and crying more. You grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly. Your eyes watery and your nose red and puffy. He looked away then looked at you. “I am so confused right now.” JD squeezed your hand in return.

You did the unexpected. In a fit of confused, misguided, and intolerant anger. You grabbed his face and kissed him. Right then and there. When you pulled away your eyes were wide and so were his. You were about to move away when he just pulled you back in for another kiss.

The second kiss is more sweet and dedicated than the first, your hands moving to gently press into his chest. His hands gently held your head and waist as if you were to fall. It made you feel safe.

Then you both pulled away relaxing into your spots across from each other and your face turned beet red again. How dare he need that good of a kisser? you were just proving a point and now you're the one wrapped around his finger. You try to look away but with his hand snugly holding your head, you couldn't physically do so.

In silence, John Dory’s smile grew from a smirk to a dopey grin. You felt a wave of embarrassment pass through you. “Sweet mother of all things Trolly! You never cease to surprise me Buttercup!” he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up, spinning you around as you giggled very softly again. He then pulled you in for a hug. “I'm glad you feel the same. You don't know how much it means to me.”

You guys stayed in a hug for a while. He was holding you so tight that it felt like he'd never let go, ever. Then you got an idea. You pulled away first, and that admittedly made him confused. You walked to the record player and played his song again. Offering him your hand.

He laughed, grabbing your hand and pulling you in for a dance. Not a fast dance, just a slow dance, A comfortable dance. Youve never felt so warm and cozy in your life. Maybe your book can wait for a few more hours. You're not in a rush.

⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠

For the next few years you would have a casual relationship. To the point where no one inherently knew you were dating until John would make some sweet comment about you with your back turned.

As you rode gently into your 30s John was right there beside you. Celebrating each birthday, bigger than the last. You were grateful you got stuck with a guy like John, every day was like a gossip story and he'd tell you every fact about Brozone there ever was. You soon became the team’s number-one fan.

That was, until the unexpected happened. John Dory received a message from his brother that he was in danger. Locked in a diamond prison that only the perfect family harmony could save him from.

“So I have to find my brothers, then save Floyd.” He’d proclaim to you. You raised an eyebrow as you picked up his mess in the bus, he'd probably be taking it and if there were any guests you'd want them to be comfortable. “You know…” he turned around to greet you, walking to throw the trash in the bin outside.

You gave him a look, you knew what he was going to say. “You could come with me, meet my brothers? Join in on the adventure?” he’d ask before you shook your head. You gestured outside and then walked up to him to gently kiss his cheek. “Yeah, I get it, but you're still meeting my brothers, I don't know what I'll have to do for that to happen but you will.” he kissed your forehead and got behind the wheel. You let him know you love him then walk out of his bus to not wait any longer.

You walk to the front of the bus and pet the armadillo before stepping back, and waving goodbye. As he left a pit rolled up in your stomach. A worry pit. You felt like you should've gone with him, but you'd only slow him down. So you went inside. Deciding its a good time to catch up on some reading.

⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠

You learned to live with the pit after a while, you used a small messenger creature to send little I love you notes, but you haven't gotten anything in return. It made it worse, and then right as it neared sundown on the second day he was gone, you had had enough. You walked outside. Going to the corner to pull something out of your sleeve that he’d never expect.

⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠

After the show, John was laughing backstage at something Clay said, holding his stomach as him and his brothers all laughed in unison. He was the first to stop laughing, and when he did. He saw his entire family. Laughing together as if it were the holidays. Which is around a troll’s happiest time.

All that was missing was…

JD’s eyes shot up and he placed a hand on your forehead. “Oh shoot, Buttercup! Oh geez-” he looked up dusting himself and pulling his jacket more clothed and preparing to leave when Bruce chimes in.

“Where are you headed, John?” He’d ask. His voice laced with familiar suspicion. The entire room looks at him, as if awaiting the incredible response he'd spew out now. John stuttered quietly. Then leaned on a wall next to him.

“I have a misses I have to get home to thank you very much.”

There was silent, for a whole minute straight until laughter amongst the brothers (except Floyd honestly) rang out. Everyone's eyes briefly snapped to them. Viva slapped Clay’s arm and he went quiet for a second only to start dying laughing again. Branch wiped a tear and crossed his arms. “You? You have a “misses”? you're just full of surprises.”

JD laughs softly, confused, his brothers are laughing “I'm serious, they're perfect. I want you all to meet them so badly, but they stayed to take care of things there.” He crosses his arms tight over his chest, deciding to just smile through the pain.

JD ignored all the mindless snorts and chuckles after that comment, or tried to anyway. He shook his head “ you'll see, I'll introduce them to you guys and I'm gonna be laughing at you guys!” He walks out to the stage to head home that way.

He grumbled slightly, angry that his brothers would doubt him, but could you blame them? They are brothers after all. he's not grumbling for long because the sound of a growling animal snaps him out of his thoughts. Within an instant, something shoots from the dark, surrounding him in a dirt cloud and the sound of a creature going “meeeeeeeeh” like a motorcycle.

John screamed, a comically loud scream. That attracted everyone inside. They all rushed out only to see the scene unfolding before them. “Hey!” Branch was the first to yell. “Leave our brother alone!” the others banded together and got into fighting poses until everything stopped.

The loud noises, fast movements, and it was just silence for ten seconds until emerging from the cloud was a figure with bucket helmet, and sunglasses over the front. The creature they were riding on was some sort of caterpillar snail, similar to a motorbike.

John looked up at the figure and grinned awkwardly. When the person takes off their mask he gasps louder than he's ever gasped before “BUTTERCUP!” He shoots up. Wrapping you in his arms and lifting you high into the air.

You giggle and wrap your arms around his head until he puts you down. You take off your shades and swing your hair a little bit to get rid of the helmet shape. He was so excited to see you he could explode. “You gave me a good scare, I'm sorry I didn't go home right after saving Floyd I just had to catch up with everyone and do a show with them one last time, you had to see the show, in fact, I think someone recorded it, I'll get that to you as fast as possible!”

“Who is that?” Clay asked, a bit too accusingly. You blush and hide behind JD in fear. He crackles and pushes you forward.

He holds you tight as he introduces you by name. “They are my buttercup, my everything. The one who kept me afloat during all my turmoil. The one who-” You slap him in his arm, causing him to laugh. You bow your head to greet them.

Then you all gather around to talk, enjoying meeting the brothers for the first time. Branch is just the definition of sweet and sour, his girlfriend is the whole package everything you'd want in a party planner honestly. Floyd was the perfect sweetheart and Clay was fun to watch with his small misadventures with Viva. Bruce was definitely the one who talked to you the most, asking you genuine questions about why the hell John dory of all people. You answered as modestly as possible, not having an answer at that moment.

Then you caught sight of John wallflowering. You frowned and walked over, leaning on the same wall he was. He smiled at you, his gaze lingering oh yours for a minute before he kissed your cheek gently. You raised a brow. He laughed softly. “That's my girl.” he’d say before wrapping an arm around you lovingly.

End

#Spotify #fanfiction #trolls #trolls band together #trolls fandom #trolls fanfic #trolls fanfiction #trolls franchise #trolls x reader #dreamworks trolls #trolls 3 #john dory trolls #john dory x reader #trolls john dory #john dory #M

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genericpuff · 3 months

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Lore Olympus Episode 265 Betrays the Series' Own Messages of Consent

I've been keeping it on the down low lately with new episodes of LO, both for the sake of my mental health and because LO itself has just become so... pointless and boring. There's only so much to say when nothing is happening, and in that regard, I will preface this with a "congratulations" towards Rachel, because she's finally found a way to best the "haters" - make the comic so boring that there's nothing worth talking about to begin with.

At first glance I thought this was going to be another one of those episodes. Good job, Rachel, you managed to pad out another episode with pointless fluff to get you closer to that looming end date. Just keep dragging, just keep dragging, just keep dragging-

But the longer I sat on it, and read the comments and posts about it in discussion circles, the more I've realized that this episode in particular has a load of issues that I don't feel good just sitting on and not talking about. Primarily because, over the course of about 90% of this episode's length, we see Lore Olympus - and Rachel - slyly undo everything that ever mattered in its subtext about consent, healthy relationships, and strong communication.

Granted, Lore Olympus has never exactly been the poster child for those things, but it's trying to be, so we're going to dissect it with an equal amount of scrutiny. It wants to be taken seriously, so I'm going to take it seriously and criticize it seriously.

CONTENT WARNING: EPISODE 265 SPOILERS AHEAD, AS WELL AS DISCUSSION OF SEXUAL ASSAULT, MENTAL HEALTH, GROOMING, AND SYMPTOMS OF MANIA, PROCEED WITH CAUTION

Episode 265 opens with an attempt at plot progression, returning to Morpheus who, last we checked, had been targeted by Kronos as the cliffhanger for Episode 259 before being shoved aside entirely for multiple episodes worth of Demophoon, pool-fucking, and a vision from Hera.

Honestly, I won't waste my 30 image limit on the episode's opening sequence because it accomplishes absolutely nothing. And by the time it starts to try and state what that goal is, it transitions away, because Rachel has the attention span of a squirrel on meth and having Morpheus state what her plan is would just be too much dedicated writing for her at this point, she needs another week at least to figure it out.

So instead we get exactly what was promised in the FastPass previews - the entire episode is spent, yet again, on Hades and Persephone, with the exact same topics, conclusions, and terrible sex as the pool scene.

Seriously, this might be a nitpick, but I'm so tired of Persephone not being allowed to swear. We've seen other characters swear. We've even had Kronos call her a "dumb fucking bitch". But this "girlboss" character who we're supposed to believe has "agency" can't be allowed to swear even when they're in an ACTUALLY STRESSFUL SITUATION? You know purity culture isn't exclusive to sex, right, Rachel? If you're gonna deconstruct it, maybe don't have the poster child of that deconstruction be relegated to a church girl? She's literally the Queen of the Underworld - adjacent to the ruler of Hell - let her fucking swear LMAO

Anyways, we see very quickly that Persephone is still feeling the ill effects of her anxiety that she was feeling in the last episode. Anxiety that, by the way, caused her to pass out. Please keep that in mind, don't let it escape.

And what is she stressing over? The genocide? The fact that they still don't have an actual solution to the ongoing "plague"?

Nah. The sleep dive. She's stressing over her husband doing the sleep dive again and - like last time - turning into a dad-possessed monster.

As always, the fear and anxiety is in no way linked to the actual devastation happening outside - it's just concern for the main male lead, because that's all Persephone's character and thoughts and opinions and "agency" can revolve around.

But uh. Remember that scene where Hades got possessed by Kronos and literally strangled her? Remember that scene I just asked you to keep in your brain about her panic attacks getting so bad she's been passing out?

Hello? No? Okay. Next.

I hate, I loathe, I detest this dialogue. Not because it's cliche as fuck - it is - but because the whole "I trust you, it's just xyz I don't trust" shit has been overplayed and debunked as a plausible response in relationship communication for years now.

We talked about this back during our discussion of Leuce - how it shouldn't matter if Persephone doesn't trust Leuce because ultimately Leuce can't do anything to her or Hades' relationship if it's built on as much "trust" as she claims it is, trusting Hades is all that should matter full stop - and it repeats itself here, albeit with Hades' dad instead of his canon first wife. This is a copout. Relationships actually built on trust can definitely still be worried about the issues posed by other people, but if you trust your partner, if you truly trust your partner, that's it. That's where the sentence ends. No shit you don't trust Kronos, we've been over this song and dance multiple times before and while he's definitely a bigger real threat than Leuce, your distrust for Kronos has nothing to do with how you're communicating with your partner who knows there's likely no other way and a solution has to be found. Nothing's being accomplished at this point from Persephone moping around and having sex with her husband, and he's showing 10x more initiative in actually finding a solution - even if it means putting his own safety at risk - than Persephone.

I didn't edit any of that, those are the legit real panels. Literally what the fuck is this dialogue, my tinfoil hat theory about LO being written by ChatGPT is becoming more and more plausible and I hate that, my crackpot theories shouldn't actually become reality.

Is there an owl in here?

LO is just spinning its wheels over the exact same conversation and points that have already been made. Nothing is being accomplished here, it's just more moping and going over the same problems - the centre of which being "what about H x P's relationship?? :(((("

All of that repetitive meandering and moping for "okay fine but if anything feels weird, get out" "okay". It, again, accomplishes nothing that couldn't have been accomplished during the pool scene.

And now we get this line. "I experienced greed in that way, and you do not possess it." Don't be alarmed if you were confused, I was confused too, as were many people in the discussion circles. Thanks to the ULO Discord, I realized she was talking about Apollo. She's literally comparing him to Apollo.

"After all this time, I can't comprehend you causing me harm. I've been at the receiving end of harm so I would know" is literally all she's trying to say. And even with it translated... I don't really like the implications of it at all. This has been a problem since S1, but there's always been this subtext in LO that because Hades didn't rape her, that somehow makes him less abusive or a better partner for Persephone than Apollo, that's all the SA has really been trying to achieve.

But Hades is abusive. He's intentionally pursued women who are in a crisis. He's trapped women in financial dependency. He's sabotaged women from having power and status on the same level as him.

And now, we're about to see actual abuse from Hades - the subtle kind that demands co-dependency, but is still abuse, full stop - but it's being framed as "romantic".

"Being an Originals creator was my big chance to prove myself, and I flopped"- wait sorry I misread. We're talking about Persephone failing at being Queen. Yeah, she definitely flopped. And it goes to show her true intentions in wanting to be Queen, now that she's hit rock bottom and isn't putting on a brave PR face - she wanted to become Queen not to make the Underworld a better place, not to be an example of being a better ruler among a gallery of scumbags, but to "prove" that she could belong and be one of the big guys, that she could be more than just a cereal box mascot.

Don't get me wrong, I can absolutely get wanting to rise above the odds and "prove" to everyone that you can be more than people's perceptions of you, but becoming the literal ruler of a realm that you then go on to destroy due to your own hubris, just to whine and cry about it and have your husband and your colleagues and your friends carry the burden of that destruction on your behalf... therapy would have been a better first step to overcoming those insecurities, not taking control over the lives of innocent people.

Especially when Persephone DID have status and power before becoming Queen, it just wasn't the specific kind of status and power she wanted. She was only a trust fund child with a huge net worth, a full-ride scholarship, and everything she could ever need provided to her with little struggle to get it - but she didn't have control over other people so it just wasn't good enough.

This is the perspective and attitude of a 19 year old who never matured. Who never could mature because she transitioned from her mother's control into Hades'. There were far better ways to prove herself, ways that we had seen her try to do, only to drop so she could pursue her co-dependent relationship with Hades - she gave up her schooling, gave up her apartment (which we only see her use maybe 2-3 times), gave up so many of her connections and support so she could be with Hades.

This is the result of 5 years of real-time grooming that we're seeing play out.

No, you are just saying them because she's your wife. You'd be saying it to Minthe, or Leuce, or Hera, or any other woman in Persephone's position because it's not about taking accountability, it's about keeping these women in a position of submissiveness and co-dependency, by giving them reassurance that nothing they ever do is wrong and that he's the only one that can give them that freedom from consequences.

And then we get the reinforcement.

I'm gonna spare you all the cringe of the actual sex scene (and yes, they do straight up go into having onscreen sex and it's... not hot at all), but here's some of the dialogue spoken by Hades during the entire sequence:

Again, let's remember the actual situation that led up to this and the position Persephone is currently in. For the third time Persephone has "accidentally" killed thousands of people. Over the past few episodes we've seen her try to realize how so many of these problems have been her fault and she clearly doesn't know how to make things right (and Rachel has made it obvious how much she doesn't want you to agree with this kind of self-awareness because much of it is being said through the mouthpiece of a rapist). And now we have Hades, reinforcing the thought patterns that would prevent her from growing and learning and changing. In this, a comic that's supposed to be "feminist", a comic that's trying to preach the importance of consent, a comic that's trying to make us believe this is a healthy, consenting relationship with strong communication skills.

