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#if i see one i’ll fix it later
crowhunterzz · 2 months
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i know it’s been said on here plenty of times but i genuinely get so upset when i see people continuously perpetuate the whole “Gehrman’s a creep and the Doll is a sex object theory” when there’s an actually direct in-game evidence showing that none of that is true. and yk what despite the posts abt this that already exist i am, in fact, gonna make one of my own.
Okay so first off, The Voiceline. You know the one.
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Yeah this line got interpreted by a portion of the fandom as weird, especially because of the tone it’s said in. However, there are two pieces of context that immediately show what he meant by this.
The first, is that you DO use the Doll. She provides a service for you by taking your blood echoes and turning them into your strength (the level up system).
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Aside from this, the ability to talk to her, and the option of giving her an item, there is nothing else you can do with her, and nothing else the game even implies you can do with her. She does not even have any truly “romantic” dialogue. She mentions that she loves you, but that she does because she was created to do so.
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She loves all the hunters because her purpose is to care for them, and in her words, embolden their sickly spirits.
The second piece of context is in Gehrman’s dialogue just before he says the line about the Doll.
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He is telling you that anything you find in the workshop is a tool you can use to strengthen yourself and make the hunt easier. He is referring to the Doll as a tool, because she is one of the few the workshop has not lost. He’s not sexualizing her, he’s talking about her like she is a tool, and something to be used, not seen as a person.
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Is it a good thing? No, but considering he resents her for not being what he created her to be (or by another interpretation, coming to life when he never intended her to), it’s not unreasonable to assume that over time he would just categorize her as a thing instead of a person.
The second piece of evidence towards this god awful theory is the Doll’s white blood. Honestly I cannot believe people genuinely take this as being semen, because not only is there a canon reason for creatures to have pale blood, but also it’s just disgusting.
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You need a minimum of one insight to see the Doll during the game, she was given life by the Moon Presence following Gehrman’s placement in the Hunter’s Dream, and she bleeds pale blood. She’s kin. (Yes I am aware the game does not consider her kin in regards to whether or not she can be dealt damage based gems that alter your attacks vs kin, but you’re not supposed to be fighting her anyway, and it’s not like you need a bonus to kill her in the first place).
And finally, to address the other big point, the item descriptions that appear on Maria’s Hunter Garb and the Doll’s Set.
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I would like to address first, the obvious, that Maria’s garb says directly she was “unaware of his curious mania” (however you interpret that), but the point is she was unaware, he clearly in life, never made advances on her (which is something I’ve seen a few people state is ‘implied’???).
The second, and this one is a bit in the subtext, is that the Doll seems to not have any idea that Gehrman ever had any positive feelings towards her at all, she expresses a love for the hunter in a way that reflects someone who was never shown love in any capacity (likely due to the circumstances surrounding her achieving sentience), so its reasonable to assume as well that she was entirely unaware of the ‘curious mania’ as well.
Additionally I would point out that while referencing Gehrman’s mania once more, the Doll’s description also directly states that she was once loved and cared for, something that changed after she gained sentience. She likely served as a memorial for Maria, considering there is no canon evidence Maria herself actually has a grave.
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The grave that provides the Old Hunter Bone may be hers, but the item description refers to the hunter it came from as “he.” This could be due to it being placed there prior to the decision to give Maria the quickening skill in her boss fight, or it could be that Maria did not have a proper grave for whatever reason, and thus the Doll was needed, which could then relate the obsession to an obsession with Gehrman keeping a memory of her, as there is nothing else he seems to have of her.
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Everything here aside I would like to also point out that the Doll is quite literally, a doll. There is nothing that would even suggest she would be capable of any sort of sexual relationship.
Especially because even before the Dream, the Doll did have a specific purpose. She seems to be modeled after Victorian mourning dolls, which were items used to help families/loved ones process grief, typically of children, by having something to remind them of the deceased that did not itself look deceased. If you consider the grave in the Abandoned Old Workshop to be Maria’s and know that that’s also where the Doll is in the waking world, then that’s probably what she’s for. Or as stated before, the grave may NOT be hers, and the Doll itself IS her grave.
Another thing I didn’t point out but will, for a moment get into, is the Doll’s clothing being feminized. A lot of people take this as Gehrman being a misogynist and sexualizing her in a more feminine way as if he himself was not training Maria (and likely other women) to be hunters during his life. He encouraged the less feminine life she lived as a hunter!
That point always confuses me, especially knowing that one of the last things Maria likely said to Gehrman was what she said after the massacre at the Fishing Hamlet where she threw away her weapon and renounced the hunt, choosing to retire (and potentially become a caretaker for the Church’s patients, judging by her role in the Hunter’s Nightmare). Like OF COURSE he dressed her like that, she expressed that she no longer wanted to be a hunter so he made her the opposite. The only reason she is dressed the way she is in the Hunter’s Nightmare is because that is how Kos is depicting her, not because it’s her conscious choice.
The point of this is, Gehrman is one of my all time favorite characters alongside Maria and the Doll, and while yes, I am well aware he isn’t perfect, it’s still frustrating to see him get so mischaracterized by a fandom who insists they love lore so much, and care about the tiny details. You can dislike Gehrman or think he does shitty things and that’s fine, but creating a story where he’s a creep just to prove you care about Maria and the Doll is weird. And it’s weirdER that people argue IN FAVOR of the theory as if it MUST be true, because honestly why would anyone even want it to be???
This post also was specifically done without consideration for whatever type of relationship Gehrman and Maria had according to canon or any interpretations. Essentially I’m not necessarily saying any of this has anything to do with whether or not you ship them, I personally don’t, but I know some people do, and I feel like on either side you can still be critical of this Doll theory, as it is entirely baseless.
(In case anyone is interested, the images and references used for this were from the Bloodborne wiki, specifically this one.)
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soullessjack · 9 months
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anyways 4:30am wip updates!!!!!!!!!!!! can you tell i love rendering hair :3
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achilleslyre · 8 months
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obito carried so much on his shoulders for his entire life and all you people do is reduce him to an incel…….
