#[CRACK.] “IT’S THE SILLY THINGS IN LIFE.”

[andy-15-07]

Hi I have a request. One where Joel the reader and others notice how he’s gotten softer and more open as they’ve fallen in love and been in a relationship. She’s noticed in how open he is expressing his feelings (he has a specific softer tone when speaking to or about her, smiles more, talks more about his life pre outbreak the good times and bad) and how silly he can get sometimes and makes jokes just to make her or Ellie laugh. Joel has noticed in how people view him differently. Ellie still cracks jokes but she appreciates reader for helping Joel heal and realize that he’s a good man who deserves someone. Tommy notices it and points it out - not in a teasing way but proud of Joel for trying again and opening himself up to love again. People around Jackson no longer view Joel as this stoic and hardened man - a man they usually steered clear of unless they had to interact with him on patrols or other reasons related to Jackson community

What Soft Means

PAIRING: Joel Miller x reader

WORD COUNT: 922| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist | Pedro Pascal Masterlist II

Joel Miller Masterlist

You notice it first in the little things.

The way his voice changes when he says your name , lower, almost tender, like he’s tasting the word every time. The way he slips a hand over yours at the dinner table, thumb brushing your knuckles like a secret apology for all the times he forgot how to be gentle.

You notice it in the way he laughs now, too , really laughs, not that sharp huff he used to let out when someone cracked a joke he didn’t care about. Now he throws his head back sometimes. Grins wide enough to show the tooth he chipped years ago. You like that grin. You think it’s the truest thing about him.

He doesn’t hide as much anymore. Not from you, not from Ellie, not from the people in Jackson who used to cross the street when they saw him coming.

It used to be people’d only speak to him when they needed a strong back or a steady gun. They’d nod, mutter “Joel,” and move along. He liked it that way. He told you once it kept things clean , no pretending to be something he wasn’t.

But now , now folks nod and linger. Ask him about the greenhouse he’s helping rebuild. Ask him if he’s got plans for the dance next month. Some bold soul even asked him for advice on growing tomatoes last week.

Joel Miller. Giving gardening advice. You nearly laughed yourself off the porch when he told you. He’d rolled his eyes, but you caught the edge of pride in his smile.

Ellie notices it too. Of course she does , she’s got eyes like razors when it comes to him.

One night she corners you in the kitchen when Joel’s out back chopping wood. She’s grinning, arms folded, like she’s been waiting to say it for weeks.

“You know you turned him soft, right?” she says.

You blink at her over your mug of tea. “Soft, huh?”

“Yeah.” She shrugs. “Not in a bad way. Just… he talks more. Jokes more. Did you hear him this morning? Singing Johnny Cash while making eggs? Old man’s a sap.”

You try not to smile. Fail miserably. “Glad you approve.”

She rolls her eyes, but her grin softens. “He’s better with you. I mean it. He laughs. He sleeps more than three hours a night. I don’t have to worry about him losing his mind if I’m gone too long ‘cause he knows you’ll kick his ass if he does.”

She nudges your arm on the way out. “You’re good for him. He knows it, too.”

Tommy sees it plain as day. He says so one afternoon while you’re all patching up a fence near the horses.

Joel’s got his sleeves rolled up, sweat on his brow, eyes squinting at a loose hinge like it’s a puzzle only he can solve.

Tommy leans his forearms on the top rail next to you, watches his brother for a minute before he says, low, like it’s just for you , “Ain’t seen him like this since before Sarah.”

You freeze at the name. Joel doesn’t talk about her often, but when he does, it’s always in that same soft tone.

“He’s… lighter,” Tommy goes on. He gives you a sidelong look , grateful, almost. “You done good for him. He needed to remember he’s still got a heart. That he’s still allowed to love somethin’ good.”

You swallow around the ache in your throat. “He did that himself, Tommy. I just,”

“Nah.” Tommy shakes his head. “He’s a stubborn bastard. He’d never’ve let himself get here without someone pullin’ him through.”

Joel glances back then, catches you and Tommy watching him. He frowns, suspicious , then you raise your hand, give him a little wave, and his whole face changes. His mouth twitches up, eyes crinkling like he’s fighting the smile but he loses the battle anyway.

Tommy claps you on the shoulder. “See? Told ya. Soft.”

Sometimes you see it most when it’s just the two of you. When you’re lying in bed after midnight, legs tangled, his voice rumbling low about his old guitar, about Sarah’s laugh, about how when the outbreak hit he’d have given anything to keep her from seeing what the world became.

He tells you about good things too , about road trips to Galveston when he was a boy, about fishing with his daddy, about the way the Texas heat felt different before the world fell apart.

Once, he tells you something he’s never said aloud. He wants to build a little cabin in the woods someday. Just a place for the three of you , you, him, Ellie , somewhere quiet where they can grow old, where nobody can take it away.

You tease him about it the next morning , “Joel Miller, dreaming about rocking chairs on a porch? Soft.”

He just pulls you close, presses a kiss to your hair, and murmurs, “Only ‘cause of you, darlin’. Only ‘cause of you.”

People say the end of the world makes you hard. Makes you mean. Makes you cruel. Maybe that’s true for most.

But for Joel Miller , the man who used to walk these streets like he was carrying the weight of every grave he ever dug , the end of the world led him to you. And loving you cracked him open like a sunrise.

Soft. Open. Laughing.

And maybe that’s the bravest thing a man like him could ever be.

[d3cay1ngst4tic]

✦ SWEET SUMMER WINDS,

DO BLOW MY WAY.

synopsis. hands sting, sometimes, don’t they? lingering about in places that are still raw. still real. even though you want to believe otherwise.

but sometimes, hands can be tender, too— unbearably so, whilst they cradle the shattered little thing you have for a heart. luckily for you, two pairs of hands are here— a certain furball with a sleazy grin, and the bag of warmth he carries about.

hands that’ll stay. as long as you need them to.

contents. satoru gojo x gn!reader. teen!satoru. teen!reader. featuring smolgumi and smolmiki. fluff. crack. hurt/comfort. just a bunch of drabbles featuring our sillies trying to figure out how to figure out life whilst being in a very functional family.

★ jiah’s notes. i didn’t intend to make this a mini series, but here we are. feel free to bully me if i get behind on other series. c: by the way, these can be read as stand-alone drabbles that happen in the same au.

FOR THESE HANDS TURN GRAY WHEN YOU TURN AWAY.

synopsis. sometimes, satoru thinks that you’re hell bent upon depriving him of his source of nutrient. [fluff, crack]

IN THE HOLLOW OF YOUR THROAT IS WHERE I BELONG.

synopsis. when the fire gets too loud, satoru and you find a way to remind yourselves that a piece of youth still blooms in the flowers that lie beneath. [hurt/comfort]

. . . more to come !

★ tag list. @satorus-princess / @maybemethebeloved / @virgothesimp / comment to be added.

@d3cay1ngst4tic on tumblr. do not copy or post any of my works.

[tempe-brennans]

walking in the wind

summary: you stumble when your grandfather dies. clark picks you up.

author's note: this was inspired by the fact that my grandpa died and i went to watch superman with my fiance. i haven't written since january though so please be nice <3

Clark misses the funeral.

He doesn’t mean to. The crisis of the day had taken too long, and regret flares deeper in his chest when he sees your hunched shoulders, your glazed over eyes and blank stare.

He’d have done anything to have been able to be the steady presence at your back, the well you could have drawn from to get you through.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” Clark says as he sits on the hard stone wall beside you, feet dragging the ground. “I so wanted to be here.”

Knowing his secret, you simply nod. “I know. It’s okay.”

“How did it go?”

It’s a stupid question, a flat one in the face of the magnitude of your loss, but it’s all he can think of.

“It was nice. Simple. I think he would have liked it.”

He nods. “I’m sure he would have.”

Your gaze is still locked on some unknown point in front of you. Clark wishes you’d look at him, wishes he could fly into your eyes like he flies around the world and brush the sadness away.

“He used my eulogy.”

“Yeah?”

Then, you look at him. Your face looks for all the world like a child’s–lost, looking for something–someone–that can’t be found.

You nod. “Yeah.”

“It was beautiful.”

You had let Clark see it. You shared your other pieces occasionally, but Clark was the only one who got to discuss your writing with you. It was an honor.

“Thank you,” you murmur, offhanded. “It doesn’t seem like it was my place.”

“Why?”

You shrug, look away from him and find that spot again “Who am I to sum up his life?”

Gently, Clark’s fingers curl under your chin, turn you to face him. “You were someone to him. Besides that, you did it wonderfully, with the skill of someone who knew him well.”

“I wanted to do right by him.”

“And you did. I promise.”

Your bottom lip quivers in the way it always does when you want desperately to cry. Clark knows you won’t let yourself fall apart–not here. That’s reserved for later, in the quiet dark, with Clark’s body curled around yours.

Another honor–to catch you when you fall. The honor of his life.

Instead, you simply hum. “I know.” Then, “I’ve been thinking it should feel like something else.” You pause, shake your head. “This unshakable man is gone and it just feels…like nothing. Shouldn’t it be more–I don’t know–dramatic?”

Clark shakes his head. “Not necessarily. Grief can feel differently for everyone.”

“I think I’m doing it wrong.”

“You’re not doing it wrong,” Clark says, voice sure. “It’s just new. Your feet aren’t under you yet. You’ll find your way through it.”

You nod. “He would expect it.”

“More than that,” Clark says, voice soft, “he would know you could do it. He would believe in you.”

He sees something in your eyes crack.

“I’m so sad he’s not in the world anymore,” you whisper. “It seems like he’s just off to the side, and we should all be waiting for him to come back. But, that’s not true. He’s just gone.” Your voice shakes, and it twists something deep inside Clark’s chest.

“I know, baby.”

You shake your head. “It’s this big untouchable thing that I can’t wrap my head around. I feel so silly.”

“Hey.” Clark’s hand squeezes your thigh. “You’re not silly.” He shrugs. “This is brand new, and it’s uncharted territory for you–grief always is. Some people feel it sharply, some feel it crushingly. And, some people, completely valid people, feel it like an emptiness, or an echo. That doesn’t make their grief any less painful–or their love any less real.”

“It doesn’t?”

Clark shakes his head. “He was so big for you–for everyone that knew him. It takes time for your heart to catch up to a loss like that. You don’t have to rush it. You just have to feel it as it comes.”

“I just wish he was here. I wish he hadn’t left.”

Clark nudges your shoulder with his own.

“Someone had to go first.”

“Hm?”