These are literally grooming tactics. Hades is reinforcing the same thought patterns that will prevent Persephone from acknowledging her errors and mistakes. People are dying and Hades is telling her that if anyone has anything to say about it, they deserve to die anyways. The same man who literally rewarded her with sex for vandalizing a nymph's home is now telling her that she's not cruel, but kind:

Hades might not be Apollo, but he literally choked her out less than a week ago while possessed by his dad, and for the last SEVERAL episodes he's had the starry skin making him resemble who? Oh yeah, his dad.

Hades is literally holding Persephone in the same position Kronos did, while she's experiencing a literal meltdown that she's trying to stuff deep down - in fact, exhibiting a LOT of symptoms of mania - and initiating sex.

Doesn't this feel a little familiar?

Oh right, but he asks her if she's "still okay" mid sex only AFTER initiating chokehold sex with her without her consent and love-bombing her, so it's fine, clearly.

I remember being 17 years old and reading Fifty Shades of Grey for the first time, and even then understanding fully how toxic their relationship was. I can only hope the teenagers in Rachel's comment section can realize that as well, but judging by the comment section, I'm not holding out hope. This is literally "fifty shades of fucked up" material, and what's worse is that I can't tell if Rachel genuinely thinks this is healthy, or just doesn't realize how unhealthy it's coming across as. Even beyond how "cringe" this sequence is, it enters into the realm of being deeply uncomfortable and unsettling, and it needs to be talked about, Rachel can't be let off the hook for this especially when this is supposed to be, again, a comic that's intending to "deconstruct purity culture" and teach young girls about consent and boundaries.

And that's it, that's the end of the episode. It reads like the manifesto of a villain in the making at the hands of a predator, like Anakin being manipulated by Palpatine - "so long as you're with me, you'll have all the power, all the glory, and everyone else will be crushed underneath your heel."

Is that really the message we really want to come away from LO from? That it's fine for husbands to initiate sex with their wives through trauma-bonding and reinforcement of toxic thought patterns rooted in grooming because... they're married? That being a "girlboss" means sabotaging and abusing anyone who you perceive as a threat?

Is Hades really that much different from Apollo? Because so far, the line between his actions and Apollo's are seriously starting to blur. The parallels between Persephone and his past partners - Minthe and Hera - have always been clear, but they've never been quite so loud as last night's episode.

This is Hades' play, the play of a groomer and an abuser who depends on making their victims dependent on them - taking advantage of women while they're in a crisis.

For Minthe, it was financial - she had lost her job, blamed it on him, and he found a way to "solve her problem" that strategically put her into a position where she had to continue to financially depend on him for what's assumed to at least be a year or longer, through her apartment, her bills, and her job.

For Hera, it was emotional - she had chosen Zeus over him, and instead of addressing her marital concerns within the marriage, she participated in an affair with Hades in an attempt to have what she could have had if she had chosen Hades instead, a man who resembles her own abuser. Not only did this put her into a much more vulnerable position than him - if the affair was found out, Hera would have suffered the consequences far more than Hades - but it's also manifested itself into Persephone, who Hera has been using as a stand-in for herself, even going so far as to manipulate Persephone's image and how she goes about her decision-making, from intentionally pulling the strings to get Persephone a job with Hades so she could get closer to him as a "test" for Hades, to forcing Persephone to wear a wedding dress she wanted her to wear over the one Persephone had actually picked out herself.

And now there's Persephone, the newest addition to the cycle of abuse and untreated trauma, the true culmination of Hades' years trapping and manipulating women - financially dependent on him, emotionally dependent on him, and only where she is because she's made her entire identity revolve around him.

I'm not going to psychoanalyze Rachel in any way, I don't want anyone to think that this is permission to do so because Rachel's personal life is her own and I want to examine the material rather than the person. But so much of LO gives me such a gross impression that Rachel herself never matured past middle school, that she never grew beyond the mindset of being a 13 year old girl who felt like the entire world was against her and that no one could understand her, that she never gained the perspective most adults do by the time they're 25 at minimum after they've entered the "real world" and had the lived experiences that make you realize "wow, that girl I hated in high school for stealing my crush from me probably wasn't as bad as I thought she was and we were all just teenagers trying to navigate the hellscape that is adolescence."

And instead of actually analyzing those thought patterns and mindsets, Rachel is instead reinforcing it in her own audience of 13 year old girls and teenagers who will only hopefully maybe outgrow it and not just repeat the cycle themselves.

And this isn't entirely on Rachel's shoulders. It's on the shoulders of E.L. James, of Stephanie Meyer, of Colleen Hoover, of every "young adult" romance author who's peddled this strictly heteronormative "submission culture but not like the 1950's kind I swear" crap, that women should only aspire to find the richest man they can bag in their pursuit for power and after that everything in the world is owed to them and any problem they have can be solved by riding dick. Trauma? Solved. Genocide? Solved. The very real consequences of your own actions that affect others to such a degree that it will be felt for decades? Solved. Just ride that dick and get that money, girlboss.

Just like 50 Shades of Grey, if Lore Olympus was any other story, it would be a tragedy. It would be a masterclass in understanding and showcasing the signs of emotional abuse, financial abuse, grooming, trauma-bonding, love-bombing, and enforcing co-dependent habits for the sake of trapping people. It would be a precautionary tale to young girls to stay alert and be wary of older men, that men like Hades are depending on girls to fall for their tricks, their praise, their affirmations that they're so mature for their age, that they're not like other girls, that they would just be so set for life if they spent all their time and attention with them, so that they can "have it all".

I can only hope that even a third of the young girls who read LO naturally grow up, gain perspective, and learn that LO isn't the pillar of healthy relationships and consent that it tries to be. It's certainly a common thing to see these days, for people to join the UnpopularLoreOlympus / #antiloreolympus community with sentiments that they started reading it at age 14 and then (thankfully) learned that what LO was preaching wasn't healthy.

But for every other girl who doesn't realize this, it's reinforcement of the same cycles - the cycle of women being only objects for sex, pitting themselves against one another, confusing gender empowerment with abuse towards others, and making their entire identity revolve around a man and justifying it as healthy so long as it makes them rich and powerful.

Even if Rachel some day gets her own head out of her ass and realizes what damage she's causing in her audience, like Persephone committing genocide, no amount of self-awareness will undo the consequences. She'll still have the awards, the money, the accolades, everything she's gained off the backs of Greek myth, feminism, and good faith from an immature audience who doesn't know any better and isn't being given the tools to understand.

Even if she realizes that, that's something she's going to have to live with for the rest of her career.

And it's a fucking tragedy.

#lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #antiloreolympus

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its-time-to-write · 6 months

Note

I loveeee your taylor swift based jamie fics so i was wondering if u could maybe write one based on question..? You’re amazing at writing conflict between the reader and jamie but ofc ending with fluff and i feel like question is the oerfect outline for a fic like that. Thank you!

once again, I am slowly but surely finishing asks in my inbox! my hyperfixation has been awakened ever so slightly, as well as my need for new Jamie content. enjoy!

half-moon eyes

“What if I don’t go?” you suggest, sprawled out on Keeley’s couch.

“You have to,” Rebecca calls from the kitchen. “It’s non-negotiable.”

“I don’t even work for you,” you say, “so you literally cannot make me.”

Keeley grins devilishly next to you, feet propped up on the coffee table. “You don’t work for me either, and I can make you,” she says.

You groan. “C’mon, Keels, I’m not even on staff at Richmond. Why do I have to go to this benefit? It’s going to be a bunch of rich footballer twats.”

Rebecca places two glasses on the table and sits down. “You’re a rich twat. And you’re our friend. Besides, Keeley and I already bought your dress.”

“You what?” you yelp.

Keeley’s still grinning, except it’s all smug now. “Come on, babe, it’ll be fun. Free food, free booze. Hot men. Besides, it’s for a good cause. You love those.”

You drape an arm over your eyes and say, “Fine. I’ll go. But honestly, it’s just because Ted told me he’d help me get Roy on the dance floor.”

Rebecca and Keeley become a chorus of “oh, come on,” as they whack you with Keeley’s pink fluffy pillows.

—

Keeley and Rebecca are the absolute worst for picking out the dress they did, because it’s perfect.

It’s sleeveless with a halter neck, decorated with giant light blue sequins all the way to the floor, with a slit high enough to add some spice, but still low enough that you won’t feel the need to tug at it every five seconds.

And while you were correct about the rich footballers, you were a little bit incorrect about the “twat” part. Mostly.

You didn’t want to go to the benefit for the same reasons Keeley and Rebecca did want you to go.

Jamie fucking Tartt.

He does no favors for your “good girl” reputation, and yet you’ve found yourself completely enamored with him. You swear to Keels and Bec that it’s just his muscles and his eyes and nothing more, but they got you to admit that you also liked his personality and that’s when you knew you were done.

The whole point of being in a three-person friend group is so that at any given time, two of you can meddle in the third one’s love life.

It’s supposed to always be you and Keeley versus Rebecca, or you and Rebecca versus Keeley.

Not Rebecca and Keeley versus you.

They had successfully gotten you to spend time with Jamie during a team party, one where they snuck you in as Keeley’s emotional-support person then promptly ditched you to flirt with footballers/coaches of their own.

You’d sat in a corner with a book stolen from a shelf, trying to make yourself invisible. Unfortunately for you, Jamie has sharp eyes and a tendency to gravitate toward introverts.

But it doesn’t matter now. You’re in Rebecca’s car headed to that dumb benefit and gripping Keeley’s hand.

“Please don’t leave me this time,” you plead.

Keeley squeezes your hand twice. “Babe, it’s a bunch of people you know. And besides, how are you supposed to get in Jamie’s pants if you’re with me the whole night?”

Rebecca snorts out a laugh as you groan.

“I’m not trying to get into Jamie’s pants,” you say. “I’m literally only here because you made me.”

“Sure,” Keeley says. “And I’m a virgin.”

The car dissolves into laughter along with your nerves, and you feel as ready as you ever will to face the night.

—

“Two please,” you say to the bartender. He turns around to prepare Keeley and Rebecca’s drinks and you sigh, forearms on the counter.

“Rough night?” asks a teasing voice. You turn to see Jamie slide into the space next to you looking fit in a cream suit. He tilts his head a little bit, causing one dangly earring to sparkle in the light.

“Surprised to see you without a book,” he continues. “But no worries, you could always ask Roy for one of his. He’s always got one on him and I think he’s stored one up his-”

“Here you go,” says the bartender.

“Thanks,” you reply, nodding once to Jamie in a way that signals he can leave, but instead of doing so he follows you.

“I can take those,” he says, reaching for the drinks and you automatically hand them to him.

“Thanks,” you say again.

He tilts his head to look at you. “You’re fucking quiet tonight.”

You laugh once, short and grating. “Yeah, well, this isn’t really my thing. I got suckered into it and manipulated into wearing this dress and normally I’m not this uncomfortable, but I don’t really know many people here.”

“You know me,” Jamie says softly, and then you’re at the table.

Keeley looks up in surprise as Jamie hands her a drink but the surprise doesn’t last long before it’s replaced by devilish twinkle.

“Oh, are you two going dancing?” she says.

“N-no,” you stutter, “he was just-”

“Dancing sounds so fun,” Rebecca interjects. “I might join you in a song or two.”

“But we’re not-” you try again.

Rebecca quirks an eyebrow at you. “Aren’t you?”

You turn to see Jamie with his hand out. “Come on,” he says. “It’ll be fun. Swear down.”

You reach for him before your mind can tell you not to, and let him pull you onto the dance floor.

You aren’t the only ones there, it’s actually pretty busy, but there’s only one set of hands on you.

You’re letting Jamie Tartt into your space in a way that no man before has been allowed.

He’s crowding you a little bit, dancing close enough that you’re brushing up against each other and there isn’t really anywhere to go, but you’re fairly certain that the moment you indicated you needed space, he’d be gone.

He’s so close that it’s overwhelming, with the music loud in your ears and the smell of his cologne.

Time seems to slow, music fades, and all that exists are you and Jamie. He reaches out to touch your face and you lean closer, almost at eye-level due to your heels.

He pauses for just a moment so you surge forward and kiss him, vaguely aware of Keeley and Rebecca wolf-whistling somewhere nearby.

Sam looks over and starts clapping, and pretty soon all the Greyhounds within the vicinity are hollering and cheering. You blush and press your hands to your cheeks but Jamie just grins. It’s the cocky, “I got the girl,” grin.

So yeah, sue you if he ended up in your bed.

What were you going to do, act like you were immune to the way he looked at you? The way he talked to you like you were the most interesting person in the room? The way his lips peppered firm kisses up your neck and across your clavicle after you sneaked outside for some “fresh air?”

No, immunity was never an option.

Half of you said it was just a one-night stand and the other half… well the other half told you to consider the facts.

The facts were that you knew he was into you, like full-on romantically attracted because you’d seen his text thread with Keeley.

She hadn’t shown you exactly, just left her phone unlocked on her coffee table, angled toward you while she told you she was going to make tea and it was going to take a long time.

So maybe the way he threaded your hands together while he pressed his body to yours won’t be a one-off event. Maybe you’ll get another chance to hear your name from his lips like it’s the only word he knows.

Maybe.

Except you’re awake at 2am and he’s gone; no note, no text, no nothing. You know for a fact he’s not meeting Roy, so where exactly could he have gone?

You don’t know. You just know your bed is cold and empty and there’s a strange pit in your chest. Maybe Keeley was wrong, and he didn’t like you that much. Maybe he was just looking for one night of fun.

You’d be ok with that, if only you’d known ahead of time. If only you hadn’t gotten your hopes up.

—

It’s a good thing you don’t work at Nelson Road because it means you can avoid Rebecca, Keeley, Jamie, and Ted for some reason, because apparently Rebecca told him everything and he’s incredibly invested in getting Jamie a “good girlfriend.”

Instead, you go to work like normal and accept your coworkers’ invitation to go out.

Kevin got you all into some incredibly popular bar because his girlfriend’s a repo baby, and you can tell from the moment you walk in that it is not your vibe. You’re just grateful you asked what to wear ahead of time.

You go to the bar and say, “Two please,” and feel someone slide into the space next to you. You turn, half expecting it to be Jamie.

It’s not, but he is attractive, objectively speaking. You down your shots and smile as dazzling as possible.

If you’re going to be here, you might as well get the most out of your night. The man next to you smiles back so you take that as an invitation to move a little closer and start flirting.

He buys you a drink and you laugh at his stupid little jokes, reaching out just a little to touch his arm.

Your coworkers are doing there own thing and you’re debating whether or not you actually want to fuck this guy when you feel someone watching you.

You pause a moment to try to get the room into focus but before you can, someone is shouldering their way in between you and whatever this guy’s name is.

“Alright mate, time to go,” Jamie says, and the guy says, “Jesus, sorry, didn’t know she had a boyfriend.”

“I don’t,” you slur but he’s already gone.

Jamie turns to you and says, “I’m getting you home,”

Your skin is tingly and warm and there’s a pleasant haze in your mind, but not so pleasant that you forget the fact that you’re still a little mad.

“Kevin,” you mumble as Jamie slips an arm under your shoulder.

“Yeah yeah, told that rich prick that I was getting you home safe. Recognized him from your website.”

A less-drunk you would have latched onto the fact that Jamie had looked at your website long enough to recognize some of the people you worked with. As it is, all you can think about is sleep. Which reminds you

“Why’d you leave?” you ask as Jamie helps you into the passenger seat.

Jamie stills for a moment before continuing to buckle you in. He gets into the car and sits in silence for a moment.

“Dunno,” he finally says. “It- it was too real for a moment. We’re not the same at all. You’re fucking… good. I’m not, not really.”

“Bullshit,” you reply but you succumb to sleep before Jamie can ask you what you mean.

—

You’re in Jamie’s car again less than twenty-four hours later. Why you agreed to meet him, you’re not sure. But here you are in a deserted parking lot at 8pm, parked as far away from streetlights as possible. Your knees are pulled to your chest, and you’re grateful you opted to wear your favorite over-large hoodie. It gives you the illusion of security, like you can hide.

Jamie on the other hand is wearing a fucking brown Gucci track suit.

“Isaac gave it to me,” he says with a shrug, in response to your raised eyebrow.

That’s been the extent of your conversation for a solid minute, ever since you got out of your car and into his. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to talk first, but you’re not going to. He’s the one who invited you, he’s the one who can figure out what to say.

