#I love writing this one

[dreamdragonkadia]

Heyyy I saw that your open to percy jackson request and I was wondering if you could write a percy jackson x mortal reader. And kinda have him confessing to her that he's a demigod and her comforting him since he was anxious about telling her because he was afraid of her leaving and like it ends very sweet and stuff

Orrr still mortal reader and having a reunion after he went missing in camp Jupiter ( hurt/comfort)

Or maybe (if you read trials of apollo ofc) her finding apollo and meg and bringing them to percy and apollo kinda flirting with her since I loooooove jealous percy . I have tons of ideas and there aren't a lot of percy x mortal reader so I'd definitely like to see more of those

Ofc no pressure and I'm looking forward to future writings of yours since I absolutely love them 💕

Have a lovely day/night

*Very aggressively shaking the iron bars of my enclosure* THANK YOU!!! I will give you all the kisses for this. These prompts are sooooo good, but I especially love the first one because—get this—I was LITERALLY thinking of something like this today. Me and you? Same brain wavelength. We are sharing one single Seaweed Brain cell. I didn’t have a good prompt for the idea until this message, so you basically unlocked it for me. I’m thinking older Percy for this one—end-of-college Percy, maybe just out of it, living the “young adult with a job, bills, and a mortgage of trauma” life.

p.jackson x mortal! reader

He knew it had to happen eventually.

At some point—sooner rather than later—Percy had to tell you the truth. The burden of it sat heavy on his chest every time you looked at him with that effortless smile, completely unaware of the worlds you were in the middle of. His mom had been pushing him to say something for months. Three years together, living in a shared apartment that still had mismatched plates and walls full of inside jokes, and the idea of forever had started to feel real. Tangible.

He had even caught Poseidon dropping hints in his own cryptic, godly way. A trident-shaped mark burned into the sand on the beach during one of your trips. A perfectly placed seashell—blue and green, suspiciously matching Percy’s eyes—that had been ‘just lying there’ when you pointed it out. When Percy had confronted his dad about it, Poseidon had only grunted something about "honoring the love of your life." Because, of course, Poseidon thought this was simple. As if breaking the news that monsters were real and Percy Jackson was the son of an actual Greek god wouldn't send you sprinting in the opposite direction.

It wasn’t fair to you. He knew that.

It wasn’t fair to keep the truth buried beneath all the late-night Netflix marathons and quiet breakfasts where you’d steal bites off his plate without asking. But Percy didn’t know how to say it. How do you casually drop “Oh, by the way, monsters are real, the Greek gods are alive, and I’ve basically been fighting for my life since I was twelve?”

He was scared—terrified, actually. The thought of losing you clawed at his heart more than any monster ever had. You—his beautiful, mortal partner who grounded him in ways he never knew he needed. You, who could calm him with a touch when nightmares of Tartarus left him shaking. You, who didn’t know it, but gave him the kind of world he could fight for all over again.

Sometimes, though, Percy swore you could see through the Mist. The moments were fleeting but there all the same.

Like that time in Central Park when you’d been walking ahead of him, suddenly stopping short to squint at a gnarled tree root. You tilted your head and muttered, “I could’ve sworn that moved…” Then there were the times you furrowed your brows, staring off into space, and said, “I think I’m going crazy, Perce. I swear that pit bull had glowing eyes.” Percy had only laughed it off back then, pulling you close and kissing the top of your head like it was nothing.

It wasn’t nothing.

He’d seen the way you brushed it off when a shadow moved the wrong way. Or how you frowned at the old man selling ‘authentic drachmas’ outside a museum exhibit. How sometimes you blinked a little too hard, shook your head, and said, “Never mind.”

Percy knew better. You weren’t crazy. The Mist was just thin around you, and whether you realized it or not, you were starting to notice cracks in the veil.