“Someone had to go first,” he repeats. “Your grandfather was the type of man to go ahead. He would have scouted the path and made a way for the rest of you." His hand finds yours, fingers interlocking with your own. “It isn’t much of a comfort, I know. But, knowing he’s out there somewhere? Just up ahead?” Clark shrugs. “I think it makes it a little less scary to keep going.”

Your head falls to his shoulder, rests against the crook of his neck. “It does,” you murmur. “Everything was less scary when he was around.”

“It’ll get easier, honey.” He nods, squeezes your hand. “I promise it will.”

“Thank you, Clark.” You squeeze it hand back. “Really.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” He leans over, presses a kiss to your head. “Any time you need to talk, I’ll always be there for you.”

You smile. He feels it in the slightest movement of your cheek against his shoulder. “I know.”

When he thinks about it, really, however many times he saves the world, the times he saves you are what mean the most to him.

He wraps an arm around your shoulders, holds you close to him, and the two of you watch the sun go down.

[ratmillkk]

Earn It (Ben Drowned X F!Reader)

𝐂𝐖: fingering, brief bj, controller vibrator, sex by a fireplace, creampie, vaginal penetration

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.8 k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Ben invites you to play games by the fire during the cold winter in the mansion. You fight over who gets to play Link in SSB before he tells you, you have to earn it instead

You never really liked winter. It was always too cold, too sickly, too annoyingly wet and snowy. You hated how your socks were always wet when you came inside, how your body ached and prickled with the freezing temperatures that made you yearn for warmth. It was your least favorite time of year by far, and this was your first in the mansion. It was an old mansion and the insulation was most definitely not enough to keep you warm, so oftentimes, everyone would light fires in the lounge areas, and sit together when there wasn't any commotion. Those were the times the mansion seemed oddly peaceful.

Hoodie, Toby and Masky often occupied the west wing, their area full of warmth from the boys having the best survival skills out of them all. Their fire always roared, crackled and ribboned with embers as the wind traveled through the cracks of the mansion's unsealed windows. Their wing was the warmest, and often people would migrate there for some shared refuge from the cold. Jeff, though, always steered clear of it, since he thought he didn't need help sustaining himself, he could make his own damn fire. And he always did— or well— tried to at least. Jeff, Ben and EJ often kept to the East wing, the only thing keeping those two idiots safe from frostbite was EJ, who would light their fire when Jeff eventually gave up trying if he couldn't get it the first time.

You, though, stayed to yourself. You just relied on a blanket, space heater ((which didn't perform well)) and nice hot showers to keep you warm. You didn't really feel comfortable impeding on their spaces if you weren't invited, so you just stayed in your room most of the time if you weren't on a mission. It was lonely, except you had been making one friend so far the past month.

Ben. You had always found him interesting. His total opposite demeanor from the others really struck you as attractive. He wasn’t brooding, he wasn't stoic, he wasn't lifeless. He had this charm about him that you always admired, and he didn't hate, didn’t start fights. He just enjoyed his life as it was, he seemed happier than the rest of them, and it was a breath of fresh air in the thick of gloom and despair in every single other person in the mansion.

He was a space of comfort for you, a way to escape the depressing reality that was your life. And man was he good at distracting you, the two of you would often text, play video games from across the mansion together, but you had only ever seen each other in person a few times in passing. You weren’t ever able to stay for a chat, as you were always headed out when you crossed paths, but it didn't bother either of you. You were just happy to know there was someone in your corner that was reliable, and lifted your spirits. He was perfect for it.

It all led up to this day. This nipple hardening cold that zapped your nerves is something painful. You were already on your third hot shower of the day and you had already been spoken to about water waste, so a fourth shower wasn't an option. Your shitty space heater provided little refuge as its coils were weak and your blanket was wrapped around you snugly, like a caterpillar in a cocoon.

You had been scrolling on social media, mind numbingly bored while playing some silly mobile games when you got a text from Ben.

“You’re really gonna keep yourself cooped up in there? Come to the lounge room, there's a nice fire” The notification said. You adjusted your arms to both stick out from the blanket, a small smirk crept across your face.

“I’m fine where I’m at, thanks though” You replied, switching to tik tok to scroll mindlessly, but his name popped up once again.

“Bro is not warm and toasty, I can hear your teeth chattering from down here. NOW COME AND WARM UP” He stopped responding after that.

“Ben i’m fine really”

No answer

“Im not going down there, its too fuckin cold to move”

No answer

Begrudgingly, you stood up from your bed, carrying the entire bed spread with you as you waddled out of your room. The floor was so cold you feared your toes would fall off, the chill traveled up your legs and into your arms which were tightly holding the blanket in place, your whole body shook on the way down the stairs. Your legs trembled with every ounce of force you put onto them to travel step by step from how much you were shivering. It was torture.

You got to the bottom and ran as fast as you could, cocooned in your blanket as you shuffled across the hardwood. And then, there he was, but, you noticed.. Jeff and EJ weren’t there. Something in you felt a little.. nervous, meeting Ben here alone. Completely alone. He was sitting on the floor in front of the fire, the TV was already prepped with a game of Super Smash Bros waiting for you, two controllers sat in front of your pillow and one for himself in his hand.

“Come sit pretty lady” He patted your pillow.

A little smile brushed across your face “How did you know I was a Smash Bro’s champ?” You repostitioned the blanket, hurrying over near the fire to nuzzle up as close as possible while being able to see the TV screen enough to play properly.

“I do my research” He smirked. You couldn't help but find that smirk oddly adorable as you adjusted yourself. “Alright, who do you play as?” He asked you with a firm hand on either of his switch controllers.

“Link” You gave him a bashful smile

“NAH YOU CANT PLAY HIM”

“and why not?!” you crossed your arms

“because only iiii get to play Link”

“But he’s my favorite!!”

“and he's MY favorite too” Ben flashed you a playful glare.

“Okay okay— Rock paper scissors for him” you held your hands out. Left hand in a fist and right hand as a platform for the left to rest on.

“REALLY?!” He scoffed

“YES REALLY BRO, ITS ONLY FAIR” You gestured forward with your readied position

“Wow. WOW. You’re making me compete for my own character?” He smiled then, looking at you as if he were genuinely offended. “I can't believe you’ve done this”

“Oh the agony” You dramatically threw your hand to your head.

“The horrors!” He copied you.

The two of you laughed together for a moment, but then when your voices fell silent, you caught him staring. Your face flushed red.

“You alright..?”

He cleared his throat “Yeah—“ He held up his hands in rock paper scissors formation “Best out of three”

“Best out of three” You nodded once.

Rock. Paper. Scissors.

You chose scissors, he chose rock.

“HAH!!” He smashed his rock fist onto your scissor fingers “GOTCHA!!”

Your eyes rolled so hard they could have fallen out of their sockets “Right! But you forget we have two more rounds”

He frowned and furrowed his eyebrows, “You’re no fun”

“Come onnnn stop being a bad sport” You nudged his arm with your elbow.

“Fineee” He sighed.

Rock. Paper. Scissors.

You chose rock, and he chose scissors. You smashed your rock on HIS scissor fingers.

“YEAH!! I GOT YOU!!!”

“NAHH ONE MORE ONE MORE” He held his hands back out. You held yours out.

Rock. Paper… Scissors…?

You noticed. He wasn't playing. Your eyebrows knitted together while your head tilted just slightly

“You alright?" Your hands lowered to rest on your knees

Ben just smirked at you "Y'know what actually?” He lowered his hands, “I’m gonna make you earn it”

“W-what do you mean, earn it? I am earning it by beating you” You held up a rock fist.

You saw his body shift, left hand on your face, other on the floor to allow him to push himself forward. His eyes never left yours. His touch was tingly, a sensation you never knew, never knew you liked.

“I don't mean to earn it with a silly little hand game.. I mean earn it.. with a different kind of game” His touch made your body run hot, whether it was the fire next to you, or him.. You couldn't tell, until his lips met yours.

“Ben—“ You said, but it was too late, you couldn't pull away even if you wanted to, and you absolutely didn't want to..

The kiss was soft. It was gentle, at first. He was just testing the waters to see where he could go with you, but he wanted more. The second his lips touched yours his other hand raised to the other side of your face. He pulled away.

For a moment, you just stared up at him, blanket falling off of your shoulders and the only sounds near were the crackles of the fire. Your heart was racing, your body felt tingly, and the space between your legs grew to have the pressure of arousal beating through it. His thumb swished over your cheek.

Then, seemingly, subconsciously as if something had overtaken you, you reconnected the kiss yourself. Softly, you raised your hands into his blonde ruffly hair as your legs straddled him, sitting on his lap while the kiss grew stronger, deeper, full of something you were afraid to admit.

The elven boy's hand slowly, agonizingly slowly traveled from your face, down your neck, over your shoulder and to your back. You were just wearing a tank top, nothing more despite the cold of the mansion, therefore he could feel your skin with every moment, every tingle down your spine as his finger trailed down, and into your shirt.

He pulled away for just a moment, his eyelids hung low, a lazy smile and his fangs poking out just under his top lip, “Wearing such a revealing shirt in the cold huh?” He reconnected the kiss haphazardly, pulling away once again “Just for me?”

“This doesn’t seem to be solving our problem” Your fingers twirled his blonde hair in between your fingers, face just inches from his.

“Shh.. remember, you have to earn it, pretty girl” He stared right into your eyes.

In response you just pulled him back in. You didn't want to talk, you just wanted to taste him. The closeness made you realize, he smelled like cologne, and that's when it clicked for you that he had to have been planning this, had to have been hoping for something to happen between you two. You didn't care though, you’d play right into his game for however long he wanted you to.

Your reconnection of the kiss made his hands squeeze wherever he could reach, before something overcame him. You could tell the second the flip switched in his head when he promptly tore your shirt off of you, and tossed it to the side. He only pulled away to take his own shirt off, and then reconnected the kiss with much more aggression than before, desperation seeping through the way he shoved his tongue into your mouth.

His lips were so soft, so kissable and so addictive. You couldn't help but whine into his mouth while he lowered you down onto your back, his hands fiddled with the strings of your sweatpants, and pulled the tie loose to give him access to the inside. His cold hand sent a sudden shock through your stomach as it traveled down to your cunt, rubbing in circles through each fold. He couldn't help but smile with a lazy laugh into your mouth as he felt just how wet you were just from making out with him, that lead to his fingers slipping through your slit, stretching you open just slightly, he hummed deeply when you whimpered.

The kiss was broken when he lifted his head up to look down at you. The sight of you under him, face contorted and full of pleasure made his pace speed up. “Yeah..” he hummed low and deeply, as his cock grew hard in his grey sweats. The print was obvious, it was sticking so far out it looked like a tent at his crotch, about to rip open and tear into you. But not yet. He wanted to play with you some more.