He does not disappoint.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have fucking left. Don’t really know what I were thinking.”

You snort out a laugh, but his worried face falls so abruptly that you immediately try to take it back.

You say, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed. It’s just that there’s no way you don’t know what you were thinking. You’re not stupid, you don’t just accidentally leave like that. And it’s not the leaving that’s the problem, it’s the fact that you didn’t tell me. Or talk to me after at all. So I’m just stuck in my own head trying to figure out what I did wrong.”

Jamie is shaking his head before you’re even halfway done. “You’re right, I do know what I was thinking. It’s like, you’re fucking brilliant, yeah? You do all this cool shit and make a difference and everyone fucking loves you. I went on a tv show to piss of me dad.”

He pauses, staring at the steering wheel. “If I woke up in the same bed as you, I’d start thinking we could be together. That I could have something- real, like. And that isn’t gonna fucking work.” He laughs, once, but it’s void of mirth.

You squint at him. “You could have at least tried.”

Jamie moves uncomfortably in his seat as he says, “That’s how I do shit, ain’t it? Fuck it up before it can fuck me up.”

You both relapse into silence, and you take stock of the way the nighttime glow sits on Jamie’s skin.

His features are softened, much like they looked in your dim bedroom light except this time, his eyebrows are knotted together.

You reach out to smooth them with your thumb before you can stop yourself.

Jamie sighs and leans into your touch and you find yourself cupping his face.

“What if we tried?” you whisper. “I bet we could do it. I’m really stubborn.”

He smiles a little at that, all wistful. “I’d do anything for you,” he responds, “Just don’t worry ‘bout it when it’s time for you to leave, yeah?”

—

What is it that Roy says, that you deserve someone who makes you feel like you’ve been struck by lightning?

You feel more like it’s a meteor.

It looks pretty as it shoots across the sky, almost like it’s a star, but then it lands on you and squishes you flat. There’s no electrifying current, just the inescapable, crushing weight of a giant rock that you thought you could wish on.

Two months. You made it two months with Jamie, and it felt like you were dancing on clouds right up to the moment you tripped.

It’s always something with him. Everything’s for PR, for an angle, for the game. Your relationship… it’s smothering.

It’s not smothering in the way you like, because let’s be real; you would be attached at his hip if you could.

But he seems to think that he can buy his way into your heart, especially during the weeks he has extra training, or an away game, or anything that cuts into your time together.

“It’s too much,” you say through tears one afternoon. “I don’t even know what to do with half of it. You’re spending so much money on me and I’m not ungrateful, but Jamie. I don’t want things. I don’t care that you’re busy, I want you and I don’t want to be in a relationship with someone who thinks they can purchase my affection.

Jamie just looks at you, nods once, and walks away. No fight, no nothing.

You’re struck by two conflicting memories at once.

The first being his outstretched hand at the benefit, ready to pull you out of your comfort zone.

The second, his soft voice saying, “don’t worry ‘bout it when it’s time to leave.”

As you watch his retreating figure, you fight the urge to run after him. He’s the one with the self-sabotaging tendencies. You should have realized you were going to end up here sooner or later.

If he doesn’t even think you’re worth fighting for, then what’s the point?

You text Keeley and Rebecca, then get to your bed as fast as you possibly can.

—

Two months is a lot longer than most people think it is. It’s over sixty days of waking up with someone. Of texting them. Of holding them, eating meals with them, of kissing them goodnight.

It only takes two weeks for a habit to develop and now your bed feels far too large and empty.

Keeley’s snoring in what should be Jamie’s spot, unceremoniously sprawled out in some awful satin zebra-print pajamas. It’s better than being alone, but you’d rather have Jamie snoring next to you in some awful satin leopard-print boxers.

—

“Do you believe in soulmates?” you ask Rebecca. You’re laying on her floor while she eats a biscuit.

She asks, “Platonic or romantic?” so you shoot her a questioning glance. “I’m not sure about romantic soulmates, but after seeing Ted and Beard, I abso-fucking-loutely believe in platonic soulmates,” she clarifies.

“Cool,” you say, “smashing, brill, fucking superb.”

“What makes you think Jamie was your soulmate?” she asks. That makes you sit up.

“I didn’t say shit about Jamie,” you say.

Rebecca rolls her eyes. “Darling, it was very heavily implied. And anyway, who else would you be talking about? The last time you had a boyfriend was back when this club was still complete shit. So. Why do you think Jamie was your soulmate?”

“I don’t,” you respond, “I just- I don’t know, we clicked. It was weird. You know we talked before the benefit? We were at this party and… he talked to me. I was hiding because Keeley fucking left me by myself so I stole a book and was reading in the corner, and he sat next to me and started asking me questions. And-” you stop yourself.

“And,” Rebecca prompts.

“And I wish he would have fought a little more. For as great as he said I was, he just walked away like it was nothing. It feels like shit.”

Rebecca stands up only to sit down on the floor next to you. She tells you, “Men are shit with feelings. They never know what they really want until they don’t have it.”

—

You don’t take precautions to sneak out of Rebecca’s office because everyone has left by the time you go, so you walk down the stairs arm in arm as you giggle about something stupid.

“Oh shit, I left my phone on my desk,” she says. “Wait here while I get it?”

You grin and lean against the wall, staring down a decal of Bumbercatch.

You can feel someone watching you and you assume it’s just Declan’s cutout until something moves in your peripheral vision.

“Jesus Christ!” you exclaim. “Jamie?”

“I weren’t trying to scare you,” he says apologetically. “Didn’t know anyone was still here. I was doing a cool down on the treadmill and lost track of time.”

“…Cool,” you reply. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to say in situations like this.

Jamie passes his water bottle from one hand to the other as you shift your weight. Neither one of you are making an effort to say anything, or an effort to leave.

“For Christ’s sake,” comes Rebecca’s voice a few steps above you. “Can you two please just tell each other how you’re fucking feeling? My god Jamie, use your big boy words for fucking once.”

Jamie looks offended for a moment but apparently Rebecca’s words ring a little bit true because he switches from offended to wistful. Again.

“I can’t with that face,” you tell him. “You look like a kicked puppy, and it’s your fault at least eighty percent of the time.”

“I’m leaving,” Rebecca says.

“Wait, but you drove me here,” you say to her back.

She calls, “Cheers,” with no indication that she’s listening to you.

“I can take you home,” Jamie offers.

You tilt your head at him and say, “Yeah, and I can catch a taxi. Or walk. Or anything, really.”

“I’m driving you,” he says. “Just gotta grab my bag.”

“Oh now he fights,” you mutter.

Jamie stills for a moment before heading into the locker room. He’s back so fast you wonder if he was worried about you sneaking out without him.

You’re sitting in the passenger seat, reliving all the times you’ve been here before. You resist the urge to curl up.

It’s a quiet ride over to your house and you take advantage of the fact that Jamie is actively not looking at you. You allow yourself to examine his profile out of the corner of your eye. You miss touching his face, holding his hand. Does he feel the same? Most likely not.

He pulls into your driveway and as you reach for the handle he says, “Oi.”

You still.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I really am.”

You explode. “For fucking what, Jamie? What the fuck do you think you’re sorry for? How many times are we going to do this? If one of us were going to have relationship insecurity, I would’ve assumed it’d be me. Hell, everyone thinks that I’m the insecure one. But it’s you! I don’t fucking get it, you ruin every good thing you have because you have stupid fucking thoughts and you don’t fight for what you fucking want, for fuck’s sake.”

“I want you,” he says.

“Coulda fooled me,” you shoot back.

“I do and I know I was being a twat. Went to fucking… therapy. I’m getting better, swear down.”

“Uh huh,” you say. “Bullshit.”

“That’s a fuck-ton of swear words for you,” he comments. “Been taking notes from Roy?” “Piss off,” you reply.

“That’s a yes.”

“Fine. Here’s a nice, clean sentence for you. What do you want?”

“I miss you,” he says without hesitation.

Right.

“And..?” you say.

“And I want you back.”

“Maybe,” you reply. “Possibly. I’ll put you on probation. Cook me dinner and then we’ll talk about it.”

Jamie turns off his car. “Does that mean I can come in?”

You sigh, but it’s with a smile on your face. “Against my better judgement yes, it does mean you can come in. But no funny business. At least not tonight.”

Jamie grins just a tiny bit and says, “Does cuddling count as funny business? I miss holding you?”

“We’ll see how good dinner is.” You open the car door and Jamie follows you close on your heels into your house. You think maybe this time, you’ll both get it right.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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coeurify · 1 year

Text

hand stitched. | ellie williams

pairing & word count: ellie williams x gn!reader (use of word housewife tho.) wc: 1.6k

description: this is basically a drabble based on this concept. sewing your inital into ellies jeans. also refrence to thst one gossip girl blair sleeve scene.

warnings & tags: none except tooth rotting fluff and shitty sleepy writing. forgive me not proof read.

It had started as a joke. An innocent one at that. Just a small way of having yourself a laugh when you caught sight of your girlfriend during a cold winter day in Jackson. A way to see the wind bitten rosy cheeks of Ellie’s only redden more when you would point it out.

You had gotten almost that, only much better.

The idea came to you with a thread needle between your nimble fingers, working on closing a hole that had ripped open on Ellie’s favorite jean pocket.

The auburn haired girl wouldn’t admit it.. but she had eaten shit on the way home from a particularly muddy patrol with Jesse and fucked them up. Jesse had mumbled that to you as they handed over the horses you had to get to the community stable. It had made you laugh so hard you fell against Shimmer when your girlfriend handed her over, your toes curling in your boots with the humor imagining the sight. You shooed Ellie’s curious glares off, promising it was just some awful dad joke Jesse had made.

Later that night she handed you her ruined jeans, all puppy eyed as she asked you to patch them up. Her apparent reason for the rips were getting through a few too many crawl spaces that snagged the denim.

What a loving girlfriend you were, not calling bullshit and instead letting your girlfriend find her way to bed as you washed the dirty jeans. A glass of wine from a bottle you had found in sheer luck on a supply run last summer sat beside you as you had stitched together the now dried and cleaned fabric. The sweet wine sat low in your belly that whole night, causing a slower fix to the denim and a hazier stream of thoughts.

You did most of Ellie’s laundry, you remember thinking. Honestly, you did most of her chores. You didn’t exactly mind the little housewife act, it made you feel wanted and loved in a domestic sort of way.. watching Ellie leave the house with the cookie you made her between her teeth.. jacket you cleaned hung on her shoulders. That thought process had brought your wine drunk actions to other places.

Places like ending up with a cracked lip pulled between your teeth, a little red string threading through the right side of one of the pockets of Ellie’s jeans, stitching the little shape of your initial into it. lt was just a joke, one you didn't tell Ellie about the neck morning when she pressed obnoxiously loud kisses to your blushed cheeks as a thank you for fixing the jeans, watching as she hopped around to pull them over her figure and shove her converses on and out the door.

You didn’t see her until much later, during a walk through the main street of Jackson. You had been tasked with carrying supplies from the gate to the make-shift kitchen down the street. With hands full of old cans and eggs from a chicken coop outside Jackson, you had caught sight of Ellie for the first time that day. Her head was turned back to scowl at Jesse, who had been laughing at something he obviously did not key Ellie into. You had an idea about what, which was confirmed when Jesse shook his head and pointed to her jeans.

“You their bitch or somethin, Williams?” Jesse had snickered as you stepped closer— a cheeky grin on your lips when the man met your eyes.

The whole ordeal was a good laugh for all of you, well.. for Jesse and you. Watching as Ellie turned around in a circle like a dumb dog chasing its own tail to see what he meant. “What are you even talking about, dick?” Ellie huffed, only stopping when she saw you. “Babe is there somethin’ on my pants?”

You had bit your lip so hard to stop your laugh that it actually hurt, a red mark left in its wake when the lip fell out of your mouth. Your finger that wasn't busy holding supplies poked her ass where the small letter of your name was, still intact after Ellie’s day. “Put my initial on your pocket, guess everyone but you noticed,” you admitted.

It went just like you thought, your too easy to embarrass girlfriend flushing like she just pressed her face into one of the icy snow piles next to your feet, freckles even more pronounced as her nose crinkled.

But what you didn’t expect was the smile that tugged at her lips, embarrassed and enamored all at the same time. “Oh- oh, cute,” was what Ellie said before telling you to get back to your work, obviously too embarrassed to get into it in front of the mutual friend.

When she walked away, Jesse shoved her shoulder and repeated profanities about you owning her. Ellie just hiked up the jacket she wore slightly, showing off the pretty red thread. The sight made something soft inside your chest grow, butterflies trapped inside your tummy and spouting out your mouth with an airy giggle. You had walked back to the kitchen a little more skippy that day— many residents asking what had you all perky.

After that it became a little routine. Ellie asked a favor of you to fix some of her clothes or wash them.. another pair of jeans ended up with your neatly stitched letter on the pocket. On a rare occasion you had even left a pretty pink version of your initial on the sleeve of one of her flannels. That one was also done drunk, just on something a little stronger than the pink colored wine.

When you saw the pink poking out from the blue fabric bunched around her elbow the next morning.. she had missed her shift by about an hour due to your shower of kisses and hugs, giggling against her ear as you proclaimed she, “had your heart on her sleeve.”

It made your heart swell in your chest that she wore them so proudly. The ice in Jackson melted away a little more each time she wore you around town with her, and you liked to think it was all from your own duing, the warmth in your chest heating the place you called home too.

Ellie cherished the small momento, even if it was a bit embarrassing everytime Dina heckled her for it, or Joel whistled in that old man way she hated when he heard Jesse make a remark about it. She likes the way everyone knew what the different color letters on her pockets meant. Likes when she takes them off at night and can run her finger over the bumps of the string while her legs sit on the bed, your body pressed behind her.

“Sorry I did it again, it’s just too cute els,” you always mumbled, causing her to shrug and press a kiss to your cheek, promising she didn’t mind.

You couldn’t help but watch Ellie from behind to catch a glimpse of the stitch during the days she dawned one of the branded jeans. Your heart skipped a beat whenever her fucked up converse pressed her onto her tippy toes to grab something from a shelf or push up through a window when a door was locked, letting her shirt ride up enough to see your handiwork.

Maybe it was embarrassing to admit the way your stomach turned over and over in a small uncomfortable rhythm when Ellie was focused on taking down a clicker that jumped at her, scrambling back to stand after wiping a bloodied hand across her shirt. She looked at you, equating the glazed over look to the dead infected at her feet, and not the way the red thread had been perfectly on display when Ellie was leaned over.

When she was crouched down to look at a map or something— stretching the fabric of her jeans against her body, your eyes always fell to that one little spot, pressing a cold hand to your cheek to cease the ache there.

When she lounged against the bar in town, it wasn’t only your eyes that fell to the small stitch. It always made your skin prick with confidence.

Ellie would often come home at night all dirty and sore, kicking her shoes off and swearing about a horde of runners or group of violent passer throughs. Her auburn hair was always messy and whipping around her angry face as she hastily pushed it away. You always helped her out of her clothes, admiring how the patch was always still there as you shoved it into the hamper of clothes you needed to clean. No matter what shit the clothes had been through, your little letter was always still there, pristine and glowing.

Maybe there was some metaphor in there, one that would make Ellie scoff and roll her eyes if you ever said, turning her head to hide the smile it would bring to her face. Somewhere in a deep, cheesier pocket of your brain it whispered something about the threads being a testament to the two of you. Never worn down by any storm, any fight. The one thing in a sea of ripped and ruined fabric still standing.

You had scribbled something along those lines down in a little notebook tucked away in your closet, a memory for only your heart when you were missing Ellie extra bad during a long trip. One look at the words, one memory about how you were walking with her even miles away, even when you were sitting on the bed you shared with Ellie and she was somewhere completely else, pressing her way through groups of infected. You were still with her.

