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pullupinarari · 2 days ago

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I feel so cold without you [LH]

summary: Lewis' schedule has been crazy, and he can't spend much time at home. but little Grace doesn't understand why.

author's note: I am still struggling with a writer's block so I'm so sorry cause this is honestly so bad and makes no sense, but I'm trying to get my creativity flowing again so pls bear with me. this is angsty but doesn't have a destructive ending. also barely proofread

• masterlist

wc: 5531 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated

Everybody knows that Lewis’ life involves traveling a lot, to different countries, continents, all the time - that’s not new to anyone. You met him in this reality, married him with this crazy agenda, and Grace was born in the middle of what you consider to be ‘normal’ for your life beside your husband.

As a couple, you always managed to deal with the schedules, the work trips, the races abroad. As a family, you learned how to juggle being a mum and a wife to a F1 driver, with your own work responsibilities, teaching little Grace the best you can all about why her dad has to be away so much.

When Lewis is away for a little time, your daughter understands it. She sees her daddy racing on the television, she chants his name as if she was there in person - she knows her dad is doing what he is best at, besides being the bestest daddy ever to her.

But Grace is very, very attached to Lewis, in the exact same way that Lewis is extremely attached to his princess, and they can’t stay away from each other for long. The problem is, for the past couple of weeks, your husband hasn’t been home.

Lewis was in Italy, preparing everything at Ferrari, and setting everything up for the day you and Grace will meet him there, at the new place that you will call ‘home’ for this new period of your life. Then, the driver had to fly with the team to Spain, to prepare for the pre-season. So, his schedule has been incredibly tight, leaving him with no chance of flying back to London, to his girls’ arms, even for just a night.

As the weeks pass by, your daughter starts growing confused. Daddy isn’t racing on the telly, he isn’t home to play with her, so the toddler could show him how she is feeling more confident to ride her pink bike, and the only time she sees him is through a video call that he does when calling you at the end of the day.

So, why is daddy not home to tuck Gracie into bed every night? To give her the special forehead kisses that only he knows how to do, the ones that would scare away all the monsters?

Inside the three-year-old’s brain, everything made more sense while she could see him driving his car on the television, listening to him talking on the interviews following the race, knowing for a fact that her daddy is working. And, as much as you keep telling the toddler that dad is at work, where is he working? Why can’t Grace watch him on the television now? And why can’t he come home?

It’s been too long - you know. You admit it too. But you can’t say that to your baby’s face, adding more to the exasperation living inside her confused mind. It’s already heartbreaking enough to see your daughter’s eyes growing sadder by the day, noticing how she grows quieter through the week, seeing the disappointment plastered all over her face every time you have to say ‘no’ whenever she asks ‘is daddy coming home today?’

The salty tears painting the toddler’s features when she begs her daddy to come home over the phone are enough to make yours and Lewis’ hearts sting with an indescribable pain - one that seems to never cease, no matter how hard you try to nestle her close to your chest, trying your hardest to shush her fears and insecurities, making her feel protected in the first home she ever knew - your skin.

- You don’t love me anymore, daddy? - Grace blurts out in between sobs, her little voice sounding muffled against your skin as she hides her face on the crook of your neck.

The words leaving her mouth were enough to make Lewis’ heart sink, making sure that question will forever be engraved in his mind, not letting him forget about this moment, about the hurt in his princess’ voice when wondering why he is not home with her.

The man is left speechless for a minute, feeling a bunch of hot tears threatening to spill from his eyes as well. It has, definitely, been too long since he got to have a moment just for his family, dedicating all his hours to his favourite girls.

He knows exactly how Grace is feeling, because Lewis feels the exact same void fulfilling his days, desperate to have some free time so he can go back home as soon as possible. But unfortunately, everything has been too much, lately, and the driver’s schedule is not giving him a break.

- Daddy loves you more than anything else in this world, princess, you know that… - Lewis’ trembling voice cuts his phrase short, swallowing the knot that’s stuck in the man’s throat as his daughter continues weeping on the other side of the line. - Then come home! I miss you so much, daddy - Grace insists, her sobs growing louder as the little girl tries to understand why her dad can’t be by her side, right now.

He wishes he could. Lewis feels every bone in his body frail at night, when he lays his head on the pillow and opens his camera roll, going back to every picture and video that reminds him of some moments when he genuinely felt happy and at peace - with Grace in his arms, with you by his side.

Tonight, some silent tears are finally freed from his eyes, looking at all the pictures of his child in his phone, while his brain is still replaying the toddler’s harsh question that she let out over the call earlier today.

Lewis feels this moment completely wrecking him, especially when he stops to think about all the videos you send him while he is away, updating him on every new achievement and discovery your daughter makes during the days, trying your best so your husband won’t feel like he is missing too much.

But he is. And he knows it - especially when he realizes how fast time passes by, how tomorrow isn’t guaranteed for anyone. How does he know that tomorrow is coming? Your husband keeps waiting for it, hoping that a break will eventually arrive so he can go home, but he shouldn’t suppose that tomorrow is coming, because nothing in this world can assure him that there will be one. And that thought kills him, because while he is thinking about it, he realizes that it’s been five weeks since the last time he got to be home, tucking his daughter to bed.

The excited, bubbly Grace you know has been missing lately, leaving room for a sad and confused toddler to show up in her place - one that holds tighter to you when you hug her, when you’re holding her in your arms, kissing her curls as her lips just show you a downhearted pout.

As your child grows up, she finds new challenges in life, and dealing with new emotions definitely is one of them - and missing her daddy this much has been leading to a rollercoaster of questions to erupt in your baby’s creative mind. You tuck her into bed, but it’s not the same thing. Your kisses are sweet and protective, but they are not Lewis’ cuddles that make sure to create a shield around the little princess, making sure no monsters can reach her.

Your days have been hard as well, trying your best to deal with Grace’s doubts and tantrums, hushing her as you assure her that you are right there for her, informing her that her daddy will be by the girl’s side in no time. But, in the silent darkness of the night, heavy sighs escape your figure as well, loud noises of concern erupt in your mind, questioning if you are doing a good job, if you’re being a good mum, if you’re supporting your husband the right way. But, sometimes, you also ask yourself: where do you stand, in the middle of all this?

The arms that hold Grace are the same ones that hold Lewis when he needs it the most, you being the pillar of your family, holding everything in place when a storm threatens to push your boat away from safe land. Either way, you know better than to complain, understanding how this entire situation is hard for your husband as well, sharing the same pain and apprehension when you talk to him over the phone.

Feeling restless from so many sleepless nights, being haunted by the infinite thoughts running through his brain, the man finally managed to get a free day - just 24 hours, but enough for him to fly back home, accepting the short break if that means he can hold the light of his life in his arms for a bit, shushing away all the small weeps that leave the toddler’s figure.

Arriving early in the morning, you are already waiting to see your husband walking through the door, with a cup of warm tea in your hand. You can’t deny that there’s a small glimpse of nervousness bubbling inside of your stomach, at the thought of finally seeing him again, praying that his presence will lighten up the mood and help your daughter feel better.

You’re sipping on your tea when you hear the front door open. Shortly after, his shadow appears on the kitchen’s tiles, mere seconds before the man himself is in front of you - the shine in his eyes, the relieved smile cracking through his tired features is noticeable, as he immediately walks over to you.

Once your figures meet, Lewis wraps his arms around your figure, holding you close without saying a word, sharing a deep, tight hug while kissing your shoulder lovingly from time to time. There’s a heavy sigh leaving his body, as if being home is the magic solution that helps improve all his problems, taking a huge weight off his shoulders.

His face is glued to the crook of your neck for a while, as your fingers reach to caress his scalp. It feels like time has stopped, as if the world is not spinning anymore. Both of you are merged in a bubble of comfort and reassurance, almost making up for all the stress and agony that your parental hearts have been feeling lately.

When your lips finally connect again - after so long, a deafening silence is created between your bodies, as if your kisses speak for the two of you. I miss you, I need you, things have been so hard without you by my side. Both of you feel the same, both of you know how hard the past weeks have been for your family.

Breaking the kiss, your foreheads are still glued, the tips of your noses touching, wanting to feel the other as close as possible.

- She’s still asleep? - your husband breaks the silence, asking about Grace. He has very little time to stay, and he wants to enjoy every second by his daughter’s side. Still, the man can’t help but bite his own tongue as he looks at the time: it’s 7:24 am, and he knows that his baby usually doesn’t wake up that early.

He earns a nod from you. The little girl hasn’t had nice nights of sleep lately either, constantly waking up after having bad dreams, always begging you to cuddle her to sleep, to let her sleep by your side. To tell the truth, your heart softens every time that your daughter asks to sleep with you, loving how she helps you fight Lewis’ absence as well, you two cuddling each other so you don’t feel so alone without his bright, powerful presence around.

- She’s on your side of the bed, though - you inform him. Last night wasn’t any different. Another nightmare, another cuddle session in your bed before the toddler falls asleep again.

Lewis furrows his eyebrows at your words for a second, before remembering that you had already told him all about how Grace has been having more bad dreams than usual, especially since she started feeling so down, constantly asking if her dad doesn’t want to be around her anymore.

Again, a deep sigh leaves his lips, filling the air surrounding you. The memories of everything that his daughter has been saying, make an incredibly heavy weight to form on his shoulders, hating how he has to stay away for work so much, how he hasn’t been able to give his princess all the attention she needs and deserves.

Trying to shrug those thoughts away, the man serves himself a cup of coffee before reaching for your hand, guiding you to lay on the sofa with him, wanting to enjoy this day to the fullest - starting with a cuddle session with his wife, until it’s time for Grace to wake up.

Having your husband’s arms wrapped around you again almost feels like a dream. Something that has felt so distant for the past weeks, that you were craving and needing so much. And now, you finally have him all to yourself, and as you rest your head on his chest, a comfortable silence strings your bodies along. No one dares to say a word, just focusing on how each other’s touch feels light yet soothing against the other’s skin, leaving kisses here and there, hugging tighter and closer.

In the back of your head, there’s a small assumption that keeps itching you. As much as you want to believe that he is home to stay - at least for a week or so, unfortunately, you noticed how small is the bag that he brought with him when he arrived. An incredibly small one, the type that Lewis only uses when he is only away for a weekend or so. So, as much as you want to make the most of this, the cuddles, his presence, you know it’s something that it won’t last.

It’s like Lewis can feel the tension that slowly creeps on your muscles the more you think about it, his hands rubbing your back to try and calm you down, showing that he is here, right by your side, trying to take your mind off of whatever is bothering you.

But in reality, he too has been obsessively thinking about the time passing by, how he needs to leave again in the middle of the night, not even being able to sleep beside his wife for an entire night - wanting nothing more than to cuddle you and Grace to sleep in his chest, protecting the loves of his life. But he can’t. Not tonight. And he knows that he hasn’t told you about it yet, but it’s like he can’t find the courage in his body to do it, to drop the bomb in your face, to ruin the moment you’re having right now. So he decides to keep it to himself, for now.

8:47 am, you and your husband are climbing up the stairs to your shared bedroom, where your daughter is still sleeping. Opening the door to her tiny figure wrapped in the sheets, her curls all over his pillow, truly is the sight that the man didn’t know he needed to heal every wound in his heart.

Lewis doesn’t even hold back, his body moving on its own as he sits at the end of the bed, on his side of the mattress that now apparently belongs to Grace, so he can have a better view of his baby’s features.

She looks gorgeous as ever, the most beautiful and precious thing that Lewis has ever laid his eyes on, the most important thing in the driver’s life, the owner of his entire heart, without a doubt. Some small tears tingle in his eyes as his fingers gently caress the toddler’s cheek, slowly nudging her so the girl can wake up.

- Princess - he calls quietly, before landing a small kiss on his child’s hand. - Time to wake up.

Slowly opening her eyes, the little girl rubs her features as she wakes up from her slumber. Her gaze immediately is glued to the figure in front of her, almost as if she is trying to make sense of reality, questioning if she is still dreaming.

- Daddy? - Grace whispers, before some tears appear in her eyes as Lewis nods at her question, getting close so he can hold her small body close to him.

Small cries escape the toddler’s figure, as she immediately wraps her arms around her dad’s neck, using all her strength to not let him go, scared that he might leave again if she breaks the hug.

Lewis can’t even describe the feeling washing over him as he can finally hold his daughter safely in his arms, noticing the scent of her baby shampoo, how her skin still holds his favourite smell ever. He can only take deep breaths, kissing the top of Grace’s head countless times, trying to calm himself down so as to not break down crying while holding his baby.

It’s an emotional sight, even for you , now that you are watching your two favourite people reunite, feeling your heart beating stronger in your chest, as if it’s being refilled with love again, after so many insecurities pooling over your head lately.

And your daughter’s cries quickly turn into an excited gasp that leaves her lips, forgetting about all the sadness that she was carrying lately - now being substituted by happiness, the genuine type, from having her father near her again.

Soon enough, the toddler is jumping on the mattress, giggling loud as she celebrates the fact that daddy is home again, and now he can have tea parties with her, she can show him how she has mastered all the techniques he has taught her about riding her pink bike, watch her favourite cartoons with her on the sofa, and do everything that the girl has been wanting to do with him while he was away.

Lewis giggles for a moment, before feeling a weight sinking in his chest again, remembering how he can’t do any of that with his princess, because he will leave again in a few hours.

- Daddy! Can we go see the cute ducks at the lake tomorrow? Mummy took me there the other day, and there are little ones now! You need to see them, they are sooo cute!! - Her excited tone, mixed with the puppy eyes that she is giving him, are enough to break the man’s heart. And he knows that his next words are about to break his daughter’s heart as well.

Sighing, he tries his hardest to find the right words to say it, but it’s like his brain just forgot every single one of them.

- Daddy can’t make it tomorrow, love. - the little girl furrows her eyebrows, not really understanding what her dad is trying to say. - Are you tired from the trip back home, daddy? It’s okay, we can go the day after tomorrow. We can just stay home and have a tea party instead? - her cute smile is just making everything hurt even more for him. - Bubs, daddy is only home for today. I have a day off work and came back to see you and mummy, but I have to leave again after you go to sleep tonight. - there it is, the words that he didn’t want to say, and the ones that no one in the room wanted to hear.

Your head hangs low as you hear it. Deep down, you already knew it. You knew it, as soon as you saw the bag that clearly showed that he wasn’t going to stay for long, when neither of you wanted to talk about the day he had to leave you two again. And now, you know why.

His words hit Grace like a million bricks, the poor little girl being met with reality once again as she tries her best to hold back the tears that still slide down her cheeks.

- You don’t love me anymore! You don’t want to spend time with me anymore! - the toddler screams before running away from her dad, hiding in between the four safe, pink walls of her room.

And again, Lewis is met with his daughter’s harsh words, that are enough to tear his entire world apart. He gets up from the bed, wanting to go meet his child again, only to be stopped by your hand, touching his chest in a silent ‘don’t’. He too can see the disappointment evident in your eyes before you break eye contact, turning your back on him as you go to your daughter’s room.

Your husband sits on the edge of the bed again, his head in his hands as he rethinks every small decision that he has ever made, questioning why his schedule has to be so chaotic, why life can’t ease up on him a little more, so he can have some more time for his family. At this point, he doesn’t know what he can do to be better, to make things right, to make it easier for everybody, knowing for a fact that he has, above all, been failing his family lately: failing you as a husband, failing Grace as her father.

Opening the door of your shared bedroom a little bit, he can hear his baby’s loud cries again, as you hold her close in your chest, trying your best to calm her down again - something that has become a part of your routine already. And the sounds, the mental picture of what’s happening behind Grace’s bedroom door is enough to break him, to make some tears fall from his eyes as well as he clenches his fist, absolutely hating this entire situation, cursing himself from having to leave his family so soon.

Grace doesn’t know how to deal with these new emotions that have been erupting through her small figure lately. All she knows is that she is sad, very sad. And very confused with her dad’s agenda, not understanding why this is making her chest hurt, only making her cry out more, feeling scared with the discomfort that these newfound emotions provide her.

Tired of hearing his princess cry while staying still in his bedroom without doing anything to help or to make it better, Lewis decides to step up, gaining the courage to walk to the toddler’s room.

Knocking on the door gently, he hopes to be met with a ‘come in’. But instead, he is met with a loud ‘I don’t want to see you!’ coming from his daughter’s mouth, hearing how you reprimand her due to the attitude she is giving him, now. There’s a desperate sigh escaping Lewis’ lips now, but still, he decides to ignore Grace’s words, walking inside the room.

Once he does, the toddler immediately hides her face in your chest again, trying her best not to look at her dad’s face, keeping her words.

- Grace, please look at me - Lewis asks her with a serious tone, crouching down so he is eye leveled with the kid. But still, all he gets in return is silence, and the girl only hides her face further into the crook of your neck.

Rubbing his features with his hands almost desperately, he looks up at you, giving you a pleading glance, needing your help with this - begging you to forget about how sad and disappointed you are feeling at him now as well, so you can help him solve this problem with your daughter now.

With a tired sigh, you give in.

- Grace, look at your father - you say. Still, nothing. You know she is as stubborn as you are, but you absolutely hate when she is acting up this way. - Grace. - you say more sternly, catching the girl’s attention as she slowly turns to look at him, now.

Once Lewis’ eyes meet his child’s again, the pain in both of their chests connects, feeling it in the exact same intensity. Taking in the sight of his daughter’s tear stained face is the worst part of it all.

