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opennwindows · 7 months

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If you can, could I request BEN Drowned fluff / smut headcanons like about himself, with his headcanon age, hobbies, facts, what he is into or would like & want in a relationship, and what he would be like with a gamer girlfriend/ s/o?

If ya taking requests rn still?✨😇😊💖

Ben Drowned general + NSFW hcs

A/N: yes!! absolutely. i love getting to talk about how the pastas do their pastaing in my mind. i have so many headcanons for everyone that im excited to share!! also sorry i forgot to include the gamer gf part but i don't think it would change a lot of what i wrote!!

btw sorry for fucking dying i have been busy 😭😭 but no one worry i will still continue to work on requests!! if anyone has any marble hornets stuff they wanna request i will zoom you to the front of the queue so fucking quick. anyways enough of me yapping.

cw: 18+ nsfw, toxic relationships, crying kink,

GENERAL

ben is mentally and physically 22, but he can be quite emotionally immature at times. when he died he never stopped growing and maturing, his soul was just stuck in limbo. think like the worst waiting room ever.

he's surprisingly tall, standing at about 5'9. he's lanky but not bone thin. could easily get pretty far in a fight without his ghost powers.

the link costume only appears when he’s in his ghost form. so for example, when he’s messing with someone on their computer he’ll appear as the canon BEN we’re most familiar with. when he’s just chilling in his physical body, he mostly wears beat up hoodies and sweatpants.

contrary to popular belief, ben's not the hardcore gamer everyone thinks he is. sure, he'll play some overwatch or whatever when he's bored but he honestly just prefers to watch tv and browse the internet. understandably REFUSES to play any zelda games. if you were trapped in a video game for decades would you ever wanna touch it again? exactly.

ben loves to draw little comics and troll (see: horrifically traumatize) people online. god forbid you get into twitter beef with this man because he will crawl through your monitor at 3am and leave you with a crippling fear of technology. dude thinks it's absolutely hilarious. a true knee slapper.

lowkey has a sugar addiction. will slam down 4 cans of pepsi in one sitting. he's very lucky that he's basically a ghost because the kidney stones would be plentiful.

ROMANTIC

you know that guy with the blown out speakers in his car, lives off of energy drinks and burnt blue razz ice elfbars, swears aphex twin is the modern mozart and works on the grill at your local wendy’s? yeah thats ben. or at least would be him if he was still human.

“why would you need a chair, my lap is literally right here babe.”

would absolutely wear your skin if given the opportunity. not in a weird way. he’s just EXTREMELY touchy.

he needs someone who is significantly more organized and motivated than him. he can go almost a week without showering and it should honestly be considered biological warfare when he tries to smother you with affection during these episodes.

after awhile of you guys dating he LOVES the idea of y’all showering together. he has a fear of water and while showers aren’t too much of a trigger, your presence helps ease his anxiety.

favorite pet names: bro, dude, dawg, babe, bitch (non derogatory)

not really a romantic but he tries his best. a perfect date for him is just getting some takeout, watching youtube, talking about stupid shit and play fighting. if you want something more traditional or extravagant then he’ll oblige to make you happy but those types of dates make him feel quite suffocated and nervous. try to save those for special occasions.

now let’s talk about his problems because just like the other creeps he is ANGSTY.

he’s probably the most emotionally stable and healthiest of the group but he definitely still has his toxic traits, after all this man is a ghost that mentally tortures and kills his victims through manipulation.

ben would never ever get physical with his partner no matter how enraged he is but he absolutely is the type to do some mental damage when he gets carried away. ben drowned? more like ben gaslighted.

the type to say some shit that would keep you up for years and then kiss you the next morning like the argument never happened. he finds it easier to ignore problems than to actively talk and fix them. you’re gonna have to teach him some important communication skills or else you’ll grow to resent him after all the bottled up rage.

a bit too brutally honest and blunt for his own good so if you have thin skin the relationship would fall apart pretty quickly. he wants someone who can drag him twice as hard as he dragged you. bonus points if your insults are consistently funny as hell.

please watch anime with him and discuss it. he would propose on the spot, especially if you play with his hair.

pro player tip: if you want him to clean his disgusting room, help him and make it fun! he just needs a little push and motivation at times. and being around you makes him want to get his shit together.

big fan of late night make-out sessions. i’m talking like 45 minutes straight of just slobbering on each other’s faces with tongues down throats. if you don’t want his hands running over every inch of your body then you’ll probably have to chain him to the wall.