Ellie never stopped wearing those pants, and you never stopped finding new places to hide the sign of your commitment to each other with a small threading needle and a string.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fluff

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gavvaiins · 10 months

Text

lonely

summary: having to carry the future of multiple universes on his shoulders miguel simply is tired, tired and lonely.

pairing: miguel o'hara x gn!reader warnings: angst, pinch of fluff, less actions, more vibes; story's gender neutral but i feel it might be too female-coded? idk ; - ; word count: 3.7k

a/n: yeah ... this is longer than it needs to be. Might got confused by grammar later ... idk while writing i fell into a narrating-style crisis? It definetly doesn't help when the book you're reading is written is a different tense.

Sometimes all Miguel wished for was some time alone. In a building full of arachno-humanoids, constantly surrounded by either living people, holograms or other species there was sometimes not enough room to breathe. So, nothing reprehensible about wanting some time for himself.

However, Miguel wasn’t longing to be alone.

He didn’t need to.

He already was.

Despite being surrounded by dozens of spider-beings he was alone. He had no friends. Jess was a colleague, Peter Parker was a dear colleague, the best – and what was even Peter B. Parker? Honestly, Miguel didn’t know, but despite all these different Spider-People there was no one waiting for him. Not even in Nueva York, a city with far more citizens than anyone could count.

No one was waiting for him to come home – or to simply arrive, anywhere.

Lyla was nothing but an AI generated hologram, he created.

There was no one waiting for him.

And that was good. No one waiting for him meant safety; for him and for him. Without anyone there waiting for him to return home he could neither hurt nor lose someone. Miguel noticed that it wasn’t loneliness he was longing for, after all he was pretty much alone in his world, carrying the burden all by himself. Having time to breathe, to think that was what he was longing for. A moment without Lyla and the other arachno-humanoids, without having to think about anomalies and the downfall of universes.

All he wanted was peace.

“Miguel?” His body grew tense as your voice emerged from the dark, careful and soft, almost fearful as if you were entering a cave, unsure of what you’d meet in there. There was a chance that you hadn't spotted him yet, sitting on his lowered platform all by himself. Within moments he heard your voice he began holding his breath. If he didn’t make a sound, you wouldn’t catch him, which was a dumb and childish thought considering the lighting of the running monitors, which illuminated his big frame quite perfectly.

What were you even doing here? There was no need for you talking to him.

“Miguel?” You asked. He could sense the hesitation in your voice, it reminded him of the heroes in fairy tales, both brave and stupid enough to enter the dark woods full of beastly and hungry creatures. When Miguel thought about it, his room was a bit like a forest – or more a cave, dark and mysterious. To his surprise the light tremor in your voice didn’t stop you from further exploring the room. If this was truly a fairytale, you’d either be very brave or stupid, or both. Whatever it was Miguel would’ve eaten you alive.

But this wasn’t a fairytale, and he wasn’t the big, bad wolf, ready and hungry enough to devour you. But why didn’t you stop?

Why were you still going?

He was the Spider-Man who hoped not to be found by anyone, especially not you.

With every passing second Miguel’s body grew more, and more tense, his lungs felt strained, knowing very well that with every step you took, you were closer to seeing him. He knew that it would’ve been smarter to swing away, to simply vanish in the dark. But he couldn’t move. Something in him didn’t want to flee, despite his longing for peace and serenity. He was like a spider trapped in its own web, paralyzed by his own poison.

Maybe he longed for you to find him.

“Miguel.” Your voice was nothing but a whisper, not entirely fearful but caring as well. Yet, Miguel kept using the tactics of a child. Stoic and stiff did he keep his posture, eyes on the ground, head buried in his arms; if he couldn’t see you, you couldn’t see him either. Rather he avoided your eyes, your whole presence like the plague.

How did he, Spider-Man 2099, guardian of the arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse and destroyer of a whole universe, look like? A mountain of a man hunched on his sunken platform, hiding his face like a fearful child, who didn’t know where to put its overwhelming feelings. He used to be an authority, always standing high on his platform, towering over and looking down on you. But now it was you who looked down on him, a pile of misery in blue and red barely illuminated by flickering screens.

“Oh, Miguel.” He could sense your presence beside him, he could sense everything of you – your pity and empathy was almost sickening. Your body was awfully close but kept a minimal distance of respect, and to his own surprise Miguel felt his tense muscles relax.

Finally, he found himself able to breathe again.

For a moment you said nothing, no Miguel, no how are you. No words left his lips either. You two sat in silence and Miguel enjoyed it, a little – sitting with you in the dark, just the two of you and he hated to admit it, but he began missing his name rolling off your tongue. His name sounded so soft and caring, like he meant something, like he was someone others cared for.

Someone you cared for.

And something inside of him longed hearing you say his name, again, and again.

To his own surprise he needed it, and he surprised himself by how desperately he needed to hear his name coming from you.

“Miguel?” Ah, there it was. Finally. It was embarrassing admit how Miguel’s heart enjoyed it deeply, hearing his name rolling of your tongue. It felt like warm milk mixed with honey running down his throat, filling his body with warmth and a feeling of serenity, of home. Despite his inner positive response to your presence he didn’t move, nor did he speak. “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

Feeling your knee nudge his thigh, his body grew tense again. The touch was subtle, yet it alarmed all his senses, as if your touch could hurt him. Couldn’t you just continue gently serenading his name, like a sweet lullaby he could relax and fall asleep to? Miguel didn’t need to talk with you about his feelings. He didn’t want to.

“Doesn’t – “

“Leave me alone,” he grumbled, words swallowed by the void underneath his arms.

“– look like nothing,” you said. No answer, and for a moment you grew quiet. He had no idea what you were doing but he could hear you shifting in your seat beside him. Were you finally leaving?

No.

He wanted you to leave, didn’t he? Yes … that’s what he wanted.

But you weren’t leaving, he knew it when he felt your gentle touch on his shoulder. His muscles jumped slightly under your touch as if your fingers were ice cold or burning hot. They weren’t. Your touch was light, careful, like a butterfly dancing on his skin. First came your fingers, gracing his scapula as if you were testing the waters, then rested your palm on his shoulder and despite the highly advanced suit he was wearing, it felt like his skin was burning – a malfunction, an electric shock.

His heart jumped.

It was too much.

“I said, leave me alone!” Forceful, almost feral, he slapped your hand away. Risen to his full dominating size Miguel was panting heavily, fangs bared, talons shown and eyes gleaming of anger … and hurt, and loneliness, confusion. He looked like a beast, tall and furious, ready to strike or devour you.

“Miguel.” He tried not to flinch. He hated the sound of your voice; it didn’t feel soothing anymore. Instead, it was laced with fear, but mostly hurt. But what was he expecting? Miguel had scared you; he had hurt you.

Good.

Lyla would scold him for being an ass. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he needed to, and if that’s what’s needed to leave him be, he’d endure it … and he would do it again, if he needed to. Despite his body telling him differently, he neither needed you nor your pity.

His initial thought was that his plan was working. The big, bad Spider-Man was indeed an asshole, who made you cry for no reason. Never would you talk or even look at him again, which he told himself was fine. But you weren’t crying. Sure, you were holding your arm protectively close to your body as if his talons had teared through your suit, making you bleed. But no sign of tears rimming your eyes, plus, you weren’t leaving.

You were still here.

“What the fuck?”

Why wasn’t it working? “I told you to leave me.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you still there?” With satisfaction he watched you thinking of a good response, gears turning in your head, to no avail. Your mouth opened slightly before pressing it shut, eyes lowering to your hands folded in your lap. That was it; without anything to retort you surely would leave him.

Again, the two of you sat in complete silence. One he didn’t enjoy, but need, and surely neither did you. However, he was sure that you’d given up, any second, and leave him alone. “Is that really what you want?”

He looked at you, blinking.

“Is it really what you want?” You repeated, staring into his dark eyes and there is something in yours that scared him. Miguel couldn’t tell what it was, there was no poison in your eyes, no malice, yet he was afraid. “Do you really wish to be alone?”

You scared him, and that’s nothing anyone would ever associate with you. He hated to admit it, but he was, not of your physical strength or arachno-powers. Surely, he could easily knock you out. Rather he was afraid that you’d find something you weren’t supposed to see.

Miguel hesitated. “Yes.”

“I have to.” It just slipped out of his mouth. He hadn’t meant to speak his mind, even if it was just a bit. You weren’t supposed to know. But now you knew something that was meant to stay hidden, that was meant only for himself. A burden he had meant to carry himself. There was no reason to hide, yet there was no reason to face you either, so Miguel did what he could best, being alone. With a heavy sigh he crept back into the shell he so shamefully had lost. This time Miguel didn’t burry himself beneath his arms, instead he stared in the darkness of his office, waiting for you to leave. By that time, he should’ve known that you wouldn’t leave him.

Not like that.

“Oh, Miguel.” Again, his name was nothing but a soft whisper, comforting. There lied some sadness behind his name, yet it was all he had wished for moments ago, before he lashed out at you. “You are not alone. We’re all Spider-Man.”

Some incomprehensible grumble left his lips, how should he explain? It wasn’t your fight, neither was it Peter Parker’s, only his. “It was me.”

“I’ve done this,” he said before you could even think of calling him again.

“I –“ Miguel’s breath hitched and for a second his heart stopped beating, stumbling over its own rhythm as he felt your fingers dancing on his skin again.

How dare you?

He wanted to bare his teeth at you, again, he wanted to scare you, to push you away from him, but he couldn’t. His mind told him to, like he used to do whit so many people before. You knew too much about him. But his heart, his body, craved for the softness of your voice, longed for the warmth of your heart. Carefully your fingers grazed his skin, almost waiting for some sign of permission until they could finally rest on his cheeks. Despite wearing your spider-suit your hand felt surprisingly soft on his skin.

With a sigh he leaned into the comfort of your touch, until he remembered who he was and what he did. His head shot up like your hand was hurting him but before he could utter any more words of misery you placed both of your hands on his cheeks, gently forcing him to look at you.

“You’ve done what? Jumping through the arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse.” Your voice was calm and gentle, as was your smile. He could barely look at you. “That is quite a complicated name, maybe you should think about calling it spider-verse instead.”

Miguel meant to smile at your joke, even if only subtle, a ghost of a smile only you’d be able to detect and in any other situation he would. But he couldn’t. Not now, when he’d say something so gruesome that would paint him in a different light. However, the truth didn’t want to roll over his tongue, revealing who he really was, not when you so gently smiled at him, caressing his skin with your fingers. Heaving a sigh, he let go, and melted into your touch like warm butter. Was it good to let his guard down? Probably not. Neither was it professional to lean into your touch, almost gracing your clothed wrist with his lips. It wasn’t good but it felt good, the softness of your touch, the warmth seeking through your spider-gloves. If you’d allow it, he will fall asleep right here in your arms.

It was impossible for him to resist.

If only Lyla could see him now … big, bad wolf turned into a puppy.

However, he was left dumbfounded when he found himself stripped of your touch, even more so, when he found himself disliking the sudden coldness. Wanting to know what went wrong Miguel starred at you but nothing seemed to have changed. You still looked at him with the same fondness and empathy in your eyes, the only difference was that you’re patting your lap. His eyes followed your directions, and he grew hesitant.

“May I?” It should’ve been Miguel asking and not you. Though, resting on your thighs was a nice, almost heavenly thought but he shouldn’t enjoy your comfort too much. “Miguel, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s okay.” He declined.

“C’mon Miguel, it’s comfortable I promise,” you smiled, but he didn’t move. Surely it must be more comfortable than hanging in your hands, but Miguel couldn’t let himself fall on your lap. Already he was enjoying the tenderness of your fingers too much, what would happen if he rested on your thighs? Would he melt into them like he did with your hands? The though was nice but he resisted, not for long though. Tugging, basically dragging him by his arms, you somehow managed to pull his heavy body down on your lap. Carefully he shifted his weight, so only his head and upper body were lying on you. He didn’t want to crush you. However, the feeling that spread through his body as he rested on your thighs was both nice, comfortable and weird. Overall, it was a weird sensation and he’d found himself in a situation he’d never dreamed about before.

“May I?” Miguel had no idea what you were up to, yet he agreed with a hum. His eyes fell close and he hummed again, when he felt your fingers carefully dancing over his body, moving from his shoulder to his hair. It wasn’t the same when you held him in your hands, fingers holding him and caressing his cheeks. It felt different but good, relaxing your hands running through his hair, gently scratching his scalp. And sometimes he could feel the ghost of your fingertips brushing over his face.

He didn’t know how long you stayed in this position, sitting in silence, him resting on your lap and you caressing him like a pet. Miguel couldn’t remember the last time somebody did this for him or when his muscles felt so relaxed. Again, if you’d allow it, he’ll fall asleep right here by your side. But then he remembered what you asked him a long time ago.

“I killed them.” Miguel’s voice was surprisingly calm, even to him. Neither knowing what he meant nor how to answer this, you remained silent. But he could feel your eyes on him. He wasn’t sure if he liked it … not after confessing murder. Yet, he explained, “I killed them all, billions of people, my – his daughter Gabriella, all because I was selfish. – Gabby died because I was foolish to believe that my actions wouldn’t have any consequences.”

His confession shocked you; he could hear it in the change of your breathing and the stillness of your hands, and something in him died. Shocked by his confession you surely would leave. Push him off you like something disgusting. Maybe you would never talk to him again, unless it was necessary, and the thought scared him. His mind had told him to push you away. It was best to handle it all by himself, it was what he always did. But the stupidity people called the heart had won and now the thought of you leaving scared him.

“Tell me what happened.” Your voice was calm, not scared, not soft, just calm. It wasn’t the reaction Miguel had imagined, especially not when your fingers continued to play with his hair. You weren’t even disgusted by him. What kind of person were you to not leave him? “Tell me what happened.”

And he did. Miguel told you everything. How he took the role of a dead man, living his life and raising his daughter. He made it clear that he thought of his actions as selfish and stupid, because he erased a whole universe and with that Gabriella’s future. Never would he forget the fear in her eyes, how she clung to him, looking for safety, calling for her dad – for him, not knowing her real dad has died – until she disappeared as well.

Telling his nightmare was awful, remembering the horrors of his action never got any less painful. But sharing it with you felt surprisingly relieving. It wasn’t like he was healed from his pain but telling you about it made it a little more bearable. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

How should he answer? Thank you? Moments ago, Miguel would’ve grumbled at the pitiful – no, empathic, he’d learned that much by now – tone in your voice but now he liked it, just as he enjoyed you calling him by his name. Miguel didn’t know what to say.

“I don’t think you killed them, Miguel,” you said after an eternity, never stopping playing with his brown strands. Careful he shifted his weight to look at you. Even with one eye lazily opened, he decided that he liked looking at you, watching how you react to him. “Then, who did?”

Wringing with the words on your tongue you hesitated. “I don’t know.”

In normal circumstances Miguel would be grim, and scoff at your naïve words, claiming to be the villain of his story. The selfish murderer of Gabriella O’Hara. However, now he felt rather tame and tired. It’s enough for him. So, he only hummed, closing his eye to revel in the fondness of your touch.

“But you can’t know either.” He looked at you again. He had to correct you, he knew, it was obvious, really. But before an answer could roll over his tongue you were quick to intervene. “I know what you’re going to say, Miguel. You’ve seen it and to you it makes sense, but listen – I … how does anything make any sense? Multiple universes, anomalies, canon events … we shouldn’t even be here, Miguel. I shouldn’t, none of us. But here we are.”

There’s a hint of sadness in your tone, faint yet he heard and didn’t like it. Miguel knew you’d meant to comfort him but, in the end, you’d realized, that nothing of this should’ve happened. You should’ve never met the friends you made in the spider society, never should’ve met him and never found him dark, and lonely in his room. Almost instinctively his hand reached out to you, gently cupping your face. Now it was his turn to comfort you, even if it was only for a fleeting moment. Unsure if he should draw small circles with his thumb, like he wanted to, or caress like you used to do, he just held you. “Don’t. – The multiverse is mine to preserve.”

“Oh, Miguel.” A soft, but sad smile graced your lips as you laid your hand over his, unwilling to let him go. “It’s not yours, either.”

“But it was my fault, not yours. Don’t worry about something I’ve done.”

You sighed. “Miguel, you shouldn’t carry this burden alone, we’re all Spider-Man. It’s not your duty alone to save the multiverse, you can’t do this alone. I – I think what I’m saying is, you’re not alone, Miguel. You might think that you’ve to do all by yourself but that’s not the truth, we help you, all of us. We will carry that burden with you, I will.”