- Bubs, please listen to daddy carefully. - he starts speaking, feeling his voice cracking a bit, laced with the million different emotions surrounding his body as well. - You know how you and mummy are going to move to the new house that daddy got in Italy, right baby? I even showed you pictures of your new room and everything - he asks Grace, trying to give her a calm, light tone. The girl nods her head, not really in the mood to talk now. - So, daddy needs to go because I am preparing everything so you can move there as fast as possible love, so we can spend every day together again. - the thought of having his family next to him all day, every day again, makes a small smile appear in the man’s face. - But you are never home anymore. You can leave that house and come here! And you don’t want to play with me anymore. - the toddler finally speaks up, finding a perfectly reasonable solution for the problem.

Lewis tries to get closer to the little girl, his fingers gently touching her small hand, hoping she will give in a bit, so she can better understand what’s going on and hug him again in no time.

- Princess, my favourite thing in this world is to play with you. Tea parties, riding our bikes, you painting my nails, watching ducks at the lake, you name it. My favourite time in this world is the time I get to spend by your side - he admits, being completely transparent as he looks right into the toddler’s eyes. - You know daddy loves you more than anything in this entire world, bubs.

The three-year-old slowly nods her head ‘yes’. She does know that her dad loves her more than anything, but she is still hurt.

- I promise everything will get easier, princess. I’m doing everything I can so we can be together everyday again really, really fast, okay? Please forgive me, my love. Daddy never wanted to hurt you - landing a small kiss on her cheek, his hands caress her hair as the little girl moves in your lap, stretching her small arms to hug her daddy.

And once Lewis is able to hold his princess in his arms again, everything feels a bit more right, as if the toddler has the power to glue the pieces of his heart together. The only things that can be heard in the room are muffled ‘I love you, bubs’, ‘I love you so much’, that Lewis keeps whispering to his daughter, to which Grace quietly replies ‘I love you too, daddy’.

Today, there were no tea parties, the kid didn’t paint her dad’s nails, they didn’t go to see the ducks at the lake. Instead, they ate the toddler’s favourite breakfast together, at home, and decided to just spend the entire day cuddling on the sofa, enjoying the time together as a family, playing some small games, singing songs, dancing in the middle of the living room, to an extent that loud giggles would erupt through the walls.

After dinner, the air grows heavy again, as the three of you know that the day

is coming to an end, and that Lewis won’t be home again once you and your daughter wake up.

The man carries Grace safely in his arms, her tiny limbs strongly wrapped around his neck as well, as they reach the toddler’s bedroom. Now, you decided to let them have this moment to themselves, waiting downstairs for your husband to come back.

Tucking his princess in bed as he usually does, the biggest kiss lands on the little girl’s forehead, ready to scare all monsters away, so she can have the most peaceful of sleeps, with the sweetest of dreams.

- Have a nice night of sleep, my love - Lewis says, trying not to show how this goodbye is killing him, playing it off with a smile.

However, he notices the kid’s big chocolate eyes looking up at him attentively.

- Please come back fast, daddy. I feel so cold without you here. And mummy misses you too - the toddler whispers, almost on the verge of crying again.

Lewis needs to swallow the lump forming in his throat again, staying silent for a second as he takes in his daughter’s words.

- I promise I’ll be fast, bubs. You’ll be in your new room, in our new house, in no time. I promise - he shows her his pinky finger, knowing how serious Gracie takes pinky promises.

The fact that her daddy is pinky promising her that they will be together again soon, makes a sparkle appear in the girl’s eyes, as she wraps her own pinky around his.

- I love you so, so much, princess. More than anything in this world. Never doubt that - he insists, kissing her forehead again before giving her another bear hug. - I love you too, daddy. And please make sure that my new bedroom has the right shade of pink in the walls - the three-year-old jokes, lightening the mood as her dad gets up from her bed. - I will, baby. I will - he giggles lightly, before blowing one last kiss to his biggest reason to live, closing the door behind him.

Lewis takes a moment before coming downstairs again, wiping away some of the tears that escaped his eyes. Saying goodbye to little Gracie is always the hardest, and definitely the worst part.

Finally meeting you in the living room, the man completely breaks down as you engulf him in your arms, noticing how much of a wreck he is. You let him cry in your arms, staying silent as he apologizes over and over again to you. For not being home as much, for not having many days off of work, for failing you when you need him the most.

At this moment, he starts thinking that maybe you were right all along. He should have slowed down already, he should have left F1 behind, dedicating himself to his other projects and especially to his family, which needs him so much. But he couldn’t say no to the opportunity of joining Ferrari, putting his dreams in front of everything else.

This might only be temporary, until you and Grace finally meet him in Italy, but you are sure that you can’t keep up doing this for much longer, now.

- Things can’t continue like this, Lewis - you tell him, hot tears sliding down your cheeks as well, now. - I know, love. I know. I’m sorry, I promise I’ll make everything right. In a blink of an eye, the three of us will be together in our new home, baby. Please, just be a little more patient with me - he begs, his arms wrapping tighter around your silhouette as he voices his pleads.

You sigh. You know you will end up giving in, but you can only take so much, and now, there’s not a day that you aren’t concerned about the future of your family.

- Just don’t let this sport break you, baby. Don’t let them take you from us. We need you so, so much - you confess, seeing Lewis nod as his tears match yours, holding you in his chest as you mourn the time you had for each other.

Before he has to leave, he makes sure to cuddle you extra close in bed, your words echoing in his mind to the point where he feels like he could drown in them, dying in your arms as you fall into a peaceful sleep in his chest, almost as if he will still be by your side once you wake up.

But you know he will leave during the night. And so, while you have the privilege to fall asleep in his chest, you trick your mind to dream about him, so you can have him twice, making sure that, one way or another, he will still be with you once you wake up in the morning.

In your absence, everything is suspended for Lewis. Your husband is so addicted to seeing you, that he just daydreams about your figure being right by his side, inventing you everywhere, feeding the void that the distance insists in creating between him and his family.

He hates it, he really does. But unfortunately, there’s nothing he can do right now. He wishes he could make a call and cancel all his responsibilities for the rest of the week, spending all day by his girls’ side. But he can’t. And right now, he can only pray for you to be even more patient, until the day you are together again, in your new house.

Tucking you in bed with a forehead kiss, the man leaves your shared room, feeling all the weight coming back to his shoulders as he picks up his bag, leaving his happiness behind as he travels back to his job, leaving his heart behind, in his home in the human shapes of you and Gracie, wanting to be right where his family is.

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cosmosluckycharms · 3 days ago

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Bug like angel

pt2

Girl Afraid

May 12, XXXX

4:45 AM

"Shit," you think to yourself as you realize you're going to be late for school

Yes, your school usually doesn't start till 7 AM, but you have a field trip today, and the bus leaves at 5:30 AM.

"Ms.Rose is gonna kill me if I'm late again! Where did I put my bag? Where are my earbuds?" you whisper to no one in particular

You had a million thoughts running in your head, but one thing was sure, you were so late.

You still had to grab your phone, eat breakfast, put on your clothes, do your hair and makeup on the bus, and run towards the bus and then maybe you can make it in time.

You rush downstairs to get breakfast and realize you don't have to be as quiet because it's empty in the kitchen.

You quickly eat breakfast and finish your morning routine before making it out the door.

It's 5:43 when you make it onto the bus, Ms. Rose was waiting on you and thankfully didn't you much of a hard time.

"Ms.y/n, please be more considerate of others time next time."You sat down next to your "friends"

You don't fully consider them your friends, they're too full of themselves and you all know none of you guys are friends, just close acquaintances.

After finishing the coffee you brought onto the bus ride, doing your hair and makeup, and taking a quick nap while listening to music, you finally made it.

Alchemax.

You were excited for the trip, even asking Dick, Jason, and Bruce if they wanted to tag along as chaperones.

They said no, which you both understood and were also sad about but, whatever, who cares? Anyways- you're at the coolest place!

It's perfect for someone who wants an internship that would look great on your resume.

Why do you want that resume? You don't know. Maybe it's so you can impress your family? You aren't fully sure.

Before you question yourself further, you get off the bus, along with your schoolmates.

You hear them all chatting about whatever, but it's clear to everyone that you are the most excited to go on this trip.

You, who wouldn't shut up about it despite everyone at school and home telling you to. You, who kept bouncing off walls while talking about it. You, who constantly wrote about it in journals.

Nothing could stop your excitement, and that was clear to others.

While you were there, you were practically the only one participating.

The only one wasnt scared to ask questions.

The one that would ask questions for others who wouldn't.

You were sure that this was the best trip of your life! You were so interested in everything!

It wasn't until later in the day after you got home at 7:56 that you saw everyone in the dining room sitting together eating, like usual, without you.

Every time you saw them together your heart broke a little more.

You tried to not make a scene and just walk away quietly, and it worked!

With everyone but Alfred.

"And where have you been, young miss?" He asked in an authoritary tone.

"I've been on a field trip in Alchemax! I just got back! It was soo fun, why?" you asked, knowing what he was going to ask.

"Wouldn't you like to have dinner with the others?" it's clear he just wanted the others to notice you, he knew you've tried so hard to be with them.

"it's alright, Alfred. I grabbed lunch with my friends earlier, I'm still full!" you said enthusiastically. It wasnt a lie, afterwards you all went to your favorite fast food place, batburger. You're sure theres no better fast food place than batburger.

"Oh, that's quite alright then." as soon as he said that you went upstairs to get unready and unpack for the day. you didnt notice Jasons slight dissapointment on his face when you refused and walked away.

It's good that it was a Friday, you could rest tomorrow.

You didn't notice how you accidentally took Project 111 with you. Mustve sneaken in your bag while you went to the bathroom while at Alchemax.

It took you a while to open your bag due to you getting ready for bed, and you screamed when you saw a spider in your bag and crawling onto your hand.

"FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK STOP CRAWLING ON ME LEAVE ME ALONE WHERE DID YOU COME FROM GO AWAY!" the stupid spider kept crawling on you.

It's honestly suprising no one heard you scream. Either that or they didnt care.You didnt know what to do. You hate spiders.

It took you minute or two of just flailing before actually doing something.You tried to reach for your nearest hairbrush to hit the spider with, only to accidentally hit yourself anywhere but where the spider was. Thats gonna leave a mark.

The spider, project 111, ended up biting you on the wrist. You ended up killing it with your hairspray.

You started panicking on whether you would die or not, you may have cried a little before realizing you were being a tad bit dramatic.

You realized the spider didn't look like the venomous ones you researched online while trying to find common ground with Damian back when he was new

So you decide to keep this to yourself, a nice little secret.

3:37 AM

You woke up sweating, panicking, hot, cold, tired, wide awake, hungry, full, thirsty, not thirsty.

You didn't know what was happening.

You forced yourself to fall back asleep.

it's around 12 PM when you wake up again.

You hope it was just a weird nightmare.

You realize you woke up late to breakfast, which was usually at 9:30 for you, so on your desk was some cold breakfast Alfred left for you.

While eating it, you thought about what happened.

Was it a dream? Was it a sign? Were you high?

You start walking in circles trying to figure out what it could all mean...it took you a while to realize you were literally upside down on your ceiling.

Oops?

Before you processed it, you panicked.Why are you on the ceiling? Why were you walking on walls? How were you walking on walls?

So many questions. No one to answer them.

After a bit of panicking and running around making a mess, you realize you sort of have powers.

You could stick to walls, that was one.You could make webs, thats two. You could be a hero, like the others!

At first, you find it so cool!

..then you realized your father doesn't want metas in Gotham...

You decide to keep this to yourself, for now at least.

oml this is so short oops guys i swear im. tryigg my hardest but also im kind of a bad writiter 🙏

anyways the next one of these i make is most likely gonna be emu reader cause shes so silly

anyways

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rafeysdeer · 3 days ago

Text

boyfriend (aka insecure reader x bsf jason)

civil!reader x jason todd

prompt: where the reader has a terrible boyfriend and always ends up crying about him to her best friend, jason todd, or, where jason finally gets tired of seeing his girl being mistreated and does something about it.

a/n: i know i kinda say pretty much the same thing here, but these two are really cute, okay? i was like giggling and kicking while writing it, hope you guys love it. english is not my first language, also, feel free to send requests!

At 8pm, on your birthday, the day that was supposed to be about you, for you, where you were supposed to be going out and partying, you were curled up on the couch, wearing a sweatshirt three sizes too big for you, after the worst fight you've ever had with your boyfriend.

Your hand wrapped around your phone as you dialed the number of the only person who would understand you, who always did, your best friend, Jason. Your voice sounded tearful on the phone as you almost begged him to come to your apartment, you didn't have to say much, or wait long, before he shows up at your frontdoor.

As you wiped the tears away from your face and dragged yourself to open the door, trying to force a smile on your face, as he pulled you into his arms, before you could even say anything. "You need to break up with that asshole, you know that, right?"

Your voice sounds like a whisper against his chest as he softly guides you into the apartment, with you still clinging to him. "He already did it, he broke up with me, because he's seeing someone else" Your voice barely comes out, the tears running down your pretty face again, and Jason feels his blood boil, as if that asshole wasn't enough of a jerk to you.

With a quick look around the apartment he was able to catch the signs from the fight, the shards of glass on the floor, the broken flower vase, besides the complete mess that the apartment was in, your boyfriend was never exactly a controlled person.

"He doesn't deserve you, he never did," he whispers against her hair as he sits the two of you on the couch, which by some miracle, was in perfect condition, and he hears her whimper against him. "What if the problem is me? What if I wasn't interesting enough, or pretty enough-" His eyebrows furrowed together in the purest expression of disbelief before he shuts you up. "Honey, I'm sorry, but shut up, are you even listening to yourself? You're doubting of the best person I know for some asshole who didn't know how to value the fucking treasure he had."

Your eyes, shining with tears, stare into his, without any words to express how you felt. Jason hated your boyfriend, he always did, and with a good reason, he always treated you as if you were less than him, and you accepted it, because he made you believe that you were less.

Your eyebrows furrowed in doubt slightly, your body moving away from his a little so you could finally look properly at him.

"I would never leave you crying alone on your own birthday for the God's sake, or leave you alond at a party at two am for someone else to take you home." He grabs your hands, an almost pleading look in his eyes, and there it was, you finally understand, all the hate directed at your boyfriend, is because he knew exactly how you should be treated, he knew exactly how to treat you.

Your eyes were shining with something different than tears this time, affection, as your head slowly tilted to the side, absorbing the information. "I could be a better boyfriend than him, come on, I doubt that idiot knows that you only drink tea with cream and a ton of sugar? That you bake cookies to the children at the shelter, so they can feel loved?" He shook his head, he wouldn't let the guy who left you crying on your own birthday after telling you he cheated on you go unpunished, but that was a story for later, for when you understand that everything you ever needed was right there.

"Shut up, I love you," she says with the most genuine, silly smile she had in weeks, maybe months, before wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a heated, well-deserved kiss.

"I've loved you since the day I saw you eating snow when you were six, Jay, I guess I just never thought it was mutual." He smirked, rolling his eyes, his arms keeping her wrapped around him. "I saw you having a crush on Edward Cullen when you were thirteen, do you really think I would still be here if I didn't love you?" You laughed, slapping his arm playfully.

"Shut up and kiss me."

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood imagine #jason todd thoughts #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #batfamily #batfam #jason todd dc #dc jason todd #red hood dc #jason todd fluff #dc comics #dc universe #dcu

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multific · 22 hours ago

Text

A Love Worth Defying an Empire

Emperor Geta x Reader

Summary: As Emperor, Geta rules with a cold heart, trusting no one in a court full of betrayal. But when you are accused of treason, something in him breaks. In between power and love, Geta has to make a decision.

The halls of the imperial palace were cold, carved from marble that shined under the dim light of torches.

The scent of burning incense lingered in the air, mixing with the faint metallic tang of spilt wine and whispered betrayals.

Rome was always alive, but inside the palace walls, the heart of the empire was filled with treachery.

And you were caught in the middle of it.

You stood before the Emperor’s throne, your hands bound together.

The accusation had been whispered into Geta’s ear by men.

Men who lied.

Men who thought could do anything they pleased.

Treason.

A word that could have you executed before the sunset.

The guards gripped your arms, but your eyes remained on him.

Geta sat high above you, dressed in deep crimson, he looked like a true Emperor because he was.

His brother wasn't informed of what was happening. Caracalla was in his room, hidden from all of this.

Geta's expression was unreadable, his jaw tight.

You knew him.

You knew the way his mind worked, the weight pressing upon him.

But did he know you?

Truly know you enough to see through this lie?

“Tell me,” he finally spoke, his voice sharp. “Do you deny it?”

Your heart pounded but you only spoke the truth. “I do.”

“And yet, here you stand, accused by men with no reason to lie.”

“No reason?” You wanted to laugh, you almost did. “They have every reason. They fear how much you trust me.”

The court gasped at your words, but Geta… Geta did not move.

Only a single muscle ticked in his jaw.

“I would not be so foolish as to trust blindly.”

“That’s not what I meant,” you whispered. “They know I have your ear. They know you listen when I speak.”

Perhaps you had more than just his ear. But the court didn't need to know that. You didn't want to confirm any of their suspicions.

A simple servant is all you were. You have been accused many times to be in love with the Emperor. You deny everything. Yet they all know.

But now, this wasn't the man you fell in love with. This was the Emperor.

And then Geta stood up.

Silence.

The room stood still as he walked from his throne, his steps slow and deliberate.

The guards at your side straightened, but he gave them a single look, and they released you.

You exhaled, rubbing your wrists as he came to stand close to you.

“If I have made a mistake in trusting you…” he said quietly, though his voice was sharper than a blade, “I will not hesitate to correct it.”

You held his gaze. “And if you haven’t?”

His fingers twitched as if resisting the urge to reach for you. “Then I will have to kill the men who speak against you.”

You swallowed. “Then you know what must be done.”

His breath was unsteady, just for a moment. And then, without another word, he turned back to the court.

“Leave,” Geta commanded. “All of you.”

The senators, guards, and servants scrambled to obey, whispering amongst themselves as they hurried from the hall.