His fingers were soaked in your slick, pulling out of you just to slowly, seductively slip them into your mouth. Your lips wrapped around them tightly, tongue lapping up your juice “Tastes good huh?” He hummed, “Makes me wanna taste you myself”

His hands then traveled down to your waistband, and slipped off your clothes entirely. Under him was the prettiest pussy he had ever seen, it couldn't compare to the porn. Not by a mile. This was perfect. You were perfect. You noticed his cock twitch in his pants when he laid eyes on your cunt, and god did you crave it inside you.

He caught you eyeing it, “Not yet pretty girl” He leaned down, head hovering just above your cunt as he eyed up at you, seeing how you’d react if he just stayed there. To his delight, your hips connected to his mouth, and from there, he didn't play anymore. His tongue immediately started ravaging your clit as if it was his first and last meal, tongue wet and warm as his head bobbed between your legs.

You were reeling already, jaw open with soft moans pouring out as you felt him absolutely devour you. It was so hard not to make too much noise, you didn't know if someone would be nearby, but Ben wasn't messing around. He knew you were holding back, and that wasn't gonna fly. Ben adjusted his right elbow to hold his weight on the floor as his other hand shoved three whole fingers into your pussy, pumping them in and out furiously.

That's what broke you. Your walls dropped, and the pleasure overtook you as your body began shaking, moans growing louder, and your hips rutted against him for more friction. Your orgasm was approaching, and fast. So fast embarrassment washed over you as your core started tightening, but, just before the release, you felt a sudden empty feeling inside you. The freezing air on your pussy made you squeeze your legs shut, but unexpectedly , Ben's head wasn't there. His head wasn't between your legs at all like you thought, and when your eyes snapped open, you saw him standing over you.

He had straddled your chest so fast, you didn't even know it happened until you were face to face with his cock. It loomed over you, hard as stone and leaking with that sticky clear liquid.

“My turn baby” He said lowly, breathily, like he was out of breath from just waiting to be inside you. Like the thought of it got him so hot and bothered it made him short-winded, “You can’t cum until you earn it” He pushed his cock into your lips. Your jaw stretched open, agape with your eyes never leaving his. The moment he felt your warm, wet tongue he groaned as if he was already about to cum “Yeah, take this fucking cock, pretty girl” He thrusted slowly, gently but you could tell from his contorted facial expression, he was aching for more. The way his hands curled into your hair to hold you in place, the way his jaw went slack, and his clenched fist by his side gave it all away.

You started bobbing your head faster, and to your delight his noises grew in volume with such grit and growl to them, you felt your pussy ache and throb for him all over again. His cock was enough to make your jaw muscles strain from how wide you had to hold your mouth open, you didn't even have room to swallow your spit, so it just streamed out from your bottom lip all over your tits as his thrusts matched your bobbing motions.

“Yeah. Yeeeahh—“ He smiled into it, chuckling softly “God you feel so good baby, keep doing it just like that. Mmm..” His thrusts grew harder, you could feel his nuts hitting your chin as you struggled to keep your mouth open any longer. You couldn't believe he had a cock like this. It was gargantuan, and wasn't overly large. But it was big enough to make your eyes water from the muscle strain as the tip hit your uvula. That's when you gagged, saliva pooling all around him, but he didnt pull out, didnt give a fuck if you gagged on it. In fact, the gag made him go deeper, faster, thrusting so hard your vision of his stomach blurred with the background of the fire behind him.

You couldn't handle it anymore, you whimpered, whined and squirmed, but just as soon as you started. He immediately pulled out of your mouth and got off of you. At first you wondered if he was done, but you were proven wrong very, very quickly when he crawled around where his hips hovered over your aching cunt. Excitement spiked in you, eyes widening involuntarily as your lips pursed together, and your eyes peered intently at his throbbing cock.

“I’d say.. You’ve earned it now” He abruptly yanked you up and shoved the pillow under your ass, before so rudely slamming his cock into you. He didn't even line it up, didn't ease in, he just made himself welcome inside your gooey walls. The initial stretch made your back arch, eyes roll and your jaw slacken with the most guttural moan you had ever uttered in your life.

The first thrust immediately sent a chill down your spine. It was so intense you had to grab onto the rug, the carpet fibers intertwined between your fingers like hair as you felt the fullness in your cunt.

“Oh my god—“ You muttered, almost incoherently while his thrusts began deepening.

He wasn't quiet either, his groans were broken, breath heavy and full of his own overwhelming pleasure leaking from just his voice alone. His hands gripped your thighs as he used them to pull you in and to push himself forward, further deepening his cock into you over and over. His movements were soft at first, you were so tight it almost hurt, and he had to loosen you up with his slow gentle pace.

Ben looked down at you, smiling ever so softly with his eyes meeting yours, “You look so pretty underneath me” He muttered before you saw his face darken just slightly, and he rammed once into you as hard as he could without actually hurting you. The way you yelped, the way your eyes widened and back arched made him chuckle down at you. It was almost derogatory. Like he was teasing you for being such a sensitive play thing.

He hummed and came to a slow stop for a second. His eyes darted around for just a moment before he reached over to the switch controllers, grabbing one of them. You were a little confused, what could he be— oh.

The second you heard the controller begin buzzing a loud, continuous rumble, your face flushed red and you adjusted yourself to spread your legs wider open for him.

He smirked over you, he loved— no, absolutely adored and fawned over the way you opened up for him. The controller met your cunt, and he rubbed it over your in light circles

“Feel good baby?” He started thrusting again, slowly, looking down at the way you appeared to be going braindead with pleasure. “Yeah.. that's it” He groaned when the vibrations reached his cock. He was twitching slightly, just like you were, and his head rolled back as his moans shakily fell from his mouth.

The sight of him above you, the way his head was back and his hair fell so perfectly over his face, the feeling of his cock and the vibrator against and in you made your orgasm rapidly claw up your stomach in its buildup. Pathetic. You felt absolutely pathetic under him, and you loved it.

Ben, though, seemed to love it more. You were surprised when he abruptly leaned forward, thrusting harder into you as he kissed you, tongue sliding into your mouth as now, he was growing desperate. You felt his thrusts grow into full slams, his cock hitting the perfect spots inside your gooey walls that hugged him so tightly he couldn't get enough. You wrapped your legs around him, the controller now fastened against you with his pelvis holding it in place for him while he used his free hands to hold himself up, and the other to tangle up in your hair.

Your moans were so erratic you couldn't even kiss him properly, but he still pressed his lips against yours even despite it, still shoved his tongue in and out of your mouth.

His hips curled into yours, over and over, cock twitching in and out as the ring of muscle clamped around him. You were about to cum, and he could tell. The way your hands found his back, scratched down it desperately in an attempt to hold him in place, your face had contorted into a tense, jaw clenched mix of pleasure and bashfulness as you then erupted. Your moans, rather than just spilling, now were firing out in loud spurts of curses.

“Thats a good— Oh fuck—“ He felt your cunt clench and throb around his length as it furiously thrusted into you. Ben was close, which meant business. His hand found your face, clamping a hand over your mouth, and thrusting like his life depended on it. Quick, hard, fast thrusts that even still, hit the deep spots that made you yelp.

“This pussy is mine— fucking— mine— God damn it—“ He growled, biting your ear with desperation as you felt him snap up forward one final time, groaning into your ear as he shot his cum deep into your cunt. He slowed, but didn't come to a full stop, he just stayed there for a moment, slow insertion and a slow pull out as he made sure he filled you all the way the fuck up.

It was only when he pulled out that you remembered exactly where you were. The fire crackling next to you, the TV on, the controllers strewn about, and both of your clothes scattered around you. You sat up groggily, still trying to recover from the event, smiling like a dork, face red and flustered. You felt so.. so fucking good.

“Speechless huh, baby?” He smirked at you, handing your clothes back “I’ll let you play Link. You earned it”

[kumasakka]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ 𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋𝐒 ! ❞

　april first, a day where many pull off pranks and jokes for fun — but no one expected that Aizawa Shota would participate in it yet without intention or Midoriya visits the house of Aizawa and meets his pregnant wife !

featuring. aizawa shota !

content. 1.6k wc , fluff fluff fluff , slight crack , misunderstanding between aizawa and 1A, reader is pregnant , safe for minors , spoiler free ( expect that eri plays a part in it ) , crappy writing , this was a request.

author’s note. I finally got this ahh request out of my askbox hell yeah! first and last time I’m writing about my hero academia, this is a one time thing guys. chae, you’re lucky that I love you…

　IT was April first, also known as April Fool's Day, where people prank their friends or family for a little fun in life. And that includes everyone. Although no one expects that the boring Aizawa would participate.

Actually, he didn't even intend to play games — to even join the fun and banter of those silly jokes. It was rather an accident, a misunderstanding caused by he himself because he forgot.

He forgot to add something.

"I'm going to stop teaching." he informed the class 1A.

But unfortunately he forgot to mention on crucial and important detail. He is entirely stopping, just taking a break for a short while as their homeroom teacher and teacher in general.

"HUH? WHAT?"

For once in a lifetime, the class was able to unite and scream the same question simultaneously. Everyone but Bakugo Katsuki of course. And Todoroki Shoto. Close to the entire class.

Should he say it? Ah nevermind, he's too tired for that.

Yes, Aizawa Shota decided it was a good idea to leave that detail out because... Well because he is Aizawa Shota, someone who only holds his energy and sleep dear.

That's why Deku, or rather Midoriya Izuku decided to visit his good old teacher after finding out where he lives through a very trustable source (present mic).

　DING DONG !

Izuku's trembling finger slowly left the door bell as he stood in front of the entrance, which led into his teacher's house — the poor boy shaking in his boots in nervousness.

Should he turn back again? Should he leave? Why did the class assign him to come here again? Why is he even here?

It didn't take long until he heard quick steps towards the door as someone opened the door for him, making him flinch. Oh no, he should've run away when he still had the opportunity to.

"Who's there?"

The green-haired boy blinked rapidly, gaze falling to the girl who was kind enough to open the door for him. "E-Eri!?" he stuttered in relief and slight surprise.

Right, Eri did live with Aizawa because of her quirk. He totally forgot. "Deku-san..!" she called out in the same surprise, not expecting to see her hero standing in front of the door.

"Eri, didn't I tell you to not open the door for strangers?" another voice joined, this time more feminine and mature. "You've still got lots to learn."

It made Izuku froze on spot.

"A-Ah, i'm sorry..."