Truly it was sweet how caring you were, none of you could – and should – carry the arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse on your shoulders. It was his job to preserve one less universe from being destroyed. It was his shoulders who had to carry the burden of it all, not yours. None of you should ever have to worry about the stability of your universe. But there was something burning in your eyes as you spoke, something Miguel enjoyed watching. So instead of objecting and lecturing you about the truth he heaved a hefty sigh and closed his eyes, making himself comfortable in your lap. It takes some time until you picked up where you left playing with his hair, gently scratching his skin here and there.

It's quiet as you ran your fingers through his hair, he doesn’t even move. You weren’t even sure if he was still breathing. But you swore you heard a hum, a content sound vibrating through his big body. However, when you try to check on him there’s nothing, no sound, no movement, not even a smile. Miguel simply looked like he’s asleep, stoic and grim – just like when he’s awake. It’s a silly though, him always looking serious no matter if he’s asleep or wake, it made you smile. However, in rare moments, when you’re not looking at him, his lips curl into a grin.

#atsv #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #reader-insert #marvel #spiderman x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #spiderman 2099 #x reader

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mncxbe · 10 months

Note

Can i request something along the lines of "God look at you, how pathetic. I don't care that it hurts, your one job is to be my playtoy and yet you're not even good at that. I know you're just a dumb mutt but I can tell that you want to please me. Now be the good little whore I know you are and make yourself cum for me." Something like this if thats fine it can be any character you’d like from BSD if you cant do this its completely fine!!

sorry it took so long but yes sure I did my best to write it but it sweetened it a bit. I honestly felt that Fyodor would be best for this so I hope you like it♡ Also not me always having to explain why they're fucking // gentle reminder that I'm still taking requests so send them in

11 p.m

𝑭𝒚𝒐𝒅𝒐𝒓 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: smut♡/fluff

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: degradation/ overstim.

Fyodor didn't usually get jealous; and even on those rare occasions he managed to maintain his cool demeanor. He knew you possessed the type of beauty that everyone was drawn to, regardless of their gender. That's what made him feel drawn to you in the first place. He didn't fall for your charms tho, but for your keen intelligence, wits and sense of loyalty.

Every time a man would flirt with you he would watch you turn him down with a smile on your face, waving him off like he was a mere insect. In other words, your boyfriend trusted you and never doubted your devotion.

That was until he spotted you whispering in a corner with Dazai. You were at a party held by one of the town's officials; a man who wanted to join Fyodor's cause. While they were discussing business in a separate room you were left alone with the other guests. You were quite surprised to see your boyfriend's biggest enemy there, quietly sipping champagne from his tall glass.

You walked up to him and struck up a casual conversation.

"Tell me, miss. What's Fyodor's girl doing here all by herself?" he eventually questioned with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"I see you know who I am. Well, I just wanted to go out tonight, nothing more"

"So your boyfriend isn't plotting anything with the officials?"

Your lips curled into a grin as you finally understood what formidable a opponent Dazai was, why Fyodor was so worked up about him.

"Not at all" you replied meekly as Dazai leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"Then I'm sure you wouldn't mind dancing with me. Since you're all alone"

At that moment you felt Fyodor's arm snake around your waist.

"Hello, dearest. Sorry I made you wait"

He spared Dazai a quick, spiteful glance before pulling you away, guiding you towards the grand doors. The brunette only chuckled, mumbling something you couldn't hear.

When you got out of the building the car was already waiting for you and you quickly got inside; the wheels squealing on the pavement as you drove off.

"How was it? Did you strike a deal?" you asked your partner, but he didn't reply. You then tried to touch his hand and once again he brushed you off.

The ride home was awfully silent; but as soon as the door of your bedroom was closed, your boyfriend spoke in a low voice.

"I see you enjoyed yourself tonight. How did you find Dazai, quite charmind isn't he?" His voice was laced with anger and you noticed it.

"Not at all" you replied carefully "I mean, he's intelligent but I wouldn't say charming"

"Interesting. You seemed to enjoy talking to him; had those big doe eyes, always fawning over him"

"That's not it, Fyodor I~"

You were cut short by his hand, which wrapped around your neck in a swift motion. His lips crashed against yours as he pushed you until the back of your thighs hit the bed frame. You toppled backwards and fell onto the soft mattress with Fyodor on top of you.

His teeth grazed the soft skin of your neck. "I'm quite disappointed in you, doll. Didn't expect you to behave like that." His voice sent shivers down your spine, your back slightly arching under his touch "Seems like I need to teach you a lesson"

Fyodor suddenly spun you over so that your chest was facing down and lifted your hips while unbucking his belt. His calloused hands slid to your hips as he pulled up your dress, exposing your drenched lingerie.

He let out a chuckle before pushing himself into you. You whined, your legs wobble from the burning sensation.

"Fedya please wait I'm~"

"Yes you're quite wet I can see that" he said as he began moving, earning another moan from you. He set a fast pace, making your whole body shake with pleasure; you loved it when he was rough on you.

Surprisingly enough he let you cum when you felt like it. You fell onto the mattress and laid on your back, heaving.

Your partner's eyes wandered along your figure.

"Take off that dress. I'm not done with you yet" he ordered in a harsh tone.

And you obeyed, undressing yourself and before you knew it you were back underneath him, legs wide apart as he thrust into you. "Look at you, such a mess for me" he spoke again, his violet eyes locked with yours. You could only mumble a 'yes' and roll back your eyes as he pushed you through your second orgasm.

Then the third.

Now he had you on top of him; his fingers buried deep into the flesh of your hips, guiding your movements. After climaxing so many times you were starting to get dry.

"Fedya 's too much. C..Can't anymore it hurts" you mumbled under your breath.

"I don't care if it hurts, your only job is to be my playtoy and you can barely manage that. I can tell that you want to please me though so be the good little girl I know you are and make yourself cum for me."

The tears that were forming at the corners of your eyes started cascading down your cheeks when your heard his cruel words. You nevertheless picked up your pace, grinding on him. "That's it. See, wasn't so hard" He started rubbing circles on your clit, causing you to clench around him.

You reached your high soon after; your thighs squeezed his narrow waist as you leaned forward, laying on your partner's chest with your eyes closed; your tears of pleasure wet his pale skin.

When Fyodor gently pushed you off him you tensed. "Please no more I can't take more" you whined but he only brushed off your tears, caressing your cheek with his hand.

You eventually slowly opened your eyes, daring to look ag your partner. His gaze was a lot softer now, any trace of annoyance or anger having dissipated.

"Are you alright, my dearest? I'm sorry if I went too far" he inquired worriedly.

"Yes, I'm okay. Just a bit sore"

After a few minutes of silence spent calming your heartbeat you spoke again.

"Are you still mad at me for talking to Dazai?"

Fyodor huffed and lay next to you, pulling your body closer to his. "I'm not, my dearest. I just don't want to have to compete with that man for your heart."

You chuckled lightly and nestled in his embrace. Your head came to rest on his chest; arms locked tightly around his torso.

"I could never love anyone but you, Fedya"

"I sure hope so" he eventully replied, but you were already fast asleep.

Fyodor let himself drift into the reals of dreams, your steady breath lulling him to sleep.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd smut #fyodor bsd #fyodor smut #fyodor x reader #smut #fyodor x you #bsd dazai #dazai osamu

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plants-are-fun · 4 months

Text

”it’s ok, just eat”

TW: ED!!!! PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THIS!!

I have struggled with this in the past and it comforted me so hopefully it can do the same for others

toxic mom(same), toxic personal trainer

shitty writing

heavy angst, fluff, semi happy ending

Bf!chrisxEDgf

small use of y/n

Chris’s pov

—————————

i don’t know how I didn’t see it before. Every single time we went out to eat, y/n would pretend to eat. She would slide her food around, cut it, even offer me some, but she would never actually take a bite.

throughout our whole relationship she would be constantly tired and cold, but to be honest I thought that was just a woman thing. I wanted to have her in a car video, but she would refuse and her only reason was “i don’t want them to see me”. I didn’t push it, but that explanation never sat right.

as she started showing the desire to be in our videos, she started rapidly losing weight, but when I asked her about it she would just say it’s what her personal trainer had been working on. I should have pushed it.

so now, here we are in our minivan prepping to film.

“hey mama what do you want to eat?” I say going as matt pulls into McDonald’s. I look back and all she does is get red and start to fidget.

“it’s ok Chris I don’t need anything” She stutters. “Besides, if I were to eat I think that I would throw up. I’m so nervous”

“you need to have something to eat. These videos can get kind of long.” Nick says as he glances over at me looking worried. Matt nods.

“okay Nick just order her a dr pepper to make sure her blood sugar doesn’t crash” I look over to make sure that’s good, but all of the color previously is not drained from her face.

“U-um can you make it a diet?” She whispers.

I honestly just passed that as nerves.

After we got our food and we made it to a random parking lot, Nick passed out the food and may set up the camera.

“shit” she says

“what’s wrong ma?” At this point I am starting to get very worried.

“it isn’t diet.” She says. I look up at her and she looks like she could cry.

“it’s ok, I’m sure it’s not that big of a deal” I say obliviously. “Do you want a fry?”

she starts to stutter some excuse when Matt comes back in and Nick introduces the video.

After Nick starts some random argument with Matt I realize that something is seriously wrong. I can hear my girlfriends breathing start to get heavier and even her stomach growl.

“hey kid I can hear your stomach from here” I say handing her a couple of fries.

“I don’t want to take your food” she says

“it’s ok, just eat.” She takes a fry and starts to nibble on it. As Nick starts up on some dumb rant about his newest fear, I hear the car door slide open and running. Nick just stares at her in aw and starts laughing, but I’m already on my feet.

I run over to her as I hear gagging and heaving. I pull her hair back and rub my hand against her back.

as she comes back up all she is doing is sobbing and rambling apologies

“I’m s-so sorry I r-ruined your video I didn’t mean to I didn’t want to eat but I-i didn’t want you to ask questions! I’m sorry Chris please forgive me-“ I cut her off with a hug.

“baby what happened? Are you ok? What do you mean you didn’t want to eat? Do you feel sick”

I lead her to a sidewalk curb as she slumps over in exhaustion. She spills everything.

“my whole life my mom has always made me watch what I eat. She used to tell me to suck in my gut and all of that overbearing mother stuff. Then when I started dating you I had already not been eating much, but I really really wanted you to like me and I thought I was too big for that. So I cut back on my calories and went to the gym more. My personal trainer has been calling me fat. He says it’s for motivation but it’s just making it worse! Then when you said you wanted to introduce me to your fans, I just got so scared because I know how intense they are, so I stopped eating all together. But I didn’t think that it would backfire so much that I would ruin the video. I’m sorry Chris, I really am.”

she just leans her head against my shoulder and hiccups lightly.

I feel like the worst boyfriend ever for not seeing the signs. Sure, I’ve been busy, but only an oblivious asshole wouldn’t see the love of his life struggling so much.

“first things first, you didn’t ruin the video. Your safety is far more important. We also are going to FIRE that personal trainer. I’m so sorry I didn’t realize you were hurting until now. When was the last time you ate?”

“when we went out and I got that salad” my heart drops. “baby, that was 3 days ago…” she just starts crying again.

��it’s ok, let’s go get something light to eat. Maybe water based? Then we can go to the doctor, or get you a therapist.”

“ok” she whispers

“I love you so much baby” I say kissing the top of her head.

“we’ll get through this together.”

————————-

eek I can’t tell if that was good or not but I’m too tired for anything else 😥

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo angst #sturniolo fluff

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yurinaa-world · 4 months

Note

Please forgive me for bothering you, but can you do blade, jing yuan and dan heng (separate), where the reader has the personality of the raiden ei? Please

And I love your writing, it's really good! ^^

Characters: Blade, Jing Yuan, and Dan Heng x Female Reader

Synopsis: with reader that's like ei

Warnings: Fluff and spelling mistakes,

Notes: I ended up mixing these two if you don't mind

𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒

Honestly, tall, strong women are what he likes: striking down people with lighting and having a very cold personality, but having a warm personality and liking sweet things now is what he’s into. He can get a little handsy with you, like your waist; he's going to be all around that if Kafka doesn't have hypnotized half the time and he would be on his knees for you, a hook line and sinker, I tell you.

Why bother understanding ‘those people’ when you have him? Since you are the same, you don’t have to bother to even try to think on the same level with 'them', which is a waste of time if you ask him.

He’ll get you anything you want. Want candy? He’ll get it. Want to buy clothes? He’ll get it, no matter how expensive it is! Want someone’s head? Sure! Can’t cook? Don’t worry about that, dearest.

𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃

Long hair, twins!! stylish and strong now; that's what you call a power couple; it’s giving a dumb husband and a pretty wife at its finest, I tell you. You both have spark, and your lighting (gold and purple) mixes to make rose tea (I actually went on a color mixer).

Your wedding is going to be gold and purple (or already happened), and now he even made a whole separate room that is full of purple, and everything in that room is purple, from the bed sheets to the carpet. It is full of things you like about your sweet tooth, but you would rather sleep with him in that room.

𝒟𝒶𝓃 𝐻𝑒𝓃𝑔

You always ask him why people feel a certain way or act the way they do, and he’ll give you an answer since you don’t seem to understand other people. When you both got together, your confession was a little weird. You know, the way you say that you never felt anything towards anyone like this before, and if his heart beat like his?!! What? It did, but he never thought someone could be so airheaded with emotions like you.

March is totally both of your wingmen—well, more like yours—because you just have a hard time with feelings and stuff. He tells you what kind of gifts Dan Heng would want and then just watches you from the sidelines, trying to give him the gift with a bit of a nervous expression on your face.

Li Dan Heng time: power couple again, of course, like, look at you too; you both look like you’ll strike down anyone that dared to speak out of turn in front of them, just radiating, “I don’t think I'm better then; I know, so get on your knees and ask for mercy.” That kind of vibe.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

#✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ Yurinna's Writing :･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧#honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #star rail #star rail x reader #star rail x you #blade x reader #blade x you #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan x you #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #dan heng x you #honkai blade x you

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aliorsboxostuff · 10 months

Note

hi V3 I am so sorry i am BLOWING UP YOUR INBOX OMGGG but I totally forgot the character Id like is Hobie, I think cause I was talking about him I thought I said his name but i forgor ty bae ily 🤗🤗🗣️‼️‼️‼️‼️

HOBIEEE gotta be my fav 2nd to Miguel, i’m working on a fanart of that cool mf too. He’s such an interesting character to write, i’m honestly pretty sad i only thought something so short for this HC’s T-T I hope you enjoy this though big man, Hobie is definitely the type to hang out with you when youre going through those rough times <3

"Anythin' you wanna be."

Tags: Hobie Brown & ftm!Reader, fluff, dysphoria, Headcanons, going through those tough times, Hobie being the Homie he is, Reader is implied a Spider-person, But also up to interpretation, Comfort and Fluff, no angst

Hobie Brown headcanons for anyone that’s going through those dysphoric episodes <3

first of all, let's get one thing straight here: Hobie FULLY SUPPORTS you being trans

He doesn't see you as anything fem aligned unless said otherwise

lets you crash in his universe, especially when you need it

he thrifts a lot of big and baggy jackets and sweaters, only to give them to you saying he "bought the wrong size"

There's definitely a couple of sweaters from his own wardrobe that you've stolen

you've definitely worn his jacket that he usually wears over his spidey suit, it makes you feel as cool as him

he made you your own jacket, with a trans pin and another with his Spidey logo

lets you borrow anything you want because he knows it makes you feel good

the type to check in on you if you've been binding the whole day

When things get too much and you feel bad in your own skin, Hobie would spend time with you in his universe

he makes you a comfy fort blanket where you can stay and watch anything you please while he plucks the strings of his guitar on the floor

definitely, the type to get you anything you wanna eat when you've lost your appetite

stays by your side, letting you lean on him when you seek comfort

If it gets too much as tears start to fall, he’ll hold you through it, brings you into his arms while you let all those feelings out

Rakes his fingers through your hair or just likes softly petting you if it helps you calm down

completely understands if you need some alone time when dealing with dysphoria, making sure you have enough snacks and water before he leaves to hang somewhere else

he's the spokesperson whenever you wanna be left alone, making sure the others won't bother you too

Says "You're cooler than me mate, cooler than Miles too,"

says dumb shit like; "You are the manliest man to ever man," or "No one does a better job being a boy than you," Just to make you feel better

his side-eye game STRONG 💪dont look at you weird or he'll give them a bone-chilling, soul-crushing, ‘wish I was dead’ side eye

He and Pav is the type to make little trinkets for their friends tbh, he deff makes pins from bottle caps and gives them to you

His favorite spot to bring you when you feel down is near the top of any tall building, bringing snacks and a blanket. He says it makes him feel better knowing everyone is so small, and the world is huge, so in the end, nothing really matters and so be whatever the fuck you wanna be.