You remained still, watching Geta, waiting.

When the last man was gone, the doors shut with a heavy echo.

And then, finally, Geta turned back to you, his mask of power falling, shattering.

His hands came up, gripping your face with desperation. “I cannot lose you. I have spent my life surrounded by deceit, by hunger for power, by hands that reach for our throne while I sleep,” he murmured. “You are the only thing that is mine. If they had taken you from me…” He shut his eyes, his grip tightening. “I would have burned this city to the ground. Please tell me it is not true, please tell me every word is a lie.”

Tears filled your eyes. “I never betrayed you, I love you.” you reached out to him, keeping your hands on his. Hoping to ease his pain.

His thumb traced your cheek. “I know. But they will pay.” when his eyes opened, they were filled with determination.

You knew what that meant.

Blood would stain his hands before the night ended.

You should have feared it, but you didn’t.

Because this was his way of showing you love.

Love, in a world where power meant everything and tenderness, was a rare thing.

Love, for which he was ready to murder senators.

A simple servant is all you were. Cared for him through the hardest times, but fell in love with the Emperor.

Love, for which you were ready to die. But not like this, not by his hands due to a lie.

You leaned into his touch. “And what will happen to me?”

His forehead rested against yours. “You stay.”

A promise, an order, a plea.

Your fingers tugged the fabric of his tunic. “Always.”

He let out a shaky breath of relief.

And then he kissed you.

Not in the way an Emperor should, but as a man desperate for the one thing that made him human.

And in that moment, the throne meant nothing.

There was only you.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

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cosmicmunsonwrites · 6 hours ago

Note

LOVE mean!rafe and desperate!reader i need more where they finally become official if they ever do

but i’ll do anything for you

mean!rafe cameron x desperate!fem!reader

cw — mdni, p in v, cockwarming, rafe gets softer

summary — after rafe finally starts developing feelings, he decides to take whatever they have to the next level.

authors note — this can be read as a standalone but is essentially a part 2 to “i just wanna be one of your girls.” please request more!! they motivate me so much more than just free writing. should i keep adding to this series too??

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

“tell me you’re mine,” rafe demanded as his big rough hands kneaded the soft fat of your ass. his blue eyes glared into yours while he waited expectantly for your reply.

you moaned quietly when your hips rolled into his and his tip pressed up against your cervix in the most delicious way. “i’m yours, rafe,” you replied excitedly and eagerly. “i’ve always been yours.”

he nodded with a satisfied grin on his face. “good,” he mumbled before leaning forward to kiss you. your hands moved from his shoulders to his jaw as you pressed further into him. he thought the passion you poured into his lips was cute.

when you pulled away breathlessly with kiss-bitten lips, you frowned slightly with tears brimming in your waterline. “but are you mine?” you asked hesitantly. your face was quiet and scared, entirely expecting his answer to disappoint you like it always did.

he thought for a quick second. you were fucking gorgeous, you listened to everything he said, you did everything he asked, and you were completely obsessed with him. what else could he want? “I’m yours,” he whispered against your lips before kissing you again.

his hands moved underneath your ass to slowly lift you up and quickly slam you back down on his length. you whimpered into his mouth, leaving enough room for him to slip his tongue inside and get you feeling all dizzy.

he began to roll your hips into his own, your clit dragging against his pubic bone and the movement allowing you to feel every vein of his cock. tears began to slip down your cheeks. he fucking loved how sensitive you were.

“can’t take it, rafe,” you muttered against his pink lips. you panted as your walls spasmed around him and tried to push him out. “you’re too big.”

he could’ve swore he’d just fallen in love with you again. “move in with me,” he blurted out. he didn’t even have time to think about the words leaving his mouth. he just knew he needed to keep you safe and locked away where no one could snap you out of your little dream.

you nodded almost instantly. even with glossy eyes and tears staining your cheeks, you smiled bigger than ever. “i want that,” you said happily. he grinned and leaned back against the sofa, allowing you to move at your own pace and do whatever you needed for yourself. “rafe?”

“what?” he asked. there was almost a hint of irritation in his voice knowing that there was more than likely another question coming his way.

you wiped your tears and replaced your hands on his shoulders, trying to ignore the way his cock was impaling you. “does this mean we’re, like, exclusive?” you asked hopefully.

he internally rolled his eyes at that. was that really a question? he though it was pretty self-explanatory. he began to think he’d fucked you stupid already without even doing much. “sure,” he said.

you squealed giddily and hugged him tight. he almost began to question what he’d just gotten himself into.

#gracies asks and requests 💌#gracie writes rafe cameron 🌺#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #outerbanks rafe #outer banks #rafe obx #obx

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scoupsakakitty · 2 days ago

Text

Beautiful | idol!Hoshi x idolxReader | angst, fluff

Tw: weight loss, not feeling enough

The rain poured relentlessly, blurring the neon lights of Seoul into streaks of color as Hoshi stood outside the apartment building. His fingers clenched around the umbrella handle, though he wasn’t sure why he had bothered bringing it. He was already soaked, and something about the cold seemed fitting.

He hesitated before pressing the buzzer.

Silence.

Then, a static-laced voice: "Who is it?"

Hearing her voice after all this time nearly broke him. "It’s me."

A long pause. Too long.

"Go home, Soonyoung."

He swallowed. "I just want to see you. Please."

"Don’t you have something better to do? Like catching a flight to Japan?" she said bitterly.

"I’ll take the next flight," he replied without hesitation. "You’re more important."

More silence, then a click. The door unlocked. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and stepped inside.

Y/N was thinner than he remembered. The weight loss was noticeable even under the oversized hoodie she wore, sleeves pulled over trembling fingers. Her once-bright eyes were dull, lips slightly chapped, the kind of exhaustion that no amount of sleep could fix settled deep in her features.

Seeing her like this made his chest tighten. This wasn’t the Y/N he knew.

"You shouldn’t be here," she said, voice barely above a whisper.

Hoshi ignored the warning, stepping inside fully. "I had to see you. I had to know if you were okay."

She let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through her tangled hair. "Do I look okay to you?"

No. She looked like she had been barely holding on, like she had been drowning in something she couldn’t escape from. And the worst part? He hadn’t been there to pull her out.

"I’ve been watching you… on stage, in interviews, award shows. You’re disappearing, Y/N. You’re hurting," he admitted, voice raw. "Your friend reached out to me. She’s worried. And she thought maybe… maybe I could help."

Her eyes flashed. "And what? You think you can just come back and fix me? That your presence will magically make things better?"

"No," he whispered. "But I can be here. I can hold you up if you let me."

She scoffed. "You left, Soonyoung. And now you want to be my savior?"

"I never stopped caring," he said, his voice shaking. "I never stopped loving you."

That was the breaking point. Her lips trembled, and before she could stop herself, she collapsed into his arms.

"It’s so hard, Soonyoung," she sobbed into his chest. "No matter what I do, there’s always something wrong with me. I’m never pretty enough, never talented enough. Always too much or too little. They find every flaw, every mistake. The pressure is… it’s crushing me."

He held her tightly, rubbing soothing circles on her back. "Y/N, listen to me. You are the most beautiful person in the world. And not because of how you look. You are beautiful for the way you think, for the sparkle in your eyes when you talk about something you love, for your ability to make people smile without trying."

She clung to him, her breathing ragged.

"I am proud of you," he continued. "I am proud of you for trying, even when it hurts. I wish I could tell you when you’ll finally feel okay again, when your head will be above water, but healing isn’t something you can time. It isn’t something you can measure. But things will get lighter, little by little, as you break through the weight on your shoulders. Keep facing what you need to face. You are getting closer every single day, even if it doesn’t feel that way. And I hope you start to believe that you are worthy of everything you want in this life. You deserve to be adored and cared for in every way your mind, body, and heart long for. You are effortlessly beautiful. You are the embodiment of beauty. Don’t let anyone tell you differently."

She sniffled, pulling back slightly to look at him. "Why do you still love me? After everything?"

He smiled sadly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "The only feeling stronger than my love for you is the ache that comes with missing you. I love everything about you. Maybe too much. But how could I not love that smile, that laughter, those eyes, that passion?"

Her breath hitched, fresh tears pooling in her eyes.

"I hate you," she whispered, voice trembling.

"I know," he said softly, pressing his forehead against hers. "Hate me all you want. Just let me stay."

She let out a shuddering breath and, after what felt like an eternity, nodded against his chest.

Soonyoung held her, his arms tightening around her fragile frame, and for the first time in months, she let herself lean into the warmth she had been missing.

Outside, the rain kept falling, washing away the past, making room for something new.

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darlingdaisyfarm · 1 day ago

Note

This honestly might be a downer or stupid, but I just got fired and I am having a really hard time. I just want to bury my head in Stan's chest and sob. I was wondering if you could write how the Stan and Ford might react to the reader being suddenly fired and maybe how they'd comfort them? I'm also really excited for the next chapter of your fic!

✧˚⋆ Stan & Ford supporting you when you need it most ⋆｡♡˚

oh sweetheart, im so sorry ur going through this, holy shit. just the moment i received this ask, i knew i had to write smth when ill get free time today, because i feel so sorry for you. i hope these two old men gave u even a tiny bit of comfort, please be kind to urself right now, youre gonna get through this, i promise. sending u all my love !! stay strong please 🫂🫂

STANLEY

the thing about Stan is that he gets it. he gets the feeling of being chewed up and spat out, of having doors slam in your face, of working your ass off and still being told you’re not enough. he gets the quiet humiliation, the bitterness in the back of your throat, the way your hands shake when you try to act like it doesn’t matterm

you don’t even remember how you got here. your feet must’ve carried you through the streets, past strangers whose lives weren’t just ruined, past cars honking, past buildings that still stood while the whole world inside you had collapsed.

“hey, hey. what the hell, sweetheart, breathe, alright? you’re okay, you’re right here.” his rough but worried voice reaches you when you slam mystery shack's door open, standing in the doorway with shaking hands, red-eyed.

“i got fired, Stan. j-just gone, outta nowhere. i don’t know what to do, Stan, im so lost.” your throat burns

before you can say anything else, he's opening his arms. “c'mere.” and you don't even hesitate as you crash into him like a wave, burying your face in his chest. and he holds you, one big arm wrapping around your back, the other hand coming up to cradle the back of your head

“there we go. you don’t gotta keep it all in, sweetheart.” the words hit you harder than you expect. you're so used to holding it together, to swallowing everything down, to being strong. and Stan, who’s built himself up from nothing, who’s taken every punch life threw at him and still kept standing, he’s telling you it’s okay to break.

so you do. you bury your face in his chest and cry until you’re dizzy, until your breath stutters and shakes, until all the anger and hurt and fear bleed out of you. Stanley doesn’t rush you or tell you to stop. “let it out, sweetie, s’gonna be okay.” he holds you close tightly because he’s spent his whole life holding people who needed it more than he did.

“it’s not fair,” you gasp, clutching on his clothes.

“no, it ain’t.”

“i worked so hard.”

“i know.”

“i feel like—like nothing i do is enough—”

Stan tightens his hold, pressing his chin to the top of your head. “hey. you listen to me.” his voice turns serious. “some suit in an office makin’ a crap decision got nothing to do with who you are. they're dumb. absolute morons for lettin’ you go. betcha the whole place is gonna fall apart without you because you were the best thing about that shithole. if they couldn’t see that, then screw ‘em. they lost you. not the other way around.”

you shake your head, clenching your fists. “but—“

“no buts,” he growls and then, softer: “you're not trash just ‘cause some idiots don’t know how to treat their workers. you're not worthless just ‘cause some suits decided you were expendable. you are not nothing.”

Stan pulls back to tip your chin up, making sure you’re listening. his thumb wipes a tear off your cheek. “i mean, you still got me, sweetheart. ain’t no job in the world that could change that.” he smiles genuinely at you.

you close your eyes, giving him a tiny sad smile back. you let yourself breathe, let yourself believe it, hiding your face in his chest again. Stan's grip stays strong and unshaking, shielding you from the whole world as you cry until you’re too tired, so all what you do is sob into his chest. you’re just leaning into him, exhausted, letting him hold you up.

Stan sighs, resting his cheek against your hair. “ya ever heard the story of the biggest screw-up in New Jersey?”

you sniffle. “what?”

”lemme tell ya, kid grows up in a house that don’t want him. gets kicked out. loses every job he ever had. ends up in a broken-down shack in the middle of nowhere. total loser.”

you shift against him. “Stan—“

“but he keeps goin’. and somehow, somehow, that dumbass loser ends up with people who love him. ends up holdin’ someone who needs it. ends up tellin’ the best damn person he’s ever met that they’re gonna be okay.”

he lets you lean into him again, lets you breathe him in, lets you stay as long as you need. tells you stories about all the bosses he’s scammed just to make you laugh.

at some point, when the tears have slowed and the weight in your chest isn’t crushing anymore, Stan ruffles your hair and leans back, arms crossed.

“y’know, i could use an extra set of hands around the shack.“

you blink up at him, sniffing. “what? you. . .you want me to work here?”

“yeah, id rather have someone i actually like workin’ here instead of hiring some random kid who’s just gonna rob me blind.” his usual gruff tone is back, but his gaze is what speaks louder, soft and certain, making it obvious that you belong here.

you open your mouth, but he cuts in, pointing a finger at you. “and before ya say some crap about not bein’ good enough or whatever, shut up. i’m the boss, i decide who’s good enough, and i say it’s you.”

you let out a shaky laugh, wiping your nose. “wow, such a heartfelt offer.”

he smirks. “hey, that’s as heartfelt as it gets, sweetheart. but seriously. think about it, okay? i got a spot for ya.” Stanley is not just offering a job for you, he’s offering a place, a place where you’re wanted, where you’re needed, where you don’t have to prove yourself to anyone.

you take a deep breath, feeling lighter for the first time all day. “yeah. yeah, i’ll think about it.”

“good,” Stan smiles and ruffles your hair again. “now, wanna eat somethin’? watch a dumb movie? beat me at cards? or you want me to egg their car?” about the last thing, he's joking, probably. but if you say yes, you know he’ll do it.

STANFORD

Ford finds you sitting at the kitchen table, arms crossed on the surface, face buried in them. you haven’t moved and spoken in a while, just sat there, motionless, like a puppet with the strings cut.

he clears his throat, stepping closer. “i, ah. noticed you didn’t come in for dinner.”

you don’t respond. his brows knit together, concern creasing his forehead. he takes the seat across from you, folding his hands on the table. “would you like to talk about it?”

for a moment, nothing. then, muffled: “i got fired.” slips from your mouth. so that's what happened. Ford doesn’t say oh. doesn’t say im sorry. doesn’t say what happened? he understands you because Ford Pines knows what it is to be discarded. he knows what it is to dedicate yourself to something, only to be told you are wrong. to be shoved out, unmoored, drifting in the space between who you thought you were and who they’ve decided you are now.

he knows what it is to look down at his hands and wonder if they are still meant to build something. after being betrayed.

he frowns thoughtfully. “that was. . . rather sudden, wasn’t it?”

you nod weakly. Ford exhales through his nose, gaze sharpening, analyzing. you. your sadness. the whole situation.

“it must feel unfair.“ he doesn’t just acknowledge the loss, but the injustice of it. and it makes your throat close up.

you lift your head slightly, looking at his face. “it- it is. i tried so hard. i put so much effort into that stupid job, and now it’s just—just gone.”

Ford hums. “tell me something.” he leans forward, putting elbows on the table. “do you think your value was in the work you did?”

you blink at him, but he doesn't even let you answer. “because if that were the case, then the moment you lost that job, you would have lost all worth as a person. but that’s not true, is it?” his voice is always so calm, full of absolute certainty.

you shake your head slowly, unsurely and Ford nods, satisfied. then, after a brief pause, he stands. “wait here” you don’t have the energy to question him. you just sit, staring blankly at the tabletop, until he returns a moment later with a notebook and pen.

he places them in front of you.

you glance up, confused. “what’s this for?”

Ford takes his seat again, tapping a finger against the cover. “do me a favor, darling. write down five things about yourself that have nothing to do with your job.”

your face looks tired and skeptical. you stare at the paper. “Ford, i—“

“anything,” he says softly, smiling at you. “everything. what you love. what you’re good at. what excites you, what makes you feel something. what matters to you.”

your fingers tighten around the pen. at first, you don’t know where to start. but Ford doesn’t rush you, just patiently sits beside you.

so you write. you write about the things that make you you. and at first, it feels stupid and awkward. it starts small, your favorite books, your favorite songs, the way you love thunderstorms, the way you always make extra coffee just in case someone else wants some.

but then it gets bigger. the things you’ve created. the things you’ve learned. the times you were kind when no one was looking. the people who love you, who see you. the way you keep going, even when it’s hard

Ford watches as you write, nodding approvingly at each entry.

“now tell me: did losing your job take any of that away?”

you stare at the words. the little pieces of yourself you hadn’t even thought about in the wake of everything. softly, you shake your head

Ford’s expression gentles. “then you’re still you. and you’re still worth just as much as you were yesterday. because no job, no institution, no single event defines you.” you swallow hard. Fords voice drops lower. “you are more than what you do, more than what you produce, more than what some company decides you’re worth. you are your thoughts. your curiosity. your kindness.” he gestures to the list. “you are all of this and nothing can take that from you.”

your breath wobbles. Ford’s gaze softens further. “come here, sweetheart.“ you hesitate but only for a second, then stand and he meets you halfway, arms wrapping around you. and Ford isn’t Stanley, isn’t someone used to giving big, open, thoughtless affection. but what he lacks in ease, he makes up for in intent.

because he means this. his big hand moves up and down your back slowly. “you’re not alone in this,” he murmurs into your hair. “we’ll figure something out. and until then. . . you are still extraordinary.“ his voice is so certain, and suddenly you don’t feel quite as lost.