NSFW

okay. so he’s a little inexperienced with his hands. he’s just a slow learner. be vocal with him about what you like!!

ben's about 7inches and slightly skinnier than average but he will have you seeing stars in record time. the dick game is no joke. he tends to go fast and deep most times.

i can see him being a switch in the idgaf-as-long-as-i’m-fucking way. dude will go with the flow and will try mostly anything.

definitely one of the least aggressive pastas during sex. he has sadistic tendencies but he’s more of a edge/overstimulate you until you cry versus a beat the shit out of you and rip hair out of your scalp type. he’s pretty vanilla given his occupation.

despite his love of roasting the fuck out of you on a daily basis, the only words that come out of this man’s mouth is heavenly praise. he looks at you like you’re the most gorgeous being on the planet and he’ll let you know it.

he loves to whisper praises into your ear while you ride him.

he's more of a receiver than a giver when it comes to oral. he'll absolutely spend hours between your legs if given the chance but nothing beats the sight of you on your knees and teary eyed with his length in your mouth.

he can be a bit of a head pusher but just let him face-fuck you every now and then, hearing his loud moans will be worth it.

did i mention how much of a crying kink this man has? you guys could be on round three and if he stares at your teary eyed fucked-out face for longer than 10 seconds he'll immediately get hard again. you'll have to beg him to give your poor body a break.

he's also into choking but only if he's the one doing it. if you try to restrict his breathing he'll panic and the mood would get ruined.

#creepypasta #creepypasta smut #celia reqs #creepypasta x reader #ben drowned #ben drowned x reader #ben drowned smut #ben drowned x y/n #ben drowned x you #ben drowned headcanons #ben drowned hcs #creepypasta headcanon

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temiizpalace · 5 months

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☆┊”CAN I COPY YOUR HOMEWORK ?”

SUMMARY: you forgot to do the homework before your next class.. excellent job prefect. no problem. you can just copy off your classmate! what’s his response to “can I copy your homework?”

CHARACTERS: all dorms (+ grim)

GENRE: crackfic, but could be considered fluff

WARNINGS: cursing

reader gender is not mentioned, reader is yuu

“i’ll help you with it!”

i mean, you COULD copy.. but how will you understand the material? if you copy then you might not understand it later! that’s not good at all! instead of letting you copy it all together, he helps you and walks you through it like the angel he is. he’s explaining everything in detail but in a way you could comprehend it. totally should be your teacher. even if you already understood the subject, he still wants to lock it in and make sure you truly do get it. (after that you felt like albert einstein)

riddle, trey, jack, ortho, rook (he already knew you weren’t paying attention so he got ya covered), silver

“yeah, sure”

you wanna copy his homework? yeah, sure. why not? you’re the overworked prefect of ramshackle dorm, or some may say “crowleys assistant.” you deserve a break every once in awhile right? maybe they do care about your wellbeing and want you to rest as much as possible. you already work your ass off every day. you study, care for grim, do crowleys work, and deal with some random dorms shit almost 24/7. hell, why not let him write it for you?

it’s that or he just doesn’t give a shit. 🤷🤷

epel, lilia, malleus

“bold of you to assume i did the homework”

you’re both in the same boat. well sort of anyway. he’s a busy guy, he doesn’t have time for that. life is short, and he should be doing things he wants. not sit in a classroom all day and write, just to sit down in his dorm room and write for the rest of it. oh no. he probably has like 10 missing assignments right now. long story short: his ass did not do the homework cause he didn’t wanna.