He wondered what you would think of him—of the battles, the gods, the truth of it all. Of the scars he still hadn’t explained and the very obvious celestial bronze sword, he kept under the bed that you assumed was “a really cool prop” from his teenage LARPing days when you saw it lying around. You never pushed him for answers, though, and Percy loved you for that. For trusting him without conditions.

Still, every time you walked into the apartment after work, tossing your keys onto the counter and greeting him with, “What’s for dinner, Seaweed Brain?”—he froze a little inside. It had to be now. Today. Tomorrow. Soon. He couldn’t keep this from you any longer.

But how could he start?

“Hey, babe, remember that glowing pit bull you saw? Yeah, that was probably a hellhound.” No. Too much. Too soon.

Maybe he could ease you into it. Start small. Bring up Greek mythology over dinner. Ask if you believed in ghosts or weird supernatural stuff and see how you reacted. Or maybe he could take you to his mom's for dinner—because Sally could explain it better. She always could.

The problem was, no matter how he planned it, Percy couldn’t shake the knot of anxiety in his stomach. He’d faced Titans, gods, and even Tartarus itself. But nothing—absolutely nothing—was as terrifying as the idea of losing you.

And gods, he really hoped you wouldn’t run.

But tonight, as you sat cross-legged on the couch in your fuzzy socks, absently scrolling on your phone while a random cooking show hummed in the background, he knew this was it.

He couldn’t keep living in this half-truth, couldn’t keep pretending that the monsters weren’t inching closer, that you weren’t starting to see them. The glowing eyes. The shadows. The strange pull toward places even Percy couldn’t explain.

He watched you for a moment, his heart thudding against his ribs like it was trying to escape. You didn’t look up at first, too focused on the screen, but his staring must’ve given him away because you finally glanced over.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You teased, smiling. “Do I have something on my face?”

Percy managed a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No. You’re perfect.”

The words came out too serious, and that was enough for you to frown. You set your phone down on the coffee table, leaning toward him. “What’s wrong?”

His throat went dry. Say it. Just say it.

“Babe, I need to tell you something,” Percy said quietly, fingers fidgeting with the frayed hem of his hoodie sleeve. “It’s… important.”

Your expression shifted, playful teasing giving way to concern. “Okay…? You’re kind of scaring me, Percy. Are you okay?”

He exhaled, running a hand through his dark hair before looking at you—really looking at you. You were everything he’d ever wanted, everything he’d thought he’d never get. And maybe, just maybe, after tonight, you wouldn’t be here anymore.

“I’m okay. But—what I’m about to tell you…” He swallowed hard. “It’s probably going to sound insane. You’ll think I’m joking at first, but I’m not.”

“Percy,” you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

The warmth of your touch anchored him, and for a moment, he almost chickened out again. But he couldn’t keep lying. Not to you.

“I’m not… normal,” he said carefully. “Not like you. Not like anyone, really.”

You blinked, waiting. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Percy paused and then just ripped off the Band-Aid. “I’m a demigod.”

Your brow furrowed. “A what?”

“A demigod,” he repeated, voice firmer this time. “Like—half human, half god. Greek god. My dad is Poseidon. The Poseidon. God of the sea. I’ve been fighting monsters and… dealing with this stuff since I was twelve.”

You stared at him, mouth slightly open, like you weren’t sure whether to laugh or call him crazy. Finally, you let out a soft, disbelieving laugh. “Okay, Seaweed Brain. You’ve been watching too many fantasy movies—”

“I’m serious,” Percy interrupted, “I know it sounds insane, but it’s the truth. I’ve fought monsters. I’ve met gods—like, actual gods. I’ve been to places you wouldn’t believe. The glowing pit bull you saw? That wasn’t just a dog. It was a hellhound. You’ve seen things, haven’t you? Weird stuff you can’t explain?”

You froze, the humor draining from your face. Your mind raced, replaying the times trees flickered the wrong way, the glowing eyes, the strange feeling in your gut that told you something wasn’t right.

“But… Percy,” you whispered, searching his face. “That’s not possible.”