“th-thank you” you bury your face in his sweater, hands gripping his sleeves

“and don’t let anyone ever tell you you aren’t smart or brave or worthy enough.”

you stay there a while. until Ford gives your shoulder one last squeeze and pulls back, adjusting his glasses. “now. i assume you haven’t eaten?”

you smile at him, shaking your head. “no, wasn't in the mood.“

“come, sweetheart, let’s fix that.”

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls x you #x reader #ford pines x reader #stanford pines #stan pines x reader #grunkle stan #stanley pines x you #stanley pines x reader #stanford pines x you #stanford pines x reader #stan pines smut #ford pines smut #stanley pines #stanford pines headcanons #gravity falls fanfiction #stan pines x you #ford pines x you

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ot8xbangchansgirlsblog · 9 hours ago

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𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕕𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕖𝕒𝕟?

part one

Warning: Angst, cursing, Tired reader, really clingy Felix.

Summary: Y/n's exhausted and slowly breaking down.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Today was one of those mentally off days. Y/n’s body felt like it was on autopilot, moving without her full control. Every step she took seemed harder than the last, her mind foggy and clouded by exhaustion. Her stomach churned from the overdose of caffeine that had only made her feel worse, mixing with the emptiness of not eating anything all day. Her skin had lost its usual warmth, now pale and clammy, drenched in sweat as the lack of sleep began to hit its peak. It was a feeling she knew all too well, but one that still managed to knock her out every time.

She barely heard her manager’s voice through the haze, his words distant as he waved his hand in front of her face. “Y/n, are you listening?”

She flinched, her heart racing as the sound of his voice jerked her from the haze. Her eyes focused on him, trying to piece everything together. “Uh… what?” she mumbled, blinking in confusion, her brain struggling to catch up.

Her manager sighed but gave her a soft, understanding smile, though there was a hint of impatience there. “Oh right… I finished filing the documents you asked me to—”

“Great!” he interrupted, raising an eyebrow, his tone lighter now as he leaned forward. “Can you just go over them again and make sure there aren’t any mistakes?”

Y/n mentally groaned, the thought of reviewing pages of fine print when her head felt like it was splitting open. But she knew the importance. She couldn't afford to mess anything up.

He really was a sweet man—kind, professional, and understanding. It wasn’t his fault that they were all running on fumes. But the reality was, some idiot had royally messed up one of the key projects they were set to present. It had thrown everything off course, and now everyone was scrambling, working endless hours to catch up with the other departments that had their shit together.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll get started right now,” she said softly, the words almost coming out as a whisper. She blinked a few times, gathering the willpower to lift herself from her chair. “May I be excused?”

Her manager gave her a soft smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course, dear. Thank you so much for your hard work.” He hesitated for a moment, his gaze softening as he looked at her. “I really do appreciate it, more than you know.”

Y/n nodded, trying to hide the fatigue creeping into her bones. Before she could leave, he stopped her, holding out his wallet and pulling out his company card. “Here, take this,” he said gently. “Get yourself some dinner... well, technically breakfast.” He glanced at his watch, a guilty laugh escaping him when he realized it was already 3 AM. “You really don’t have to, but I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

She took the card hesitantly, his concern evident in his eyes. “You really don’t have to, sir. But… thank you.” Her lips curved into a tired but genuine smile, her mood shifting slightly, softened by his kindness.

He gave her a reassuring smile, watching as she stood, her shoulders heavy with the weight of the night’s work. "You deserve it, Y/n. Get some rest when you can, okay?" She nodded, grateful, and walked out of the office, the card tucked into her pocket.

It was around 4:30 AM when Y/n's phone vibrated softly on the desk. She glanced at the screen, seeing Chan’s name light up. His call was a relief in the quiet, late hours of her work shift.

“Baby?” His voice sounded husky, still laced with the grogginess of just waking up. His tone carried a trace of concern.

“Hey, Channie,” Y/n said sweetly, though her voice wavered from exhaustion. Her eyelids fluttered in an attempt to stay open as she balanced the phone between her shoulder and ear, all while continuing to work.

“Hey, where are you? It’s 4 AM…” Chan's words came out in a small panic. Y/n could tell he was still trying to shake off sleep, his voice deepening with worry.

“I’m sorry, babe, I’m still at work,” Y/n sighed, turning a page in her file while typing something up. She clicked a few buttons on her laptop before glancing out the window. The city streets were silent, the world wrapped in a peaceful stillness that seemed a world apart from her busy desk. “Mr. Ji asked me to finish something quickly... I'll be home in a bit, I promise.”

Chan let out a frustrated groan, but his voice softened. “Still at work? Baby, it’s 4 AM. Come home already.” There was a slight panic in his tone now. He shifted under the covers, careful not to wake up Han, who had been nestled against him the entire night. The warmth of his touch was still fresh on his skin, but his concern for her outweighed any desire to stay in bed.

“Yeah... I know, I’m sorry. But Mr. Ji is being really worried about this project,” she explained, the guilt in her chest growing heavier with every word. She didn’t want to add more to his plate. “I’ll be done soon. I’ll be home before you know it.”

There was a pause, followed by Chan’s soft, frustrated sigh. “I can come pick you up right now…” His voice was filled with worry. “You don’t have to be out so late by yourself.”

“No, babe—” Y/n interrupted gently, “it’s way too late, and you have practice in an hour and a half. Get some rest, okay? I’ll be home soon.” She spoke with a calmness she didn’t entirely feel, trying her best to soothe him.

Chan’s frown deepened, even though she couldn’t see it. “Who’s going to drop you off? You shouldn’t be out at this hour alone. It’s not safe…”

“I’ll ask Yi-so Unnie to drop me off,” Y/n reassured him, trying to sound convincing. “She’ll take me home. Don’t worry, please? Just go back to sleep.”

There was a long silence, and Y/n could almost hear his internal battle. Finally, with a resigned sigh, Chan let out a quiet, “Okay... just call me if you need anything, alright?”

“I promise,” Y/n said softly, a smile tugging at her lips despite the weight of the moment. She felt the stress melting a little with each reassuring word. “How are my boys?”

“They’re good, all asleep,” Chan replied, his voice lighter now. He’d finally crawled back into bed, pulling Han back into his arms, the warmth and comfort of his body providing a sense of peace. He closed his eyes, feeling the tension in his shoulders slowly ease.

"Felix is mad at you," Chan said, chuckling lightly, his tone teasing yet knowing. Y/n furrowed her brow. Chan knew all too well how dramatic Felix had been these past few days, sulking about how little time Y/n had been able to spend with him due to her hectic schedule.

Y/n sighed, leaning back in her chair, and pinching the bridge of her nose. "I know, I know," she muttered, clearly exhausted herself. "Is he sleeping with you?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of concern, though there was a small smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. Felix always slept with her every night, curling up beside her for comfort and companionship. Her long nights at the office had clearly been taking a toll on him, and that made her feel a pang of guilt.

Chan chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, he's with Changbin," he replied, his voice still laced with a tired yawn. He stretched his arms overhead, the exhaustion evident in the way his shoulders slumped.

Y/n’s frown deepened slightly, the guilt gnawing at her as she glanced over at the clock on the wall. "I really need to wrap this up," she murmured more to herself than to Chan. It was late, and she knew Felix would be waiting for her, feeling abandoned.

"He'll survive," he said, teasing again, though there was a comforting warmth in his voice. "But maybe just send him a text before you come home, so he knows you haven’t forgotten him completely."

Y/n gave him a small, grateful smile. "I will," she promised softly, though her mind was already on the long to-do list she still had to get through. The work would never stop, but neither could her relationship with Felix—she just hoped he understood.

“I’m glad to hear that. See you soon, my love,” Y/n replied, her heart aching as she imagined him lying next to Han.

“Did you eat something?” His voice was soft, his eyes growing heavy with sleep again.

“Yeah, baby,” Y/n responded, a tiny lie slipping past her lips. “Get some rest. You sound exhausted. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Chan murmured, his voice growing quieter. He drifted back into sleep, the call fading into silence.

Y/n smiled as she quickly hung up, her gaze drifting back to the screen. But the guilt still gnawed at her—she was only halfway through her work, and the night was far from over.

It was now 5:20 AM, and Y/n was almost done with her work. The office was quiet, save for the soft hum of her computer. She was confident she’d be wrapped up by 5:45. Letting out a loud yawn, she stretched her arms overhead before grabbing her coffee cup. The bitter taste jolted her awake, though only slightly.

"Hey, neighbor," came a familiar voice. Hae, one of her co-workers, knocked lightly on the office door before pushing it open. "Hey, love," Y/n greeted with a tired smile, her eyes flickering up from the pile of papers she was working through. "Are you done with work?"

"Almost," Hae replied, swinging herself into the office chair with a casual stretch. "Are you?"

"Yeah," Y/n groaned, rubbing her face and flipping a page in her book. "I’m so tired. I can’t wait to get out of here."

"Same here," Hae agreed with a dramatic sigh, flopping back in her chair. "So, once we’re done, wanna grab breakfast? We don’t have to be back until 8 anyway." She rolled her eyes at the thought of getting only a few hours of sleep.

Y/n laughed softly. "Yeah, sure. Mr. Ji gave me the company card, so we can go get something to eat."

"Great!" Hae beamed, standing up from the chair with a bounce in her step. "See you in a bit." She waved and stepped out of the room, leaving Y/n chuckling at how adorable she was.

The moment Hae was out of sight, Y/n’s focus returned to the computer screen in front of her, but not for long. Her phone vibrated on the desk, and without looking, she picked it up. It was one of her boyfriends, likely Changbin.

"Hey, bunny," Changbin's voice came through the phone. She could hear the sound of him rattling around in the kitchen, probably making his usual protein shake. "Where are you? Did you head out for work already?"

"Hey, baby," Y/n sighed, leaning back in her chair. "I didn’t come home last night. I’m still at work."

“What? You didn’t come home?” Changbin’s voice was filled with concern. “Why? That’s so unhealthy.”

She winced, knowing what was coming. "Yeah, but remember how I told you we’re behind because of one of my coworkers?”

"Yeah, I remember..." His voice softened, but she could tell he was holding back his irritation.

“Binnie, be nice,” Y/n scolded, cutting him off before he could say something sharp. "We’re almost done, though. Just a bit longer."

He exhaled loudly. "But you’ve been coming home really late these past few days, going to work really early. You barely eat and you're practically running on coffee. We’ve barely seen you.” He pouted, even though Y/n couldn’t see it. She could hear the concern in his voice, though.

“I know. I know,” Y/n whispered, feeling her chest tighten. She was trying so hard to stay composed, but the weight of everything was getting to her. The constant pressure, the long hours—she was on the verge of breaking down. "I’m just...really tired."

There was a pause on the other end before Changbin let out a sigh. "I’m heading to the gym right now, but I’ll swing by and drop off your jacket. You need anything?"

Y/n shook her head, even though he couldn’t see it. "Don’t bother. I’m leaving the office now. You’ll probably find me home." She tried to sound nonchalant, but her voice was tight, like a rubber band stretched too thin.

“Are you sure?” Changbin asked, his voice laced with worry. "I can grab you something to eat, too, if you need it."

"No, it’s okay," Y/n quickly dismissed him, trying to push back the feelings welling up in her chest. "I’m leaving soon. Go work out. I’ll be home before you know it."

"Okay..." Changbin’s voice was defeated, but he didn’t push her any further. "I love you. Call me if you need anything, alright?"

"I will. I love you too." Y/n's words came out a little too quickly, but she needed him to hang up. Her head was starting to ache, and she couldn’t bear to talk much longer. She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Bye, my love."

She hung up, her fingers trembling slightly as she set the phone down. For a moment, she just sat there in silence, the office lights buzzing overhead. She closed her eyes for a beat, trying to steady her breathing, but the tension was too much. It was too much.

"Finally," Y/n huffed, letting the tension leave her shoulders as she stood in the empty office, basking in the quiet after a long day of work. She had managed to finish everything in time and turned in all the reports. She finally felt like she could breathe. "Hey, neighbor, you finished?" Hae's voice cut through the stillness as she leaned casually against the doorframe. She was already wearing her coat, a small bag slung over her shoulder, ready to head out.

"Yeah, just handed everything in," Y/n said with a relieved smile. "Lemme grab my stuff and we can go."

As she tossed a few stray papers into her bag and pulled on her coat, Hae lingered in the doorway, trying to make small talk. "It’s quite chill outside," she noted, shoving her hands into her pockets.

"Yeah," Y/n chuckled, the image of her boyfriend popping into her mind. "My boyfriend wanted to bring me another jacket just because it’s so cold."

Hae raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Aww, that’s sweet. How are they, by the way?"

"They're good," Y/n said with a soft laugh. "Probably really mad I didn’t come home. I kind of...forgot to charge my phone." She cursed under her breath as she fumbled with her dead phone. "Great timing, huh?"

"I've got a charger," Hae offered with a grin, pulling out a cord from her bag. "We can charge it at the cafe."

"Thanks," Y/n said, gratefully accepting the charger and slipping her phone back into her bag. She locked her office door and followed Hae out into the chilly evening air.

After they grabbed a quick breakfast at the cafe, they parted ways. Y/n didn’t realize until she was on her way home that she had completely forgotten to charge her phone after all. The day had already begun for most people, but for her, it was time to sleep.

When she arrived at the house, she could hear footsteps echoing through the halls, indicating that everyone was getting ready for their schedules. Y/n sighed softly, pushing her tired body to unlock the door. She stepped inside, shedding her shoes and coat, and called out, "I’m home!"

Her feet dragged on the floor as she made her way through the house, exhaustion pulling at every step. "Babe?" Leeknow's voice came from the kitchen, and he appeared in the doorway. Dressed in sweatpants, a hoodie, and a cap, he looked comfortable but clearly concerned as he rushed over to her.

"Why weren’t you answering our calls?" He asked, pulling her into a warm hug, his worry evident in his voice.

"My phone died, my love. I totally forgot to charge it," she explained softly, resting her head on his chest. "Are you good? Did you sleep well?" she asked, planting a soft kiss on his lips.

"Yeah, I did," he replied, brushing a hand gently through her hair. "But you, you're burning up," he frowned, his palm coming to rest on her forehead. "Are you sick?"

"No, just really tired," she yawned, fighting to stay awake as her body screamed for rest.

"Okay, go wash up and get into bed. I’ll make you some warm hot chocolate," he cooed, guiding her toward the stairs with gentle hands.

"I just had breakfast, baby. Just get ready for work. I promise I’m okay, I just need to recharge before going back in," she reassured him, giving him one more soft kiss on the lips. "Go on, I’ll be fine."

Leeknow looked at her with concern, rubbing her cheek with his thumb. "O-okay... but I’ll come check on you before I leave, yeah?"

Y/n nodded, offering him a tired smile, before slowly making her way up the stairs, feeling his eyes follow her every step. His worry gnawed at him as he watched her sluggish movements, but he didn’t say anything.

Upstairs, the house was busy with everyone getting ready for the day. Y/n managed to sneak past everyone and into her room, where she quickly washed up and changed into something more comfortable. She turned off the lights, allowing herself to collapse into her cozy bed. A sigh of relief left her lips as she curled up, closing her eyes and letting the weight of the day melt away. The sound of the house buzzing with activity was drowned out as she finally allowed herself to fall into a deep, well-deserved sleep.

20 minutes hadn’t even passed by when suddenly her door opened and closed. She was too tired to open her eyes to see how it was but she could tell by the persons cologne.

Her blanket shifted, the soft fabric sliding off as Felix’s body pressed against hers, seeking warmth. His small sniffles reached her ears as he nestled closer, his head resting against her chest. "Y/nnie?" he mumbled, his voice thick with something between sleepiness and sadness.

Y/N’s eyelids fluttered open slowly, the hazy room coming into focus. She blinked once, twice, before realizing Felix was right there, pouting, his soft features contorted with a mixture of discomfort and longing. He wrapped his arms around her waist, his hands cold against her skin as he nuzzled his head under her chin, snuggling into the crook of her neck.

"Hey, babyboy, what’s wrong?" she murmured softly, her voice thick with the grogginess of sleep. Without even thinking, her hand instinctively moved to stroke his arm, soothing him with gentle touches. She threaded her fingers through his tousled blonde hair, the faint scent of his shampoo mixing with the warmth of his body.

Felix let out a soft whimper, his voice muffled against her skin. "You didn’t cuddle with me last night..." His words were laced with an almost childlike sadness, his lower lip protruding in a small, endearing pout.

Y/N’s heart tugged, and she felt a wave of guilt rush over her. Felix always craved her attention, often joking about it, but tonight was different. He needed her, and she hadn't been there. "I’m sorry, Lix," she whispered, her fingers brushing through his hair again. "I had so much work to do. It was a long night…"

"I know, but still…" His voice faltered, and he tightened his hold around her waist, his body curling further into hers, as if trying to get as close as physically possible. "You’ve been working so much. You don’t even have time for me anymore."

The guilt in her chest tightened. Felix was right. He was always by her side, but recently, the overwhelming weight of her responsibilities had kept them apart. "Baby," she started, her voice low, "I'm really sorry. It wasn’t intentional."

Felix looked up at her with big, wide eyes, his brow furrowed in that familiar, pouty expression she knew too well. His voice wavered, vulnerable. "But… I don’t get it, Y/N. You’re always with Han and everyone else. When it’s my turn… I’m always the last one."

She felt her chest tighten at his words. This wasn’t how she had intended for him to feel, but exhaustion clouded her thoughts, making it hard to communicate. "Sunshine," she interrupted gently, her tone more fatigued than she intended. "Can we talk later? I’m just so tired right now."