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I think it’s time for some good old fashioned journaling since I can post again
#so. as y’all know the reason I’ve been largely avoiding posting and interacting with me is bc one of my friends thought it was funny to#find my account right? however as a joke a few weeks ago she was like haha look at what I can see#naturally that made me incredibly unhappy and until I could have a serious conversation with her I all but stopped speaking to her#i had a conversation with her and pretty much put it down to there are things I do not want to share with you and you severely went against#my privacy and this is not something I will get over if forgive. hopefully eventually I will move past it#and she was pretty much like oh yeah my bad it was a bad taste joke didn’t know u cared so much#like. I’ve been saying for Years. do not come find me or it will end our friendship. to any close friend I’ve come across#i genuinely don’t think she understood why I was so upset just due to the fact that she fundamentally doesn’t care about things#like she does not have interests. that’s not something she does. when she has an occasional one she would rather die than admit she cares#and in general it’s whatever. u do u. but when that stops you from seeing how much other people care about things? we have problems#she literally said to my face oh sorry I didn’t know tumblr was your deepest darkest secret#like. you’ve got to be kidding me#she wasn’t defensive when I tried to talk to her. but I really don’t think she got why I’m so upset about this. like not a clue#she was just like. ok. my bad. i won’t be back and I haven’t been back#which. was a lie she has been and I called her out on that and she literally was like. well. except for that#and she asked me like oh do u have anything else u wanna say and I was like not now but maybe later#i knew I wasn’t going to just forgive her. i know my trust isn’t just rebuildable I have trust issues as it is. but I don’t think that#conversation fixed a single thing. i pretty much just let her know I was upset with her. that is all that accomplished.#i don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget this honestly. and quite frankly I have no wish to continue to speak to her as it is#unfortunately my future sits with her as she’s moving to college with me next year where I’ll have to rely on her for rides and then to#cali where we’re moving in with several friends#this isn’t something that can be fixed. and she just keeps FaceTiming me like we’re good and I keep declining#I’m just so torn bc honestly my go to for this situation is cut off contact no one is worth me losing my sense of privacy. no one#but I don’t think I can here. as it stands I will be relying on her. i guess I could do it myself but it will be a massive pain#as cold as it seems to weigh someone’s existence in my life in an unemotional pros and cons list unfortunately I haven’t the luxury of#looking at this from an emotional standpoint. though to be fair. I’ve learned to not rely on my emotions for decisions#soup talks#girl hit me right in the worst sort of trauma I have and I finally have the opportunity to do what I wish I could have done years ago. leave#start fresh. start with people who don’t know me yet who will respect my privacy. who make me feel safe
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afieldinengland · 2 years
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roachheavennow · 7 days
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cetoddle · 1 month
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i think probably i come on here to lament and vent so much and so deeply because even when i try to explain how i feel to my therapist or psychiatrist they don’t even listen they just brush me off completely and basically tell me i need to just stop being miserable. like their solutions are to keep pushing useless medications on me and tell me to just be happier through sheer willpower or something honestly i don’t even know what they want me to do anymore
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ciaoteamo · 1 month
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Milk and Water Pt. II
pairings: doppelgänger!Milkman x fem!Reader
summary: the aftermath of letting him in
pt.I
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(art credits: @yunonoaii)
warnings: 18+ content
“…what. the. fuck.” You mutter to yourself, watching the scene before you unfold.
“mmm, how about letting me in now? promise i won’t bite you too hard” His eyes were dangerously seductive.
Your desktop fan and the slight rustling sound of (what you could only assume was) him touching himself filled the eerie silence of your office space.
However, he could still tell that you were hesitant to let him in, especially considering what he just did to D.D.D.
“how about this, sweetheart we-“
“if i open this door.” You cut him off. He shuts up quickly and halts his movements with a blank stare. His eyes watching you intently.
“you come straight to me, or else i swear to fuck. it will not be a good time for you. you copy?” Your hands were firmly grasping the edge of the desk as you stared the man in his color changing eyes.
“i promise” He kisses the window and you give him one last short lived glare before unlocking the door for him.
BZZT!
He slowly turns away from you and walks toward the door and you felt relieved to hear a light knock a few seconds later before he let himself in.
“see? you can trust the milkman” He grins.
He was a mess. Between the torn clothing, the blood, and his unzipped slacks that displayed his black briefs holding back a huge bulge, he honestly looked like something out of a wet dream.
“this is quite a small space… you think i’ll be alright in here?” He closed the door behind himself and strides toward you.
“you don’t have any choice but to be alright” You retort and he chortles.
“i love this mouth of yours… i’ve never crossed paths with a human as bold as you…” He tilts his head, placing a hand under your chin to lift it a bit.
“unless you’re actually scared… and using this boldness as a tactic..?” His irises turn white once again and his grip on your chin tightened slightly.
Though you were enduring a near death experience right now, being that you were this close to a doppelgänger, you were unbelievably horny.
“tactics?” You start. You already knew that you probably wouldn’t be able to get out of his grip just by moving, so you used a more… inappropriate approach.
You took a step closer to him, closing in the 2 foot gap that sat between the two of you and you placed your palm over his hard-on.
His grip immediately loosened a bit and his fingers twitched against your skin. What a reaction that was…
You feel more confident, realizing that he’s just another horny good looking guy. “is there a reason i should be afraid of you?” You ask, hand squeezing around him and a finger rubbing his tip.
He shudders and his hand falls from your chin and rests around your throat. His forehead tapped against yours, and your eyes were fixed on each other. “…you really are something”
“wish i could say the same for you“ You start, breaking the eye contact to look at his lips and sharp canines. “you’re just a slutty and messy excuse of a monster” Your words would probably be venom to anyone else, but this only riled him up more.
You felt his throbbing under your palm and grin to yourself before being greedily pulled into a kiss. For a brief moment, you could taste a metallic bloody taste on his tongue.
You moaned at the warmth of his mouth and felt his hands rested on your hips, rubbing circles into the area.
You release yourself from the kiss with his bottom lip between your teeth and a smile. “desperate, are we?” You tease.
“painfully…” His eyes glistened. “what’ll it take to get those pretty lips to go a little lower?”
“show me what yours can do first and i’ll see about returning the favor” You challenge. His eyes go back and forth between yours before he kisses you again.
This time however, he started to undo your uniform. Groaning so deeply that you felt the rumble in your throat. His skilled hands loosened your belt and your slacks came down and off.
Next he lowered himself and lifted you a bit to get off your socks and shoes, making him get more sloppy and needy within the kiss.
At this point he was squatting and you were standing over him, holding both sides of his face. His hands travelled up and down your leg as he stayed in his position and this time, he’s the one to break the kiss.
You were both breathing heavily, and staring each other down. You almost forgot your resolve and let him fuck you right then and there.
But you had to stay strong, for both of you guys’ sake. You take a deep breath in and til your head.
“well, you gonna show me? or are just sit there and look delirious from a simple kiss?” You teased.
“…may i?” He asks with a slightly raised eyebrow, gesturing toward your leg.
“go ahead”
“hold on to something right”
“why am i h- shit!” You would’ve fell right to the ground if it wasn’t for the shelf behind you that held last months documents. Albeit, they’re scattered over the floor now.
Your legs were snatched from underneath you and each one was hooked over the man’s shoulders. His warm breath against you felt sinister. It sent a slight chill up your spine.
His eyes stared down at your sex and he licked his lips, looking more excited than you did for this. “don’t let go” He says before using gis fingers to spread you sticky lips.
His tongue pressed hard into you and drug from your hole, up to your clit. You bit your lip at the warmth and felt your back arch against your will.
“ha~ this all you got? Thought you said you’d be bet- anghh~!” Your eyes widen and your mouth drops at the new feeling below.
“you were saying?” He mumbles into you. His tongue was longer with a pointy tip, and his lips were wrapped tightly around your clit.
The pleasure was almost overwhelming. You could definitely admit that he made you eat your words and replace them with loud endless moans.
As you felt yourself getting closer you began to grind your hips over his face, chasing after your high.
“don’t stop” You could barely get out the last word before the wave of immense overstimulating pleasure came over you.
You curse and take in a few deep breaths, calming yourself down a bit, and only then did he let your clit go with a ‘pop’, making your legs to twitch.
“that wasn’t fair” You jokingly glare at him, the sweat making your skin shine and chilly from the fan air.
“i told you i was better” He wipes his chin with his thumb and licks it clean without breaking the eye contact.
“you have to be some sort of… sex demon” You shake your head in disbelief.
“maybe i am?” He lets you tug him closer by his tie and give him another sloppy kiss. The change in size of his tongue being just below too much for you as it explored your mouth.
“well let’s see how long you can last then… hm?” You ask, beginning to leave a trail of light kisses on his next before a harsh bite.
You could feel him shudder and decided to have him sit in your office chair. “let me borrow this..” You say, undoing his tie while he sat.