“It is,” he said softly. “And I didn’t tell you because I was scared. Scared you’d think I was crazy. Scared you’d leave. But I can’t keep this from you anymore. It’s not fair.”

You leaned back slightly, like you needed space to process. “So… what, you’re saying the Greek gods are real? And your dad is Poseidon. Like, trident, ocean waves, ‘Little Mermaid’ Poseidon?”

He winced. “Yeah, but don’t say ‘Little Mermaid.’ He gets touchy about that.”

You shot him an incredulous look, as if you couldn’t believe he was cracking jokes right now. “Percy. This is insane. You—you’re insane.”

“I’m not,” he said quickly, desperate. “You’re already starting to see through the Mist—that’s why weird things keep happening around you. You see glimpses of it, even if you don’t realize it. You’re not crazy, okay? You’re just…” He paused, choosing his words. “You’re too close to me. And the closer you are to me, the more the Mist starts to thin.”

You stared at him, the pieces slowly clicking together, even if you didn’t want them to. “You’re serious. You’re actually serious.”

“Yeah.”

“Prove it,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

Percy hesitated only for a second before standing up and pulling something out from under the couch. It was Riptide, now in pen form. He uncapped it, and with a soft shing, it extended into a gleaming, deadly blade.

Your breath caught, your eyes wide as saucers. “That’s—that’s a sword. A real sword.”

“Yeah.” He gave a half-smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s called Riptide. I’ve been carrying it around since I was twelve.”

For a long moment, you didn’t say anything. You just stared at the sword, then at him. Finally, you whispered, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Because I was scared.” His voice cracked slightly, the vulnerability out in the open in it's rawest form. “Scared you’d run. Scared you’d hate me for lying. I thought… maybe if I kept it hidden, I could keep you safe. Keep you normal. But it doesn’t work like that. I’m part of this world, and you’re part of my world. You deserve to know the truth.”

You took a shaky breath, still processing. “So… you’re a demigod. Your dad is Poseidon. Monsters are real. And I’ve been seeing them this whole time?”

“Pretty much.”

“And you thought I’d leave you?”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

You looked at him—really looked at him—and, you saw it: the truth he’d been carrying, the fear, the love. Percy had been fighting his whole life, and here he was, offering you the truth even though it terrified him.

You stood up and walked over to him. He tensed, waiting for the worst. But instead, you placed a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at you. “Percy Jackson, you are an absolute idiot.”

His brows furrowed, but before he could respond, you pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I’m not leaving you.” You kissed the corner of his mouth. “Ever.” Another kiss—this time on his jaw. “Because I love you." Another kiss on his cheek. "Even if this sounds completely insane—and I mean, completely insane—you’re still you.”

Percy’s breath hitched, his arms wrapping around your waist. You kissed him again, firmly this time, and when you pulled back, his face broke into a grin—the first real one all evening.

“I don’t deserve you,” he muttered, pressing kisses to your cheek, then your nose.

You giggled softly, his lips brushing over your skin. “No, you really don’t.”

“Lucky me,” he murmured, kissing the space between his words now—soft, fleeting kisses that made your heart race. “To have—you—in my—life.”

You let out a breathless laugh, pulling him closer. “You’re such a sap, Perce.”

“Yeah,” he murmured against your lips, smiling. “But I’m your sap.”

[beepboopappreciation]

Is this anything

[inkskinned]

because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?