Felix’s face shifted, a flash of hurt crossing his features. "Fine. If you don’t love me anymore, just say that. You’re always laying up with Han and the rest, and when it comes to me, you just ignore me…" His voice cracked as he pulled away from her, slipping out of her grip. His body shifted away as he sat up, the room feeling much colder without him against her.

"Felix, it’s not like that," Y/N protested, frustration rising as she tried to reach for him, her tiredness now turning into worry. "I promise, I do love you. I just—"

"Whatever," he muttered, his tone sharp now, tinged with bitterness. He stood up, pacing away from her bed. "You don’t get it, Y/N. You’ve been too busy for me. I’m not going to sit here and beg for your attention anymore."

"Please, Lix," Y/N pleaded softly, trying to push herself up from the bed, but her body felt like lead, heavy with exhaustion. "I’ve been up all night, but I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry."

Felix turned to her, his back facing her as he stood by the door, frustration radiating off him. "I get it, okay? You’ve got a million things on your plate. But it’s fine. It’s whatever." His words dripped with resentment, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the conversation had drained him.

Y/N’s heart sank as she watched him storm out of the room, the door shutting behind him with a soft thud. She sank back into her bed, her mind reeling with guilt and exhaustion.

She hadn't wanted things to get like this, but as she lay there, her eyelids fluttering shut again, she couldn’t help but wonder if the rift between them had gotten too wide to fix with just a few apologies.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

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A/N: Thank you anon!

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kpop-reactions-povs · 3 days ago

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Seventeen - Their S/O feeling sad because they overwork and spend less time with them

S.Coups

You barely get the words out before he’s already pulling you into a tight hug. His grip is warm and steady, almost like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go. "I’m so sorry," he whispers, his voice thick with guilt. "I didn’t realize how much I’ve been missing with you." He pulls back and cups your face, his eyes searching yours. "From now on, no more late-night meetings without a call. And this weekend? It’s just us." He kisses your forehead softly. "You’re my priority."

Jeonghan

He notices the sadness in your voice even before you finish speaking, his playful smile fading. "Oh no, I’ve messed up, haven’t I?" Jeonghan sighs, tugging you down onto the couch beside him. His fingers intertwine with yours as he leans his head on your shoulder. "I’m sorry, love. I got caught up with everything... but nothing’s more important than you." A sly grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. "How about we ditch everything and have a lazy day tomorrow? Just us, blankets, and snacks."

Joshua

Joshua listens carefully, his face calm but his eyes full of concern. When you finish, he gently takes your hand and gives it a squeeze. "I’m really sorry you felt this way," he says softly. "I’ve been so focused on work that I forgot to focus on us." He pauses, a small smile forming. "How about a date night? Like, a proper one. Dinner, music, and then a walk under the stars?" His voice is full of warmth. "We’ll make it a weekly thing, I promise."

Jun

Jun’s eyes widen as you tell him how you’ve been feeling. "Why didn’t you tell me sooner?" he says, his voice full of concern. Without waiting for an answer, he grabs your hand and pulls you into a spontaneous hug. "We’re fixing this right now." The next thing you know, he’s planning a whole day of fun—roller skating, ice cream, and watching silly movies until you’re both laughing too hard to breathe.

Hoshi

The moment he realizes you’ve been sad, Hoshi’s face falls. "Wait, wait, you’ve been feeling like that because of me?" He practically throws his phone on the table and rushes to sit beside you. "I’m such a fool," he mutters, hugging you tightly. "I don’t care how busy things get. I’ll always make time for you." His next plan? A surprise adventure date filled with random dancing, stuffed animals, and your favorite food.

Wonwoo

Wonwoo doesn’t say much at first, but you can tell he’s taking every word to heart. He nods slowly, his brow furrowing as he processes everything. "I didn’t mean to make you feel that way," he says quietly. "Thank you for telling me." Later that evening, he invites you to a calm, quiet bookstore date and insists on buying you whatever catches your eye.

Woozi

Woozi’s eyes flicker with surprise, and then... guilt. "I’ve really been that absent?" he asks, almost to himself. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. "I’ve been so focused on music… but you’re the song I should never forget." He takes your hand. "I’ll do better." True to his word, you find yourself spending more time in his studio—together, side by side—and he even writes a sweet little tune just for you.

DK (Seokmin)

His eyes immediately fill with worry. "Wait, really? Oh no, I’ve been a terrible boyfriend!" He wraps you in the biggest hug, his warmth practically melting your sadness. "I’ll make it up to you, I swear!" He’s already grabbing his phone to plan a full day of fun—picnics, karaoke, and the cheesiest rom-com marathon you’ve ever seen. All while sneaking kisses and making sure you never stop smiling.

Mingyu

Mingyu looks heartbroken as you speak, his face falling with each word. "I’ve really hurt you without meaning to," he says, his voice low. "I hate that." He stands up and heads to the kitchen, returning with your favorite comfort food. "Eat first. Then, we’ll talk about how to fix this." He sits beside you, his hand never leaving yours. "We’re a team, okay? I’ll do better."

The8 (Minghao)

Minghao listens carefully, his expression thoughtful. He doesn’t interrupt once. "Thank you for telling me how you feel," he says calmly. "I didn’t realize how distant I’d been." He takes your hand and looks you in the eyes. "Let’s take a break together. A little escape. Just us." A couple of days later, you’re strolling through an art gallery, his fingers brushing yours every so often, a peaceful silence settling between you.

Seungkwan

"Oh no, no, no," Seungkwan says, his eyes already shining with tears. "You’ve been sad because of me?" He pulls you into a warm hug, patting your back soothingly. "I’m so sorry! That’s not okay. I’ll make it up to you." True to his word, the next day, you wake up to flowers, your favorite snacks, and a whole day of pampering. He won’t stop reminding you how much he loves you.

Vernon

Vernon’s quiet for a moment, thinking carefully before he speaks. "I’m really sorry you felt that way," he says softly. "I didn’t mean for work to take over." He gives you a shy smile and pulls you into a gentle hug. "Let’s set some time aside every week for just us, yeah? Like a standing date?" He’s already making a mental note to stick to it.

Dino

Dino’s eyes widen in shock. "You’ve been feeling like that? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?" He grabs both your hands and squeezes them tightly. "I’m so sorry. I’ll do better, I promise." He grins suddenly. "Let’s go out right now. Anywhere you want." Before you know it, you’re singing your hearts out at karaoke, laughing so hard it hurts, and feeling like the most important person in the world again.

#seventeen #svt #svt x reader #svt reactions #svt imagines #svt fluff

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leighsartworks216 · 2 days ago

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@comatosebunny09 I have been given more horny thoughts ;p

Imagine sending Sylus an audio message of you getting off. Your moans, whimpers, whines, gasps, cries of his name - all recorded and sent to him without any additional messages

He's at "work", in his office at the base, but he always answers your messages no matter what. So he pulls out his phone and sees the audio and raises a curious eyebrow. He doesn't click the transcription first. He just plays it aloud, thinking that you may have just gotten so excited about something, fully intending to listen to it while he finishes up whatever he's doing

Only to stop dead at the first sinful sound that slips through the speaker. Swearing under his breath as he closes his eyes and listens, imagining exactly what you're doing to yourself and palming himself through his pants. He tortures himself, keeps his cock tucked in his pants and never allowing himself to reach the edge for the entire duration of the message

As soon as it ends with a cry of his name from your lips, he's recording his own message, commenting on how much of a tease you are, how easy it is for you to affect him as he finally pulls his cock from his pants and jerks off, making sure you hear every thought he has as he imagines your mouth, your cunt, your ass around him instead of his hand

Breathlessly says he hopes you listen to this the next time you're alone and wanting him to fuck you, just like he's going to listen to yours. Cums into his palm with a guttural groan of your name and how good you are, how fucking perfect you are. A few seconds after where you just hear his heavy breathing and the wet sound of him stroking his spent cock with his own cum as lube

Sends the audio and types out a message with one hand, face still flushed:

"Tell me the next time you're thinking of me, kitten. I'll drop everything to be there with you"

#imagine just having a recording of his moans to listen to at any time #god i would never recover #sylus #love and deepspace #smut

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cloverapple · 12 hours ago

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How To Let Go

First things first; drop the idea that reading this will magically make you shift. If you’re here thinking “Oh, I’ll read this, I’ll let go, and then I’ll shift” stop! right! there! I know you want to shift, I know you want to get your desire, but you are missing the whole point of why you want to let go in the first place!

Second if all; there’s no one way to let go because there’s no one thing you’re letting go of. And that’s where most people trip up. You hear it everywhere:

”Just let go!”

“Release!”

“Detach!”

Like it’s some effortless switch you can flip on command regardless of how your unique mind works 😑

And then when you can’t, you start to feel like a failure, like you cannot accomplish this very basic thing that everyone seems to be doing so effortlessly.

Well my darling, listen to me: this is not your fault. You not being able to let go has nothing to do with how capable you are, how lucky you are, or how “primed” your mind is. None of that.

The mind fixates. That’s what it does. If shifting is a huge desire for you, you don’t just drop it overnight. If your DR is playing on a loop in your head, of course you’re going to latch onto it. If every time you go to bed, you secretly hope to wake up in your DR, your brain is still holding on. And yeah, it sucks. Because suddenly your dedication feels like a burden. You start asking “Why can’t I just let go? What’s wrong with me?”

Been there, felt that.

I’m going to tell you exactly why letting go is something anyone can do, and how you can start immediately—without the mental stress that usually comes with it.

But first, let’s clear something up: Letting go is not a quick fix for shifting. It’s not some miracle pill that guarantees success. For some people, yes, letting go is the missing piece. But for others, the real problem isn’t that they need to let go—it’s that they need trust and patience in themselves. And because they’ve been told that “letting go” is the thing to do, they beat themselves up for not being able to do it. When in reality, they were fine all along.

So first of all, figure out if letting go is what you actually need in your journey. If it's not, and you suddenly remember that you’ve found success while holding on, great! If not, let's move on.

So, what does “letting go” actually mean?

A lot of people hear it and think it means quitting, cutting shifting out of their lives, turning away from their DR, walking away completely. And yeah, that is one way to let go. But it’s not the only way. Let’s break it down the different ways there are to let go:

• Letting go of trying to shift – A.K.A what I talked about in this post. You still think of your DR, you still daydream, maybe you meditate at night with no intention to shift, you go about it like you already have it because you do. Stop it. Stop trying to shift.

• Letting go of expectation – You keep doing your methods, you stick to your routine, but you drop the pressure. No more “when will it happen?” You do it just because you enjoy it. You stop putting a deadline on shifting. You let go of when it will happen and just let it unfold.

• Letting go of your DR – You still shift, but you step back from your DR itself. Maybe you try a different DR for fun, maybe you explore WRs or fun, relaxing realities. You turn your focus elsewhere.

• Letting go of shifting itself – You stay in tune with expanding your awareness, but you do this by focusing on lucid dreaming, astral projection, or any other practice for a while. You take the pressure off shifting entirely by trying something new.

• The ‘fuck this shit’ mentality – You throw your hands up and stop giving a damn. Ironically, this one works better than you’d think.

• Letting go of perfection – You don’t need to do everything perfectly, follow every method flawlessly, or maintain some imagined “high vibrational state” 24/7. Stop striving for an ideal and just exist.

• Letting go of comparison – Stop looking at other people who claim to have shifted and measuring yourself against them. Their journey is not yours, and comparison only fuels frustration. Can you imagine driving your car, on the way to go pick up your brand new sport’s car, but you keep looking out the window because someone in the next lane is already driving a sport’s car?? YOU’RE GOING TO CRASH. EYES ON THE ROAD.

• Letting go of guilt – If you feel bad for not shifting yet, for wanting a break, or for feeling stuck, release that guilt. You don’t owe shifting anything. Shifting is you. You don’t owe yourself anything other than peace, trust and love.

• Letting go of attachment to results – Focus on the process rather than the outcome. Enjoy the journey, the experiences, and the growth that come with it. This is the thing I wish I knew at the very start of my journey, not because it would have made me shift faster, but because in hindsight, there’s so much fun in figuring out what works for you, discovering yourself, and the excitement pre-shifting to your DR.

• Letting go of fear – Fear of failure, fear of missing out, fear of doing something wrong, fear of shifting (which warrants another post in itself). Releasing fear allows for a more open, relaxed mindset.

• Letting go of overthinking and self-doubt – Stop analyzing every little thought, feeling, or experience. Your mind doesn’t need to be in constant problem-solving mode. You already know how to shift. You already have your desire/ your desire will manifest in the 3D. You are a creator. You are the god of your reality. If overthinking and stressing out solved anything, no one in the world would have problems.

• Letting go of rules – There are no strict guidelines for shifting. You don’t have to follow what someone else says. Make your own path.

But how do you actually let go?

When you let go, you do so from one of three places: peace, exhaustion, or indifference. To truly let go, you need to lean into one of these.

1. Peace – If what your mind craves is peace, you let go by accepting that your desires are either already yours or inevitably coming. You trust your ability to create and shift, so you stop chasing and start relaxing. Letting go from this state means stepping back, breathing easy, and knowing there’s nothing more you need to do—just be.

"Oh, easier said than done!" Yeah, that’s why we have the next two.

2. Exhaustion – If you’ve reached the point where you’re just tired, use it. Letting go through exhaustion means recognizing that you physically and mentally can’t keep stressing over this anymore. You’ve burned yourself out, and the only thing left to do is stop. Stop trying so hard, stop overthinking, stop forcing. Let yourself collapse into that exhaustion and let go because you have no energy left to hold on.

3. Indifference – This is the "fuck it" approach. Letting go through indifference means deciding that you simply do not care anymore—about shifting, about waiting, about the whole damn thing. Not in a bitter way, not in a frustrated way, just… whatever. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, you’ll be fine. You’ve got a life to live, and you’re not about to waste it worrying over something that isn’t here yet.

No matter which one you lean into, the result is the same: freedom. You stop gripping so tightly. You stop making shifting feel like a desperate struggle. And in that space—wherever you land—letting go happens naturally.

There’s no right or wrong way to let go

Think of it as a spectrum. You let go at your own pace, in a way that feels right for you. Because here’s the truth—holding onto your DR, staying in the cycle of frustration, it hurts. But it’s also comfortable. It’s familiar. And the mind loves familiarity.

Everyone has something different they need to let go of. For some, it’s their attachment to results. For others, it’s the pressure to be perfect. Maybe it’s the need to control the process or the fear of what happens if they succeed. Letting go isn’t a one-size-fits-all solution/It’s about recognizing what is keeping you stuck and unhappy, and making the conscious choice to release it.

So, instead of forcing yourself to drown in the ocean of your desire, because you thought throwing youself in would force yourself to know how to shift, just grab a floatie. You already know how to swim. You just have to remember, and until you do, relax and let go.

#reality shifting #shifting #shifting community #shifting blog #shifting motivation #shifting reality #permashifting #shifting methods #shiftblr #shifting antis dni #shifters #shifting tips

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heykaya · 2 days ago

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Happy to see you posting again!

Can I ask why Alex is your favorite?

hehe glad I was missed :3

Reasons I love Alex:

Gives you a job.

Gives you part of his farm.

Gives you a safe place to live and a room of your own, even before you romance him.

Will never rape you.

Will drop everything to run over and save you.

DOL-town royalty is threatening me (a teenager)? Lol let me tell Remy to fuck off.

Will also tell Bailey to fuck off to protect you, even to his own detriment.

Hard working and muscular.

Muscular.

Cooks you breakfast every morning, even at Max dom.

Gently bumps his head against yours.

Will spank you (at high dom).

Will eat you for breakfast (at low dom).

Scenic horse riding dates.

Smart enough to make drugs.

Comes from a family of farmers, still humble enough to listen to PC’s Tending tips.

Introduces you to his father who gives you $10k.

Actually has social skills and isn’t afraid to talk to people on the phone.

Is funny + can dance.

He’s such a good dad 😭

(Also I’m into that housewife tradlife thing. I used to go for Eden but he’s pretty boring tbh. Plus, Alex cooks you breakfast while Eden feeds you his leftovers. seriously wtf is up with that?!)

Like his dad says, he is dogged (super stubborn and persistent). PC has the option to stop Alex from being so fucking insane. Pulling him back from fighting a group of Remy’s goons, discouraging him from drinking so much and dealing drugs - they all reduce his Love. It doesn’t make him happy, but imo it’s what’s best for him. But since this is a game where even the bad ends are temporary, I join in on the crazy shit.

His biggest flaw is paying PC less at high dominance. I’m willing to overlook this because of the super hot spanking scene + you can make a shitload of money from the fields anyway. If he makes you mad you can call him a weak little bitch during encounters lol (his insecurity is strength).

Fr despite all of Alex’s abilities, I don’t think he’d be able to flourish and protect the farm from Remy without PC’s help. An orphan and a struggling farmer. One found a safe home and a family, the other made his dreams a reality. And together, they lived happily ever after :D

As happily as you can in DOL-town, at least.

(Also to comment on the others)

Robin:

Initially found him cute, but the more I got to know him the less I like him.

Literally PC's babies are less demanding than Robin.

Robin does not deserve confidence.

Whitney

The only thing he awakens in me is violence.

Dismissed every time no mercy gg

I agree he's super hot though. I'll enjoy him via fanart instead.

Eden

(see above)

Avery

He shows up once a week, gives me money, and fucks off. Very appealing!

I think he's OK. Just remember that he's incapable of truly loving PC.

As a source of income he's fine. As a lover no because of above + his dates are really repetitive.

Kylar

This guy should not be outside.

Sydney

He's very sweet and I get the appeal, but he's not my type.