You spin the chair around and bring both of his arms to the back and tie them to the chair. When you spin his back around, his had such a mischievous grin that you went ahead and addressed.
“yes, i know you could probably get out of that in a heartbeat” You start and roll your eyes. He chuckles, amused at your awareness. “but, will you?” It was your turn to put on the sly grin now. The second he managed to break free from his restraint, would be the moment you’d send him off.
“…” He read your face, bit knowing if he should say something sly or not.
“right, thought so” You smile and give him a few taps on the cheek.
You kneel between the man’s legs, finally addressing the large and throbbing penis before you.
“god you’re hard… you weren’t kidding when you said you needed help” You joke, rubbing his wet tip through his boxers with you finger.
He grunted a bit and readjusted himself in his seat. You look up at him before pressing harshly on it with your thumb.
“oh fuck you~” He throws his head back and you giggle.
You reach for the hem of his briefs and tug at them, signaling him to lift his hips. Once he’s exposed, you could really see the girth and length of him.
He was veiny, thick… bright pink tip, and god knows how long it was.
You put your hand around the base, it was warm and nearly pulsating. Your pace was moderate, giving him just enough to work with. You knew it was a nice steady pace when his hips slightly jerked up for more friction.
“needy boy wanting to fuck my hand? this wasn’t even the main event you asked for, love” You coo, strengthening the grip you had on him by a smidge.
“i can’t help that you know how to use those hands of yours so well” He remarks, still facing the ceiling.
You pump your fist higher up and use your own skilled tongue to drag along his vein.
“@$?!~” He moaned and immediately looked down at you with a snarl. An almost threatening one telling you that he wanted more.
And were you planning on giving it to him? Absolutely not.
You stare right back at him and smirk, using the same motion and occasionally sucking the pre cum from its leaky pink source.
“i’m gonna cum” Your eyes welled a bit at the large shaft triggering your gag reflex. But he was close so you would endure the slight pain.
His thrust his hips up a few times and you force your head as far as you could before completely stopping.
“fuck- why’d you stop” His voice was almost a whisper and suddenly thick white ropes shot into the air and landed on his thigh.
“oh i’m sorry, i’ll keep going” You reach for his most sensitive spots, overstimulating him into a nervous laughter as he begged you to stop.
It was fun watching him experience more than he could handle, but all good things come to an end.
He sighs in relief, sweaty, heaving, and dazed.
“can i be freed now?” He asks.
“sure, why not. looks like you’re done here anyway” You shrug.
“who’s done?” He stands up, simply snapping the tie apart.
“oh… you’ve still got more in you?”
“im the milkman, i never run out” He suddenly picks you up and sits on you on the desk. Jesus, these things are strong.
You wrap your hands around your neck, suddenly feeling the arousal for another round yourself.
His hands find your slick entrance, teasing the outside and slipping two cold slender fingers into you.
“mmm!” You mean into the kiss, holding onto his forearm as he fingered you at an inhumane pace. You break away and cat h your breath trying to slow him down a bit.
“i don’t want to cum from this, put it in” You say.
“yes ma’am” He lines himself up without your entrance and slowly pushes himself in with a moan. You could every centimeter of the stretch as he went deeper.
You tapped the back of your head onto the window behind you and felt him kissing on your neck and collarbone.
“fuck you’re big” Your voice slightly shook as you stated the obvious.
“and you’re so warm and wet inside, i ashamed to admit that i almost came putting it in” He chuckled before biting back another groan.
RIIIIING
RIIIIING
You snap your head in the direction of the phone and see D.D.D. calling.
Shit.
“stop, i have to take this.” He halts his thrusts and you grab the phone. “hello?”
“agent number” A deep voice says over the phone.
“5 5 8 4 3 7” You state clearly.
“thank you agent (Y/N), we’re calling about a few M.I.A. cleaners? it says in our system that you were the last to call. is everything alright?”
“ye-es~” You feel something rubbing your g-spot and look over at Francis. ‘stop, now.’ You mouth silently. He just smirks and speeds up.
“are you sure? you sound like you’re being threatened” The man on the phone asks.
“mhm~, im fine sir, just a little shaky” You put your hand over the phone speaker and look at Francis.
“what the fuck is wrong with you??” You ask, interrupting yourself with a few moans.
“just a little thirsty for some water” He thrusts harder, causing him to hit your g-spot, and your clit back to back.
You cover your mouth with your shirt and moan into it, hearing the buzz of a voice on the phone. Honestly you should be scared, they could show any minute, but right now, you could care less.
“im gonna cum” You whisper, still being mindful of the potential listeners.
“yeah?” He grabs a young and stands straight up, slamming you down into his cock. You let out something just short of a scream into the crook of his neck and find yourself twitching and shaking in his grip.
You heard a splash and felt him fill you up with his seed. You both were a moaning, groaning mess, heavily breathing in place.
“(Y/N), do you copy?……. we’re on our way” The phone then hangs up and the low buzzy voice is replaced with a prominent beep.
“you have to go, they’re coming” You lazily try to leave his strong hold with a tired push against his chest.
“but first” He puts you back on the desk where you rest your back against the cold glass window. “a drink..” His tongue grows longer right infont of you, and cleans you from your ankles to your navel, and of course he ran it over the bundle of nerves he’s been abusing all night, making your body jolt.
“you’re so delicious… i wish i could always taste you” His tongue goes back to its normal size.
“well i’ll get going now… i’ll be seeing you again soon, love. i’ll try not to cause too much trouble next time…” He gives you a peppery kiss on the nose and leaves.
Well, that’s one way to end your day shift…
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eauxvide · 10 months
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Venesection
i forgot what it felt like
not almost, not really 
but truly
i couldn’t remember it at all
i knew the feeling 
i knew the thoughts, the rush
i knew the quiet that came after 
like the eye of a storm 
it’s just my body. my body. 
it’s okay. it’s no one else’s.
just curious 
just this once. just mine.
i didn't grasp it until i had done it
i did it until it truly opened
all heat. blooming. i forced it out of me.
but i couldn't get it at first
at first i was too soft, too quick
and then i did it.
again and again and again
and then i split
so then the part that came before the worst.
the sting. the ironic care. hope it didn't seep
all the rest were irritated, flushed
not warm, but i felt everywhere. it crept up on me.
it didn't matter what i meant
i still hurt. gave it all up.
why why why why? i was so good
so stable. so clean.
why can't i truly let myself be good? 
(do you want to get better?)
i felt like a parent to myself in some ways.
(why did you push? you hesitated.)
questions questions questions. why?
(why did you do it? did you want it that badly? why didn’t you stop? just stop. stop.)
with no answers. only tears. and pressure.
(it doesn’t matter it wasn’t that deep no one can see them unless you show them and why would you do that don’t you feel ashamed are you trying to live through some twisted fantasy? are you giving yourself  problems. do you even know what’s a real issue anymore. if you’re probably gonna infect her with this thing. you won’t be able to get enough. of her. of it. you’re gonna consume her and when things  don’t work you’re gonna break. you want someone to love. you want someone to love you. are you even real? am i real. are you sick. no you’re not. did you like it did you like it did you like it did you like it did you like it did you like it did you like it did you like it. fucking freak. don’t even know what’s real to you. you have something deep inside you that you refuse to look in the eye, you refuse to give it a name but it’s at home in your body and it wants to eat you whole. what do you want? what do you deserve? it doesn’t want to kill you but it wants to consume you. how does that work? it fuels every idea in your head and wills every tear in your system to surface. it makes you question yourself constantly. it has your eyes. it wants to love you till you bleed it dry.) 
what was the worst was when my thoughts went quiet
as if they were never there at all, all alone
kneeling at the crime scene
and all i had left was me
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cosmosis · 11 months
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MOVED TO @seratopia
miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - jealousy
miguel gets jealous possessive after a new intern flirts with you this is part of the same universe as my call oneshot!