[crimeronan]

god i wish i wouldn't have to explain the intricacies of the neopets economy to you guys to give the full context for this but. the new neopets team that took over from jumpstart pledged that they were going to curb the inflation of rare items, which is great because a lot of rare items are worth literally hundreds of millions of neopoints, they are unbuyable unless you've been playing actively for 20 years. they did this earlier with a site festival that included random loot boxes, some of which had Unbelievably Fucking Rare And Precious items worth 200 million neopoints apiece.

well.

today they have gone a step further. by releasing this year's trick-or-treat bags. and having the trick-or-treat bags be stuffed to the brim with unbelievably fucking rare stamps, weapons, paint brushes, defense magic, and other unbuyables. (all prohibitively expensive and in-high-demand types of items.)

jellyneo, the premier neopets website, has recorded prices of some items plummeting from 2,000,000 neopoints to 4,000 neopoints IN THE LAST THREE HOURS. this is when most people haven't even heard about the event or OPENED THEIR BAGS YET.

and of course. cherry on top. 20-year-old account holders are crytyping on the site events neoboard about how mean and cruel it is to make rare stamps part of the prize pool, because their entire identity hinges on being part of the neopian bourgeoisie, and they are having MELTDOWNS over their assets being devalued until they're part of the lowly proletariat.

this is a children's game for children btw.

none of the money is real.

i'm having such a good time.

[vaguely-human-man]

Idk who needs to hear this but take that early transition girl out. Dress her up all pretty and assure her that anyone who dares to say a negative word will have to contend with you. Do her makeup and gently talk her through the steps, do one eye for her and let her try the other one on her own. Kiss her lips and watch the way she grins like a maniac at the imprint that her black lipstick leaves behind. Take her out to the movies or to the mall, walk around and buy her a pair of good boots without letting her look at the price tag, watch the way she smiles shyly and swoons even while insisting she doesn't need them. Tell her 'My love. You loved them instantly and they had your size- it's fate, they're meant to be yours,' and then help her sit down in one of the mall chairs to put them on, watch the way she prances around in them like an excited little girl.

Hold her hand and talk to the lady at Rue 21 for her because you know she's insecure about her voice. Go in the dressing room with her and gently help her into the skirt she was eyeing- one foot, a second, shimmy, shimmy, up- followed by a wonderfully soft sweater that falls just right over her frame. Hug her from behind while she looks in the mirror and feels beautiful, basking in her euphoria. Whisper into her ear how proud you are of her- how brave she is, how beautiful, how honored you are to be able to share this journey with her.

Take her to dinner and kiss her while you wait for your food, run your hands down her freshly shaven arms and gently caress over the back of her neck. Offer her some of your ramen while you take a bite of her fried rice, and clumsily attempt to feed her a bite of sushi with some chopsticks.

And then. Take her home, with all the bags that now hold the beginnings of her new wardrobe, and help her hang them up, try them on. Let her have a fashion show and gently wipe her makeup off before sleep. Kiss her and caress her and shower her with affection, with praise and love and adoration. Let her melt into your arms and if she cries let the tears soak into your shirt. Gently caress her hair and say 'its okay, baby girl. I love making you feel beautiful,'

Or something, idk.

[anna-scribbles]

old doodles from the archives 🫶

[akanemnon]

Family game night

[magicicephoenix]

i finally finished reading I see you, Sundrop! by @shirajellyfish and IT'S SO GOOD I CAN'T BELIEVE IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO FINISH IT RAAAAAAA

i will be gushing about it in the tags but here's a lil animation i made based on the below paragraph in chapter 6 that gave me such a strong mental image that i had to make it real :)

[hinamie]

unconditionally

[magnusbae]

To illustrate this post by @mayahawkse I would like to visualize to you the difference:

A post in 2023:

A post in 2014:

A zoom out of the same post:

This is what a community looks like.

See how in 2023 almost all of the reblogs come from the OP, from their few hours/days in the tag search. Meanwhile in 2014 the % of reblogs from OP is insignificant, because most of the reblogs come from the reblogs within the fandom, within the micro-communities formed there. You didn't need to rely on tags, or search, or being featured. Because the community took care of you, made sure to pass the work between themselves and onto their blog and exposed their followers to it. It kept works alive for years.

It's not JUST the reblog/like ratio that causing this issue, it's the type of interaction people have. They're content with scrolling and liking the search engine, instead of actually having a reblogging relationship with other blogs in their community.