"No need to apologise, silly." the woman chuckled and ruffled Eri's head. "And may I ask, who are you?"

"I—" Izuku halted mid sentence, the sheer pressure too much to handle as he began to sweat.

He thought he was now better with social interactions!

"Take your time." you sweat dropped and send him an assuring smile, hand lasting on Eri's head while the child clung to your leg.

"Deku-san is my hero!" Eri chimed in, eyes still lit up at the sight of him. 

"Uh well so..! I-I'm Midoriya Izuku... Hero name is Deku..." he introduced himself, tripping over his own words and stuttering as if he is still the same boy he was in middle school.

"Oh, Midoriya Izuku? There rings a bell..." you hummed for a second, "aren't Shota's student?"

"I am..!" he quickly replied.

"Come in, come in." you offered him space to step in, "Shota isn't home at the moment. But he should be here any moment. Until then, you can wait for him in the living room."

"T-Thank you!" he stammered, still hesitating to step a foot into the house.

"I will prepare you a snack if you'd like." you didn't wait for his answer and already made your merry way into the kitchen after he closed the door. "Eri will show you the way!"

"What are you doing here, Deku-san?" the little girl questioned, fluttering her eyes in a curious way.

"Ah I'm here to bid Aizawa-sensei a proper farewell..." he trailed off and followed Eri into the living room.

"What farewell?"

"He's going to stop as a teacher..."

It feels weird for those words to leave his mouth, feeling a little too sad about the whole thing. Izuku's eyes glaze all over the place and took in every detail — the furnishing was pretty and felt comfy.

Not too much, not too little.

"Here." Izuku's head snapped back to your voice as you placed down a cup of tea paired with some snacks.

"Can I... have some as well?" Eri tugged your sleeve, sitting across from the boy.

"It's too late for you and you already brushed your teeth." you sat down next to her and smiled, "but fine. Don't tell Shota about this."

"Yay."

"You have to brush your teeth again then, okay?" you turned back to the awkward boy again and introduced yourself, "I'm Aizawa [name]."

"As in..." he paused for a second, "sister? Or—"

"As in wife." you chuckled as he stared at you in awe.

"Aizawa-sensei is married?" he blinked curiously, the detail slowly getting progressed in his mind.

"Yeah, he isn't fond of telling others and he also wears the ring as a necklace rather on the finger since he fights hand in hand combat." you leaned your palm against your cheek as you watched Eri delightfully taking the sweets.

"Oh..!" he nodded with your words and started taking notes in his head, "how is it like? Having Aizawa-sensei as husband if I may ask?"

"Well, it's relaxed." your answer sounded simple, "he may not be home very often but he tries to be. Now that he quit as a teacher, he got more time for me and our baby."

"Ehh!? Baby..?" Izuku repeated, eyes widening in awe again. "You possibly didn't mean Eri with that, right?"

"No, no. That's my child." you laughed and patted Eri's head.

"Congratulations!" he immediately wished you and pulled out flowers from his bag — the flowers were a little dead because of the tight space but you can manage.

"Where did you get this from huh?"

The room filled itself with laughter, the sound of your quiet talking rang within the four walls and the dim light accompanied you over your heads, the atmosphere warm and almost too perfect.

"To be honest... They were for Aizawa-sensei because he said he's quitting as our teacher. But I think this occasion deserves the flowers more." he rubbed his neck sheepishly, his stiff figure slowly becoming comfortable with its surroundings.

"Thank you, Midoriya-san." your lips curled into a soft smile, appreciating the flowers.

"Please call me by my first name! And without honorific!" he twitched.

"Sure, then you also have to use my first name."

"W-What!? I errr— [name]-san." he blurted out cheeks heating up as he gazed his scarred hands.

"—I'm home."

The entrance door got shut loudly, echoing in the house as Aizawa entered his home. "Ah, Shota! Look who's visiting!" you grinned, not bothering to stand up as you stay seated.

"I know. I saw the shoes of Midoriya." the one and only Shota made his merry way into the living room, invisible vein popping on his forehead. "What are you doing here, brat?"

"Aizawa-sensei!" Izuku immediately stood up and bowed down deeply, a sign of respect. "I'm here to wish you well and congratulations... I just wanted you to know that you were the best teacher I ever had. The class will miss you..."

"He even came to give you flowers. But I got them now!" you chimed in and stood up, walking up to your husband.

"What's this for? I'm just leaving for a while, not forever."

"Huh." Izuku froze.

"Oh wait you thought he's leaving forever?" you blinked. "Didn't you clarify it properly, Shota?"

"Just forgot that part." he heaved out a sigh.

"Shota! You caused a massive misunderstanding!" you cried out and slapped his arm lightly. "Hey wait, didn't I say you should tie your hair? You can't even work properly with your hair in sight!"

"Please..." he frowned as you nagged him.

"I said you either tie your hair or I cut it." you walked behind him and began to tie it together for him.

"Hey, is Eri seriously eating sweets now? It's past her bedtime even."

Now this made you froze.

"Your eyes are getting so bad, Shota. I'm worried, stop using your quirk." you sweated.

“I can’t trust you anymore with Eri.”

“What!? Excuse me? I hate you!”

“You hate me?”

“It was a joke..! Err April fools?”

"Ehe!"

Izuku snapped out of his thoughts again as he faced the little girl who held her mouth, trying to cover her giggles. And then he looks back to the couple, green eyes glancing at their interactions.

His gaze wandered down to their hands as you stood in front of each while you held onto his hands, trying to catch his attention — so he wouldn't mind Eri still wide awake.

You were saying something, he wasn't able to listen. He already blocked out the voices, too focused on the moment. And then you let go of his hand, pressing your finger against his chest to scold at your husband.

He sweat dropped and pretended to not listen, still gazing at you though. Eyes filled with love, not annoyance or indifference. Aizawa didn't show it but he cared, he definitely cared.

Or else he wouldn't have put any effort to marry you and to start a little family with you. Or else he wouldn't have taken a break from his job as a teacher to keep you more company.

"Pfft..." he lets out a giggle beside Eri.

Midoriya Izuku knows that your child will grow up in a healthy environment.

© 2024 kumasakka — do not plagiarize , copy , modify , translate our work !

[swirlyyygal]

"Doll Dizzy!!" - First Chapter: "Meet Cutes"

You're a late university student in 1960's New York (Earth 828 but you don't exactly know all those details...). You're a pretty average gal, except for the fact that you have a major crush on the smartest guy of your time, Mr. Fantastic!! What was a silly fantasy becomes a reality when you meet him and you catch his eye. A collection of just random drabbles and stories from your life as Mr. Fantastics' secret lover!!

AU!Reed Richards x F!Reader

CW/Tags for the fic in a whole!!: NOT PROOFREAD, AU is tagged bc he is not married to Sue in this universe I hate cheating fics they r the bane of my existence (ꐦ¬_¬), I try to be as accurate to the 60's aesthetic as I can, smut, fluff, protected and unprotected sexxx, oral f and m receiving, awkward meet ups, Reed Richards is a NERD, age gap, light dumbification, phone sex, reader is described to have hair and wear dresses, any names that are mentioned that aren't canon r just randomized they hold no special meaning tbh ┐(´ー｀)┌, "But.. Heres the thing" type jokes, reader is described to have a "doe eyed"