ace, leona, floyd

“lol nope”

damn you didn’t do the homework? well good luck with that. listen, he did the homework. he’s on top of it. you on the other hand chose not to do it. what’s that? oh you were busy? that sounds rough. he wishes you the best and hopes that you’ll listen next time. alright? bye 🫶🫶

idia, jamil

“wait, we had homework????”

there was homework? THERE WAS HOMEWORK? oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit. he messed up. now he’s scrambling to get it done before his next period, panicking and triple checking his answers. poor baby was so caught up in his life he forgot all about class assignments. now you both are sitting at the cafeteria with pencils and eraser shavings everywhere. those sitting around you both were losing their appetites because for some reason their meal tastes like led or graphite. best of luck to you both 💔💔

grim, deuce, cater, kalim

“sure you can copy it! for a price of course.”

yeah he’ll let you copy it. one teensy weensy detail though, what’ll he get in return? well it was your fault for not working on it during your free time. it’s only fair right? he worked so hard to get these answers, why should he give them away for free? haha. that’s just how the world works, prefect. it’s nothing personal really, he just wants to benefit.

azul would definitely try to upsell you into getting one of his study guides. capitalist.

ruggie, azul, jade

he scolds you.

you didn’t do the homework? *sigh* perfect, oh, prefect. that’s a horrible habit to develop, really. why didn’t you do it? now you must scramble to finish it. you see not doing the homework once is alright, but if this happens again he will know about it. he’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again third time. now he’s giving you a long ass essay on why doing your homework ON TIME is the right thing to do, and why copying others homework is the road unsuccessful students go down.

but his lecture went on for hours. im sorry it won’t happen again just please let me copy it 🙏🙏

riddle (scolds then lets you copy), vil, sebek

A/N: I do all my homework stay safe guys 🙏

my second writing tada! lately I’ve just been going off of alignment charts and how I see them fit. hopefully this is good enough.

date written: 11/24/23

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cupidsandromeda · 10 months

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Pheromones

earth 42! Miles Morales x fem!reader

Summary : Your boyfriend smells reaaaaal good after a trip to the gym

Warnings : slightly weird, fluff, probably grammatically incorrect (im writing this from my phone at 4AM)

"You smell so good right now"

Your boyfriend looked down at you with a concerned gaze.

"Ma, I'm musty as fuck right now," he laughed awkwardly.

"Okay, yeah, but you smell really good though," you giggled, taking in his scent.

Miles knew he picked a pretty weird girl, but he'd never thought she would be attracted to the smell of his post-workout funk.

He slid out of your grasp, earning a dissatisfied huff from you.

"Ima go take a shower, then you can hold me all you want, okay?" He started walking towards the bathroom.

"Wait, no!" You pleaded ",Please don't think I'm being weird right now."

"Nah, you're being kinda weird baby," he clarified, turning back to you.

"Okay, but like, what if I told you there was a scientific reason for all this?" You asked.

With a look of intrigue, he plopped down onto his bed.

"Aight, humor me." He said quizzically.

"Okay, so I read this article," you started. He rolled his eyes.

Smacking his chest, you hissed "Nigga, don't roll ya eyes at me."

"Ow, okay okay, I'm listening."

"Anyways, I was reading this article about how when you sweat, you excrete pheromones- y'know the love hormone?" You explained.

He leaned in to touch your nose with his.

"Ooh, the love hormone? You looove me?" He teased.

"And if I do?" You stuck your tongue at him, feeling your face warm up.

He slid his arm around your waist, pulling you onto his lap.

"Do you love me?" He asked, looking you dead in your eyes.

You were at a loss for words, never having said those words to anyone but your parents. He was making this hard enough as he rubbed circles into your sides.

You forced your eyes away from his face.

"Iloveyou." You rushed the words out as if they were forbidden.

He cupped your face, turning you to look at him.

"You what, baby? I didn't catch that." He pried.

Well, this conversation had taken an turn. You just wanted to revel in your man's scent peacefully but now you were forced to face your true feelings. Love was definitely a word...a strong one at that. However, looking into his eyes like this, you knew the answer.