Anyways, if you want to see more content you like, the only true way to make it happen is to reblog it. Likes do not forward content in no way but making OP feel nice. Reblogs on the other hand make content eternal. They make it relevant, they make it exist outside of a fickle tumblr search that hardly works on the best of days.

If you want more of something, reblog it.

[heartswithinreach]

your post about sylus essentially conditioning the reader to sit on his lap hasjsakddf that was so perfect and in character 😭 i love it sm its given me so much brain rot - how bout this:

can i request the lads boys reaction to the reader randomly asking to be carried/picked up in the middle of walking? for no other reason just to see how'd they react lol

LaDS casually carrying MC

Xavier

The most casual. He just smiles at you and asks, "Bridal or piggyback?" in the same tone as if he's asking what you want to eat.

And he's not just playing along. He means it. He wants to be the one you lean on — metaphorically and literally.

You can try and backtrack but then you'll get those eyes. The bluest puppy dog eyes that can break the strongest of wills. "Are you sure? We still have a few blocks to go to the café, I don’t want you to get tired..."

You feel like you're holding out on him by not letting him carry you. The mind tricks this man is capable of to get what he wants are ridiculous.

You fold embarrassingly fast and Xavier is happy as can be with you on his back, your arms and legs around him like a full-body embrace. He can see the tactical advantage to carrying you like this during missions, too.

Rafayel

"You want me to carry you?“ Rafayel scoffs. “What if I pulled a muscle in my arm and couldn't draw for a week? No thank you!"

He refuses until you ask if it's not that he doesn't want to carry you, but that he can't.

Now you've wounded his pride. He might not be the God of the Sea anymore, but he can't let this go unanswered! Rafayel will be on you relentlessly to let him pick you up, no matter how long it takes.

"Whoa, be careful, cutie! There's no telling how deep these puddles are from all the rain — you're super lucky your boyfriend is here to carry you to safety."

When you finally break and let him do it just so he can prove a point, he realizes he likes this way more than he thought he would. You're like his adorable little prisoner and the only way you're getting out is in praise and smooches. This will become a regular thing, I fear.

Zayne

“I told you to wear more comfortable shoes.”

Zayne inwardly grins at how quickly you deflate at his blunt response. It's adorable.

But Zayne has a hard time denying you something so innocent as wanting to be close to him. So he guides your arm to wrap around his shoulders and picks you up with a strength that always takes you by surprise.

He waits for you to settle comfortably in his arms before he starts walking. He's aware of the disapproving stares from the people around you and not too long ago, he would've been one of them. How quickly his perspective has changed because of you.

Zayne is brought out of his thoughts when he feels you peck his cheek and now you get that oh so familiar look of gentle reproach from him. "I am working on being more affectionate but I'm not there yet, MC. Now, behave or your ride will end early."

Sylus

Sylus is so caught off guard that, for once, you can see his entire thought process play out through his expressions.

Surprise at your request, suspicion you're just toying with him, the realization you're being somewhat serious, and then the most gratified look you've ever seen on his stupid smug face.

Now you’re speaking his language. So delighted you’re finally catching on, he just picks you up and continues on his way without breaking his stride.

However, you didn't specify how he should carry you. So you're draped over Sylus's shoulder and to keep you there, his hand is dangerously high up on your thigh for being in public. The smack on your ass is so inevitable, you can feel it like it's already happened.

"You just said you were tired, now you want me to put you down? You need to learn to make up your mind, kitten. I'll just carry you until you're sure of what you want."

[hhhhunty]

How funny that she never considered that.

[bluerosefox]

Always Favors You

Another Sibling Danny and Jason idea!!

"Are you Jason Peter Todd?!" demanded a deep and commanding tone from the strange glowing being in front of them.

All the Bats stiffened and tensed, no doubt gearing up for a fight against the being that somehow knew Red Hood's full name.

Jason, Red Hood, decided to put on a brave front despite no doubt cursing in his head and wondering how the heck did this thing know his full freaking name.