Requests are open! Reblogs are appreciated <3

#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown & reader #hobie brown x trans!reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x ftm!reader #hobie brown x male reader #hobie brown headcanons #hobie brown hcs #hobie headcanons #hobie x reader #hobie x you #hobie my beloved #across the spiderverse #hobie brown across the spiderverse

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gh0vtzb1og · 8 days

Note

Hi, i was wondering if you could do smth with male!reader whom is a "housewife" and has this slutty body of his.. it can be anyone but I would like it to be Graves. If yes, can you add dumbification..?

I’ll show you the difference between military and me. Housewife reader au / MALE READER X GRAVES

Notes ; dumbification, America rahhh🦅🦅🦅🦅, breeding, praise, fluff, pillow humping

Cowboy military man graves to the rescue

I don’t think you guys understand how long I have been craving a graves one. Also whoever keeps suggesting dumbification I think I’m doing it right idk..

Also If anyone requests cowboy/ or country stuff what so ever. I will never write stories with fords or ram, I only do chevys and gmcs, their better trucks👍

You were standing in your husbands kitchen, cooking him dinner. Graves was a traditional man, besides the fact he was married to a man. He liked you cleaning and cooking, like a good house wife. Whenever you were on your knees scrubbing the floors, he couldn’t help but get excited, he wanted to ruin whatever you made with yours and his cum.

Graves didn’t tell anyone he was married to a man, honestly he said he was married to a woman, not like anyone would meet you. You were very quiet and reserved to outsiders, maybe that’s what he adored. He loved fucking you in public spaces, he prayed someone would find you both just so you can be embarrassed and shy away. It was always attractive when you did.

You were shy when you met him, it was at a state fair, you were in a bucking shoot, getting ready to get on some Bronc and graves made eye contact with you. Winking and going back to watching you. Maybe it was your tight shirt and jeans, you did have amazing hips for a man. But after that he immediately wrapped you around his finger and got married to you. He loved his little cowboy.

You were still in your place in the kitchen. A jingle of graves front door keys hitting together made the door unlock, a sound you loved hearing. It meant your lovely husband was home. He stepped halfway down the hallway, removing his work boots and walking into the kitchen. His arms wrapped around your waist snuggly.

You tilt your head up to look at him, graves moved his hand between your legs. He grabbed your crotch. “Philip I’m cooking, no fucking me till I’m done.” You snap back at him, graves narrowed his eyes at you, roughly using his free hand to slap your ass before moving away. Leaning against a counter.

“How was work hon?” You coo, graves took in a deep breath, he ran his finger over his wedding ring. A hum leaving his throat as he rubbed his thigh anxiously.

“Rough day, I really need you angel.” He bit his inner cheek, he did a desperate pout as you stared back at him. He was too damn desperate. Especially with that puppy dog pout? He probably had a days worth of cum waiting to be emptied into you. Graves took off his compression shirt, his body was toned with muscle, graves had a decent happy trail, nothing too much but it was definitely attractive.

Graves moved behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your neck. He was trying his hardest to not rip your clothes from your body and ravage you infront of your dinner.

You were on your hands and knees, back arched as he shoved deep into your tight hole. He loved the way you squeezed and flexed around him as he used you like a fleshlight. Graves held onto your hips, his cock rocking in and out of your ass.

“Practically sucking me back in aren’t you? That’s all you know how to do isn’t it dear. You only know how to suck me back in like a good little whore hm? You love cock. This is practically your purpose isn’t it.” He growled into your ear, you quickly nodded as he continued to pound into you, your velvety walls clinging to him, making it harder and harder to pull out.

You could feel yourself loosing your mind as he rubbed against your prostate. You’d go dumb for him, just like you always did. Graves loved fucking you in like this. He’d bend you over out on the porch and fuck you dumb, your moans mixing with the songs of the coyotes, you both adored hearing their songs, but he couldn’t help but do you to the screaming songs of those feral dogs. He was a feral dog when it came to you.

When it came to being pulled back in by your perfect ass. You were the best little bimbo he could ever ask for. Something wild and free, he loved your free spirit, how confident you were; the way you crumbled for him. Graves lifted one of your legs up and to the side, hitting even deeper into you and rubbing against your prostate.

Your eyes were rolled back as he came into you, you finished against your tummy and the bedsheets. A chuckle leaving your husband as he pulled you into a loving hug.

#graves cod #graves x reader #cod mw2 #cod x reader #call of duty #gh0vtzb1ogz #call of duty x reader #call of duty smut #call of duty headcanons #phillip graves #philip graves #philip graves x reader #philip graves x you #graves smut #cod smut #cod mwii

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 1 year

Note

I'm feeling sooome...bed sharing. That good ol only one bed trope with Daryl. It's over done sure, bit my heart just loves the shit out of it. Thank you so much for sharing your talent and writing for us!

༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 || 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧

― pairing: daryl dixon x plus size!reader

― era: season 4

― summary: after being separated from everyone when the prison fell, you found yourself paired up with daryl, the man that, to him, you had been unknowingly pining for.

― warnings: literally none! it's all fluff!

― wc: 875

⋆ a/n: bed sharing is such a good trope! i'm a sucker for it every single time! this was such a fun right and honestly it made me all tingly inside.

masterlist | AO3

When the prison fell, your future and hope fell with it, only leaving a black pit of survival deep within your chest. You were grateful that Daryl had found you, tugging you along with him. Maybe it was because he was the only one that could ever bring you the feeling of safety in a time like this, or maybe it was because you were in love with him, unbeknownst to him.

You two had been on the run for what seemed like ages, your legs aching, skin sticky and sweaty, your stomachs empty as you fought away the feeling of exhaustion and irritability. You guys had been desperately trying to find somewhere to settle down on behalf of trying to find everyone else, which was quite difficult mind you. So, when you both had stumbled upon a gas station, you could’ve started crying, and if you were going to be honest, you kind of did. You had hoped there were still some snacks left despite the few cans that were split amongst the two of you.

You were more than eager to enter the run-down place, and surprisingly there were no walkers, just the putrid smell of rotting flesh.

“Hold on a damn minute, woman.” You heard Daryl grumble from behind you. “I’m okay, and there’s literally no one here.” You said as you scanned the shelves, eyes lighting up as you spotted a few bags of mini-potato chips. They were most likely stale, but you were in no place to complain, food was food now in days. “Ya don’ know that.” His crossbow was still raised. “If it makes you feel better, then you can double check everything, D. ‘See if I missed anything.” It was a compromise that you knew would bring the older man some peace of mind. He did exactly that, opening the back room before saying, “It’s clear.”

You followed up behind him, your eyes landing on a relatively clean mattress on the floor. It was no bigger than a wide twin bed. “Oh my god, I’m going to cry.” You gasped dramatically. You could hear him snort as you flopped down on the comforter, a wave of dust exploding from either side of you. “Well, that’s charming.” You laughed, Daryl biting back a smile as he disappeared back to the main part of the store.

As night began to fall and dinner was eaten, it was safe to say that you and him were completely pooped for the day.

“I’ll take the floor ‘nd you can take the bed.” His words left no room for an argument as he had already begun to lay out a blanket that he had found. “Are you sure, Daryl? That ground does not look comfortable or.. cleanly.” He just shrugged, flopping down on his back as he grunted. “’Had worse.” He mumbled. You just sighed out an, “Okay.” Before laying flat on your back.

You had no idea how long you had been awake, looking up at the rotting ceiling while your hands rested clasped together on your stomach.

“Daryl, you awake?” You whispered, as if you were afraid something could hear you. “Mhm.” Was your grunted response. You swallowed your nerves, fidgeting with your fingers. “Could you uh- could you maybe come up here with me?” A moment of silence settled over the two of you, and before you could chide yourself for asking a dumb question, he was up and moving, his movement causing you to scoot over. Your bodies were pressed together, hip-and-hip, shoulder-to-shoulder. His body heat was welcoming, comforting even as you resisted leaning your body further into him.

“Thank you.” You said quietly. “Ain’t no problem.”

“This is more comfortable, isn’t it?” You teased, never breaking eye contact with a certain spot on the roof that looked like a leak. You could feel him nudge you light-heartedly with his shoulder. “Do you think everyone’s okay?” You couldn’t help but ask. “Yeah, they’ll be alrigh’, they’re strong.” Your arms dropped down at your sides, your hands brushing up against one another’s. Your heart rate picked up, body beginning to feel hot as butterflies swarmed your stomach.

“I’m glad I got lost with you, Daryl.” You were being brave, bold even as you allowed your fingers to intertwine with his. Finally, you turned your head to look at him only to find that he was already staring at you. “I love you.” Your confession came out in a bated breath, like you were afraid of what he was going to push you despite his hand tightening around your own. Daryl didn’t know what to say no matter how desperately he wanted to say that he felt the same, that he loved you too. His eyes fell to your lips before looking at you again.

It was as if there was a silent agreement, your heads moving until your lips brushed up against each other.

“It’s okay, D. I want this.” You said with a soft smile. He finally kissed you. It felt like everything was finally falling into place. When you separated, he was blushing, the tips of his ears a bright pink.

“You’re a damn good kisser.” You complimented.

“Shut up.” He said bashfully, but equally teasing.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood

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inkelea · 8 months

Text

𓏲 ༘⋆ ࣪𓇼 SECRETS OF THE OCEAN!

pairing: landboy!bang chan x mermaid!fem!reader

synopsis: after chan navigates through the ocean he finds himself in an unknown island, so empty it gives anyone on there a sense of loneliness and sorrow. however, this feeling doesn’t last long, since he’s quickly immersed in the life’s of a mermaid and a siren.

genre: fluff, comedy, strangers to lovers (not really), mermaid au, angst, hurt/comfort, pining, impossible love, different worlds.

warnings: bad parents, talk of loneliness, friendship plays a big role in the story, seungmin is a menace, there’s a big amount of backstory, mermaids and sirens are not the same thing, y/n is described with hair (no specific length), curly hair chan appreciation!!

word count: 8.5k

a/n: this took almost two months to be done, but it’s finally here! honestly I thought I was gonna leave it halfway, everyone thank cinny for giving me the strength to finish this tbh. I even made a playlist for the story in which the songs match with the events that occur in the fic. you obviously don’t need to listen to it while reading it but I think it could be fun. if you’re a fast/slow reader… oops, but still. enjoy the reading! ik i had fun writing it:)

The ocean moves alongside the flow of the wind, making all the ocean life direct themselves to the north. It's a cloudy night with the full moon shining its brightest at the very top of the sky. Due to the almost impossible task to make anything out of the mist to the human eye, Seungmin surprises himself at the sight of a boy riding in a rather small boat.

He seems happy. Excited, would be a better word. It was like he didn’t even realize the gravity of the situation he somehow was in. The siren didn’t have to check twice to realize the boy, who seemed to be in his first adult years, wouldn’t survive the whole night out in the hell of earth.

Still, it was good entertainment for him and his only company in the vast world that was called ocean.

He focuses his eyes in the water, praying to every deity he was ever taught about in school that he could find his best friend in the whole place that they called home. Soon enough, the silhouette of a mermaid hunting after a crab that was way too big for her to eat alone, came into view. Such a greedy bastard, in his opinion.

After some minutes you’ve finally come up from your diving, showing excitedly to your friend the 1:00 am snack you just found.

“Look at this Min! It’s a dungeness crab!” you yell. Grabbing the crab with both hands and putting it in front of Seungmin’s face, you continue, “Bigger than their usually size for some unknown reason… isn’t it amazing?”

The contagious smile in your face fades away quite quickly when he takes the crustacean out of your hands and pulls you with him behind the stack he was hiding himself with. When he’s got your attention, he goes as far as putting his arms all the way at the top of the rock and putting all his weight in the cold and rough landform.

“If you’re that hungry maybe he should be your next victim.”

You follow his eyes until you spot a boat in the middle of the ocean. You rub your eyes just in case you’ve seen that wrong. No, totally right, there’s a deranged boy in a tiny boat in the middle of the ocean, way past midnight.

“Do you think he has a suicide wish?” you ask, resting your head in the stack.

“Nah, it looks like he’s just dumb.”

You cackle at your friends’ words, but your laughs quickly end when you see him eating your well earned snack. “Hey! You gluttonous blobfish look-alike!” You puff out your cheeks and pounce on top of him, creating a big splash sound. “Give me back my food!”

With a staffed mouth and tired eyes, Seungmin uses his free hand to cover your mouth. “Stop. I think he heard us.”

“Don’t change the topic! He hasn’t! And if so, why does it matter? It’s not like his weak human eyes can see anything with all this fog.”

Contrary to your beliefs, the boy, just as Seungmin said, did hear you. He gets up inside the boat and looks around until he reaches your position. Yes, it might be true he couldn’t see much with the fog, but when the full moonlight is reflecting on you so beautifully, he finds it easy to distinguish the two people looking at him.

His reckless attitude might not have been scary enough to startle you, however, the second his small rectangular object is focusing on the stack you are hiding behind, the fear starts to kick in.

It hasn’t even passed five seconds when you both have submerged in the water. Seungmin still has the half-eaten crab on his hand and you force yourself to not scream at him then and there. He has a quite pained expression on, like he regrets ever saying anything about the human boy being there.

Time passes slowly and quietly. Seungmin, who keeps denying sharing the crab, has gone up leaving you behind. From your position you can see part of the boat and how it’s going in your direction. Almost like a hunter going after their prey.

You lock eyes with Seungmin while remaining in your position. This has never happened before, but you know exactly what to do. He nods his head and starts swimming, quickly having reached the boat. You cover your ears the moment he starts singing, the boy’s eyes adapt a white color and his boat changes directions. It isn’t necessary, but you dive in and hit your tail against the water, the sudden wave making the boat move faster.

Soon enough the boat is on the closest island. Which was casually famous for how many sailors shipwrecked there.

You waste no time to reach the land, making sure the boy is asleep.

“We can't leave him here,” you say without taking your eyes off of him.

“Why not? your pod always did it like this. It’s not our fault he’s out of his mind.” He throws a bunch of seaweed at the boy and sits down. “Always the stupid land people…”

You roll your eyes at your friend’s antics, picking up the plant and throwing it at him. “He looks young. Every young person is stupid. Still, he surely has a family, we just can’t.”

The object in his hands is quickly taken away by you, wanting to see it more closely.

“This is the thing the elders were always so scared of. Seems not that interesting if I’m being honest.”

“You even know how that works?” Seungmin looks strangely interested in the object.

The way you throw it at the sand gives him every answer he needs. Stretching his arm to reach the object without getting out of the water he picks it up, still curious.

“It has to be something really bad. I wasn't even part of the pod and I still frighten every time I see one of these.”

Meanwhile he keeps examining the thing which you quickly learn is called a camera, it said so in the back. You focus on the boy. He has straight black hair and black painted nails. Definitely not the usual look of the typical men you see on ships around your home. He looks at peace, like the induced sleep was everything he needed to be happy. Your hand pushes away the hair out of his eyes, but you regret it when he stirs in his sleep. Thankfully, he doesn’t wake up.

A sudden flash takes you out of your trance and you quickly turn to the other side. Seungmin is holding the camera in your direction, with an open mouth and even bigger eyes.

You frown your eyebrows and wait for an explanation, but when he shows your reflection in the tiny little object, you almost choke in your saliva.

“Why am I in there?!” you shriek a bit too distressed.