Being 2nd in charge of the multiverse is... honestly not that hard for you. It’s mostly just co-leading, and being a secretary. Lyla helps out a bunch, but sometimes, a sassy AI can only do so much. 
Jess informed you of a new intern she recruited. Apparently, he’s having his first day today, which means you’ll probably have to do a quick run-through of things with him later. 
For now, it’s your fated duty to sit with Miguel at his desk so he doesn’t get all pouty later. He starts huffing and puffing when you aren’t near, takes it out on the kids sometimes. 
Thanks to your suggestion, Miguel invested in a nice desk and swivel chair for the office, so now it looks more like an actual workspace instead of a maniac’s plot room. (either way, he his one lmao)
Since Lyla’s gone for the time being, you’re standing up on the office platform, tapping away at a multitude of screens. Miguel lays lazily in the office chair, swiveled up behind you to rub his face into your upper back, as well as run his hands along your tummy. 
“Hun, you gotta let go. I needa tour the intern.” You mutter, closing in on an ID photo of the recruit.
“No.“
“Well, if I don’t do it, then who will?“ You ask. 
“Jess.“
“She’s busy on her break. Pregnant women need breaks, you know.“
“Ugh. I don’t want you to leave.“ He whines. squeezing you tighter. 
You start squirming out of his grip, pulling his pinky off of your stomach. Inching away, you push Miguel away by his head. Reluctantly, he starts letting you go, lazily running his hands onto the skin of your hips and lower thighs before letting go. 
“I’ll see you in a bit, baby.“ You say, scuffing up his hair with your palm. Gracefully, you leap down from the platform, somersaulting onto the floor and skating out the exit. You hop over a few stray cardboard boxes. 
Miguel watches you stroll away, and fixes his hair back into place. 
Lyla magically appears, phasing in and out with a different sly look each time. She snickers, flickering all around Miguel’s head. 
“Whipped.“
“Shut the fuck up.“
. . .
Miguel’s blood starts to boil as soon as you roll in with that stupid, bastard of an intern. He’s too close to you for comfort, so close to his arm nudging yours... Miguel’s teeth start to clench, his fangs close to drawing blood from his mouth. He’s paying too much attention to you, there’s a vibe he gets that he hates to his core. 
Everything about him is aggravating; the blonde hair, the snarky smirk, all of it.  
“...and this is Miguel’s office!“ You say, gesturing your hand to the majority of the area. 
“Sweet, nice to meet the bossman.“
Bossman, his ass. Miguel would only ever let you call him bossman. 
“Miguel! Come down!“ You yell, and his heart warms in his chest. He turns around from his standing form on the office platform, eyeing the intern in order to scare him a bit. 
“Hey, what’s up man! Glad to finally meet the man behind the slaughter!“ The intern exclaims, his hands rested on his hips. 
Miguel fights every urge to both roll his eyes and tackle the recruit, keeping a somewhat straight face on. He chuckles a little, not a single trace of a smile on his face. 
“Heh, yeah? Excited to meet the bossman?“ Miguel taunts, but it looks like the intern can’t tell he is. 
“Heck yeah dude! Where do I start?“
Miguel starts nodding a little, plastering on a face smile, chuckling a bit...
Before he throws the entire office chair at the recruit. Not to hit you, though. He’d never, ever hit you. 
Instantly, the intern turns away, shielding his body with his hands. In the nick of time, though, you latch your webbing onto the chair, slinging it away to side before it could harm anyone. You cross your arms. 
“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry about tha- MIGUEL!“ You scream. 
And he throws a literal file cabinet at the man. Again, you latch it out of way without problem. 
“What th'heck, man?! What’s your fuckin’ problem?!“ The intern yells, spreading his arms out. 
“My fuckin’ problem is you nagging my wife!“ He roars. 
“Wait a sec- she’s your wife?“
Miguel then  leaps down from the platform, chin held up high in a sinister glare. Slowly, he steps over towards the both of you, fixing his eyes on the intern the entire time. 
Miguel’s tall, really tall compared to the newbie. He pokes his finger to the recruit, leaning in real close. 
“Stay at least 5 feet away from my wife at all times.“ Miguel utters, and you kinda feel bad for the new guy. 
You cross your arms. “C’mon, Miguel. He’s literally new, take it easy on him!” You say back, and Miguel pouts, whines. Possessively, he reaches over to you, pulling in you in by the hip to try to soothe you. It doesn’t work, and you present yourself from giving into his needy touches.  
And then, you turn around back to the newbie. “Gosh, I’m so sorry about that! He’s usually not like this-”
“Man, fuck this.“ The intern exclaims, taking a few steps back in agitation. “Take me back home, I ain’t dealin’ with this shit!“
He storms off, kicking a stray cardboard box on the way out. 
“Aw, crap.“
“Finally.“
You swerve back around, hands on your hips. “Miguel, that was uncalled for.”
“Yes it was! He was smothering all over you!“ He yells, throwing his hands up in the air like it was the most obvious thing ever. 
“Well, now thanks to you, we lost a recruit.“
“One of literally thousands!“
“And now, there’s papers everywhere on the floor!“
“Shhh, honey, I’ll clean it up later.“
Ignoring your frown, Miguel finally pulls you into him, pressing your lower back into his own with a nose into your hair.
“I saw the way he put his arm around you. He was flirting with you too. Hated it.“ Miguel utters. 
“When?“ You ask.
“On the surveillance.“ He says, and you sigh. He’s right, the guy was flirting with you for a bit, but you chose to ignore it so you could get over with the tour faster. 
“Eh, he gave me the heebie jeebies from the beginning.“ You say, and Miguel automatically squeezes you tighter into him, a deep grumble bellowing from his inner throat.
“I’m never letting you tour anyone ever again.“ Miguel admits.
“After that? Go ahead.“ You scoff, and finally, he sighs in relief. 
He tries drags you back to the office platform again, but then forgets that he threw the chair, grumbling in regret. Instead, he just hovers behind you for the rest of the day, occasionally pressing a smooch to your head. 
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everchanging-cryptid · 11 months
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Why would a being give you everything and then take it all away from you in one moment unless they were evil from the beginning, do not trust beings who offer you riches you could earn by yourself
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shotmrmiller · 6 months
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I'm your only situationship.
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A/N : yall i stayed up til 324 am writing this. I felt like if i went to bed still only having it as a thought and not on 'paper' thats unacceptable. If i gotta think about this then so do yall! it was also supposed to be a small one shot but it got wildly out of hand im not sorry.
18+ MDNI
TW: typical smut, EXPLICIT mmkay im talkin clutch ur pearls explicit.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Simon had finally come home from a grueling 6-month mission. All he wanted was some Kentucky bourbon with you at your favorite seedy bar. 
Once he was home, Simon cleaned up, put on a black clinical mask, and sent a text to you to meet him there. As he finished his first glass of the night, a rather attractive young woman approached him, asking if she could buy him a drink. 
“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, lovie?”
“Not at all. This is after all the 21st century. I’m simply asking— wouldn’t want any missus at home getting upset.”
“There’s no one at home for me, lass.”
“Well then, how about you get yourself another glass, my treat, and we’ll see where this night takes us?” 