"Whose asking." he snarled out, his hands twitching for his gun when the huge glowing knight with purple flames coming out of his helmet and cape, who was riding on a nightmare looking horse while they all had been in the cave going over tonight's patrol.

The Knight didn't seemed bothered by his response nor did he even seem to care or flinch when Batman made his own demand on 'Why was he there and who was he' or when Damian unsheathed his sword and pointed it towards him. Instead the strange glowing Knight reached to it side and pulled out... A glowing scroll? Huh. (Also he completely unnerved everyone in the room when the Knight didn't even react when Batman had tossed a Baterang when he reached for his side)

The Knight opened the scroll and spoke clearly with purpose.

"Jason Peter Todd,

You are hereby invited as a special guest of honor to the crowning of our future King of the Infinite Realms.

Daniel Phantom, once Daniel Jackson Fenton, and once Daniel Austen Todd.

Prince of the Infinite Realms, the Keeper of Balance, The Peacekeeping Halfa, the Defeater of the Tyrant King Pariah Dark, The Great One, Youngest of the Ancients, Ancient of Space, The Bridge between Life and Death.

You, the half-brother of our King, have been given the highest of honors for your past actions and will be given housing and food in the Realms and Phantom's Keep, for the week long event. Personal servants and attendants will be at your disposal and a seamstress will be on hand to tailor make your attire for the Coronation.

Signed: Clockwork. Ancient of Time. Watcher of the Infinite Timeline. Kronos. Mentor and Adviser.

PS: I shall have Fright Knight ("Me" the Knight bluntly said for a second) leave this scroll along with a personal one for you from Daniel to read over and once you make up your mind sign the bottom of the scroll.

I do hope in time you will pick the right choice Jason Todd, we of the Infinite Realms would like to reward you for your actions. After all, if you hadn't gotten young Daniel away from your father that night all those years ago, we would never had gained our Prince nor be free from our once Tyrant King.

Ah, one more thing.

The Infinite Realms will always favor you Jason."

Jason felt like he couldn't breath as Fright Knight? Rolled up the scroll, pulled a letter from his side, and held out the two items for him to take.

[decaffeinatedpartymuggoop]

My favorite thing about Annabeth is her wardrobe.

Cause like, Rick simplifies her clothes in a way a man would, and you can tell.

Cause in EVERY book, from The Lightning Thief to Chalice, she’s in the goddamn CHB shirt. With like some shorts or cargo pants. Nothing more, nothing less.

He’s made improvements over the years, giving her some other clothes. But he’ll always come back to old faithful.

Like, he most definitely did it on accident, but he made her so Adam Sandler and I love it

[pixlatedvampire]

It’s best to introduce your Hag slowly through the door first to not scare the others

[gojoest]

to say satoru is just clingy would be quite wrong actually.

“give me a kiss”, he pleads, voice soft, and eyes even softer. tenderness seeping from them as he looks at you, his gaze slowly shifting from your eyes to your lips in anticipation.

“i just gave you one”, you push a finger against his puckered lips.

“that was a long time ago, give me another”, he rolls closer to you. his body now completely on your side of the bed and his head on your pillow.

he throws an arm over you, his hand reaching at your back to pull you in until you’re squished chest to chest.

“that was three seconds ago”, you correct him.

“come on, my delicate. give me my air. or else i’ll suffocate and die”

“mmm? i am your air?”

“yes, you are”, he nods his head and puckers his lips again, waiting.

you kiss him softly. almost through a chuckle at his words at first, until his soft pink lips melt your sounds into a low hum. his hand trailing up from your back to your hair, fingers dancing like a tender rain on your scalp.

when you pull your face away, you drag a needy moan out of him along with it. almost like he’s out of air again.

“another one”, his breath shallow. “give me another”

to say he’s just clingy would be wrong. he’s just a human, so in love, who can’t hold his breath for too long.