He, however, just starts laughing. His sight stays on the camera and the rest of the people that are in it. With one last look at the sleeping boy he goes underwater still laughing. Still too anguished to even remember the existence of the boy, you go after Seungmin, wanting to know more about the new object in your possession.

Waking up alone on an island at what seemed very early hours of the morning wasn’t common for Chan. In fact, he didn’t think it was common for anyone.

Rubbing his eyes as he gets up, he starts to panic. The reality of the situation he’s in starting to sink in. He's on an island, alone. At least he still has his phone.

The small screen marks 6:37 am and Chan is about to rip all of his hair off.

Was it a bad idea to travel the ocean alone at night? Yes, but he didn’t think he would blackout only one hour after parting and wake up on what seemed like an undiscovered island. It looked completely deserted. The lack of trees made it seem like a hurricane had come over and destroyed everything.

It doesn't pass long when Chan starts to feel the loneliness that characterizes the place. This only worsens when he realizes his camera is gone, all his memories with it.

He tries to look at the problem from an optimistic view, like he always does, but it’s quite difficult at the moment. He throws himself backwards falling on the sand, trying to remember what had happened last night for him to feel like he was hungover.

When he’s about to fall asleep again he hears giggles. Loud ones. Sitting up he’s able to distinguish two heads coming out from the water. A girl and a boy. She's laughing so hard Chan thinks she might be left without oxygen. He's frowning so hard that Chan thinks he might lose his eyebrows. And everything is wholesome until he sees his camera in the girl’s hands.

“Hey, you! Is that my camera?” Chan asks, perplexed and annoyed.

if you had turned your head any faster your neck would have probably broken. A hundred and more curse words start to pop up in your head, you had completely forgotten about the boy’s existence. However, you don’t have too much more time to look at him because Seungmin pulls your hand underwater with him.

It might have been the dazed state he was in, but he jumps into the water the moment you disappear. He wants to be angry, but right after seeing two tails swimming, his mind breaks into tiny pieces. He stays there, floating, seeing you swim until you suddenly stop.

Your eyes are shining, and not in a figurative way. A very sparkly neon blue has taken over your iris, making him feel immediately curious about you.

Seungmin pulls and pulls, but you stay still. The boy’s unfocused eyes roam your face and yours roam his clothes, knowing he will regret wearing them the moment he starts swimming. Your hand tightens around his camera, it isn’t fair. Nothing of what you did to him is.

Finally you break free from Seungmin’s grip and swim to the boy. He starts to look fidgety, almost shy, but you don’t pay attention to it. When you have finally reached him, he has gone to the surface, unable to hold his breath any longer.

The moment you follow him to the surface Seungmin rolls his eyes. “Stupid love-struck mermaids and they’re dumb land boys.”

Your eyes go back to normal and an awkward smile covers your face. He, however, seems to have fallen out of his trance, adopting now a terrified expression.

“I’m sorry.”

They are simple, yet powerful words. You hand him the camera, but he seems reluctant to even the mere thought of touching you.

“Are you gonna kill me?” he says with puppy eyes and water from his hair dripping all over his face.

You bite your lip in order to stop the laughs that are threatening to get out. Taking his wrist you put his palm faced upwards, and then leave the camera on it. Lastly, you close his hand over the object, his eyes not leaving yours.

“You'd be dead already if I wanted to kill you.”

He gulps and looks down at his camera. He should get out of here right at this exact moment, but he can’t.

With shaky hands he opens up the camera gallery, only to be met with multiple photos of you and the boy who you were previously with. There’s zoomed photos of the scales in your tail, photos of you eating what seemed to be a lobster, and more of the same. The last one was a photo of your friend asleep in a destroyed ship. It made a smile creep up on his face.

Your webbed hand circling firmly around his wrist takes him back to earth. Your unusually long nails brush against the start of his palm and he feels the need to examine the scales scattered around your hand. It's then when he, once again, remembers a girl with a tail is in front of him. A mermaid stole from him and all he is doing is adoring her features. But mermaids don’t exist, right?

Your name comes out as a whisper and it makes his wandering eyes stay still. His breath gets caught up in his throat and he is suddenly super aware of his surroundings. Hearing you talk feels like honey dripping.

“I'm Chan,” he whispers back, too afraid to break the soothing atmosphere that formed around you.

Much to Chan's dismay, every bubble has to explode at some point. In this case, it breaks the moment neon green eyes appear in between you and him.

Chan jumps scared and flinches. He is quick to pick out your rolling eyes and the small smack you give the boy. The situation is quite comedic, but the green eyes torturing him make him stay as motionless as a doll.

You, not as entertained and not even a bit horrified by Seugmin’s actions, take him by the hair and pull. He shrieks immediately of course, his whole ‘evil siren act’ going away with the wind.

“Are you trying to kill me or what?!” He is holding his head and trying to look at you as scary as he can.

Now you’re entertained.

“Don’t mind Seungmin, he wasn’t fed enough sardines when he was born.”

Chan is… speechless. He doesn't know if it’s his survival instincts, or just the fact that he is completely terrified, but he starts swimming your opposite way. However, just as you predicted, he starts regretting wearing clothes when they slow him down more and more every second.

His sort of escape plan is doomed when Seungmin appears in front of him, his hands squeezing Chan's shoulders. Slowly, he starts making Chan retrocede, until your hands replace Seungmin’s.

Chan doesn’t dare to turn, he is sure he would break right after seeing your face. And yet, what you do is a hundred times worse.

“Are you dumb or just intimidated?”

Your breath hits his nape and your hands pass to be intertwined over his chest. Trying to distract himself with fear is no longer possible as Seungmin has gone underwater. All that is left for Chan are your whispers and hair tickling him.

You sigh, satisfied with having Chan's attention back to you, even if he wasn’t directly looking at you. Turning him around, you smile. His eyes are as big as the ones of a celestial eye goldfish and his Adam's apple goes up and down every second. It's cute. He is cute.

Intertwining his hand with yours, you pull. The sudden movement makes him dizzy, not expecting that much strength.

Soon enough you’re back at the island he shipwrecked on. He immediately sits down and takes a big breath. You once again, smile. Meeting a land boy for the first time was in no way as horrible as your elders used to tell you. It was in some way… comforting.

While he takes an apple from the fruits he had saved in his boat, you slowly dive into the water. This only lasts so little as you hear his screams.

“Are you gonna leave just like that?”

You bite your lip and resurface just as much so your eyes are visible. Looking one last time at him you wink, leaving him as perplexed as before, and even more curious.

“I can’t believe you left him just like that,'' Seungmin says as he helps you clean the multiple lobsters from his lying position. “I’m proud of you.”

You smile, something inevitable every time you are with Seungmin. Which is mostly every day, every month, every year.

Most would think that spending so much time with one person and only that one person could get tiring, infuriating even. Nevertheless, that isn’t the case.

At the end of the day, he is the only person who hasn’t left you. Seungmin is a brother, an annoying one, but still one. A mermaid and a siren, who not only endure each other’s company, but enjoy it. This is why his opinions are very important to you, but you really are disliking his latest one.

“Honestly we should just leave him there to riot. He’s a human boy who looks rather young and the only thing worse than an old mad sailor is a young stupid adventurer.” He is slowly getting up from the old couch of the abandoned ship you have your home on, like he wasn’t just talking of leaving an innocent boy alone to die. “We can’t trust that idiot, we’ll be being tested on in seconds.”

You shut your eyes for a second. He is so… intense. It would be ironic to say he is just like the conservative elders, but to you, right now it feels like he is. He can’t accept things changing, you get it, but that doesn’t stop you from getting angry because of it.

And the worst thing is that you can’t even give him the benefit of the doubt, think that he might be right, because he won’t. All it took was a look at Chan to see how harmless he was.

Hitting the table with the lobster shell makes him take his eyes away from the one he was cleaning himself. He has his confused face on and his hands have stopped working.

“Why are you so mean?”

“What? you were the one who left him stranded there. Which was, by the way, the best thing you could’ve done.”

You puff out your cheeks and press your nails to the table, multiple cracks start to be audible. “I wasn't planning on leaving him there forever.”

“So what, you wanna invite him over? See how he slowly dies after the oxygen leaves his system?” Seungmin hissed, visibly annoyed with the conversation.

Getting up from your seat, you throw the rest of the lobster and let it fall wherever. You can hear Seungmin’s screams as you leave the ship, but you ignore them.

Saying you’re angry wouldn’t be enough, you are furious. Hopefully Chan’s shy smile would be able to lift your mood.

You swim slowly at the very bottom of the ocean, pressure so high it would kill any human who dared to visit it. Yet, you thrive in it. A family of pseudoliparis appears in your path, bringing a smile to your face.

The feeling of being able to meet these deep-ocean species, knowing they live isolated

from the rest of the creatures the humans associate with the ocean, makes you feel lucky. You know they would be hated if land people knew of them, just because they aren’t as pretty as a seahorse, or as friendly as a tetras. They’re survivors, and that’s all that’s important when you live in the ocean.

After bidding your goodbyes you keep going. Some minutes in you find yourself surrounded by fish, since you have run into what could easily be hundreds of carcasses. Letting them pass, you change directions, however, you’re not ready for what you find.

Multiple aquamarine gems are in front of you. Each bigger than the one you saw before it. A vast variety of greens and blues that take the spotlight. When you go to take one of the bigger ones your eyes start to prick, salty tears rolling down your face.

“I just don’t understand you! I thought I raised you correctly, making clear what is okay and what isn’t!”

Your hands tremble and your head is downcasted, facing the aquamarine all around your bedroom floor.

“Do you even know what this means?” She sighs and passes her hand through her hair. Her eye bags are more prevalent than ever and it seems like even talking about this makes her suffer. “They’re going to kick you out.”

You start sobbing uncontrollably, the seriousness of the situation setting in. Being kicked out of the pod, a mermaid’s worst nightmare.

You beg, plead for forgiveness, but she only says that she can’t do anything. You cry and cry and cry and your tears start becoming recognisable puddles in the water. You feel like dying.

“Help! Please help!”

Cries for help get you back from your memories and makes you turn your head faster than a sailfish. It all happens too fast, the only thing that is keeping you alert is the fact that the screams sound a bit too much like Chan’s voice.

That's the moment you start thinking Seungmin might be right. Chan is at the end of the day, a human. He's a prey in the water, just like a newborn.

When you find him he is already unconscious. He looks at peace, but you know he probably has just lived one of the worst experiences of his life.

He still has a pulse, which calms you slightly but doesn’t make you swim slower when you are bringing him to the island.

Your hand makes it to his forehead, confirming he has a fever. His hand tightly holds his camera, and you can only question what he was even thinking of doing.

It feels like the sun starts shining brighter when Chan starts coughing water and blinking rapidly. His arms start to move around until he finds your hands, intertwining them with his almost immediately.

“Are you okay?” Your words come out before you can stop them, making you want to give yourself as food to the sharks.

He opens one eye and looks at you while lying. He laughs, and it’s a weird moment since he was just floating unconscious underwater. However, you enjoy it. It makes you remember why you even went out looking for him in the first place.

He is easy to be around, comforting.

“I mean, I almost died in the most painful way possible so…” His smile stays on, but his laughs have stopped.

Looking at him, you realize he seems different, like seeing you preoccupied for him gave him a confident boost. Made him look like he was teasing you.

“The most painful way to die? what about burning alive?”

“Nah, drowning would not only kill me but also my ego, totally worse.”

For the first time of the day you laugh. Your laugh resonates around the whole island, so intense that you need to cover your mouth to stop it.

Meanwhile all this happens, he sits up. His eyes can’t not travel to yours with your laugh filling his ears. Being able to focus in your hands like this, while intertwined with his, makes him smile a bit harder. Your hands are cold and not wrinkled as expected from someone who lives in the water, but soft and full of scales. He had already had an opportunity to observe them, but seeing them like this, it was another level.

He’s amazed by them, that is, of course, until he realizes your red eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

His hands pull on yours to get your attention, extremely aware of your distressed appearance now. “Hey, did something happen?”

His eyebrows are furrowed and his mouth is slightly open. He still is breathing loudly, his chest going up and down with each breath.

He is cross-legged and you are resting your forearms on the shore. His index finger taps rhythmically in the dorsum of your hand, like he is distracting himself from something. In some way he is, he’s trying to distract himself from the fact that you have been quiet for minutes now.

When you realize this, you finally speak. “Oh no, I just remembered some things.”

Chan tilts his head and his index finger stops. His hand leaves yours and starts touching the multiple shells decorating your hair. It almost feels like he knows exactly what to do to leave you speechless.

“You’re a bad liar.” His hand stops touching your hair and it goes to support his head.

“I'm not about to tell a stranded human boy my problems.”

“Why not? Just because I am a human doesn’t mean I don't know how to give advice. Quite the opposite actually.”

You sigh and look at the sand. You can feel Chan's eyes still on you, examining every scale that is scattered around your neck and down your body. You shouldn’t, he is a stranger and from a different world, but when you look at him again and his eyes hold the most comforting look in them, you can’t resist telling him everything.

The waters around your house are quiet when you bring Seungmin into your bedroom. It’s the first time he has been here, mainly because he shouldn’t be. In fact, even him just being around you is a crime you should have never committed, but there was nothing to do about it now.

If it wasn’t completely necessary you wouldn’t have brought him here, however, you couldn’t just leave him in the middle of nowhere to wait for you to come back when he had fishing gear all around his tail.

Sitting him down in your bed you go to take your crusher claw from your night table. His whimpers make you bite your tongue and try to get the gear out of him as fast as possible. When you finally do, multiple wounds can be seen all around his tail. He has tears in his eyes and his hands tightly grasp onto your bed.

Taking small pieces of seaweed you put them on top of his wounds to stop the bleeding. He has another cut under his right eye, so you put a piece there too. You pull him in for a hug, he hasn’t talked at all since you found him, but you can tell he enjoys the warmth when he tightens the embrace.

It's safe to say you have never seen Seungmin like this before. He has puffy eyes and he is trembling. Head down, avoiding making eye contact with you. You don’t force him, knowing how difficult bumping into sailors can be.

You have forgotten about the pass of time, having been rubbing circles on Seungmin’s back for the last hour, completely ignoring the place you found yourself in. The waters had a darker tone now, going from crystal water to a grayish color. Today was destined to be the day your life’s get destroyed.

Your door opens and when you have realized it’s too late. Your mom is at the door, frozen in her place. Her eyes don’t leave Seungmin’s body and suddenly your breathing starts to get heavier.

The green that decorates every single one of his scales leaves his true nature revealed to everyone to see. Your mom’s eyes are filled with fear, an emotion you aren’t used to seeing in them.

Tension clings onto the room, the three of you looking at each other with agitation in your faces. Much to your dismay, your father is the next person who enters your bedroom.

Unlike in your mother, all you can see in his eyes is anger.

“Out,” he says as his gaze doesn’t leave Seungmin’s for a second.

You see your friend get up off your bed and get out by the window he entered from in the first place. His swimming is slow and floppy like the one of a hatchling, but you’re glad he is able to move again already.

You lock eyes with your mother. Your father has left the room after slapping the door closed, and you know there is no way you are getting out of this one.

She comes close to you, pushing your head to her chest. Tears have started flowing through her face, going down her cheeks and ending on her neck.

It’s quiet for a second, her hands resting on your shoulders. She stays like that for some time, you lose track of time, not knowing if minutes or hours have passed. No one prepares you for what your mother tells you next.

A week later.

The whole pod stands around you in the center of the city. A statue of Amphitrite stands behind you, her eyes made of stone burning holes in your head.

Over your shoulders hangs a big shell necklace, the one the crime committee always puts in the kids that break the rules. The one the kids that are kicked out always wear.

The elders whisper while tears spill out of your eyes. You’re the reason for the trial, and still, you’re invisible to them. They judge, point, some even laugh.

When your father takes a step forward everyone shuts up, everyone waiting for the king’s second in charge to talk.

“The king will be here in short, until then I ask everyone to keep it calm.”

Your heart sinks when he doesn’t look at you, realizing you have disappointed your family.

You don’t have to wait too long for the king to arrive, but time’s relative, so you’re sure you have been standing in front of Amphitrite for years.