"I love you, Miles Morales."

"And I love you, mi corazón."

Your could feel yourself almost shaking, that was a lot to admit for you. You decided to bury your emotions in his shoulder. He wrapped his arms tighter around your waist, rocking you back and forth.

sniff.

"Are you sniffing me again?" He exclaimed.

"I'm sorry," You sobbed ", but you smell too good right now."

"Okay, that's enough for you, lil freak," He rolled you off of him, and onto the bed.

With a pat to your stomach, he left the room to hop in the shower.

He really did smell good though...

A/N: Okay y'all this is my first time writing in a bit, also it is 5 AM, im not editing this teehee

This is loosely based off experiences I've personally had with boyfriends, and YES when you love someone enough their sweat smells sooooo good omg

Anyways, you can generally assume in my writing that the reader is black, so take that as you will. I hope this was enjoyable even if it's lowkey crack. Thank you !

#miles morales #earth 42 miles x reader #black authors #spiderman atsv #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #black tumblr #atsv miles #atsv fluff

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plush-rabbit · 9 months

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Too Soon

Part 5 to the Pouts and Spots Series

Word Count: 6.1K

A/N: sorry this is so late!! im like going through it and it sucks!! but here it is!! next chapter is gonna be my personal favorite and i wanna finish up cookies and cream mainly to get to one line that i really wanna use

The book is held carefully in your hand, spread just enough for you to catch the words, but not too far to ruin the paperback cover. Words turn over in your head, voices filling those for the characters, cadence heavy in your thoughts, but when spoken out loud to nobody but yourself, the words fall flat- so you’ve chosen to remain silent. Your home is quiet, the moaning of pipes and life outside from your walls echo through, and it’s the perfect background noise save for the barking dog that howls loudly in the confines of its home.

Pinched between your finger and thumb, the page turns, and your eyes skim over the words. Your tongue traces over the letters, and you startle when your phone buzzes beside you. You close the book gently, and place it beside you, careful to not let any of the corners be bent. It rests flat on the armrest of the couch, and you reach for your phone that continues to buzz harshly in the soft of your hand.

The name reads “Johnathan”.

You swipe at the green phone symbol and put the phone close to your ear.

“Hello,” you rasp out, your mouth dry and tongue rough.

Your name is called, nervously with only a hint of confidence laced into the last sound. “Hi, it’s Johnathan.” You can tell that he almost immediately regretted adding in that sentence. “What are- What’s up?”

You smile and tilt your head closer to the phone. “Hi Johnathan,” you tell him, stretching out your hand and looking at your nails, unpainted and pink. “I’m just at home, reading.” You flex your hand and think to yourself that you should paint your nails. “What about you?”

“Oh- I’m sorry. I hadn’t meant to interrupt your reading.” He says it as a nicety, but there’s no genuine sorrow in his words. and you bring your hand down.

“You’re good,” you reassure. “I needed a break anyway.” You glance at the book and trace your finger over the title. Your finger traces over the curves and sharp lines, up and down, and down and up. “The words were starting to look like words,” you mumble, tipping at the last point of the letter. “What are you doing?”

“I just got out of work-” and as if to prove himself, he yawns. “I’m-” the yawn still stretches through the words and you scoff a laugh. “I didn’t mean to yawn. I’m just,” he sighs, “tired is all.”

Pulling the phone away, the screen lights with the call and in the corner, the time reads much later than you had expected it. And to show how late it is, you yawn, and turn yourself away from the phone. You pull the phone close to you and blink away the tears. “You’re out late. Did you get a new schedule?”

“No,” he says dejectedly. “I’m close to something big, and the later I stay, the earlier I can finish the project.” You bite your tongue to refrain from asking anything about the project. “We’re close, but not close enough. But these late nights are killing me.”

“You’re there practically all day and every day. It’s definitely going to take it out of you,” you sympathize. You look over to the book, the spine unblemished and only little indentations give away that the book is being put into use. “You gotta see people other than scientists, ya know.”