He slightly nodded —he’d never say no to a free drink— and as she left to order a drink, he took his phone out to text you again.
“C’mon, pet. I’ll cover the tab. Too good f’me, now?”
His phone vibrated a minute later.
“I can’t today, Si.”
“Why not? I know you don’t go out on Sundays.”
As the young woman came back, drinks in hand, he lifted the screen to read your response.
“I’ve got a dick appointment~ It’s been a year and then some and I’m gonna claw at my walls if I don’t get a fix ASAP.”
Simon goes tense— soft blues hardening to a silver and he’s gripping his phone so hard it might crack. He pulls up your contact and calls you within seconds.
“Hiya, Si!” 
“What the fuck is a dick appointment?”
“Oh,” you giggle. “I forget you older folk don’t know ‘bout that. It’s just a one-night fling. No commitments or nothin'.’ Exactly what I need right now.” You don’t tell him that the reason you’ve practically regrown your hymen is that when you’re best friends with Simon, every other male in existence pales in comparison. 
“Anyway Si-, he’s getting here in like an hour-”
“No.” And hangs up. 
The young woman who’s casually rubbing his bicep and shoulder gets practically flung off of him, as he gets up off the bar stool so fast it’s falling back with a loud clang, and he’s yanking his leather jacket on and pulling on his leather gloves so hard they’re about to become fingerless—
“Hey! I thought you didn’t have a girlfriend?!”
One gloved hand gripping the front door, he turns his head slightly to her and says, “Pet, with how good I’m gonna fuck her, she won’t even have to ask to know she’s mine.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
You’re standing in the bathroom with your liquid eyeliner in one hand and phone in the other, staring at the ended call screen. ‘Weird,’ you think, then shrug and put the phone down. ‘Maybe the call got dropped.’
You finally complete the look with your false lashes when there’s a very hard knock on your door. You frown as you look at your phone screen. ‘7:14 pm’. You know the guy said at 8 and you’re in one of Simon’s big shirts he always forgets and your hair is still tied up in an oversized pink and white polka dot scrunchie— The pink leopard print booty shorts you’ve got on will suffice. 
The second time there’s a knock it’s even louder. 
“Jesus Christ, I’m coming!” 
You open the door and say, “I’m sorry I took so long, I—”
Simon flies past you, with a rough shoulder bump and you turn to look at him and he’s almost sprinting to the bedroom, slamming the door open—
“Simon, what the fuck? What’re you doin—”
“Where is he?”, he snarls.
“Who?! Are you talking about my date? He’s not getting here til 8! And why’re you slamming doors in my apartment like you pay my rent?!”
You see Simon deflate immediately at the important part of your answer and chooses to ignore the rest as he takes off his jacket and walks to your hall closet to hang it. Closing your door and locking it, you growl out,
“You need to leave. I haven’t even finished getting ready. I promise I’ll—”
“No, pet.”
“Will you quit interrupting me! Simon, I swear—”
“Pet.” 
You’re holding a scream behind your teeth, about to rip the hair out of your scalp when you see Simon take one loop of his mask off from around his ear and then the other. You gape. You’ve seen Simon without his mask— that isn’t the reason you can no longer find your voice. It’s the way he put his gloved middle finger in between his teeth and pulled it off so sensually. You can feel your cheeks and ears radiate heat from just seeing the tip of his pink tongue. Christ, you’re down horrendously.
You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract yourself from the fact that you’re getting wet over an interaction so chaste when Simon is touching your ass, giving it a hard squeeze, before moving down to the back of your thighs and lifting you up. You startle at the movement and throw your arms around his neck out of habit, hoping he won’t drop you in the move to your bedroom.
He presses you against the wall with his hips, then grabs both of your ankles from behind his lower back and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. Simon noses your jaw and starts grinding his clothed erection deliciously hard over the definitely wet spot on your shorts and growls out, 
“If you think,” grind “that I’m gonna allow My,” grind “Girl,”  grind—and you whimper in his ear,  “get fucked by some little cock two pump chump,” he gives a forced chuckle, “you must be daft, pet. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, eh? Trying to get my attention? Well, you’ve got it now. “ 
He moves his face to hover his lips over yours— you can lightly smell the bourbon he drank earlier— and he whispers, “You ever like this and I’m around, you come to me. And if I’m away, you wait for me like a good girl and when I come back I’ll give this,” he taps your pussy over your shorts, “greedy little cunt all the cock it can take.”
With a shaky breath, you nod before he kisses you, his bourbon-flavored tongue curling against yours, and you’re moaning into it because you’ve wanted this for too long and he’s finally touching you. Curling your fingers into his ash-brown hair, you move your mouth to his neck, to the right of his adam’s apple, took a bit of skin between your teeth and sucked. 
Simon hisses, dips his fingertips into your flesh hard enough to bruise, and all but yanks you off the wall to toss you onto your bed. 
You yelp as you bounce from the force of his throw— you’re still bouncing on the bed when Simon grabs the waistband of your shorts and knickers to pull right off, which you’re grateful for because the grey knickers you got on aren’t what anyone would wear for a first, second nor third impression.
Simon grabs both of the back of your knees with one hand,  goddamn bear paws, you think, before you feel his tongue in between your lips— so warm and wet and fuck, you needed this, needed him— and he flicks his tongue up and down on your clit. He sticks his long middle finger into you and it goes in without resistance, you’re slippery, drooling over his wrist and finger that’s curled up into the rough patch of nerves against your gummy walls, that he’s pressing into, over and over. God you’re about to come, your legs shake in his one-handed hold and you’ve got a white knuckle grip on the forearm you’re sinking your nails into—
Simon pulls away. You were so close, your eyes start watering because he can’t possibly be this mean to you but then you see him shove his tongue in between his middle and ring finger, eating up your nectar when he says, “The first time I’m gonna make you come, it’ll be on my cock. I want to see the frothy white cream you're gonna leave at the base.” 
You’re nodding hysterically at this point, anything for him to make you come, anything for him.  With a twirl of his index, he’s telling you to get on all fours. Scrambling, you turn over and arch your back— resting your head on your forearms— and you feel his calloused palms run down from your spine to your ass cheeks before he gives it a spank. 
“You have a condom?” 
You shake your head and you mewl out, “No, but I’m clean.”
“Good. I don’t want anything between us.”
You arch your back further, pressing your ass further into his hips when you hear his belt buckle clank and zipper open. Simon brings his palm to your other cheek, reddening it. 
“Fuckin’ hell, pet. Look at you spread out for me.” 
You feel warm velvet over steel over your slit before he slowly pushes inside, not all the way but about a little over half of his length, remembering that your g-spot is a little closer to the front. Fast, relatively shallow thrusts hitting your spot with almost clinical precision have you reeling, your orgasm about to break you, mind and body. Hands tightening painfully, you shatter— loud, high-pitched whines, ringing in your ears and pussy pulsing around Simon’s thick girth— and god, Simon doesn’t stop thrusting. He keeps the same smooth rhythm and you’d think he’s unaffected by the tight vice your pussy has him in— but you hear him, low, deep groans and a tighter grip on your hips telling you otherwise. 
He pulls out to bend over your back, completely covering it, and he murmurs in your ear, “I hope you didn’t think we were done. My girl wanted a fuckin’, now she’s gonna get it.” 
He takes off your pink, silly scrunchy and you see it around his tattooed wrist before he grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and is leaning back up and forcing your back to arch under his pull. You feel his leg at the height of your hips— propped up, foot flat on the bed and knee bent and the other straight on the floor and all you can think of is how this man is gonna kill you with his cock. 