When he stands in front of you, all the oxygen in your system leaves your lungs. His lips curl into a grimace, his left eyebrow going up. He looks you up and down, making you feel smaller than any of the elders’ whispers ever did.

“This is her? the one who brought a siren into my realm?”

Your gaze meets your father’s for a second, but he quickly moves to look at the king’s back. “Yes majesty.”

Before even a second passes the king’s nails are dunked in your cheeks. His hand pushes your head upwards making you look him straight in the eyes.

“How dare you dirty this heaven with the presence of that monstrous creature.” His fingers harden around your chin, breathing becoming harder by the second. “It’s always the kids who don’t know how to follow the rules.”

Harshly dropping your face, he steps back. His hands go through his hair pushing it back. He is one of the most merciless men you have ever seen, and he is about to decide the future of your life.

Your father hands him the ceremonial stone. The official document where every single citizen of the realm is noted when they are born. The king touches your engraved name, almost like he is thinking about his next move. You know better, you know your fate has been decided for days now.

With a snap of his fingers the water makes pressure until your name is crossed. A single tear comes out from your eye.

“This girl has let us all down, bringing the enemy to our homes. She must leave the pod.” He elevates his arm when people start talking again. “However, she will not be the one going away.”

Your head is blank and your attention in the trial disappeared when you started to sob again, but you still manage to listen to their gasps.

“We are not safe here anymore. It's only about time that the sirens come here. We will head off to the north, where an old realm is. You, little girl, will stay with your best friends, the sirens.”

You can’t believe what reaches your ears. They are leaving, leaving the whole realm behind like it was nothing. Leaving you.

You fall to the floor, the rusty shackles around your hands colliding against it. “Please! I’ll do whatever!”

“It’s decided, kid.”

Sobs were the only thing heard that night by anyone close to the plaza. As the condemned mermaid refused to get back to her house and fell asleep crying.

The day after.

Motion covers the plaza as people go back and forth with all of their belongings. Hushed whispers are heard, mainly discussing the situation of the girl sleeping against Amphitrite’s statue.

Neon green eyes observe everything from afar. His best friend, lying on the ground like a rag doll. Not caring about the shocked looks he receives, he picks you up just like you did when he was hurt. At the end of the day, this was siren territory now, right? He could do anything he wanted.

After some time you start to move against the old blanket he had put over you. One of the various things the old ship where he stayed at had. You weren’t too far away from the realm, close enough to see everyone starting to meet in a circle.

You rub your eyes with your knuckles and start getting up. All of the crying made your eyes puffy, making it difficult to see now. And even so, you are able to catch a glimpse of your family. Your mother doesn’t look better than you. Your father stays with the king, like his job is the only thing that matters. Not his abandoned daughter, not his anxious wife.

When everyone is together and about to leave, you choke out a sob. Left hand in your mouth and the other one holding the shackles Seungmin took off of you.

His hand goes up and down over your back, in such a similar way you did days ago that it gives you déjà vu. You cry until everyone leaves, holding onto the only person who didn’t disappear from your life in just seconds.

Seungmin removes the single tear falling from his left eye and turns to give you privacy. You don’t know he is there, but he feels like he shouldn’t pry. Not when you have just told a land boy the most painful time of your life, not when he is hugging you so tight you might break.

He sits on a stack and waits. He didn’t like to remember, especially not those days. The day not only his but also your life was ruined was something he tended to put in the back of his mind and pray so nothing reminded him of it. Each day was harder, contrary to what most people said. He guesses that’s the reason why he started tearing up when you started telling the story.

You are laughing, and he doesn’t know why, but he is happy the stupid human made you laugh. The moment he has been waiting for finally comes when you say goodbye and go underwater, almost like a luring siren after hunting a prey. However, you are just a loving mermaid.

Going after you, he catches you almost immediately. He has always been the fastest one.

You are wary, the memories putting you on alert. Seeing the boy’s face is definitely a surprise, or at least that’s what he takes from your slightly ajar mouth and fast blinking.

He offers you the lobster in his hand. A good memory. An old tradition, if you will.

You smile, without showing your teeth, but smile. When you accept the gift Seungmin lets out a relieved sigh. You take a bite and so does he. A weird conciliation for others, but normal for you.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all those horrible things about the human. I don’t know him, so I shouldn’t assume.”

You redirect your gaze, looking at the fish around you. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn't have exploded like that, I know how much you’ve suffered because of humans.” You look up and let out a laugh, not believing what you’re about to say. “I also don’t really know him, he could be a super good liar who happens to be a mad scientist who’s going to sacrifice me.”

“That boy? He passes as a scientist as much as I pass as a dolphin.”

You laugh, lobster being eaten quickly while you de-stress.

“I wouldn’t call him a boy, he’s a grown up.”

“Oh so you’ve already asked for his personal data huh. What’s next, asking him to co-parent a seahorse with you?” Seungmin takes the last part of the lobster while you put on an offended expression while he laughs.

“I don’t do those kinds of things!”

“What about seventh grade? Didn’t you—”

You jump out of your place in the stack you settled on and cover his mouth with your hand. He licks your palm and you retract disgusted. You shake your hand up and down while sending daggers at him.

“I didn’t tell you that just so you would make fun of me for it!”

“Rookie mistake,” he says with a smirk on his face.

Swiftly enough you’re back at your ship, both of you lying in the old couch where hundreds of humans (and mermaids) had lied in the past. It’s too tiny for the both of you, your tails are colliding and Seungmin is about to fall any second now, but neither of you seems to mind.

“So… that human?”

His words roll out of his tongue like nothing else had before. He has got that knowing look on his face, making it impossible for you to even try to lie to him.

“He’s cute,” you say trying to sound nonchalant, feeling the complete opposite.

Embarrassed was all you felt at the moment. A rather disoriented land boy was making you feel something you hadn’t felt in a long time. Ease.

Seungmin smiles. No, he smirks, tongue going over his lips and arms under his head. These gestures indicate he is about to make fun of something. In this case, of you.

“At least it isn’t one of those old sweaty sailors, not even my ancestors would’ve eaten them.”

You groan, hands covering your face due to the growing embarrassment. He lets out a laugh, clearly enjoying your suffering. Your hands move quickly and a sudden wave has pushed him out of the couch, making him hit the deck rather strongly. You’re the one laughing now.

“Rude!”

He throws a pillow that had fallen before, hitting you in the face. You gasp, ready to make him regret ever starting this war. When you are about to strangle him he holds your wrists in the air.

“Easy there! Do you think the land boy is gonna want to kiss a murderer?” Seungmin teases with his neon green eyes shining.

“You’re so dead, Kim Seungmin!”

If your father could see you right now, you would probably be punished for life. Hands intertwined with the ones of a land boy, pushing and guiding him through the ocean.

If your father was here, you would be hiding and stressed, but he isn’t, so you grab Chan’s face and scream at him how fun this is. His laugh reaches your ears, eyes closing as the breeze hits your face.

Your hands over your hair, feeling the water drenching it. Chan has been on the island for five days now, surviving with fruits and fish you and Seungmin (him being forced by you), have hunted and heated for him.

It’s about to be midnight, and Chan has convinced you to take him with you in your nightly swim.

Your back is facing him and he can’t stop himself from worshiping your silhouette. He had tried to go back to his senses, trying to convince himself that his fixation on you was just your mermaid charms. He quickly rejected that idea when you explained the ones with the alluring charms were the sirens, not your kind. He still thinks you casted a love spell on him anyways, because the thoughts he has about you aren’t normal for someone he had only met five days ago.

Neon blue eyes meet his, any coherent thought leaving his mind. Your arms circle around his neck, hands combining behind it.

“So, you’re aware you really can’t come with me, right?”

Your words shake some sense into him. Of course, you can breathe underwater, he cannot. He would die in minutes if he was to go with you.

He pouts, hands finding your shoulders and gripping tightly. “Don’t you have some old diving equipment in that ship of yours?”

You laugh and push him off you. Humans and their crazy beliefs. You still laugh every time you remember the time he asked you if you lived in Atlantis. The single thought of him being able to dive with you was insane. Right?

Underwater school was very different from what you knew about the schools land people attended. Yes, in both institutions history was taught, but aside from that, they weren’t much alike. Apart from History, your classes consisted of: Swimming; Spell Casting; Powers; Herbology and Marine Zoology. Spell Casting was never one of your best subjects, however, you did remember an old tale your teacher told the class once.

Your hands hold onto the boy’s forearms wanting his whole attention. It doesn’t take long until you have it. It’s starting to be cold, shivers run through his body but his eyes don’t leave yours.

Silence surrounds you, the moonlight shining over you like the night you first met. The moment is confidential, intimate if you will. Chan can only feel his whole body burning up when you close off the distance, your lips at the shell of his ear.

“I’m going to do something, and I need you to be calm.” Your nose rests over his cheekbone, nails almost craving your mark on him. When he is about to talk, you get ahead. “Do you trust me?”

Saliva gets stuck in his throat, any attempt at talking gone in vain. His brain says no, pleading for Chan to realize he is in front of a mythical creature that could kill him in seconds, but his heart says otherwise. He nods, hoping, praying, it’s enough of an answer for you.

Neon blue eyes shine before they’re closing and your lips are stealing a kiss from him. It’s short and fast, lips colliding and separating under three seconds. Pulling backwards you leave him wanting for more, needing to feel your lips on his again. A rapid action that he couldn’t quite wait to repeat.

Yet, before he can execute any of his desires, your hands around his forearms are pulling and water hits your vision like Chan had never experienced before. Fish swim around you, not in any way trying to harm you but rather welcoming you to their homes, leaving the human in awe. He finds himself mesmerized by the marine wildlife, not even realizing his newfound ability of breathing underwater.

Your hands have left his arms, leaving him swimming behind you. Slowing down, you stop, waiting for him to reach you. When he does, you don’t think he is going to be able to say anything about any of the million thoughts that surely are going through his mind at the moment.

When everything is new, and terrifying, Chan hugs you. It’s tight, like he had been waiting for this moment for his whole life. Various families of sea stars stop their journey to wait and see the moment.

He gets out of the embrace and smiles. He is fast, not as fast as you, but faster than most humans. It feels like he is in his element when he speeds through the water getting ahead of you. It’s mesmerizing, how his wet hair sticks to his eyes but he still swims like it’s breathing for him. It’s captivating, but again, everything about him seems to be.

Hundreds of cobalt awaits you when you reach the bottom of the ocean. Chan is pretty sure he just won the lottery, he can’t even start to think how he should feel right now. He looks to his left and knows it right away. He feels enchanted. Enchanted by your neon blue eyes, and your scales and tail, but overall, by you. By the way you laugh at his questions and smile as his hands hold yours.

Your mind goes faster than The Francisco, thoughts racing to be the one that catches your attention. And still, Chan appears to be the one that always has it. Locking eyes with him, you grasp his hand and tug. Before he can even blink, you’re already at the surface.

A dumbfounded smile finds its way to Chan’s face. He’s gleaming, the moonlight shining on him like she just found a new son.

“I didn’t die!” he says, eyes sparkling and the hand in yours trembly.

“No you didn’t.”

The ocean is filled with laughs and giggles, easiness coming off you. Your hand leaves his hold and goes to his hair, it’s dripping wet and curly. You are sure it had been like that before, you simply hadn’t realized it until now.

His curls wrap around your fingers the second you touch them. They are soft and shiny and you can’t comprehend why the first time you saw Chan his hair was straight.

“Your hair is curly,” you state the obvious.

“Yeah, I usually straighten it though.” His hand goes up his forehead and removes the strands of hair that keep falling over his eyes.

Your eyes narrow, curious and confused. Hearing your unsaid question, he answers. “Most people I know like it more when it’s straight.”

You scoff, hands going up his chest to his shoulders. Pushing him closer, you entangle your hands on his hair again, focusing on his wild locks.

“Well, mermen who have curly hair are praised on since it’s told that they are descendants of Poseidon.” You look down, giggles erupting from you before you can stop them. Arms tangling around his neck. “And as you probably know, he’s kind of a notorious figure for us. You’d be pretty famous around here Chan, all of the mermaids behind you waiting for your praise…”

Scents combine and heat rises to Chan’s cheekbones. The tips of his ears are reddening, heartbeat going up alongside, noses brush and then you are gone.

His eyes open up, mad at your playfulness but you are smiling with your lower lip caught under your teeth, so he lets it pass. Aware of his brand new ability not lasting forever, he leaves you in order to explore more of the vast world that consists of your home.

Reaching the island shortly after being left alone, you sit on the shore close to Chan’s boat. All of the fruits he had brought with him had already ended yesterday, his rod left useless beside the empty basket.

Buzz against your arm startles you until you see what Chan had explained before was his phone.

(1:47) Felix

dude where are you

everyone is crazy worried for you

your parents almost called the police but minho convinced them not to

you were supposed to go max one day to catch us some cool fish not be gone for 5 days

text back as fast as possible!!

Your hand goes up to your mouth and you turn to look at the boy playing in the water. You had almost forgotten. He is a human, with a life on land and loved ones waiting for him to come back to them.

A presence appears behind you, a comforting hand resting on your shoulder. You sigh, after all, Seungmin was right, Chan didn’t belong with you.

“I can make him go peacefully right now, you just need to bring him here and give me the green light.”

Seungmin’s words make your eyes shine with tears. It would be stupid to say it was love, nevertheless, you didn’t think just because it wasn’t love your feelings for him didn't matter or weren’t supposed to be taken seriously.

People leaving is a natural occurrence that happens to everyone. You, in particular, are very much aware that change happens and sometimes there is no control about it. However, are you ready to let the curly haired boy leave your life forever?

It’s times like these when you understand why your elders always warned the youngest about approaching the land people. It wasn’t about the possible danger, but about the almost sure attachment.

You want to say goodbye, but you know if you even try, you won’t be able to let him go.

Seungmin hugs you from behind, chin resting over your head due to your seating position, “sorry’s” being whispered between the two of you. Before you know it he is gone, screaming to get the human’s attention.

You don’t turn, but you hear Seungmin’s voice doing magic on Chan. Your hands cover your ears before it’s too late. You regret it when you hear Chan falling on Seungmin’s arms, wishing you were asleep too.

Blur is all around you, the figure of the human being left in his boat by Seungmin becoming a vague shadow between the gloom and the moonlight.

Cleaning the tear falling from your left eye, you close your eyes and put your hands together. Next, a wave is carrying Chan to where he came from. Home.

Uselessness wasn’t an uncommon feeling for Chan, it was rather regular to be honest, but that didn’t mean he expected to feel it about his summer love ending abruptly.

Summer love, quite the funny wording for five days of discovery and enjoyment. He knows it wasn’t love, but that doesn’t stop him from calling it that.

He would say what he is more angry about is the abruptness of it all. You were gone as fast as you appeared. No, he was the one gone. No goodbyes, no explanations, only a fast travel back to his family.

He remembers perfectly the sensation of waking up at shore in Sydney with aquamarines filling his before empty fruit basket. Wanting to scream into the water, pleading for you to come back, trying to go back to you swimming and realizing he couldn’t breath underwater anymore.

His parents had been furious, asking for explanations and giving him mad reactions when he said he wanted to feel the marine nature from closer. He had always been a bad liar.

His friends had asked for explanations as well, but ended up joking about his little adventure, pretending that he had been enchanted by a siren. Little did they know.

Sitting in his house, eating sardines with his visiting friend from Korea wasn’t exactly as fun as it should be. He didn’t want to be there, as much as he loved Minho, he earned for your touch, to kiss you one last time like kisses were supposed to be given, not like your first one was.

Sighing, he got up, going outside and letting the night breeze play with his curls. Almost feeling your hands threading through his hair.

The nights pass, the moon shining as bright as ever for her new son. As time passes, your memory begins to fade from Chan’s brain. The forever beautiful mermaid leaving him quietly like a daughter coming home late from a party.

He believes to have seen inhuman blue eyes peeking from the water to his house sometimes, but he lets it wash away from his mind.

Old ancestors' stories tell that a true love kiss from a mermaid can give humans the power to breathe underwater for the rest of their life’s. But don’t get too ahead of yourselves hatchlings, there’s no actual record of that being true. Different worlds are not meant to collide.

@mochamvgz @leonsmain

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