He falls silent. “I’m sorry,” he tells you again, and this time, he sounds apologetic. You wait for him to continue. “I know that we’re-” he pauses- “something. I haven’t meant to be busy, but- it’s work and I can’t just stop working and-”

“It’s okay, Johnathan,” you tell him. “I hadn’t meant it to sound backhanded.”

“You said you were reading?” You hum into the phone. “What were you reading?”

“Um.” You turn to your book, mouth pulling into a thin line. “It’s kind of difficult to explain. It’s about cowboys? It’s supposed to be a classic,” you tell him.

“You think I could borrow it once you’re done?”

You snort a laugh, and then slowly let small giggles escape past your lips. “You never struck me as the cowboy type.”

He scoffs. “Why because I’m a scientist?”

“Yes,” you answer without hesitation.

“I will have you know I loved horses as a kid,” he says boldly.

“Really?” You ask not quite believing him.

There’s a pause. “Sort of,” he confesses and you smile, leaning into the back of the couch. “Their teeth freaked me out but I’m sure I owned a toy horse.”

You laugh and stare at the decorative pillow at the end of your couch. “I had these toy lions that I loved. They were like figurines for miniature sets, I think. They didn’t do anything special but I liked them a whole lot.”

“Do you still like lions?”

You shake your head to no one. “I’ll watch a video about them, but I’m not out there buying lion themed things, ya know?”

“Yeah,” he says softly. In the background, you can hear a car honk and you scratch over your knee mindlessly, the sharp curves of your nails leaving your skin with a light sting. “We should go out again.”

“You think so?” Your feet are flat on the ground as you stand up, grabbing at your book gently and letting it rest flat over the coffee table. You walk away from the living room. The bedroom door creaks open and it clicks shut. You’re in complete darkness, and only memory serves to be your guide.

He clears his throat. “I want to take you out.”

You step on your rug, the plush soft and a comfort compared to the cold floor. “Now it sounds like you want to kill me, Johnny,” you mumble.

“We should go on another date.” Your hands stretch out, the pads of your fingertips touch against the edge of your nightstand, and your fingertips bump against a candle that sits close to the edge. You hum in encouragement. “We can get coffee and go for a walk.” You find the body of the lamp and trace up the cool glass. “Afterwards, we can come back to my place-”

Your hand bumps against the lampshade harshly and you feel the lamp tumble. You gasp and both of your hands reach. The phone falls to the floor and you can hear his concern, cracked and trembling with static, through the phone. You rush to turn the lamp on and a warm glow fills the room. You blink away from the light and reach to grab your phone. You wipe the screen against your shirt and clear your throat.

“Sorry, sorry,” you repeat. “I um- I accidentally tipped the lamp over and I let go of my phone-”

“You’re okay?”

“Mhm,” you hum. ‘I’m good, sorry.” You pat the palm of your hand against your cheek, and in your chest, your heart drums rapidly. “You were-” your voice comes out in a squeak and you clear it away- “you were saying?”

“You know, after coffee, maybe we could come back to my place and-” he lets out a shaky breath- “watch a movie?”

Your smile stretches and you collapse onto the bed, trying to stave off the burning feeling that you have. “Yeah, definitely. When are you free?”

“Would you like to meet this Sunday? I should be able to have a day off.”

With your arm stretched out, you grab at your pillow, the silk case crumpled into your hand, and nails scratching at the fabric and feeling the soft cushion that rests underneath. “Sunday works,” you say quietly. He makes a noise, and you stare at your ceiling, a patch of white paint stains the blade of the fan. “How was work?”

“Work was good,” he answers softly. “I’ve been closer to figuring out how the-” he stops himself and you frown. “I’ve been busy and things are making more and more sense, but I still need to figure out how to actually make it work.”