Simon snaps his hips forward, fist full of hair pulling back,  stretching and filling in one strong thrust, bottoming out. He gives you no reprieve, no time to get used to how fucking deep he is, and sets an intense, firm pace that has you feeling a pinch below the navel every time his hip bones slap against your ass, balls to the clit and you love it. Every pinch in your lower belly has your pussy making a squelching sound and you can’t help yourself— you reach underneath your body to feel how split open you are with two fingers, encasing his cock and feeling the skin drag with them as he pulls out.
That has him hissing air between his teeth, he’s about to come but doesn't want it to be over so he pulls out, and opens your cheeks to spit in your furled hole, before pressing in with the pad of his thumb, and you’re almost screaming. He moves back a bit further to spit in your pussy, not that you need it— you’re drenching the sheets underneath you— and now he’s spearing you with his tongue before curling it, getting your juices pooled on it before coming back up, lips smacking, and he grabs your hair in his ponytail and now he uses his other hand to curls his fingers and palm over the front of your throat and that's all it takes for your vision to darken and arms go limp but he’s again, fucking you through your orgasm and this time you leave a creamy white ring at the base of his length. 
“Oh, fuckin hell.” He groans out and it sounds desperate and you know he’s close.
“Come in me, Simon. Please fill me up, I promise I’ll keep it all in.”
He gives a strained chuckle and says, “Pet, I can barely pull out of a driveway much less this tight little cunt.” He squeezes your throat hard, strands of hair popping out of your scalp and his cock feels massive, the pinch in your stomach feels like a cramp from how deep he is and he lets out a low drawn out moan that lasts 3 thrusts— and then there’s warmth filling you up, so much so it leaks from the sides of where you two are connected. Simon lets go of your hair and you fall face-first onto the bed, exhausted. Defeated. Back properly broken. You officially know what it’s like to get fucked within an inch of your life and you love it. 
He pulls out slowly, with a hiss from both of you and with one hand on your left cheek, he spreads you to look at your stuffed hole.
“Fuck. I love seeing me drip out of you.” 
You’re about to tell him to sod off when the doorbell rings and the both of you stiffen and lock eyes. With a mean snarl, Simon grabs a towel from your bathroom and his mask before stomping his way to answer the door, pink obnoxious scrunchy still on his wrist.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
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solarmorrigan · 11 days
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Saw someone mention how Steve tends to get defensive when he's anxious and it stuck with me, so here's my take on the "Steve breaks a dish and has a panic attack about it" trope
cw: descriptions of nonstandard panic attack, implied/referenced child abuse
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The distinct sound of shattering porcelain is followed by a vehemently hissed, “shit,” and then silence.
“Steve?” Eddie calls from the couch into the kitchen. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Steve calls back, but his voice sounds tight in the way it does when something definitely isn’t okay.
Eddie pushes himself up and moves to the doorway, looking in to see what the trouble is. The kitchen of the house he and Wayne had been “gifted” by the government isn’t exactly huge, and he has a straight line of sight to where Steve is standing by the sink, eyes squeezed shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose, and to the red and white shards of porcelain on the floor by his feet.
“Hey,” Eddie says, but Steve doesn’t look up; if anything, his posture only gets tenser. “You’re not cut or anything, are you?”
“No,” Steve says, and his tone is still a little off, but he doesn’t sound like he’s lying.
“What was that, anyway?” Eddie asks.
Finally, Steve takes a deep breath in and opens his eyes, looking down at the mess on the laminate. “Mug.”
As soon as he says it, Eddie recognizes the colors for what the design must have been. “Shit, the Campbell’s one?”
Steve doesn’t say a word, just gives one sharp nod.
Eddie sucks a hiss of breath in through his teeth. “Shit,” he says again. “That was Wayne’s favorite.”
“I know,” Steve says tersely. “I’m sorry.”
His tone is definitely weird. “I mean, I’m sure it was an accident, Steve–” Eddie starts.
“I’m sorry,” Steve says again, almost snapping this time. “I’ll clean it up.”
“O-kay,” Eddie says slowly, watching as Steve jerks into motion and moves over to the corner where they stash the broom and dust pan.
“I’ll apologize to Wayne when he gets home,” Steve says as he starts sweeping up, even though Eddie hasn’t said a word.
“He gets home at, like, six in the morning.”
“I’ll make sure I’m up,” Steve says shortly.
“Steve, you can just tell him what happened later, he’s not going to stand around demanding an explanation. I mean, seriously, you think Wayne is gonna be pissed if you’re not there, immediately scraping at his feet when he comes through the door?” Eddie scoffs, but Steve remains silent. Eddie watches as he finishes sweeping in short, sharp motions, brows pulling together as Steve apparently fails to pick up on the joke. “…he won’t be, y’know.”
Steve shrugs. His expression has gone eerily blank, and he takes the dustpan over to the garbage can to dump it.
“Hey, don’t–” Eddie reaches out, and Steve jerks to a stop just in time. “You don’t have to toss it, man, we might be able to glue it back together.”
Steve sends Eddie a sharp look. “I’m not gonna be able to hide that it was broken, Eddie,” he says slowly, as though this should be painfully obvious.
“I’m not suggesting we hide it, I’m just saying we might still be able to use it,” Eddie answers in the same slow manner. “It’s not junk until you’re sure you can’t fix it.”
“Right,” Steve snaps, dropping the dustpan on the counter so sharply that the shards of porcelain clink against each other. “Can’t even clean up right.”
Eddie frowns, stirrings of defensiveness rising up in his gut at Steve’s continued sour mood. “I didn’t say that. I just said we might be able to fix it.”
“Fine. We’ll try to fix it,” Steve bites out, turning away from Eddie so he can put the broom back in the corner.
Eddie shakes his head, unwilling to engage with whatever snit Steve’s got himself worked into. “What happened, anyway?” he asks instead.
Apparently, this is the wrong tactic.
“What happened is, I’m too stupid to even do the dishes right,” Steve declares as he whirls back around. “Is that what you want to hear?”
“What?” Eddie is baffled, suddenly caught in the middle of an argument he hadn’t even realized was happening. “No! Why would I want to hear that?”
Steve throws his arms up, a demonstration of giving in. “Well I already said I’m sorry, and I am, and I don’t know what else you want from me!”
The heat of Eddie’s own temper is beginning to flare, but he does his best to shake it away because he still doesn’t know what the hell is going on and he doesn’t think getting angry will help. “I don’t want anything else from you! Why are you acting like I’m yelling at you? I’m not, I’m not even upset about the stupid mug, so what the hell is your deal?”
He takes a couple of steps into the kitchen, reaching out for Steve, hoping just to touch some part of him. Physical contact has always been grounding, has always been a comfort for them both; it almost seems like they can communicate better if they can just be in contact somehow. Instead of reaching back, though, Steve tenses up; it’s not exactly a flinch, but it’s as if he’s bracing himself, as if he’s waiting for Eddie to–
Eddie takes in the painfully blank expression on Steve’s pale face, the way his chest is rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths that he can’t quite seem to control, the way he’s angled himself just slightly away from Eddie, and suddenly Eddie feels cold.
It’s as if he’s waiting for Eddie to hit him.
Eddie wonders how the hell he hadn’t realized he was walking through a minefield until he was already standing in the middle of it.