#dol #degrees of lewdity #dol alex #alex the farmhand #eden the hunter #dol eden #dol sydney #sydney the faithful #sydney the fallen #dol kylar #kylar the loner #avery the businessman #dol avery #avery the businessperson #robin the orphan #dol robin #dol whitney #whitney the bully

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moeitsu · 2 days ago

Text

The Dark Tide Siren!Arthur Morgan x Reader Modern AU Ch 7 - Bound Beneath a Sirens Song Summary: With a storm looming on the horizon, the air crackles with an undeniable energy—every moment, every touch is charged like lightning waiting to strike. When Arthur invites you to take a swim, how could you possibly refuse? After all, it’s just a swim... what harm could come from that? wc: 11k tw: none! Swim Back! ↞ ﹏𓊝﹏ ↠ Sail Ahead!

AN: Longer chapter, got a little carried away. But reader finally gets to kissy on her fishy :3 (also like 80% of this takes place underwater, so pls don’t read too much into the logic of it)

tag list: @photo1030 @v3lv3tf0x @ireallyhonestlydontcare @shygamergirl01 @cloudywithachanceofcrisis @sevikaspuertoricanwife @abducted-cowz @ilovethatforyousworld @gatodebiquini @onyxlune @bomdada

I was searching for trouble and I knew it

The pull toward him was undeniable, like the tide dragging me into deeper waters, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to fight it. There were a thousand reasons why I should pack up my things and head home, but none of them were strong enough to make me leave. Every day, his voice echoed in the back of my mind, a secret siren song ringing in my ears, impossible to ignore.

I told myself this was an adventure—something new, something extraordinary. When in my life would I ever experience something like this again? But deep down, I knew it was more than that. He wasn’t just some fascinating creature to be studied, he was a person. A complicated, intriguing, wonderful person who had been through hell and somehow still found the strength to trust. Over the past week, I had watched him transform before my eyes, shedding his fear and anger like an old skin. Seeing that change unfold lit something warm and dangerous in my chest.

I knew I was going down with this ship, but I refused to raise the white flag in surrender.

Not when he had come so far. Not when I had seen the way his shoulders relaxed when he listened to Mary-Beth ramble about her favorite books, or how he watched Tilly’s hands with quiet fascination as she scribbled down notes and hypotheses, pausing only to tap her pen against her lip in thought. He was still wary of the men, his trust slower to form, but he was trying. And that effort—it meant everything.

Tilly pestered him with inquisitive, practical questions, always seeking to unravel the mysteries of his existence. She wanted to know what he remembered about his mother, about his people, about the depths of the ocean he had never been free to explore. She wanted to see his lights up close, to hear the cadence of his native tongue, to piece together the puzzle of his biology with a scientific curiosity. At first, Arthur was hesitant, his answers clipped, wary. But I was always there with them, and at times, it felt like he looked to me for permission. A gentle smile, a small nod, and his face would soften just slightly, his bioluminescence flickering to life.

It was as if I was telling him, Go ahead. You’re safe to be yourself here.

Mary-Beth, on the other hand, was smitten with his personality. She had a habit of chatting his ear off, switching from one topic to another with the ease of someone who never ran out of things to say. She talked about her love for writing, about her life back at college, and the not-so-secret crush she had on a certain fisherman at the facility. And Arthur—he listened. Really listened. He hung onto every word, his curiosity evident in the way he tilted his head, the way he asked his own questions. It was clear that as much as we were fascinated by him, he was just as eager to understand us.

And for the first time in his life, he was free to learn without the shadow of pain and fear looming over him.

It was the end of the week. The summer sun was sinking low in the sky, bathing the outdoor section of Arthur’s tank in molten gold. The facility had closed to the public not too long ago, and the girls would need to head home soon. The warm eastern wind carried the briny scent of the ocean, filling my lungs with something grounding, something familiar.

I, for one, did not plan on leaving with them.

There was a part of me that longed to dive into the unknown. To explore someone who, in ways I couldn’t yet explain, felt just a little bit like me. Every day, the pull had grown stronger, the ache sharper. I wasn’t sure if it was curiosity or something more—but tonight, I could no longer ignore it.

Mary-Beth was carefully braiding a section of Arthur’s sandy blond hair, her fingers moving with practiced ease as she wove small strands together. Arthur sat comfortably with his elbows resting on the platform, arms crossed as his long tail floated lazily in the water, the gentle sway of it almost hypnotic. Tilly, stretching her legs with a sigh, checked the time before nudging Mary-Beth.

“We better get moving. My mom doesn’t like when I’m late for dinner.”

Mary-Beth groaned dramatically, her lips forming an exaggerated pout. “Oh, come on, Tilly. It’s Friday! We’re young adults—we should be spending our weekends staying out late, having fun! Can’t we stay with Arthur a little longer?”

“Ouch, guess I’m just chopped liver,” I muttered with a laugh, shaking my head. Though, in truth, I didn’t really mind that they preferred Arthur’s company. Because it meant I got to spend time with him too.

Arthur chuckled, the deep sound vibrating through his chest as he gave them a reassuring smile. “It’s not like I’ll be going anywhere,” he said, amusement dancing in his glowing blue eyes. “We can pick up where we left off when you girls come back. Go home, get some rest—study up on those science books so you can teach this old fool some new tricks.” He added a playful wink, making Mary-Beth giggle as she gathered her things.

I stood as they did, walking them to the door, dragging my feet ever so slightly. The anticipation in my chest was a restless thing.

And then, finally—the door shut behind them with a heavy thud. Their footsteps echoed down the hallway, growing softer until they disappeared completely.

And just like that, it was just us.

Arthur and I.

This was what I had been waiting for all week—just a moment alone with him, without the others, without distraction. But now that it was here, now that the opportunity had fallen right into my lap, I wasn’t exactly sure what to do with myself.

I wanted to talk to him, to ask him questions, to know him in ways no one else had. But I had already spent every day listening to his stories, absorbing the pieces of himself he was willing to share with the others. And yet, there were still so many things I desired to know. More personal, more intimate details about his life that I had no business prying into.

I was so lost in my own thoughts that I barely registered the way Arthur tilted his head at me, eyes searching mine.

“You alright, darlin’?”

The smooth timbre of his voice pulled me back to the present, washing over me like the tide pulling in.

I blinked, offering a small smile. “Yeah, I was just thinking.” I hesitated for half a second before adding, “Mind if I hang out for a bit?”

His eyes lit up, and it wasn’t just the setting sun catching in the water.

“Sure,” he said, shifting slightly as he regarded me. “This ain’t gonna get you in trouble, though, right?”

He had a point. There was no reason for me to stay after hours. But surely, I wasn’t breaking any rules. Not really.

I smirked. “Only if I get caught.”

Arthur huffed out a laugh, the sound warm and familiar, as if we had known each other for years instead of days. I realized just how much I needed to know him. Not as some scientific marvel, not as a myth brought to life.

But as Arthur.

As I moved toward the edge of the ledge, letting my legs dangle in the water, Arthur followed without hesitation. It was as if we were tethered by some invisible thread, an unspoken pull drawing us together. He stopped just before reaching me, lingering in that space between caution and longing, his hesitation palpable. I could see the gears turning in his mind—how close is too close?

I reached out, offering my hand in a silent invitation. And when he took it, I felt the warmth of his palm against mine despite the coolness of the water. He pressed himself against my legs, his chest firm and solid, his heartbeat strong beneath my skin. Wet arms came to rest on my thighs, soaking through my shorts, but I barely noticed. The moment was too charged, too fragile, as his gills fluttered against my legs, I parted them slightly as if breathing him into my embrace.

He was so close now. Close enough that I could study every detail of his face—the faint scar hidden beneath his short beard, the dimple at the base of his nose, the way his lashes curled like delicate brushstrokes. Freckles dusted his cheeks and shoulders like constellations etched into his skin, mapping stories I would never fully know. His second eyelids, faint but visible, reflected the soft light filtering through the water, a feature evolved to protect his irises, and yet, he still looked at me with such openness. His lips were smooth, and when he parted them, I caught the glint of sharp teeth, a stark contrast to the tenderness in his gaze.

Content had settled over his handsome rugged features.

“Arthur.” His name slipped from my lips, quiet but sincere. And before I could stop myself, the question that had been lodged in my heart finally surfaced. “Are you happy here?”

I felt him tense, his body stilling against mine. He took a slow, measured breath, but there was no avoidance in his gaze, no flicker of hesitation. Only the truth.

“Happy is... a foreign word to me,” he admitted, his voice carrying the weight of a lifetime of uncertainty. “I like it here, but it’s not exactly what I’d call… home.”

The word sounded strange coming from him, like he was tasting it for the first time, unsure of its meaning. My chest ached.

“It’s a bit lonely when you’re all workin’,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “Quiet. But it’s a nice feelin’, like I can just be.” He shrugged, as if that small solace was enough, as if it didn’t matter.

A sigh escaped my throat before I could swallow it. “I’m sorry, Arthur, I wish there—”

“Don’t,” he cut in, his tone firm but not unkind. “You’ve got nothin’ to apologize for, sweetheart. You’ve given me more freedom than I’ve ever tasted in my whole miserable life.”

I smiled at that, but it was a poor attempt to mask the tightness in my chest. I wanted to do more for him. I wanted to erase every wound, every scar of his past. Show him true happiness, not just some artificial slice of freedom.

“Besides,” a slow, knowing grin tugged at his lips, revealing more of those sharp teeth. “If you had never brought me here, I never would’ve met you.”

His hand—webbed, calloused, yet impossibly gentle—lifted to my face, his fingertips tracing the curve of my cheek with aching reverence. Like he was afraid I might dissolve beneath his touch, fade into the air like seafoam.

“And I’m happy when I’m with you.”

The words settled between us, sinking into my bones, heavy and undeniable. I should have said something back. Should have acknowledged what was happening between us.

But I couldn’t. Because if I did, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to pull myself away.

Arthur held my gaze for what felt like an eternity, a storm of emotions swirling between us like the eye of a cyclone—hot and cold currents colliding, the pressure building, pulling us into a dance neither of us dared to break free from. It was unspoken, this tether between us, but I felt it with every pounding heartbeat, with every inch that closed between our bodies.

“Would you swim with me, my girl?”

My breath caught. The words barely registered, not because I hadn’t heard them, but because of the way he said them.

My girl.

It rolled off his tongue so effortlessly, like it was already a truth neither of us had acknowledged yet. My stomach twisted, and a rush of warmth bloomed across my cheeks under the golden light of the setting sun. Arthur watched me, eyes shimmering with mischief, but there was something else there too—something deeper, something that sent a shiver down my spine.

“S-swim?” I squeaked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Arthur chuckled, the sound low and rich, like I had just recoiled from something ridiculous—like he had asked me to eat a raw sea urchin instead of simply taking a swim. “Yeah. If you can ignore the sharks and stingrays, it’s practically paradise,” he teased, tugging at my hands as if I might just leap in fully clothed without a second thought.

The meaning of his request finally sank in. My pulse kicked up a notch. This wasn’t what I had planned when I stayed behind with him, wasn’t how I thought I’d fill my time. I had imagined more talking, maybe more of those easy laughs he shared with the girls. But this—this was something different. Something thrilling.

I’d be in the water with him. In his natural element.

A voice in the back of my head stirred, whispering a reminder of what Lenny had said about siren courtship. His bioluminescence, the purring, the gift-giving—he’s in mating season.

I shot those thoughts straight to hell.

This wasn’t about that. This was just swimming. Nothing more. Nothing dangerous. What harm could be done?

Right? Right.

A grin broke across my face, excitement bubbling in my chest as I practically sprang to my feet.

“I’ll go change into my wetsuit.”

* ‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊ *

I bounded down the corridor, my heartbeat matching the quick, eager rhythm of my steps. Excitement thrummed in my veins, bubbling up inside me until it felt like I might burst. This is happening. I could barely contain myself, giddy at the thought of what was to come. To see Arthur as he was meant to be—in the water, in his element. To watch the way the water broke for him, how effortlessly he moved, commanding the space with just the flick of his powerful tail. The thought sent shivers down my spine, a thrill unlike anything I had ever known.

I was so lost in the fantasy that I didn’t notice the electrical closet door swinging open until I nearly barreled straight into a solid chest.

“Woah!”

Hands gripped my shoulders to steady me, and I blinked up to find John staring down at me, brows raised in surprise. “Hey, uhm—didn’t realize you were still here…you going for a swim or something?” His gaze flickered down to my wetsuit, to the towel in my hands, then toward the hallway that led to Arthur’s tank. His expression shifted, concern knitting his features. “Shit, is Arthur alright? Did something happen?”

I let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head. Just like John to assume the worst. He always played it cool, pretended not to give a shit, but deep down, I knew better. The fool had a heart bigger than his ego—not that he’d ever admit it.

“Arthur’s fine,” I assured him quickly. “I’m just… going for a little swim. That’s all.”

John’s eyebrows shot up, but before he could grill me on why exactly I was voluntarily diving into the water with a half-siren, I cut in.

“What are you still doing here, anyway? You hate working late on Fridays.”

He sighed, exhaustion lacing his tone as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Hosea asked me to check on the generators. Since we got that big storm coming this weekend.”

Right. The hurricane. I had been so wrapped up in Arthur, in my own tangled emotions, that I had almost forgotten.

“Oh, right. Hurricane Eliza.” I rocked back on my heels, clutching the towel to my chest, suddenly feeling exposed. “I heard she’s gonna be a real beast.” I tried not to sound uninterested, but all I really wanted to do was turn back to Arthur.

John hummed in agreement, but his eyes lingered on me a beat too long, as if he could see straight through my flimsy attempt at nonchalance.

A quiet laugh rumbled from his chest. “Yeah, uh—I guess I’ll leave you to it then.”

He turned, heading back down the hallway, but not before shooting me that look. The one that said he wasn’t buying it.

“John! Uh…” I swallowed hard, nerves creeping back up my spine. Why did I feel like I was a child getting away with something? “Please keep this between us. I-I’m just—” I fumbled for the right words. Just what? Just going for a swim? Then why did it feel like I had been caught sneaking off to do something much more nefarious?

John smirked, dragging a finger across his lips like he was sealing them shut. “Your secret’s safe with me. Have fun with your shark boyfriend.”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “He’s not—”

John was already strolling away, ignoring my rebuttal. “If he tries anything, I’ll gut his ass personally,” he called over his shoulder, his voice echoing down the corridor.

I laughed, shaking my head. “Think I’ll take my chances, Marston. Seeing as you still can’t swim!”

Without turning around, he raised a middle finger in the air.

Grinning to myself, I clutched my towel a little tighter and turned toward the hallway that led to Arthur’s tank. My heart pounded for an entirely different reason now. This was finally happening.

The moment I stepped onto the platform, my heart clenched with a brief flicker of doubt. Would he still be as eager now that I was actually here? But before that worry could take root, the surface of the water broke, and Arthur emerged with effortless grace, resting his arms on the ledge like he had been waiting for me all night.

“Took you long enough,” he teased, his voice a low rumble beneath the gentle crashing of the waves beyond the facility. “Was startin’ to worry you changed your mind.”

I grinned, shaking my head as I tossed my towel onto a plastic chair. “Like I’d pass up this opportunity,” I mused, reaching for my flippers. “Spoke too soon about getting caught. Ran into John in the hallway.”

Arthur hummed in acknowledgment, but his attention was already elsewhere. I followed his gaze down to my feet, watching the way his expression softened with curiosity. Slowly, he reached out, his webbed fingers glistening under the golden light as they ghosted over my ankle.

I stilled as he lifted my foot slightly, his thumb brushing over the sharp ridge of ankle bone before gliding downward in a slow, deliberate motion. When the back of his claw traced up the arch of my foot, I couldn't help the quiet giggle that escaped me, my toes curling instinctively.

Arthur's eyes flicked up at the sound, his lips twitching with amusement before he focused back on my foot, turning it this way and that as if studying an artifact he couldn’t quite make sense of.

“Why do you wear these?” he asked, finally shifting his attention to the flipper I had yet to put on. He tapped the stiff rubber with his claw, brows furrowing.

I chuckled, slipping the other one on. “They’re flippers. I can’t swim like you do. My feet aren’t smooth or streamlined, and I don’t have the muscles like you.”

Arthur’s lips parted slightly as he mouthed the word to himself. “Flippers,” he repeated, testing the sound on his tongue before looking back at me. “So these make you more like me?”

His question sent a strange warmth through my chest. There was something so earnest in the way he asked, his fingers trailing along the length of the fin as if he were trying to understand what it meant for me to move through his world.

“Essentially, yes,” I murmured, a small smile playing at my lips. “They’ll help me keep up with you.”

Arthur let out an exaggerated snort, giving me a pointed look. “Darlin’, that’s a bold statement.”

Grinning, I kicked my foot out of the water, sending a spray into the air. He flinched slightly, watching the droplets rain down before glaring at the stiff black rubber with playful disdain.

“That’s just insulting.”

I laughed, adjusting the strap on my other flipper before sliding a pair of goggles over my forehead. Arthur cocked a brow, tilting his head as he eyed them.

“Ain’t even gonna ask,” he huffed, but then his tone shifted, growing more serious. “How long can you hold your breath?”

The change in his voice sent a shiver down my spine. The playful banter faded, replaced by something quieter—something deeper.

I swallowed, my fingers tightening around the edge of the platform. How long could I hold my breath? I was about to dive into his world, a place where he was strong, fast, in control. The thought sent my pulse skittering, but I forced a steady breath, meeting his gaze head-on.

“Less than a minute,” I admitted, though I knew it was probably closer to thirty seconds.

Arthur took in the information with a slow nod, his ocean-blue gaze flickering downward to the depths of the tank. The water reflected against his skin in shifting ribbons of light, making him look even more otherworldly. “Just stay close to me, alright?”

I didn’t need to be told twice.

Pulling my goggles over my eyes and nose, I inhaled deeply, letting my lungs expand before slipping off the ledge. The cool water embraced me instantly, a rush of sensation flooding my senses as the world above blurred into nothingness.