He doesn’t want to tell you about it. That sentiment doesn’t stray away once you acknowledge it, it only lingers, and it feels like a heavy weight on your chest. You let go of the pillow case and rest your hand over the soft swell of your stomach. Your hand finds comfort over the fabric of your shirt. “I hope you figure it out soon,” you tell him earnestly. The lack of information that he shares with you can only be blamed on your profession and the way that the two of you had met. You sit yourself up, the bed creaking under the change, and you notice how the dog had stopped barking, leaving you in silence save for Johnathan on the other side of the phone.

“I just got home,” he tells you and you hear the car turn off. His words linger, and leave room for you to talk.

“I’m glad that you got home safe.” You stare at the corner of the bed, where the comforter is wrinkled and where your blanket is folded neatly, corners meeting corners. “I think I’m going to head to bed. You should do the same.”

“Oh- Yeah, of course. I- I’m sorry for keeping you.” You don’t reassure him this time, instead, you keep quiet, not a click of your tongue nor a sigh escapes from you. “Goodnight,” he says your name with the same gentleness that he always has, and you lean into it.

“Night, Johnathan.” The bed whines as you move, and in the corner where the wall and the ceiling kiss, you spot a spider, still and silent, and you watch it. And in the darkness, it disappears, and you can only imagine it in your mind until you think you feel something phantom over you.

The door clicks behind you, and you roll your lips to stop a smile from forming, but the effort is futile as your grin grows. “Johnathan,” you chirp, taking a step forward to look around, “your place is a mess.” You catch his eye and he visibly winces.

“I- I haven’t had the chance to tidy up.” He picks up a pillow, and attempts to fluff it. It’s placed delicately on the corner of the couch, and you both watch as it flops over. You huff a silent laugh over it.

You hum, taking a peek over to the kitchen. “Do you want me to take off my shoes?” You tap your heels against the floor and grab at a severely thinned pillow. The pad of your index finger traces over the edge, the fabric worn and threads pulled along.

“No, no. It’s fine. It’ll give me motivation to clean after I return.” He edges further into his home, and you follow, tossing the pillow back onto the couch without much care for delicacy unlike the one given to its match.

“Oh, so knowing that I was going to visit wasn’t motivation?” You cock your head to the side, and lower yourself to a squat to read over a stack of books that are cluttered onto the end table.

“That’s not- I was busy.” You give him an impish grin, and he rolls his eyes. “I haven’t been home in a minute, okay?”

Your smile falters, and your fingertip traces along a spine. Looking over to him, you quickly turn away when he catches your gaze. “Long days at the office?” You ask, focusing on a book. “Hah, “Does Any Of This Matter?’” You tap the spine of the book. “That’s funny.”

His gaze is resting on you, a soft look that makes your skin itch. “Yeah,” he breathes out. There’s movement in the corner of your eye, and you force yourself to read the other titles despite the lack of amusement. “Long days.”

“If you want-” you rise slowly, bending your leg behind you to give yourself some relief- “you can just rest and we can go out some other day.”

He shakes his head. “I’m fine.” And with his body betraying him, he lets out a yawn that he hides behind his hand far too late. Looking at you and your disheartened smile, he waves his hand. “I want to go out today.”

You force yourself to look at a whiteboard that is mounted over a counter. Black marker draws equations that only make your brows knit together. Orange and green are contrasted against the black and white. In the bottom-left corner, there is a crudely drawn person near a black swirled circle.

“Hm-” you cross your arms over your chest- “I don’t understand any of this.”

He laughs loudly, and his hands cup over your shoulders. “Don’t hurt yourself,” he tells you, giving what you’re sure is meant to be a reassuring squeeze.

Your mouth drops and you practically hurt your neck to whip around to look at him. He refuses to meet your eyes, and can only smile coyly. “You are so rude to your guest.” You pull away from him and swat at his arm. You can’t help but want to wander all over his flat, to peek at every nook and cranny, wanting to see more of him, the him that he is when he’s alone and no one is watching. Glancing at an empty water bottle, you find that he lets things clutter around him. A part of you entertains the idea of getting to clean his home together, to sit with him after a long day and have his arms wrapped tight around you. You shake your head at the thought and turn your attention elsewhere.