(It still takes him by surprise, sometimes, that Steve’s anxiety, his panic, tends to look more like anger. That he tends to lash out like a wounded animal when he feels backed into a corner, hurt too many times in moments of vulnerability to do otherwise.)
(It takes him by surprise, but he’s learning.)
“Steve,” Eddie says softly, dropping his hand slowly back to his side, “I’m not angry.”
Steve stares at him, almost confused, like Eddie’s not doing it right, like this isn’t what’s supposed to come next. Eddie sort of wants to break something (he thinks, briefly, that he’d like to start with the fingers on Mr. Harrington’s right hand, and then move on to his left).
“It’s just a mug, Steve, it’s okay. No one’s upset about it,” Eddie says. “I’m preemptively speaking for Wayne, because I know he’s not gonna be mad at you. Seriously, getting upset over a broken cup? Does that sound like something Wayne would do?”
Slowly, once he seems to realize that Eddie is waiting for an answer, Steve shakes his head.
“Does that sound like something I would do?” Eddie asks.
Steve shakes his head again, though he’s still watching Eddie with something approaching trepidation.
“I promise it’s fine. I’m not angry,” Eddie repeats, and chances a couple of steps closer to Steve.
Steve doesn’t react this time, no tensing, no flinching, no verbally lashing out, and so Eddie lifts a hand again, reaching slowly for Steve’s. Steve lets him.
When he gets his fingers wrapped around Steve’s own, Eddie can feel how cold they’ve gone, can feel the fine tremble of adrenaline working through them, and can’t quite choke down the noise of sympathy in his throat. He tugs on Steve’s hand.
“C’mere,” Eddie says, invites him by lifting his other arm, but leaves it up to Steve.
It only takes a moment for Steve to step in close, and when Eddie lets go of his hand to wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders, Steve reciprocates by cinching his own arms tight around Eddie’s waist. He takes one sharp breath, and then another, and Eddie can hear the way they shake going in and out.
“There you go,” Eddie says quietly, rubbing Steve’s back.
“I just dropped it,” Steve says, his voice a little hoarse. “It was an accident.”
“I know it was,” Eddie assures him. “It’s okay.”
“It was an accident,” Steve says again, and Eddie wonders how often someone has believed him – how often he’d ever even been given a chance to explain.
“It was an accident,” Eddie agrees. “You’re okay, Steve.”
Steve lets out a little noise, like maybe he’s trying to laugh, but then he pulls in another shuddery breath and rests his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. “Okay.”
In a little bit, Eddie might lead Steve to sit down on the couch, or maybe just take them both up to bed, because fuck doing the dishes after this anyway; he’ll make sure to leave a note for Wayne about the mug (ask him not to bring it up until Steve does, to not even jokingly make a thing about it), but for now, he concentrates on holding Steve close.
He’ll stand with him as long as it takes for the shaking to stop, for his breathing to even out, for him to relax even just a little against Eddie, and he'll promise, as many times as Steve needs to hear it, that it’s okay. Things will be okay.
[Prompt: Embracing your partner]
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Oh my god thinking about women who’s vibes r just immaculate and how I absorb traits and how that turned out at college
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Baby Daddy || Jacob Elordi x reader
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Summary: Jacob being a protective dad 😌
Warnings: fem!reader
Wc: 475
A/n: can we just agree that Jacob holding a small baby in his HUGE arms would be the cutest and hottest thing ever 😃😭 I need to see this irl. Posting a Coryo fic later today!!! Also really need to do a Jacob Elordi masterlist lol, will do later today!
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Emerging from the grocery store, you held bags in both hands while Jacob effortlessly juggled your one-year-old daughter in one arm and a bag of groceries in the other.
The California sun casts a warm glow as you make your way to the car, Jacob holding your precious daughter, Sydney, in his strong arms. His large frame makes her appear even tinier as he cradles her close.
As you approach the car, Jacob’s keen eyes spot a group of paparazzi in the distance. He instinctively shields Sydney’s face, a protective gesture you’ve both mastered in these public moments.
Jacob glances at you, concern in your eyes, “We should be fine, they’re far away anyways,” Jacob assures you as you unlock the car.
As Jacob secures Sydney in the car seat, you glance over at the paparazzi. Some of them notice Jacob’s protective actions and start snapping pictures even more eagerly.
You could feel their invasive gaze, but your focus remained on Sydney, shielding her from the intrusive lenses from the front seat of the car.
As Jacob buckled up your daughter, he could sense you were uncomfortable, glancing at the paparazzi from time to time. He knew how much it meant to you to keep Sydney’s upbringing away from cameras as much as possible.
“I’m going to go talk to them,” Jacob says as you look at him with surprise. “Are you sure?” You lightly bite your lip as he nods, “Yeah, I’ll be quick,” Is all he says before he shuts the door.
You watch as Jacob makes his way to the group of paparazzi. You couldn’t hear what was being said of course but they seemed understanding about what Jacob was saying to them.
Jacob approached the group with a calm but firm demeanour. “Hey guys, I’m not sure if you’re aware but Y/n and I want to keep our daughter away from the public eyes as much as possible. And I know this is your job but could you please make sure to blur out Sydney’s face in the photos you’ve taken?”
One of the paparazzi’s, seemingly more considerate than the rest, responded, “Sure thing, Jacob. I don’t think we managed to photograph your daughter’s face,” He and the others all take a look through the photo’s they’ve taken whilst showing Jacob.
“But if we find one, we’ll make sure her face is blurred. No problem.” The man says as Jacob nods. “I appreciate it. Have a good day guys.”
As Jacob walked back to the car, you exchanged a relieved glance. As he climbs into the car, you felt a mixture of gratitude and exhaustion from the constant vigilance required to protect your family’s privacy.
You intertwine your hands with Jacob’s, expressing your gratitude, “Thank you for handling that.” A grateful smile adorns your face as he grins, bringing your intertwined hands close to his face and gently kissing your hand.
“Of course, I don’t need to think twice about doing something like that to protect Sydney,” Jacob affirms. He adjusts the rearview mirror, stealing a glance at Sydney in her car seat. Her curious eyes are fixed on the window, captivated by the passing palm trees.
Later that day, you were sent a tweet from Jacob’s sister. It’s from one of the paparazzi who interacted with Jacob earlier. The post details the encounter and emphasises Jacob’s kindness in handling the situation.
The tweet read, “Just had a run-in with Jacob Elordi, and gotta say, he’s one of the nicest celebs I’ve encountered. Asked us to blur out his daughter’s face, and even though we’re paparazzi, he handled it with grace. Big respect for him!”
As you read through the comments, you couldn’t help but smile at the overwhelming support from Jacob’s fans. Messages of admiration for his commitment to Sydney’s privacy flooded the comment section.
yourusername
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Liked by jacobelordi, caileespaeny, hbo, zendaya, sydney_sweeney and 10,937,274 others
👶🍼💗💋🧸
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jacobelordi: love you both so much ❤️
↘️ yourusername: 💗
caileespaeny: aweee
sydney_sweeney: I need to see little Syd like rn 😭
↘️ yourusername: your godchild misses you!
↘️ user1: Is anyone just finding out now that Sydney Sweeney is the the god mother of Jacob Elordi and Y/n Y/l/n’s daughter 😃
↘️ user2: I mean, it kinda makes sense ngl. Y/n and Sydney are childhood besties and then she names her own kid after her best friend.
user3: sometimes I forget Jacob Elordi isn’t single and has a child
user4: those recent pictures of him holding Sydney is doing something to me 🙂
↘️ user5: RIGHT!
↘️ user6: oh for sure.