A/N!!: Guess who just finished watching the Fantastic 4. AHHHHHHHHHH ₍(˶˃ ᗜ ˂˶)⁾!!!!!! The movie in general was SOOOO GOOOOOD HOLLLYY PLZ GO WATCH THIS MOVIE!! Anyway during the whole movie I was like 'wow I need to be in here' AND THIS IS THE PHYSICAL MANIFESTATION OF IT! This will be multiple parts so please enjoy! Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated major!!

~~~

"So which member of the Fantastic Four is the cutest?"

A simple question said by your roommate/friend on a clear day out in the city.

"Well for me it's the Human Torch!"

She added with a sly giggle, you've been known. She was one of the first people in line for his magazine collaboration.

"Sue Storm is the best choice, c'mon think with your head!" Is what another visiting friend chimed in.

"The Thing is sweet- Oh wait but isn't he with that teacher lady?" The conversation drifted from there, over from the Human Torch, to Invisible Woman, to The Thing.

"I think Mr. Fantastic is quite handsome"

The room turned to you for a second, you thought this was a universal opinion, but from the confused looks, guess not.

"He's a little plain don't you think?"

"Too nerdy for my liking!"

"Speaking of that, I heard he's the smartest man in the whole world."

I mean, they weren't hating?... You would think they'd agree on him rather than The Thing- no disrespect. You just shrugged it off, in a way you sort of expected it. He didn't have many cool action figures like Johnny, no iconic TV line like Ben, not as many interviews as Sue. I mean yes he had a TV show, but it was kinda for science squares. Atleast, what everyone said it was. You watched it though, granted you didn't understand half of it, but it was nice sleeping noise. His voice was, intelligent if that made sense, a bit sexy too? Like he knew what he was talking about. And in interviews he sounded calm, yet detached.

Once you made it back you made it to your sanctuary, aka your room. A place where no one usually entered. And THANK HEAVENS because they would make fun of you till the cows came home… Lined on your soft blue walls were posters, magazine cutouts, and illustrations of the man himself. The dresser under your window held up collectables and miscellaneous toys modeled after him. You claimed a cousin gave them to you before you moved here, but you knew the real reason.

Even on your bedside table sat a framed heart picture of him. Cut out from his recent suit modeling. You definitely weren't stalker obsessed, but wayyyy on the fangirl side of it all. You slipped off your boots and fell onto your duvet covers. Maybe you were a little niche for liking him but so what!! Just as you were about to tune in to his scheduled programming, a knock came. Awh dang... You cracked open the door, peeking your head through. Your roomie was at the phone, covering the bottom while whispering to you.

"Shelly wants to know if you'll come with her to a special lecture tomorrow at likeeee, 3? She doesn't wanna go alone!"

"Why aren't you going?"

"I gotta date tomorrow, major stud!"

Arguing over that would be pointless, and you genuinely had nothing better to do. You mouthed yes and closed the door. Well, now you had plans for the day. Better than doing nothing you supposed.

~

God the rush you just had to go through was just such a pain! Well, it was kinda your fault.. Stupid merch alarm. You barely had time to do your hair, only the ends managed to curl and it looks sort of flat.. You stumbled over your gogo boots atleast 6 times down the flight of stairs. And you had to do your makeup on the monorail! By the time you got to campus your feet throbbed in pain, you had 4 minutes to spare. You pushed open the heavy wood door and clacked through the vinyl hall, looking down into your compact mirror. If it couldn't get any more stressful, BAM! You ran face first into some guys front, your left bottom lash falling off.

"SO SO SORRY I'M IN A RUSH!!"

You didn't bother looking up, just ran past him and quietly opened the lecture hall door. Your vision scanned the room, finally landing on Shelly in the front. Oh great. The front. You trotted down, ignoring some of the lingering looks to you being late. Finally you relaxed in your seat next to her, taking out your compact one last time. Oh God it smuged. In the rush you forgot to put any setting spray. AND YOUR LOWER LASH WAS ACTUALLY GONE GOD DAMN IT. It must have rubbed off on the guy you ran into. Felt sorry for the poor man.

"Alright everyone thank you for coming!"

Her professors voice was getting on your last nerve.

"Now students, please don't treat our special guest as if he's invisible. He had to especially make sure that his presentation wouldn't stretch past your evenings. But heres the thing, he is always on fire, top of his game infact! So you all won't have to worry about that!"

His words sounded... Weird. Something so familiar but you couldn't quite put your finger on it...

"Now I'll stop with the stalling. Here is our fantastic special guest! Mr. Fantastic!"

You heart STOPPED. WHAT. You turned to look at Shelly, and Shelly looked at you, she knew about your love for him. But no way this was planned! She looked even more shocked than you did. You prayed it was a joke, you definitely did NOT want him to see you like this. Not your celebrity boyfriend!? But here he did, he walked through the back door with a friendly wave. The audience erupted in applause. You did too. Heart thumping and face getting hot.

"Good afternoon folks, it's a pleasure to be here standing infront of the scientists of our future"

He scanned the crowd, giving everyone a smile. You waited till he looked to the front. And for a split second it felt like your world stopped. Maybe it was your head playing tricks, or your delusions getting to you. Bt he stared at your way longer than anyone else. That allowed you to really see him up close. Really take in his features. Sadly, it gave you realization. On his pristine white lab coat. There was a MAKEUP SMUDE of foundation and blue eyeshadow, and, recognizably, your lower lash. It made you want to slip into a black hole and DIE. The man you ran into and messed up his coat, was the savior of your city.. The first impression you ever made to him was a rushed excuse and a messed up look. Maybe he wasn't looking at your because he wanted you, it's because he was piecing together who the hell rammed into him back there.

He just gave you a friendly nod and moved onto saying hi to everyone else. Shelly looked at him, then you, then him, then you. "Awkward.." she snickered. KILL ME NOW. His speech began quite slow, giving everyone a small background on him and his team, then moving onto his profession besides being a superhero. He began talking about his discoveries in quantum physics, space travel, robotics, everything under the sun. What COULDN'T the man do?! And even if you didn't understand more than half of what he was saying, boy was it nice to listen to. It was nice to just listen to what sounded like mindless rambling. In all honesty, no one understand half of what he was talking about. Sure almost everyone in the room was a highly educated student, but the mind of Reed Richards was something incredible. Dare I say, fantastic?

Ew anyway. Your motto was fake it till you make it, and so was everyone else apparently. Notepads filled with nothing, furrowed brows, and some just genuinely made faces that screamed 'huh?'

Understanding the contents would have made this better, you'd have to catch up on your reading... By this time you had already forgot about your notes and just full on staring directly at his face. Maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you again, and definitely your delusions kicking in. But he kept looking at you, forgetting his talking place positions. His vision continuously fixated on you, actually, it was in patterns. Every 10 minutes he'd stop scanning the room to just look at you. Analyzing, maybe? You wished it was admiring but it'd be hard to say with his collected look. At one point he even tripped on air while staring at you.

His topics ranged from a few things, mainly he talked about his most recent discoveries on teleportation. How it ended up cutting the power for the whole Baxter Building. Everyone chuckled, even you, eyes closed with your shoulders rising and falling. When you opened your eyes for a second though, you saw he kept staring, and now it was unmistakeable. His eyes traced over your hair, features, and upper half. He blinked a few times like you weren't a real person, like he was looking at a foreign being. You made eye contact with eachother, doe eyes blinking at him, and he blinked right back. It felt like forever with you both blinking at one another, like your own secret language. You found yourself giving a giggle, ewwwwuh. You hadn't felt like this since middle school. You expected him to turn away after that, but he didn't. He looked dumbfounded, holding his hand close to his chest.

"Mr. Richards?"

The professor tapped him on the shoulder, shaking him out of his trance.

"Oh, right-right uh my apologies everyone. I seemed to have lost my train of thought.."

He cleared his throat and continued with his thoughts on teleportation. Finding that even with using up a ton of power it still ended up working significantly well. He managed to transport an egg across the room without severe damage even to the shell. He had everyone absolutely captivated. You didn't know how you would ever go back to watching him on the TV when you saw him in real time. Now it'd just feel lack luster.

"Now, any questions?"

Every hand went up, everyone was eager to ask the most famous man in New York city a question.

"How does it feel with the title of 'worlds smartest man' on your shoulders?"

"What discoveries do you plan to make in your near future?"

"Will the Fantastic Four continue to protect us?"

Every question came at rapid fire and he answered so diligently. As to be expected with a man of his caliber. If you were to be asked questions like this you'd probably overheat and die. Just another reason to admire him.

"I'd love to stay and answer but I'm a worried about my timing. One more, how about the young man in the back?"

He looked at his watch for a second and then back to the man. The man laughed and pushed around his friends before collecting himself.

"With being so famous, you must have a fair amount of ladies gravitating to you. How do you deal with that, do you have a lover to scare them away?"

That question threw him of guard, everyone was thrown off guard infact. Some gave a laugh while others whispered to one another. He looked down at his watch, then tapped the podium where he stood. Thinking to what on Earth he'd have to say. His eyes turned to you for a split second. Like he was thinking of something but ultimately scratched it off. What the hell?

"No lover I'm afraid, but, my love is dedicated to the people of New York as of current. Next time, ask that question to Johnny? I'm sure he'll give you quite the answer"

He gave a polite smile. Looking back at his watch and turning to the professor.

"I have a few minutes to spare, would you mind if everyone gathered for a picture?"

Instantaneously everyone got up from their seats, running to stand next to him. You were no different. There wasn't a ton of people so it wasn't hard to stand all close to him, barely an inch away stood the man you wanted, but couldn't have. It felt pathetic honestly, and sad. The professor ran to set up the camera, clicking the capture.

You felt a tap on your hand, three of them in a row. You turned expecting to see a friend, but it was him. He didn't look at you, but his eyes turned to yours. Angling them down to his hand. You looked down, not really knowing what you'd find. He opened his palm, in the middle was your, bottom lash?

"Sorry.."

You felt your face get hot, taking the strip in between your fingers. You let yourself selfishly linger in his hand. You taking way too long to get it between your nails. His hands felt worn, and there were faint chalk puffs on the pads of his fingers. He then shook his head.

"Don't be sorry, you were in a rush. We've all been there."

Your heart fluttered, his voice was understanding. Embarrassment left your body when it was all cleared up. Your head turned down, looking at the savored lash in the middle of your hand. Then the flash. But in your flurry you seemed to not care. You had no reason to ever complain anymore. You got so close to him AND touched his hand, you might as well go buy a lottery ticket!