And then, through the clearing bubbles, there he was.

Arthur moved—no, glided—with an effortless grace that no human could ever hope to match. The full arc of his powerful tail cut through the water like a blade, propelling him forward with a strength that sent ripples cascading outward. The bioluminescent blues and purples that traced his scales shimmered like stardust, catching the fractured light that filtered down from above. His tail fin, a broad, elegant half-moon, unfurled behind him with each movement, undulating like the slow, hypnotic pulse of a jellyfish. The way it rippled through the currents, fluid and weightless, was mesmerizing—a dance like the ocean itself was draped in silk.

For the first time, I was seeing him as he was meant to be. Free. Powerful. Impossible. A gateway into a world unknown. He belonged to nobody, and no man.

His sandy blond hair drifted around his face in feathery strands, framing the rugged lines of his features, softening the sharp edges of his jaw and cheekbones. His gills flexed slightly, expelling a faint trail of bubbles as he moved, blending into the swirling currents. And then there was his smile—devastating, knowing, teasing. It was the kind of smile that made the world tilt, that made my stomach tighten with something warm.

He belonged here, in the water, in the vastness. And yet, as his ocean-blue eyes met mine, glowing faintly beneath the surface, I couldn’t help but feel that, somehow, in this moment—he belonged with me, too.

Arthur reached for me, and without hesitation, I took his hand.

Webbed fingers curled around mine, warm even in the cold water, and with the smallest tug, he guided me deeper. The tank transformed before my eyes—the artificial world of rock formations and coral structures now seemed vast and infinite from this new perspective. Schools of fish darted past us in flashes of silver, weaving effortlessly through the currents.

But I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

Arthur twisted effortlessly, rolling onto his back so he could watch me, his tail propelling him smoothly as I floated just above him. Watching me with that same toothy, teasing grin.

I kicked my feet, feeling the resistance of the water as my flippers sliced through it, but it was nothing compared to the sheer power he held in every movement. His tail moved in slow, deliberate strokes, adjusting his speed with fluent precision, allowing me to drift above.

I suddenly wished I had a tail like his—to feel the strength coiling in my muscles, to move through the water with that same primal ease. To command the currents as if they were an extension of myself. But I was clumsy in comparison, merely paddling while he swam with the mastery of something born from the deep. And yet, he didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he looked amused, watching me with a quiet adoration, like I was the marvel here—not him.

For the first time in my life, I felt truly weightless. Suspended in the water, drifting between reality and something almost dreamlike, I had never felt so free. Despite the vastness around us, Arthur was the only thing keeping me tethered.

Then my chest tightened. A sharp, familiar burn spread through my lungs. Shit. Has it been a minute already?

With my free hand, I pointed to the surface, signaling to Arthur that I needed air. But instead of guiding me upward, he pulled us deeper. My stomach dropped. A chill slithered down my spine as his grip on my hand remained firm. What is he doing?

I tugged, trying to free myself, but his hold only tightened. Panic began to set in, my heart hammering wildly in my chest. No… No, no, no! My limbs burned, my body screaming for oxygen. The water suddenly felt too thick, too heavy. It was crushing me, swallowing me whole.

He shook his head.

A bolt of horror shot through me. No? What the fuck do you mean, NO?!

Was this some kind of sick game? Had I been a fool to trust him? My mind raced with a thousand possibilities, each one darker than the last. What if I had just made a terrible mistake? What if everything we shared had been a lie? What if Arthur wasn’t what I thought he was?

Was he going to kill me? Am I going to drown?

Just as the last ounce of my strength gave way, just as I thought I was about to give in to the burning need to draw breath and fill my lungs with water, Arthur pulled me against his chest. I expected him to kick his tail sending us upward, to break the surface in a powerful burst. He had asked how long I could hold my breath, surely that wasn't to plan my demise in a timely fashion.

But instead, he did something I never could have anticipated.

His hands came up to cradle my face, his touch gentle even as I writhed against him. His bioluminescent veins pulsed with soft light, a delicate glow between us. His eyes, deep and steady, locked onto mine, silently urging me to trust him. But my mind was blind with panic, lungs burning as they gave out.

Then he leaned in and pressed his mouth to mine.

A kiss? Now? My mind screamed at me to pull away, to fight, to swim for the surface before it was too late. I felt it crawling under my skin, a desperate need for air or I was going to die!

I gasped but instead of choking, instead of water rushing into my lungs—

I breathed.

A rush of oxygen filled my chest, sharp and startling, like drawing the first breath of life. Arthur's lips parted against mine, his tongue slipping past in a way that was less about hunger and more about necessity. He was giving me his breath, sharing something vital and instinctual, something so intimate it sent a shiver down my spine and ignited each of my nerves in white hot fire.

I inhaled, my fingers digging into his shoulders as I clung to him, taking in the air he offered me in desperate, greedy gulps. My lungs burned, but not from lack of oxygen—it was the lingering ache of panic, the rawness of fear ebbing away, replaced by something deeper. Something calming.

Relief. Arthur never meant to let me drown. He was never going to harm me. I silently cursed myself for not trusting him. But this was something I never would have expected.

The rhythm came naturally after a few moments. A slow, controlled exchange. Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Arthur matched me, his chest expanding against mine, his gills flaring as he cycled the air between us. Drawing in enough breath for both our lungs. Somewhere in my frantic attempt to survive, my goggles had been pulled off, floating aimlessly somewhere behind me.

Now, nothing separated us. No barrier, no confusion. Just the warmth of his lips and the steady strength of his body as he held me in place. His breath kissing every pore.

My arms wound around his neck instinctively, fingers tangling in his billowing hair. I could feel the powerful ripple of his muscles as he kept us suspended in the water, his tail moving in slow, effortless sweeps. His veins pulsed softly beneath his skin, casting an ethereal glow between us. It was mesmerizing, hypnotic even.

I consumed him like a fire that devours, drawing him in deeper. Seizing his lifeforce. Claiming it as my own. Taking.

The air he breathed into me was unlike anything I had ever tasted. It was liberating, pure—like petrichor. When the earth is warm with rain-soaked soil after a summer storm. Rich and electric and unmistakably him. It filled every aching part of me, chased away the fear, replaced it with something that left me dizzy.

This wasn’t just survival. This was something else entirely.

Arthur wasn’t just giving me air—he was threading himself into the very fabric of my being.

With every inhale, he poured into me like the tide rushing into a hollowed-out cave, filling the spaces I didn’t even realize were empty. A piece of him—vast, ancient, and arcane—flooded through my heart, echoing through its chambers, coursing through my veins in a heady, intoxicating rush. It curled into the hollows of my lungs, wove through the sinew of my muscles, and settled deep into my skin. Clinging to me like the saltwater after it dries.

It wasn’t just breath. It was him.

He invaded me, not with force, but with something far more meaningful—an offering, a communion. A sacrifice. Reaching inside me his presence wrapped around my very cells, touching every inch of me in ways I had never imagined. It was like swallowing starlight, like sinking into the depths of the ocean and becoming part of it, losing myself to something endless and infinite.

I felt the ocean’s pulse, a steady rhythm thrumming through me. It was life, boundless and eternal. And gods above, it was mighty.

With each exhale, he didn’t pull away—he gave as much as I would take. As much as I needed to calm my thundering pulse. Traces of him held me, saturating my body with something more than air. He left himself in the marrow of my bones, in the pulse of my wrists, in the spaces between each heartbeat.

I was no longer just breathing. I was becoming.

Somewhere in the tangled mess of our situation, I hadn’t noticed Arthur bringing me back to the surface. When we finally broke through, the rush of cool ocean air kissed my cheeks, sending a shudder through me. I felt like I had just stolen something forbidden, something ancient—like I had partaken in a divine secret that was never meant for human hands. As if I had slipped past the gods unnoticed, grasping at eternity, daring to hold onto something beyond biology, beyond comprehension.

And still, despite the overwhelming weight of what had just happened between us, my instincts took over. I gasped for breath, gulping down fresh air, grounding myself in reality—even as I mourned the loss of that impossible intimacy. I pushed myself back onto the platform, slumping onto my back with a heavy huff, my limbs trembling from the lingering adrenaline. I barely registered Arthur rising beside me, his own chest rising and falling in deep, measured breaths.

Poor thing. I really did steal the breath from his lungs. Literally.

The thought sent a dizzy rush through me. Had I gotten too carried away? Had I taken too much? I wasn’t even sure what too much meant in this situation. My mind reeled as I tried to make sense of it, to unravel the impossibility of what we had just shared.

“Holy shit,” I exhaled, still trying to steady my racing heart. “Arthur, why didn’t you tell me you could do that? I thought you were trying to drown me!”

I pushed up onto my elbows, my gaze locking onto his face as he hovered in the water between my legs. He looked just as disoriented as I felt, the glow in his veins pulsing slow and steady, like the aftershocks of something neither of us could fully comprehend. He blinked up at me, his gills fluttering slightly as if he was still catching his breath, too.

“M’sorry,” he murmured, his voice softer now, more careful. “I asked how long you could hold your breath… I—I thought you knew what I was doin’. I never meant to scare ya, sweetheart.”

His eyes held nothing but sincerity, and yet I still couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“How the hell was I supposed to know that?” The words came out sharper than I intended, my emotions still tangled up in the lingering panic.

Arthur flinched—not physically, but I saw the way something in him pulled back, just slightly. The guilt in his expression sent a pang of regret through my chest. He truly hadn’t meant to frighten me.

“I thought humans did it all the time,” he admitted, scratching at the back of his head. “I’ve seen ‘em press their mouths together, sharin’ breath. Never really understood why, though… Since you’ve got plenty of it up here.” He waved a webbed hand through the air as if the concept itself was baffling to him.

This caught my attention. I stared at him, dumbfounded, my heart giving an odd little stutter. Oh, Arthur. I sat up fully now, moving closer to the edge as his words sank in. He’d seen humans do it before? It took a moment for it to click, for realization to dawn over me like the slow crest of a wave. Oh. He’d seen humans kiss.

“Oh, honey, that’s not—” I hesitated, rubbing my temples with a sigh. How the hell do I even explain this to him? “It’s not the same when humans do it,” I tried again, my voice softer now. “We’re not actually sharing breath. Not like that… not like what we just did.”

Arthur tilted his head, his brows knitting together in confusion. He was trying to understand, I could see that much, but I was probably upending his entire perception of human behavior in real-time.

“Then… why do you do it?”

I let out a slow breath, trying to piece it together in a way that made sense. “It’s called kissing. It’s a way humans express affection. Like a silent conversation… a way to say things without words—like ‘I care about you,’ or ‘I want to be close to you.’” My fingers curled against the damp fabric of my wetsuit. “When two people press their mouths together, they’re sharing a connection, and sometimes…” My voice faltered, realization creeping up on me as the words formed on my tongue. Gods above. It hit me that we had just done practically the same thing. “...sometimes even a little piece of their soul.”

Arthur was completely still. His eyes, dark and fathomless, locked onto mine like the pull of the tide, widening ever so slightly as his pupils expanded. A shiver ran through me, the weight of his gaze so intense it felt like he could see straight into my core.

Then, as if drawn by some unseen force, he moved closer.

The water rippled gently around his body, his movements slow, deliberate. He mirrored the way we had sat together earlier, but this time, he braced his hands on either side of me, his arms caging me in a way that sent a deep warmth curling in my stomach. The space between us was nonexistent, the air suddenly thick, charged with something I couldn’t quite name.

“Kissing…” Arthur repeated the word, barely more than a murmur, tasting it on his tongue.

I could almost see the gears turning in his mind, the way he was processing everything I’d just said. And I knew, with startling certainty, that he was thinking the same thing I was.

What we shared underwater… was far deeper, far more intimate than any human kiss could ever be.

“Yes, kissing.” My voice came out softer than I intended, and I swallowed against the sudden tightness in my throat. Fuck, why did I feel so nervous? He was so close I could taste the salt on his breath, feel the warmth radiating from his skin despite the cool water between us. Those deep, knowing eyes never left mine, watching me like he could read every thought flickering through my mind.

“Th-there’s many different ways to kiss,” I went on, my voice betraying my nerves. Why the hell am I even telling him this? “It’s not always on the lips. You can kiss pretty much anywhere on the body.”

His pupils dilated slightly, the dark pools nearly eclipsing the striking blue of his irises. “Anywhere?” His voice had dropped an octave, rougher, like sea water pulling back before a crashing wave.

I nodded, feeling heat creep up my neck. “And it’s not always between partners. Parents kiss their children, relatives kiss their loved ones, some people kiss their pets.” My fingers fidgeted, he was so close now I could feel the smoothness of his chest as he drew breath. “You can even blow a kiss.”

Arthur’s brow furrowed slightly, his expression shifting from something unreadable to pure confusion. “Why would someone do that?”

A soft giggle bubbled up my throat, his curiosity catching me off guard in the best way. “People do it when they’re beyond each other's reach. A way of sending your affection through the air.”

Feeling emboldened, I reached for his hand—broad, webbed, strong but gentle beneath my touch. His skin was cool and smooth, glistening in the fading light. Slowly, I lifted his arm and guided the back of his hand toward my lips.

“When you blow someone a kiss, you have to bring it to life before letting it go,” I explained, my voice barely above a whisper. Then, without breaking eye contact, I pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to the wet space of his palm, exaggerating the smacking sound just enough to tease him.

Arthur went completely still.

I felt the tension coil in his muscles, the way his fingers twitched slightly against my own. When I pulled away, my eyes flickered to his face—and oh. His cheeks were tinted a deeper shade of pink, a faint but undeniable flush creeping along his cheekbones. Was he… blushing?

I bit my lip, suppressing a grin as warmth curled in my chest. I had just made him blush.

Arthur blinked, looking between his hand and my face like he was trying to make sense of what had just happened, like he was trying to feel something beyond the physical sensation lingering on his skin.

“There,” I said proudly, admiring my work as if I had just painted something delicate and unseen across his palm. “Now, you blow it away.”

I gently turned his hand toward the ocean, the sky now fading to a deepening indigo as the sun traded shifts with the moon. The first stars flickered to life above us, their distant glow reflecting in the water, shimmering against Arthur’s iridescent skin. Then, slowly, I blew on his palm, a soft breath carrying the invisible gift away.

Arthur inhaled sharply. His gills flared at the gesture, pulsing with some unspoken emotion.

I released his hand, but instead of pulling away, he brought it to my face. A breath hitched in my throat as the rough pad of his thumb traced over my bottom lip, dragging slowly, reverently. The touch was featherlight, but I felt it everywhere.

His fingers trembled slightly. His eyes burned with something deeper than curiosity now—an insatiable hunger, a deep, aching longing.

I heard him swallow before he spoke, his voice barely rising above the whisper of the roaring waves, rich and weighted, like he was holding himself back. “…and where does the kiss go?”

The words rolled over me, sweeping me into the depth of his need. Arthur’s gaze searched mine, pupils blown wide, his entire body coiled with restrained tension. We were already so close that I could feel the warmth of his breath, hear the tremble in his voice.

“To someone you love.”

It mattered little to me which one of us closed the distance—only that we did. The moment our lips met, the world fell away, as if time itself had paused to bear witness. The moon, ever watchful, seemed to still the tides, holding her breath in quiet admiration, offering her silent blessing.

Arthur kissed me with an aching slowness, as if savoring something precious, something fragile. His lips were warm, firm but yielding, and impossibly gentle. Nothing like before—when he was breathing life into me. No, this was different. This was the slow unraveling of restraint, the surrender to something we had long denied. The intertwining of unspoken desire, of aching need.

The ship was sinking. And I finally raised the white flag.

A shiver ran through me as I brushed my tongue against the fullness of his bottom lip, teasing, testing. He groaned—a deep, guttural sound that sent heat pooling low in my belly—and parted his lips for me.

The first stroke of his tongue against mine was devastating, deliberate, and utterly alien. Silken and warm, but textured—each ridge on the top of it dragged against my own, sending sharp, electric pulses straight down my spine. It was longer than I expected, sinuous and impossibly agile, exploring me with a slow, unrelenting hunger. I gasped into his mouth as he curled it against the roof of mine, the friction sending a deep, aching thrill through my body.

He tasted of salt, like the sea breeze just before a storm, rich and heady with something darker beneath—the faint scent of musk, the wild pull of him. My fingers reached up around his neck, one hand cradling his jaw. Desperate to keep myself tethered as I drowned in the sensation of him, the way he felt—all sharp edges and smooth restraint, barely contained.

Arthur kissed like he knew what his touch did to me, like he had been waiting to unravel me, to steal the breath from my lungs and make it his own.

And I let him. I let him take me.

The soft bristle of his beard scraped against my skin, leaving a tingling warmth in its wake, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. His fingers skimmed my waist, pressing just enough to anchor me, as if afraid I might slip away.

All I could taste was him. All I could breathe was him. Arthur, steady and unshakable, yet trembling with want. The only thing that mattered in this moment was us.

I didn’t need to open my eyes to see the glow of his bioluminescence. Its colorful shimmer lit up the space between us, painting the darkness behind my eyelids in swirls of deep indigo, flickering like a living halo.

The heat of his body pressed against mine, damp and feverish, as he surged forward, rising from the water.

The platform was firm beneath me as he eased me down, his weight settling just enough to trap me beneath him. Then, suddenly, I felt it—before I even heard it. A low, resonant purr, vibrating deep in his chest and pouring into mine, rattling through my ribs like the hum of something ancient, something meant to lure and ensnare.

And like the vibration of his purr I could feel the need exuding off him in waves.

His lips crashed against mine, no longer gentle but desperate, fevered. His tongue, ribbed and serpentine, curled around mine, stroking, caressing, dragging across every sensitive nerve like he wanted to learn me by touch alone. The sensation sent a sharp pulse of need straight to my core. I moaned into his mouth, but he swallowed the sound, pressing closer, devouring me with each frantic kiss.