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amoreva · 3 months
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KISS THE GIRL
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—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–
pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader
summary: two times luke knows he’s in love with you + one time he can’t hold it in anymore
warnings: pre tlt luke, ooc luke
a/n: percy jackson 🔛🔝 (request some fics for the characters), i think i ended this terribly, but i’ll fix it later at some point!
—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–
I. SCAR
“You are an idiot.”
That’s the first thing Luke hears when he wakes up in the Camp’s infirmary. He feels groggy, sluggish and slow and barely registered that you were in the room.
He faintly tasted his mother’s cooking. A small comfort for the consequences of failing his quest. His heart is filled with embarrassment and pity and dejection.
You snapped your fingers by his ears. “I know you’re awake. You hear me? You are an idiot!”
“If you’re here to make fun of me failing my quest, go away.” Luke groaned and turned on his side, despite the pain flaring in his abdomen.
"Luke." You said in a much softer tone. You were concerned about his injuries since he returned from the quest. "You know I wouldn't do that, not with something this serious.”
You helped him sit up in the infirmary bed and cup his cheek. He felt a gauze patch rather then your warm palm on his right cheek. “I’m saying you’re an idiot for not letting me come with you!”
“You can’t do everything by yourself.”
Love is fickle and strange thing. Luke and you promised that if either of you went on a quest, you’d bring each other. Yet, Luke couldn’t keep his promise.
He couldn’t see his girl—best friend, his best friend get hurt because of a stupid promise. He wouldn’t forgive himself if you went out he quest and got injured in some way, shape or form.
Even if you hadn’t gotten hurt, he might’ve— he would’ve gotten worse injuries from being distracted by your beauty. He could never tear his eyes from you whenever you entered the room.
In hindsight, it was a really bad way to go about things.
“I’m fine, aren’t I?” Luke responded and couldn’t hold himself back. He interlaced his fingers with yours, knowing you were still pissed when he didn’t choose you or anyone, for that matter, to join him on his quest to retrieve a Golden Apple from the Garden of Hesperides.
He resented his father and the gods for not caring for his wellbeing during the quest.
“Yes, but—” You protested.
At least you cared for his wellbeing. You caring about him was better than any god or goddess on Olympus.
His eyes softened. His mind screaming the words he was too scared to say to you out loud. “I love you.” He loved you for caring about his wellbeing. His safety.
“Yes, but nothing.” Luke retaliated and squeezed your hand to assure you. “I’m okay, I’m alive and have some cool ass scars now.”
Luke grinned as he was able to produce a laugh from you. Your laugh was like music to his ears. His own ambrosia in human form.
“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes playfully.
“Never.”
II. SPARRING
“Again.” Luke demanded as he pointed the celestial bronze sword at your throat. The sun beating down on the two of you as you trained. A past time as the days got boring.
“Fuck off.” You scoffed and laid back in the grass that laid beneath the pair’s feet. The grass tickling your arms and legs.
“C’mon! Up and at it. The momentum will wear off.” Luke helplessly convinced you to try and spar him again.
“Oh no, what ever will we do?” Sarcasm bled through your tone. You pushed yourself to sit up and leaned against the rack contained to celestial bronze swords.
Luke shook his head and grinned. He pushed back his chocolate curls to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He joined you on the grassy floor.
“Five minute break then.” Luke nodded.
“Ten minutes.” You negotiated and looked over at Luke. His scar was healing nicely, no infections—just a clean cut from his eye to his jaw. “You can’t expect to be up and at it after training with the greatest swordsman for an hour straight.”
Maybe it was the heat or maybe it was from the training. Luke’s cheeks became pink. He knew his siblings and other demigods talked about him being the “greatest swordsman”, but hearing it from you was different.
“You think I’m the greatest swordsman?” Luke said with a teasing grin.
“Not after I’m done with you.”
“Say that to the many times you hit the floor.”
“I was going easy on you!”
Luke and you burst out in laughter at your banter, unable to keep a serious conversation. He thought your laughter could brighten up the Underworld. Hades would even agree.
Again, those three words would cross his mind. “I love you.” He loved bantering with you back and forth. How dare he try to ruin the moment with his romantic phrases.
“C’mon!” You huffed and pushed yourself to stand up. You were obliviously to the admiration in his eyes. The celestial bronze sword gripped loosely in your hand.
“What happened to the ten minutes?” Luke titled his head up only slightly to look at you. A stupid grin on his face. He stood up to get in position
“I can train when I damn want too.”
“Don’t start complaining about being tired then.”
He never tore his eyes away from yours as you thrusted the blade at his torso.
III. STARS
Luke had no idea where the line between lover and friendship was crossed. He had absolutely no idea when he started to see you more as a crush rather than his best friend.
Though he did notice his stomach started to twist and turn every time he saw you. He noticed his heart raced a little faster every time he heard your laugh.
Luke found himself gravitating towards you during dinner, training, capture the flag—like a moth to burning flame. Would he find himself getting burned for pursuing you?
“Hey.”
Luke spoke as the wooden dock creaked beneath his feet. You were sitting on the edge of the dock. The night sky lit up with tiny bright lights. You gave him a smile (one that could melt his heart) and patted the space next to you.
“You doing okay?” Luke asked and sat next to you. His leg touching yours. The lake rippled. The moonlight shining down on it.
“I just—needed a break.” You reassure Luke. “From gods, goddesses, prophecies, quests…all of it.”
The chirps and cheeps of the birds and animals filled the silence. A background noise. Luke felt your head lean against his shoulder. His heart beat quicker. He hesitantly wrapped his arm around your shoulder. Comfort, he convinced himself.
“You can’t really escape being a half-blood.” Luke consulted and rubbed his hand up and down your arm. You hummed in agreement.
You were quite glad Luke joined you. These nights on the dock, after dinner, were getting lonely. The silence is comfortable save for the wildlife in the forest.
Faintly, ever so faintly, you heard Luke speak three words. Three words you would never hear from him.
“I love you…”
Gods.
He didn’t even realize it. His lips were making the consonants and vowel sounds. Luke didn’t know until you picked up your head from his shoulder. Your eyes wide with shock and what he had hoped was…relief.
“What…?” You mumbled.
Did he just ruin his friendship with you? Did he just lose his best friend because he said his thoughts out loud? Luke thought he had better control over that.
“What?” He responded and let his arm fall from your shoulders.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
“Luke.”
His breath hitched. He felt lovesick. Like Aphrodite personally made his body malfunction during this moment. “I…”
“I love you…” Luke avoided your gaze like he was ashamed to have a crush on you.
How did you feel? Would you reject him in a heart beat? Would you ridicule him? Thoughts swam his mind.
Before he could get too into his head, he felt a soft pair of lips pressed against his. Your eyes closed and he willed himself to close his eyes as well. Melting, melting into your touch, your lips.
When you pulled away, his eyes opened. He was graced with the sight of you in the moonlight. “What?” He spoke breathlessly.
“What?” You responded slightly confused and scared you made the moment uncomfortable.
“You…” Luke paused and closed his mouth as he tried to formulate the words. To form a coherent thought. He just…he wanted that to never end. He finally got what he yearned for (and he wasn’t rejected?). He got you.
“Is this real?” Luke asked and you laughed. His stomach churned with butterflies.
“Yes!” You answered and interlaced your fingers with his.
“May I?”
“You’d be a pretty bad demigod if you didn’t.”
And once again, Luke got the kiss the girl. He got the kiss the girl he been pining over for gods know how long.
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