After the flash went off, he looked down at his watch again. Waving goodbye before quickly walking away. Shortly after, everyone departed. You and Shelly walked your separate ways, you lived more on the edge of the city anyway. The whole walk to the station felt like a blur. A tight fist gripping your now lucky lash. You almost forgot to get off at your correct station considering your daze. You and him were so close.. You could smell his cologne. It was surreal. Surreal to be so close to your dream man. And he didn't even know your name. URGH.

You walked up your stairs and opened the front door. Your roommate no where to be found. Must still be on that date. The walk back to your room felt long and winding. Now stepping into it felt so weird. Seeing all the memorabilia, posters, and pictures frames of him felt like. nothing compared to the real thing. You placed your lash clusters down in their casing, drawing a heart on it just to remember. You crashed onto your duvets, a sense of deja vu hit you. You didn't bother to get undressed, just turned on the TV and looked at the channels.

World News, reality TV, cartoons, you looked at the clock. Flipping to the channel you memorized by number, name, and time. "Fantastic Science with Mr. Fantastic" He had two showtimes, one at 12 and one at 6. All 7 days of the week it would come on like clockwork, starting off with a greeting to the audience before he began to explain what the lesson was. Today was a rerun of quantum physics, so it would be background noise while you got undressed. Throwing off your dress and boots and opting for a harlequin fabric lounge set.

Too tired to take off your makeup, you just laid back. Turning your attention back to the TV. He was in the middle of his explanation, drawing at the chalkboard.

"Feel free to try this equation out at home!"

As he wrote something that might just have been hieroglyphics to you. But he did it so effortlessly. On any other day, you would be tuned in or even just sort of focused, but today none of that applied. Today it was just background noise, not just because it was a rerun, but because you still couldn't believe you saw him and heard him without the muffle of the TV. Even touched him. Today was the day you realized he wasn't just a hero, but someone who roamed amongst you and talked to you.

Talked to you and made sure you got your lash back. He didn't even hound you for the makeup stain.

You wondered how he felt.

~

It had been a two weeks since it happened. Two weeks since you bumped into him, two weeks since you messed up his lab coat, two weeks since you stood so close, two weeks since he passed you the lash and technically talked to you and only to you.

The days had passed by quite easily. Going to lectures, returning home, heading to work, watching tv, and repeat. Not much changed, but the initial excitement did not die down. Every night you lay in bed, looking up at your ceilings and replaying it over and over in your head. What you wouldn't give to go back and redo it over and over again.

Today was no different, woke up and went to work. Classes were cancelled for whatever reason you did not care for. You clocked out for the day, and decided to take the skyrail instead of a walk. Opting to look out the window for a little view of the city. Feet swaying off the seat, mind not very occupied with anything except the nearby chatter (and Mr. Fantastic but thats besides the point...")

BAM!!

Oh God damn it all. The day you decide to use public transportation was the day some one-hit-wonder villain wanted to make their big break in the scene. In all honesty it didn't scare you anymore, it was just a pain. You rolled your eyes and sat, waiting for them to run by and wreck havoc.

But, the train car began to shake. And before you knew it, you were hoisted into the air. It was cut in half, and you were holding onto the silver bar for the life of you. This was your karma for scoffing at every villain.

"I DON'T WANNA DIEEE!!"

Urgh this was embarrassing. Everyone was looking from below, staring at the girl (you) who was begging for her life. Dumbass evil cretin left your part of the train teetering down. If you fell from this height you would defiantly perish, impaled by a tree? Splat down on the concrete? You'd die someday but not today. What about your family back home? Your roomie? ALL THE MERCH YOU HAD. You were hyperventilating by now, heart beating out of your chest.

You felt your grip slipping, sweaty palms not helping. Even if you were to take one hand off to rub it, you'd surely still fall. You started repeating your life in your head, the time you fell off your bike, your first aced test, first love, first heartbreak, your first pair of cute shoes, meeting your man. Well you lived good.

You heard the sound of metal scraping against eachother as the train car was finally giving out. Oh so you were ACTUALLY going to die. Not be swiftly saved by your knight in shining armor. You closed your eyes and waiting for it to happen, feeling it slowly tilt. You were becoming content with it before you felt a hand around your waist. Was that an angel guiding you up to Heaven?

"LOOK!! THEY'RE HERE"

WHAT?

You hands gave out and you let yourself momentarily fall before being lifted up to the roof of a building. Pulled flush against what felt like a wall. You looked up, one half hoping it was him but the other hoping oh lord don't let it be him.

It was him.

He looked down at you, you were all red eyed and sniffly. He just patted your back, keeping you against him. You guessed it was a hug? But felt like so much more, sorta. Or you were being delusional again.

"You're okay now miss, just rela- Oh hello."

Was he, recognizing you?

"You must be the lady I gave the lash too, are you not?"

WHAT?! THAT WAS LIKE A MILLION YEARS AGO.

"Ye-yes that's me?.. How could you tell?"

You STUTTERED OH GOD JUST DIE NOW.

"I recognized the style, as well as the fact that I don't believe I could forget your face."

He pointed to his left bottom lash. Oh my God how does anyone actually look that close and REMEMBER? Was his memory actually really that good? You got your lash from some cheap shop too, theres no way he could hav- Forget your face? 'I DON'T BELIEVE I COULD FORGET YOUR FACE'????!!!!!!! WAS HE SAYING YOU WERE UGLY? WAS HE SAYING YOU WERE ATTRACTIVE??!! Your face got hot again and he saw the perplexed look you gave him.

"In-In a good way, you're face is beau-"

"REED WE HAVE TO MOVE"

You looked up and he looked behind. HUMAN TORCH?! She would loose her marbles over this right now. He quickly looked back to you, his look slightly apologetic.

"It was nice to meet you again miss. I apologize for the rush!"

He let you go, letting his grasp linger on your waist for a few seconds more. He began to run. Whatever was telling you to do this was evil, but you yelled out your name.

"Thats my name!! So you dont have to call me miss anymore!"

You thought he didn't hear you and you just embarrassed yourself.

But he repeated the name over and over to you. Stretching his arm to reach the next building. And just, going to go find the villain.

He knows your name..

~

You lay in bed the next day, you took a week off work and classes, all recommended by your doctor. Mind still in hysterics. You almost DIED and then all of a sudden your hero swoops in and rescues you? Honestly you believed it was a dream but definitely not because you turned on the news that morning and all of it was on the recent attack and how Mr. Fantastic bravely saved a young lady. It felt surreal to be on the TV, to see yourself hugging Mr. Fantastic and being left on that rooftop. And he recognized you, and knew you by name? You turned your vision to his action figure idly sitting on your dresser, it was getting more and more surreal everyday.

RING!RING!RING!

You groggily hobbled out of bed to grab your land line, bringing it back to your bed. before you could even ask who it was a voice screamed to you.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE ON TELEVISIONNN!!"

You pulled the phone away but brought it back up to your ear with a sigh.

"Gosh it doesn't feel real.."

You rubbed your face, feeling at your puffy eyes.

"Thankfully, atleast to you.. No page in the paper, but look I gotta go, I'll be home soon!"

You nodded, wishing her a goodbye before hanging up the phone. Laying in silence, what were you to do now, now with the info that he knew your name and thought you were beautiful. Atleast, thats what you think he was going to say.

What was he thinking of this?

Back at The Baxter Building he sat infront of his chalkboard. Blank green with his lab coat hanging up on the corner. He looked over at it, he hadn't found time to do his laundry, and also, he didn't want to. Not because he stunk, but because he'd have to wipe off what little remnants he had of you. Sure he had a name and possibly a university but that was it! New York was a big place, and who knows? It was entirely possible that you just went to the lecture because you heard of a special guest.. It was a public lecture after all!

He heard the elevator door open, oh. Johnny.

"Sooo, whats with you hugging that new lady friend?"

"Not now Johnny."

He stood up, walking over to the board to put the coat away. Johnny caught on though, he wasn't blind. He grabbed the old thing and marveled in the faint makeup stain.

"STILL? Reeeed you sure are infatuated!"

He scoffed and grabbed the coat back, folding it before placing it down on the counter.

"Just, haven't had time to clean."

"Right like we don't have Herbie do it for us"

Reed shot him a glare, he backed away in mock surrender.

"Never would have expected thee Reed Richards to become all doll dizzy..!"

He muttered before walking back out, stepping into the elevator.

"Look if you want to find your misses, just don't get creepy!"

The heavy doors closed.

Doll dizzy?

Reed looked dumbfounded. Doll... Dizzy?

Was he being coined as a womanizer? Is that what it meant?

Johnny sadly did bring up a good point though. How was he supposed to find you in this crazy place without feeling like a stalker? Starting at the campus was crossing a weird line, and he couldn't go looking for your workplace...

He found 3 options to be the most logical.

Start at square one, which was unfortunately the campus and then the building where you both last saw eachother

Ask/roam around till he got a lead

Or, hope that fate would bring you two together again

...

Maybe the fourth option could be that you show up to the building yourself, because those other three options were getting him nowhere.

E/N!!: HIII HIIII!! This is the first installation of this series, actually this is the first series I've ever done! I plan to actually keep a consistent schedule, maybe once a week or only a few days in between? Also, plz don't come by hoping for something well plotted out, it's is not a very serious series. TBH it doesn't actually have a major plot point it's just kind of a bunch of fluff and smut ( •̯́ ₃ •̯̀)...

[tickle-bugs]

Omg I'm so happy you're alive

#7 for superbat 🥺 or superwonderbat if that's more up your alley at this time???

I’m aliveeeeeeeee!!! I’ve missed you and them hehe

Trying out a sillier Bruce in this one because I’ve always meant to and it seemed to work well for this! I love him and Clark so much ugh

The Games We Play

Bruce tries out being lighter-hearted with Clark. He gets more than he bargained for.

Bruce is aware of the reputation he has among the few people who truly know him. A perceived coldness precludes anything he might do, and he’s stilted in any warmth he delivers. But he’s trying. Hard. Especially with Clark. Lightheartedness comes to him as easy as flying—which is to say, it doesn’t and he’s been forced to invent new ways to keep up with the fliers in his life.

Again, he’s trying.

They’re in the game room, which Clark’s delighted to find was not “one of those stuffy ones, with just a pool table and some cards”, and is in fact stocked with games. His children usually stake first claim over this room, but it’s unexpectedly empty tonight. Bruce might’ve read further into that on a different day, but Clark’s beaming at him and there’s nothing beyond that worth focusing on.

“Prepare to be crushed. Jimmy and I have Smash set up in the office.” Clark clicks the Switch into the cradle, and the giant tv lights up. He smooths over a few of the peeling stickers on it and Bruce briefly smiles.

“Then why play here?”

“We use a cracked monitor balanced on some old editions of the Planet. Your TV is so high res I can see new colors in it.” Clark tosses Bruce a dark blue and a grey controller, then takes the red and blue ones for himself. Clark picks Kirby right away. Bruce picks Snake, after some internal deliberation. Maybe he takes a while just to hear Clark whine.