His bioluminescence pulsed in time with his heartbeat, casting a rhythm of shifting blues and purples against my skin. His fingers, slick with seawater, traced up my sides, leaving a cool trail that burned in contrast to the heat pooling between us. I wrapped my legs around him as strong hands curled against my waist, squeezing the tender soft flesh.

Powerful hips rutted against mine, the hard press of something unmistakable beneath his scales sent a shudder through me. Mixed with the slick proof of his arousal, the sensation was maddening. And I had no doubt he could smell my own—if not taste it.

The kiss turned messy, wet, tongues tangling in a frantic battle for dominance neither of us cared to win. My nails scraped against his shoulders, feeling the shifting muscles beneath his damp skin, and his purr deepened—a growl mixed with something more animalistic. He nipped at my bottom lip, tugging just enough to make me whimper, then soothed the sting with another slow, dragging stroke of his tongue.

I was drowning in him, in the salt, the heat, the way he tasted like the storm rolling in over the horizon. His hunger was intoxicating, and I met it with my own, chasing every kiss, every desperate movement.

Breath became an afterthought and the only thing that mattered to me was more.

We lay together like this for what felt like eternity, our breaths mingling in the humid air, bodies still pressed close, reluctant to part. My fingers traced lazy circles over the damp skin of his back, memorizing the ridges and dips of muscle beneath the glow that pulsed gently through his veins. Every flicker of light felt like a whisper, a secret between us.

And then he pulled away. I whimpered softly at the loss, my body instinctively arching toward him, unwilling to break the connection. A shimmering string of saliva still tethered us before he reached up, swiping his thumb over my swollen lips, his touch almost possessive.

His sapphire eyes—drowning in pools of endless black—studied me like I was something holy, something to be worshiped. His pupils had expanded so wide they reflected the moonlight itself, making him look less like a man and more like something wild that had crawled out of the deep to claim me.

He leaned in, breath warm against my ear, voice a low, husky murmur. "Did I do good?"

The words alone were enough to make me tremble, but then he nipped at the shell of my ear, his sharp teeth scraping before soothing the sting with the soft press of his lips.

I could hardly form a thought, let alone a coherent answer. His mouth was relentless, lips dragging over my throat, finding sensitive spots with an infuriating precision, nipping and sucking until I was gasping, grasping at his shoulders like they were the only thing keeping me tethered to reality. My wetsuit suddenly felt suffocating, unbearable. If he didn’t stop, I would shed it and take him right here, consequences be damned. It hardly mattered if our bodies could even fit—all that mattered was the heat, the need, the way he was unraveling me with every touch.

"Good—" I managed, the word rasping from deep in my throat, thick with want. "Doesn’t even begin to describe it. There are no words, Arthur. That was—"

He whispered something against my skin. A soft murmur, thick with devotion.

It made me pause. Whatever he said wasn’t English, and it certainly wasn’t human. The sound was rough, like the shifting of stones against the ocean floor, but it carried a melodic cadence, a fluidity that sent a shiver rolling through me.

I pushed myself up onto my elbows, my pulse hammering as I searched his face. "What do those words mean?"

Arthur slowly eased himself off me, sliding back into the water with a grace that reminded me he was not just a man. He belonged to the sea, to something vast and untamed, yet here he was, staring at me like I was the only thing anchoring him to this moment.

I followed him to the edge, pausing as my fingers hovered above the water.

He said the words again, softer this time.

"It has a few meanings," Arthur admitted, his gaze sweeping over my face, studying me with the quiet intensity of a painter capturing his muse. His throat tightened around the words, as if it hurt to speak. "My Ma used to say it to me when I was a kid, before I was taken."

I swallowed thickly as he held my gaze, and then he spoke the translation, each word sinking into my chest like a vow, like a promise meant only for me.

"My hearts will follow you to the end. Into every horizon."

Giving me little time to react, Arthur wrapped his strong arms around my waist and pulled me back into the dark waters. The shock of it stole my breath, the sudden cool embrace of the salt water wrapping around me like silk. The only light was his pulsing glow, shifting hues of deep indigo and soft cerulean, casting shimmering patterns against my skin. Above us, the stars blinked in quiet witness, scattered across the sky like tiny echoes of his bioluminescence that flickered beneath the waves.

I looked down, my breath hitching. The water was so dark now I could barely see the tips of my toes. An endless unknown stretched beneath me, and for the first time, I felt the tendrils of fear creeping in. My pulse pounded against my ribs, instinct screaming at me to retreat, to find solid ground.

But then I remembered his words. What they meant. What they implied. There was no turning back. I was being carried on the wind, letting the current take me where I needed to go. All I had to do was trust him.

Tentatively, I wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling the way his body moved against mine—fluid, effortless. It was like he could sense my hesitation, my uncertainty, because before I could voice it, he pulled me closer.

"Arthur…"

His warmth was a stark contrast to the cool water, his broad chest expanding with each measured breath. I could feel the steady exhale from his gills as they brushed against my thighs, sending a strange, almost soothing sensation through me. He held me tight, one strong arm wrapped securely around my waist, keeping me anchored to him, to this moment.

"There’s something I want to show you," he murmured, his voice low and steady, the promise of something unknown lingering in his tone.

"But… I—I can’t—" My throat tightened, the weight of the ocean pressing around us, reminding me of my limits. I wasn’t like him. I couldn’t breathe down there.

Arthur didn’t even let me finish the thought.

"Hush, darlin’," he soothed, his lips grazing the shell of my ear before pressing against my temple. His voice was a whispered vow, a quiet command laced with reassurance. "Let me be your breath."

Before I could protest, he sealed his lips over mine, the kiss deep and consuming, and I felt it—his breath flowing into me, warm and intoxicating. A strange sensation, like the ocean itself had bent to his will, filling my lungs with something alive.

And just like that, the fear ebbed away.

* ‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊ *

It took a few tries to get used to Arthur breathing into my lungs. At first, it felt unnatural, like my body was rejecting the very thing keeping me alive. My nervous heart devoured each breath like a greedy little sea snake, twisting around my chest, tightening, constricting. But Arthur was patient. He never seemed to mind.

I tried to hold it longer, to prove I could endure, but it was as if he could sense my discomfort before I even knew it myself. He never let it reach the point where panic crept in, never let my lungs burn from the inside out. The moment he sensed my struggle, his strong fingers would find my chin, tilting my face toward his. And then, with a quiet kind of reverence, he would seal his lips over mine and breathe life into me.

And, like before, he was never the first to pull away. Arthur let me take as much air as I needed, as many breaths as it took to steady the wild thunder of my pulse. There was no impatience, no frustration—only trust. A trust unlike anything I had ever known.

I was completely and utterly at his mercy.

The water was darker than I had ever seen it. A thick, endless abyss stretching in every direction, swallowing everything beyond the faint glow of the facility’s underwater lights. They cast eerie, shifting beams, just enough for monitoring water levels, but not enough to truly see what lurked in the depths.

And there was so much lurking.

Every creature we passed seemed to materialize from the void, slipping through the water like ghosts from a world I was only beginning to understand. I knew these animals, had studied them, cared for them. But here, under the shroud of darkness, they felt different. Unfamiliar. As if I were a trespasser in their domain.

A particularly curious stingray drifted above us, its broad body gliding effortlessly through the water. I looked up—and nearly choked on my own scream.

The pale, ghoulish underside of its body loomed above me, its strange, human-like mouth and vacant eyes staring down with an uncanny, haunting expression. My body acted before my mind could catch up—I jerked violently, nearly kicking Arthur square in the chest, my limbs flailing in pure, unfiltered panic.

Once again, he calmed me with his breath. His warmth spread through me, steadying the frantic rhythm of my heart, and I felt it—the quiet shake of his chest, the vibration of something light, and effortless. Laughter. It bubbled up his throat, muted by the water, but I felt it, a tingling hum against my lips before we pulled away.

His fingers found my wrist, strong yet careful, guiding my hand upward. With a slow, deliberate touch, he traced his thumb along my palm, unfurling my fingers one by one.

The stingray hovered just above us, its massive wings rippling like silk through the water. And then, with a slow, ghostly glide, it brushed its velvety skin over the tips of my fingers. Like a whisper, like a greeting.

I had touched stingrays before, plenty of times in the shallow touch-tank, where children giggled and splashed, reaching out to feel the slippery softness of their skin. But never like this. Never in their world, where the touch was theirs to give. It wasn’t me reaching out—it was them, exploring me.

He lifted his hand in front of me, and what he did next sent warmth blooming deep in my belly. With deliberate care, he hooked our index fingers together—a silent sign, one I recognized instantly. Friend.

My chest tightened at the realization. Not only had Arthur remembered that fleeting moment we shared when he was bleeding out on the beach, but he had learned the gesture. He had taken it as his own, stored it away like something precious, something worth keeping.

A lump formed in my throat, but I swallowed it down, curling my finger a little tighter around his.

I made a quiet promise to teach him more later.

Arthur pulled me forward, guiding me through a submerged tunnel. The familiar structure clicked in my mind, recognition settling in my bones. We were entering the back section of the tank—the place away from prying eyes, from tourists pressing their faces against glass. This was his sanctuary. Where he spent his time when he wasn’t with me or the girls.

Curiosity sparked in my chest. What does he want to show me down here?

We swam deeper, the water thick with shadow, but I trusted his grip, the steady pull of his hands as he led me forward. And then, nestled within the rock and kelp, I saw it.

A small cave. A hidden space tucked away in the depths of the tank. I wasn’t sure how I knew—but I did. This was where he slept.

Something about it felt lived in, personal. The flattened kelp was arranged in a circular shape, almost like a nest. It wasn’t just a hiding place. It was his. I could picture him here, curled up in the quiet dark, unguarded, safe. For the first time since I had met him, I wondered what it felt like for him to rest. Unguarded, unshackled, away from cold prying eyes. To just be.

Arthur pulled me inside, his arm wrapping instinctively around my waist as his bioluminescence flared to life. Light bloomed from his skin, illuminating the space in shifting blues and purples, and what I saw nearly stole the breath from my lungs.

The rock-like walls were etched with various drawings, their rough surfaces covered in markings that varied in detail and size. Some depicted the sea life he shared the tank with—familiar outlines of stingrays, sharks, seals and fish. Others were delicate sketches of underwater plants, their flowing tendrils stretching across the stone like living things.

Curiosity tugged at me, pulling me away from Arthur’s side. I swam closer, reaching out to trace my fingers over the carvings. The grooves were deep, uneven, reminding me of ancient cave drawings. He must have used his claws, carefully etching each image into the stone, leaving behind proof of his existence in this lonely place.

Behind me, Arthur was searching for something, his large hands sifting through layers of kelp. He reached beneath the safety of his makeshift bed, pulling out something dark and solid. But my attention was still on the walls, my heart hammering as I took in every detail of his underwater art.

Then, Arthur waved a hand, pulling me from my trance. I turned to him just as he pointed toward the farthest side of the cave.

And I released my breath.

There, among the sketches of fish and plants—was me.

It was a simple drawing, lacking the fine details of his other works, but it didn’t matter. With the rough material he had to work with, it was still a masterpiece. My heart ached at the sight of it, at the thought of him carving me into the walls of his world.

But it was what he did next that truly unraveled me.

Arthur lifted a webbed palm to his lips, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to his skin. Then, with a small smile, he released a stream of bubbles toward the drawing—just like I had taught him. An expression of affection, a gesture so sweet it made my chest tighten.

I could have kissed him right then and there. Well, I tried to.

But this gentle giant, ever concerned for my well-being, misunderstood my intent. The moment our lips met, he must have thought I was seeking air. He held me there for a breath longer, and though I wished I could stay pressed against him forever, he was already wrapping a strong arm around my waist, propelling us forward with effortless strength.

I barely had time to process what had just happened before we were darting out of the cave, leaving the warmth of his sanctuary behind.

Arthur still held something tightly in his other palm, and as he guided me through the darkened waters, I realized we were heading somewhere new.

The temperature dropped, the light fading into near blackness.

The deep sea exhibit.

Once we reached a spot he found satisfactory, we floated in utter stillness. The silence of the deep pressed around us, thick and all-encompassing, making me acutely aware of my own heartbeat thrumming in my ears. The nerves crept up my spine again, cold and slithering.

It was pitch black.

I couldn’t see my own hands in front of me, couldn’t even make out Arthur’s features except for the faintest shimmer of his dimmed bioluminescence. He was holding back, keeping his glow subdued, and I had no idea why.

Why did he bring me here?

Then, all at once, his light flared to life.

The sudden brilliance stunned me, a galaxy of blues and purples bursting from his skin like a supernova in the dark. But it wasn’t just him, his radiance set off a chain reaction.

And the void around us moved.

At first, I thought it was my eyes playing tricks on me, but then I saw them—hundreds of creatures emerging from the abyss, answering his call.

Arthur was a beacon, and the deep-sea life responded to him like moths to a flame. Lanternfish flickered in and out of sight, their tiny lights winking like stars in the midnight ocean. Jellies pulsed with ghostly luminescence, their delicate tendrils undulating as they drifted past. Squid, cuttlefish, sea angels—so many creatures I couldn’t begin to name—came to life before my eyes, weaving in and out of the glow like spirits caught between worlds.

They surrounded us in a slow, mesmerizing dance, silent sentinels bearing witness to whatever was about to unfold.

And at the center of it all was him.

Arthur’s radiance was breathtaking, his skin an ever-shifting nebula of color and light. But it wasn’t just his appearance that captivated me—it was the way the ocean responded to him, how it bent to his presence, how even the wildest, most elusive creatures drifted close as if he were something sacred.

He was neither fully man nor entirely mythical. He was something else entirely.

Something that felt indescribable. And in that moment, in the hush of the deep, I understood this pull toward him for what it truly was.

Love.

The solid object he had brought with him turned out to be a large oyster shell, its rough surface barely catching the faint, shifting glow of his bioluminescence. Holding it steady in one hand, he traced a pointed claw along its lip, prying it open with slow, practiced ease.

I watched him with quiet reverence as his fingers slipped inside, moving carefully, deliberately, as if retrieving something precious. When he finally pulled his hand free, his fingers curled tightly around whatever lay within—his fist closing around it with such purpose that my breath crawled up my throat.

A pearl. It had to be.

The empty shell drifted downward, spiraling slowly to the bottom of the tank, forgotten. Arthur didn’t watch it sink. His full attention was on me.

His hands found mine, and the moment our fingers met, my pulse thundered. Heat raced through my veins, my entire body suddenly hyper aware of the weight of the moment, of the way the water seemed charged around us. Before I could even find the words to ask what he was doing, his hand rose, his palm pressing gently against the curve of my neck.

Then, he breathed into me. Warmth spread through my lungs, steadying me, grounding me, but this time, it felt different. Because when he pulled away, his lips still so close I could feel the lingering press of his breath—his mouth moved.

Arthur was speaking. The realization sent a shiver rolling through me. And then I heard it.

His voice.

It was nothing like the deep, gravelly tone I knew from above water. Here, in his element, it was something else entirely.

A melody.

A song, resonant and fluid, shifting in pitch like the ebb and flow of the tide. It wasn’t just words—it was music, a chorus of sound that wrapped around me, kissed the deepest parts of me. It filled my chest, soaked into my bones, made my skin hum with the rhythm of it.

It was haunting. And heavenly.

Tears pricked at my eyes. I didn’t even understand the words, but I felt them. Like a current pulling me deeper, like a promise whispered between waves. And in that moment, I knew—he wasn’t just speaking.

He was singing to me.

Arthur opened his palm, revealing the pearl nestled against the warm glow of his skin. Its milky-white surface shimmered beneath the shifting blues and purples, catching the light like a tiny piece of the moon itself.

A gift. For me.

My heart thundered, a deep, resounding pulse that seemed to echo through every fiber of my being. My mind raced, recalling everything I had learned about his kind—about the significance of this. Gift-giving was a siren’s way of accepting courtship, of expressing mutual desire, a bond far deeper than mere affection.

Did sirens mate for life? Could they have more than one? Am I his first?

Why, of all creatures, did Arthur choose me?

The questions crashed over me like waves against the shore, relentless and unyielding. But then I looked at him. And every uncertainty melted away.

His gaze, luminous and breathtaking, held nothing but certainty. The sweetest smile tugged at his lips, his blue eyes alive with glowing radiance. There was no hesitation, no doubt in his expression. Only him—only us.

His lips moved again, shaping the words I now recognized, a melody that sent warmth cascading through me.

My hearts will follow you to the end.

Emotion swelled in my chest, thick and all-consuming. I reached for him, wrapping my fingers around his, closing the pearl between our palms—sheltering it, protecting it. Safe from the darkness of the tank, from the weight of the unknown, from all the uncertainties that once held me back. It was ours now, cradled between our touch, a silent vow sealed in the space where our hands met.

Arthur had brought light into my life, breath into my lungs, and adventure into my soul.

And as I pressed my lips to his, I knew—I would follow him too.

Into every horizon.

AN: Listen, lets just ignore the fact that aquarium tanks are absolutely NOT built like this. And we’re also gonna pretend that the reader can see underwater bc I forgot to add the goggles. OH WELL. We're getting creative. With the way everything is going, I'm hoping that the reader gets to fuck her fish man (husband) by chapter 9. YOU GO GIRL!

Also enjoy these inspo pics from that last scene. Utterly gorgeous creatures!! (CR to frida.yolotzin on instagram!)

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #ao3 fanfic #arthur morgan x reader #red dead fandom #arthur morgan x you #ao3 #monster x human #monster romance #monster au #siren x reader #siren au #rdr2 modern au #arthur morgan smut

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