An hour or so later, Bruce wonders if Snake is sore from getting thrashed so hard by that little pink…thing. He doesn’t understand how something so silly-looking is so effective at defeating him. He’d memorized the combos within a minute—Steph had drilled into him to do this rather than ‘button-mashing’—but nothing worked. Every time, Kirby just…ate him.

“Sorry. I think Kirby is Snake’s weakness.” Clark shrugs. Bruce huffs. He doesn’t like to lose, but he was never particularly illusioned that he’d win.

He watches Clark out of the corner of his eye. He looks so at home here, having shed his coat and jacket. Bruce reaches out to fix one of his troublesome curls, coaxing it back into pattern. Clark turns and softly kisses his hand. Bruce’s heart leaps into his throat.

He follows Clark, as he always does, over the precipice of affection.

“I happen to know a weakness of yours.” Bruce tries to make Snake hit a combo for something to do with his hands, but Kirby eats him and spits him out over the edge. Again.

“Yes, kryptonite, very funny. You couldn’t bear to kill me, Bruce. You’d miss me too much.” Clark turns to him with a cheeky smile. The game win screen reflects in his glasses. Perfect.

Bruce summons a bit of his persona, but not too much. This is real. Not a mask. He’s just…borrowing from the playboy.

“Not what I meant.” Bruce’s mouth lifts into a smirk. Clark’s brow furrows adorably as he tries to puzzle it out. Bruce crawls forward with a smirk. Clark immediately leans in to meet him, so eager and wanting.

Bruce waits until their lips nearly meet, then rests his hands in little claws across Clark’s stomach. Clark’s eyes go saucer-wide. Bruce pounces before he can think about fleeing. He’s clumsy with his fingers but it doesn’t seem to matter—Clark’s giggles bubble forth as easily as breathing.

“That—you—I t-thought Batman doesn’t cheat!” Clark twists from side to side, eventually just toppling over onto the couch. Bruce reaches for the controller, but Clark raises his arms. How kind.

“I’m not Batman.” Bruce crawls over him and races his fingers up Clark’s sides. Clark squeals and kicks his legs, his whole face pinching adorably, so of course Bruce does it again. And again. He lets his fingers dance at Clark’s top rib and he’s rewarded with giggles so violent that, for a moment, he’s worried about if he can breathe. Then he remembers that Clark has no need for air, and he continues.

“You literally are—“ Clark’s cut off by his own snort. The very quiet ‘aw’ that slips free from Bruce’s mouth is involuntary and deeply concerning. This man has a dangerous effect on him, what with his skewed glasses and boyish laugh, and it’s starting to wear at him. Change him.

Or maybe…it’s exposing something deep within him.

“There must be some mistake, Clark. I understand that the Planet has its theories, but I’m not Batman.” Bruce blinks innocently. Clark tries to growl, but it rockets back up into giggles. The change in pitch startles a chuckle out of Bruce. It’s so cute and so Clark. His whole chest grows warm with fondness.

Clark’s shirt had ridden up with his squirming, and Bruce didn’t get to be who he is without taking advantage of opportunity. He hasn’t shaved in a bit and he weaponizes that, leaving a long trail of kisses over Clark’s torso.

“Bruce!” Clark shoves at his face and cackles.

Bruce gets more intentional with his kisses, applying more pressure, but his stubble is apparently still too much. Clark curls up around him and clutches his shoulders in a semi-bruising grip. His voice cracks around his laughter. Bruce’s face cracks around his smile. Clark’s infectious. Sue him.

“You really shouldn’t let anyone exploit this weakness. It’s so easy to take you apart,” Bruce hums with a smirk, leaning forward to kiss Clark properly.

Bruce’s whole world inverts.

Instinct drives him to try and defend himself, but there’s no time. In the space of a breath, Clark has flipped them, pinning him against his own couch like they’re twentysomethings wrestling for the last beer.

“I’ll show you easy.” Clark leans down, his eyes flashing behind his skewed glasses. He’s pink and out of breath somehow, which is unfairly charming. So much of him is unfairly charming.

“We can talk about this, Clark. Can’t we?” Bruce brings his hand to the back of Clark’s neck, looking up at him through his lashes. He’s not above using his tricks.

“Oh, I think you’ve talked plenty, don’t you?”

Mistake. Mistake.

Clark’s hands find purchase under Bruce’s arms and he goes ramrod still. He doesn’t move, he hardly breathes. He doesn’t even clench his fists, no matter how much the gentle prodding makes him want to. He tries to appear as relaxed as possible. Bruce raises an unimpressed brow.

“I know you think this will make me stop—“ Clark speaks directly into Bruce’s neck and he makes a strangled sound— “But it’s fun making you break.”

Fuck, is he…telepathic?

Bruce squints up at him, trembling like a leaf. Clark grins like the devil.

Nope. Just an asshole.

Clark scrapes his teeth over Bruce’s neck and he jolts, a startled ‘ha!’ jostling free and sending more laughter tumbling out after, like an overstuffed closet spilling its contents. Once it starts, he can’t stop it.

“I happen to know a weakness of yours,” Clark says in his stupid, mocking approximation of Batman’s voice. Bruce doesn’t have the air to argue. He muffles his laughter into his bicep, desperate to hide. The silliness he can take—it’s well-worth watching Clark getting laughed out of League meetings for suggesting that Batman told a joke. The vulnerability, though, that’s…difficult.

Clark pulls his arms over his head as if they were twigs. Bruce bites his lip, but only briefly. Self-control, and all that.

“Once again, I feel like we could be doing something far more fun—“

“Oh, hush. As if you don’t like this.” Clark mercifully doesn't give him room to speak, but it doesn’t stop Bryce’s brain from spinning out. This is what Clark does. He gracelessly smacks Bruce across the face with some deep truth about himself, then moves on as if nothing happened.

Clark’s not…wrong—not fully, anyway. Bruce would much prefer Clark on top of him in a different way, but he doesn’t hate this as much as he should.

Clark tickles at the back of Bruce’s calf like some kind of supervillain and snaps him right out of his mind. Bruce kicks him straight across the jaw with a crack that’s concerning no matter whose body it came from. Clark’s glasses sail across the room, clattering to a stop somewhere out of sight.

Clark’s eyes legitimately flash with menace.

“I didn’t mean that,” Bruce says quickly, putting his hands up.

“Did you just kick me?” Clark growls, and Bruce suddenly feels as though they’ve switched places. Somewhere in all of this, he’d lost track of which way’s up.

“Clark—“ Bruce’s voice dies in his throat when Clark hitches his leg over his shoulder.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” Bruce groans. He resists the urge to hide his face in favor of crossing his arms. Definitely not protectively.

“Yes, I am. I’m very purposefully teaching you some manners, because obviously Alfred’s teachings haven’t stuck.” Clark rolls up his sleeves. One of them is tricky, and Bruce reaches forward to do it himself.

“I don’t think he’d agree with you.” Bruce’s lips tick up in a smile at the comment and nothing else.

“Alfred and I are pals, so I think I carry his best interests at heart.” Clark presses a playful hand to his heart. Bruce snorts lightly.

“Sure.” Clark leans down to kiss him and cut off any further protest.

A chorus of half-screams and gagging sounds erupt from the doorway and Clark bolts upright like a hare. Bruce has the express pleasure of watching the tips of his ears scorch red.

“Oh, uhm. Heya, Dick! Jason!”

Oh. He’s never gonna live this down.

Bruce considers popping up with Clark, but it’s funnier from down here.

Clark waves over the top of the couch, his face redder than his cape. Bruce slides a hand over his mouth to hide his smile. Clark waves like a tacky car dealership decoration for a long, awkward while until the disgusted muttering fades away.

“Bruce, the kind thing to do right now would be to kill me.” Clark slid his hands up over his face in despair. Bruce pats his arm.

“But, Clark—“ Bruce allows himself the tiniest smirk— “I’d miss you too much.”

He fully earns the wrecking that comment brings him, but he can’t quite find it in himself to care.

[pinkuberii]

Vroom vroom!!!

Tw: Driving (let’s be real driving can be scary)

Wc: I am so sorry I have no idea but definitely under 1K

Genre: Fluff and crack kinda

Summary: My Genshin faves (Zhongli, Kaeya, Itto and Arle) teaching you how to drive basically 😋

A/N: I honor of me getting my license like a month ago also I am currently dying so forgive me for any mistakes (I caught a cold)

-> Zhongli

In my mind he drives a Honda Civic

I love Honda

Btw this man is calm as fuck

I feel like he’d be an ideal teacher with how calm and patient he is

Especially if you’re anxious in the beginning

You never get scolded, never

The author (me) is jealous

Like you could crash and ruin the car but he’d still be like “haha it’s fine we can buy a new one :)”

Please tell him it’s not fine!!!!!

Also super good at explaining but he gets carried away sometimes

Especially when he has to give directions at the same time I think

“When do I need to turn right?”

“Now?”

“wHAT!?”

Omg he’s like my dad when it comes to giving directions lol

Treats you to a meal when you pass the driving test <3

You might end up paying for that meal tho

-> Kaeya

Also very calm!!!

I’m sure he’s extremely familiar and good with teaching stuff, so congrats!!! You have a great (and hot) teacher :D

But uhhh,,, he’s calm to a certain extent

As long as you two don’t get into a near-crashing situation not a single complaint will fly out of his mouth

But let’s just uhhh say you did

Hypothetically!

Dear reader it’s for the plot (literally)

Anyway he will intervene almost immediately

And he’ll scold you for not paying attention

But it’s not that he’s mad he just cares for your wellbeing and wants you to drive safely

Omg so proud when you pass your test!!!

His cocky ass will probably say something stupid like “who did they learn driving from??? ;););)”

Ok bro 💔💔💔

Also gives some good feedback at the end of your driving session

-> Itto

OOOOOHAJYZKXJSHWHHZBXHAS

Chaotic.

CAN YOU IMAGINE HIM TEACHING YOU HOW TO DRIVE

I’m sorry but the concept is too funny I must write it

You’re both clueless tbh it’s hilarious

Spoilers: it’s not hilarious it’s dangerous

“Okay so we’re going to the left right? You gotta do this—”

“Aren’t you indicating to the right?”

“Oh.”

I wonder how he got his license but he somehow did and yknow what I’m proud

Also if this himbo got his license you also will!!!!

Screams at the smallest things however

It makes you jump lol

Imagine you have to overtake a truck or something so you press a lil’ extra on the gas?

This man is gRIPPING THE HANDLE FOR DEAR LIFE-

Can’t describe how happy he is with you getting your license

Hugs and twirls you in the air and stuff

Silly man love him 😋🫶

-> Arlecchino

Father is like my own dad while teaching you how to drive

She’s tranquil to a certain extent

Really tries her best to be calm

But make one (1) mistake and oh boy

Your ass is getting sCOLDED

It won’t be long but just one loud sentence is enough to make you sweat tbh

But somehow her harsh words work because you don’t make the same mistake twice???

A win is a win (you don’t wanna get scolded again lmao)

Her explanations are short and simple but so so so clear!!!

Gives you great tips for when you have to park

Parallel parking is my biggest enemy btw

A very strict and kind of impatient teacher basically

But she’d rather scold you than let you learn the wrong things

Father just wants you to drive safely :,))

Doesn’t react much when you pass your driving test

“I knew you could do it” is the only thing you hear

DEEP DOWN SHE’S SUUUPPPEERRRR PROUD HEHEHE <3

[ungraceds]

limbs   go   rigid   as   he   wets   his   finger   and   drags   it   along   sensitive   flesh   ,   washing   away   the   mistake   she   caused   him   to   make   ,   and   it's   an   instant   rush   of   heat   that   tears   across   her   body   .   it's   such   an   instinctive   ,   subtle   gesture   ,   and   it   has   her   teetering   on   the   edge   of   a   cliff   that   she   isn't   sure   how   to   cling   onto   anymore   .   isn't   sure   she   wants   to   .   her   gaze   is   hooded   and   intense   ,   crashing   like   waves   against   a   tree   stump   as   their   eyes   lock   ,   and   there's   a   thick   swallow   that   follows   .   one   that   could   be   audible   in   the   heavy   silence   of   his   bedroom   .   hearing   just   your   songs   wasn't   enough   anymore   .   "   you've   been   listening   to   my   music   ?   "   it's   a   silly   thing   to   care   about   ,   all   considering   ,   but   there's   that   familiar   flutter   in   her   chest   again   ..   the   strings   of   her   heart   strumming   a   chorus   that   only   hums   to   life   for   him   .   "   so   ,   you   came   to   listen   to   me   sing   songs   about   you   in   a   room   of   strangers   .   "   says   slowly   ,   something   about   the   act   of   him   coming   tonight   with   no   hidden   intentions   ,   just   standing   among   a   sea   of   faces   ,   craving   the   closeness   they   used   to   have   ,   is   so   intimate   .   "   sounds   like   something   a   sadist   would   do   ,   looking   for   me   while   staying   hidden   .   "   kind   of   like   her   suggesting   this   ..   perhaps   they're   cut   from   the   same   cloth   ,   afterall   .   he's   listening   to   her   suggestion   and   he's   so   close   ,   far   closer   than   he   was   before   ,   and   her   breathing   is   suddenly   strained   .   ragged   .   his   body   heat   is   covering   her   lower   half   ,   fingertips   so   close   to   lace   that   her   skin   is   burning   beneath   his   soft   touch   ,   his   query   feeling   the   limited   space   like   a   taunt   dancing   along   her   withering   restraint   .   is   this   better   ?   could   almost   laugh   .   no   ,   it's   worse   .   so   much   worse   .   but   not   for   the   same   reasons   that   he's   asking   .   "   y   -   yes   ..   it's   ..   "   her   voice   cracks   and   she's   clearing   her   throat   ,   tongue   swiping   her   lesser   as   he   forces   her   thighs   further   apart   ,   "   it's   better   .   "   is   he   doing   this   shit   on   purpose   ?

the   highs   of   her   cheeks   are   flushed   and   they   only   darken   as   he's   inclining   forward   ,   his   hot   breaths   painting   the   thin   fabric   of   her   panties   ,   and   she   can   feel   it   ..   how   they   dampen   ,   how   she   throbs   for   him   just   like   she   shouldn't   .   she's   staring   at   him   with   parted   lips   ,   fingers   gently   curling   into   his   sheet   to   keep   herself   from   reaching   out   and   telling   him   to   paint   her   in   other   places   .   she   misses   him   .   it's   painfully   obvious   --   she   doesn't   want   this   moment   to   end   ,   doesn't   want   to   go   back   to   reality   tomorrow   ,   doesn't   want   to   remember   that   he   hurt   her   .   twice   .   wants   to   go   back   to   when   it   was   just   them   :   draven   and   jade   .   but   that   was   years   ago   ,   and   this   is   now   .   do   you   like   how   it   looks   ?   blinks   ,   hues   tearing   away   from   masculine   features   to   the   design   wrapping   around   her   hip   ,   and   she's   nodding   .   "   it's   beautiful   .   "   and   so   is   he   .   wonders   if   he   knows   that   --   that   while   he's   consumed   in   creating   art   ,   that   he   ,   too   ,   is   a   masterpiece   .   her   teeth   are   chewing   restlessly   on   her   lesser   and   she's   nodding   despite   the   fact   he   isn't   looking   at   her   ,   "   yeah   ,   that's   ...   yeah   .   that'd   be   nice   .   "   but   as   he   announces   that   he's   almost   finished   ,   her   thigh   twitches   beneath   his   palm   and   it's   as   if   a   fist   landed   a   sucker   punch   in   her   gut   .   she   doesn't   want   him   to   be   done   ,   she   doesn't   want   this   to   be   over   .   panic   sets   in   ,   dread   quickly   following   ,   and   sorrow   ..   that   comes   ,   too   .   "   oh   .   "   it's   weighted   ,   falling   into   the   empty   space   ,   and   she's   tearing   her   stare   away   towards   the   door   .   she   didn't   think   that   far   ahead   --   and   she   should've   .   she   can't   stay   here   ,   for   a   multitude   of   reasons   ,   and   that   only   further   proves   that   this   was   a   mistake   .   "   no   .   it's   -   no   .   "   she's   tugging   at   the   hem   of   his   shirt   as   an   excuse   for   her   hands   to   do   something   ,   "   i'll   call   an   uber   .   you're   already   home   ,   so   .   "

she’s   shifting   on   accident   ,   quick   apologies   falling   from   her   lips   as   she   shakes   her   head   ,   and   his   gaze   remains   on   the   smudged   line   of   paint   that’s   dragging   down   her   inner   thigh   .   “   it’s   okay   i   can   —   ”   doesn’t   finish   his   sentence   ,   digit   lifting   up   to   his   mouth   where   he’s   sucking   on   index   ,   before   he’s   bringing   his   hand   down   ,   dragging   it   over   her   inner   thigh   .   the   movement   is   slow   carefully   ridding   skin   of   any   remnants   of   smudged   ink   ,   and   then   he   looks   up   again   ,   eyes   clashing   with   hers   .   “   i   —   i   just   —   ”   trips   over   his   own   tongue   ,   feels   like   he’s   done   so   a   lot   tonight   .   he   doesn’t   know   how   to   act   around   her   .   not   with   how   things   are   .   “   hearing   just   your   songs   wasn’t   enough   anymore   .   ”   -   “   so   i   went   to   the   only   place   where   i   could   see   you   —   and   you   wouldn’t   see   me   .   ”   or   so   he   thought   .   he’d   stayed   behind   mourning   their   loss   ,   and   his   ,   not   just   the   possibility   of   a   relationship   but   his   best   friend   too   .   gaze   falls   ,   and   he’s   shifting   ,   grasps   for   the   brush   again   to   focus   on   something   else   —   on   the   way   lines   of   ink   shape   the   guitar   to   life   ,   but   she’s   moving   too   ,   pointing   to   her   inner   thigh   .   “   yeah   i   can   —   i   can   do   that   .   ”   bristles   kiss   along   her   skin   as   he   brings   the   flowers   to   life   ,   roses   matching   the   piece   on   her   thigh   ,   envelops   them   in   flames   ,   each   sharp   edge   wrapping   around   it   .   his   other   hand   moves   higher   up   her   skin   ,   fingertips    almost   brushing   against   lace   ,   dangerously   close   to   her   heaven   .   does   it   without   realizing   however   —   he’s   too   focused   .   “   is   this   better   ?   ”   voice   is   low   and   quiet   as   he   continues   to   add   details   to   his   piece   .   he’s   using   his   knee   to   push   her   thighs   further   apart   ,   giving   him   more   access   .   “   sorry   i   —   i   need   to   be   a   little   closer   ..   ”   leans   down   then   ,   face   inches   from   her   heaven   as   he   fixates   on   the   ink   adorning   her   hip   down   to   her   inner   thigh   ,   uniting   with   the   already   existing   piece   inked   to   her   skin   .   he’s   taking   his   time   ,   palm   wrapped   around   her   thigh   giving   skin   a   gentle   squeeze   .   “   do   you   like   how   it   looks   ?   ”   breaks   the   silence   in   hopes   to   lessen   the   thick   tension   that’s   enveloping   them   ,   but   it   does   nothing   to   help   .   “   i   can   ..   take   a   picture   of   it   later   ..   edit   it   ..   so   you   can   see   how   it’d   look   like   with   color   ,   too   …   ”   eyes   remain   fixated   on   the   piece   ,   except   for   a   brief   moment   ,   his   gaze   drifts   ,   admiring   the   black   lace   concealing   forbidden   fruit   ,   before   he’s   fixating   on   the   brush   again   .   “   i’m   almost   done   .   ”   silence   stretches   .   “   do   you   need   me   to   drive   you   home   after   ?  ”

[oacest]

mark lanegran's descriptions of liam, a sampling:

ignorant, loud-mouthed, and obnoxious lead singer

bothersome mosquito

low-rent tyrant

wannabe badass

entitled "rock star"

blowhard singer

this clown

a monster, one without teeth or claws, but a small, irritating monster nonetheless

a low-life cocksucker

a bedwetter

unbearable, minor-league-dictator

his buckshot-wild, painfully feeble, head-injury-victim's personality

a child ruined with indulgence, but one with an unpredictable predilection for cruelty and an ocean-sized, burning-black-hole need for attention

an obvious poser

a would-be playground bully

a total pussy

all the scare factor of a Z-grade Steven Seagal

putrid piece of shit

unstable loudmouthed prick

arrogant, spoiled, wounded baby Gallagher

phony motherfucker

[comfortfrogblog]

“everyone is capable of experiencing goodness and joy. not me th-“ *EXTREMELY LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER*

[maryymaruu]

Burnout and lowkey existential crisis vent rambles - it gets pretty bad, but I do feel better after I spit it out into the internet void

Please, read at your own discretion. Your opinion about me might also suffer, disclaimer.

My will to live and orientation as where to go in life has disappeared along my will to draw. I oriented my life around me drawing and creating, and now I feel like I can't create no more and now my life has no direction.

I don't know what else to do, I'm trying to cling onto drawing, but it feels horrible. I don't want to let go, because I don't like anything else but... I don't really like drawing anymore either... I've lost my passion.

Nothing is satisfying, I don't like anything, im not good enough at anything else, I can't do shit. Because I don't want to do anything anymore. Not for real. I "want" to do things, but don't want to DO things.

There are things out there that I think I want, but I'm not actually motivated enough to go the path to get there. I'm more likely to just lay down and think about it, how nice it is, but then never do it.

I can get surges of motivation sometimes, I think I know what I want, but it disappears so quickly, and I'm back in bed. Because I'm not used to ever following through with dreams and wishes like that. My entire life it's been like that, "oh I wished I did that", "oh it'd be so nice to go do this and that" and it ALWAYS stayed at that and nothing else. And it was a normal thing for where I grew up in. Because I don't believe in myself for shit- I hate that I have to regurgitate lies and pretend in order to convince people that I'm not the absolute hopeless fuck up of a worthless mess. I always have to pretend I'm okay, I'm normal, that I'm good enough, that I'm not an absolutely hopeless, worthless sinner who deserves nothing but punishment, that guilt doesn't eat away at me like a fucking acid.

How am I supposed to "put myself out there"? How am I supposed to go to interviews and tell people "you want to hire me I'm good" when I'm fucking not? How am I supposed to show my face to anyone out there and make friends when I feel like a criminal out on the run?

[stranger-awakening]

I'm going to finish this fic and I'm going to post it tomorrow

[sysig]

Transitive grief (Patreon)

Bonus:

The human is practically throwing himself at DAX! Where was this when ZEX was still around!

Voyeur

[cultivating-wildflowers]

this month is really making me feel like a homeowner in the most mundanely stressful ways

I have to replace my toilet because it's falling apart, but it's so old that we have to find one that will fit, and then we have to adjust the connections (thankfully my dad knows how to do this)

my parents are getting a new washing machine so I will be inheriting theirs (this is how I got my stove)

the friends selling my parents their washing machine are also getting rid of their dryer, so I get a lightly-used dryer for cheap (the sensor on mine died so I can only use the time setting)

my mother is once again critiquing my house's siding (it's wood. and we painted it in the middle of a cold snap in March four years ago before I even bought the house so the inspector would quit pitching a fit)

she also has big plans for re-configuring my driveway

and she wants to know when the township will finally fill the hole in the off-street parking area (it now has its own biome)

my dad may be swapping my lawnmower with his so I can quit getting mildly zapped every time I turn mine off via pulling the spark plug (I mowed on Sunday. it ran out of gas with three passes left. my lawn looks so stupid but we're under a flood watch and I will not be mowing until...later)

thankfully the water heater, furnace, windows, and roof are all quite new and/or in working condition!

[n0b0dyukn0w]

I get mean when I'm nervous, like a bad dog.

I get mean when I'm nervous, like a bad dog.