A bulletin board decorated with various images and newspaper clippings catches your attention and you let yourself be taken to where it hangs. There are sticky notes with random numbers stuck to the bigger poster that’s been layered with other items. You pinch over the edge of an old newspaper, and suck in your bottom lip. “I didn’t know there’s gonna be a new Alechmax in India.” You turn to him, your smile a poor mask for the anxiety bubbling in you. “You’re not getting transferred, right?”

“No!” He yelps, before clearing his throat. “No,” he says in a more controlled tone. “They’re hiring in the area. I might have to visit in the future, but even then it's just a possibility.”

You nod to yourself, and walk around his flat, peeking at every loose leaf of paper, and you can feel his eyes on you. In the kitchen area, you look at the refrigerator. You smile, looking at him with your finger pressed against the photograph. “Awe! Is this you?” He stands with other scientists, all pressed side-to-side, and his smile is small and stiff, shoulders hunched and head slightly bowed.

Soft footfalls quickly approach where you stand, and when you look up, he’s peering at the photo. “It was taken around the time when the new batch of scientists- including me- had started.”

You bump your back against his chest, and his hand wraps around your hand. “I didn’t know you were so sentimental,” you muse. Against you, he shrugs. “We can always take pictures together, too, ya know?”

“We can?” He asks in a timid voice.

“You know, I may be a writer, but I can also take really good photos.” You lift up your free hand and make a motion of pressing a camera button. “Haven’t gotten any complaints about my skill.” His hand squeezes around yours and your grin stretches. “Anyways, you gotta go change, remember?

“Hm? Oh- Yeah. Right, right.” He lets go of you and you turn around. “I’ll be-”

Something else grabs your attention, if it were just one, you could have spied on it on your own, but when grouped with so many, you have to ask. “Why do you have so many cages?” You brush past him and lower yourself, trying to find something inside the clear plastic boxes. They’re not labeled, and nothing seems to be inside. “They’re all empty,” you mumble. You tap against the clear screen, and your fingerprint is left behind.

He grabs you, pulling you away and putting your attention elsewhere. You gasp in shock, and give him a confused look. “Snakes,” he answers, practiced and perfected.

Your reporter senses tingle. “Snakes?” You ask, not believing the story, giving a side glance to the cages.

“Yeah, snakes.” His hands leave your body and you watch him. “Do you want a drink? I never offered you- That was my bad. You want water? I’ll get you water.”

“Johnathan,” you start, and he turns towards you. His eyes are scanning you, and he takes a brief look over to the empty cages. You follow his gaze, and return to him. Taking a deep breath, you take a step closer to him, and pull down the hem of his shirt. “We’re already getting drinks, remember? You need to change. I have an appointment early tomorrow, so I can’t really be out so late.”

“Right,” he breathes out. His eyes glance to the cages and you bite your tongue to avoid asking him anything more. “Let me go get changed,” he mumbles. “I need- I’ll be quick.” Without waiting for an answer, he brushes past you, and behind you, the cages sit empty.

Left alone, you walk back to the couch, grabbing at the thinned pillow and placing it on your lap. You fiddle with the corners, and turn to the end table, the lamp surrounded by books and binders, and giving a quick glance to the room that Johnathan disappeared into, you grab the binder and have it rest on top of the worn pillow.

You’re careful to open it, and your caution pays off when loose paper is at the front of the binder. It’s scribbled out notes, corners bent and highlights made upon certain lines. There’s a business card stuck through a ring. You read the name- Dr. Owens. You stick your tongue out and move on. You find more of what you found in the beginning. Notes that are scribbled out, some crossed out in angry pen strokes or in permanent black marker. Equations that make your head spin, and you flip through each page with care to not let anything slip out. Some pages are decorated with sticky notes that are wrinkled and brightly colored against the black and white pages- letters, question marks, exclamation marks, and doodles decorate each sticky note.

Whatever Johnathan has chosen to write about in this binder is not your concern. You don’t stop to read past a few words of what you can recount from what he’s said previously. In the middle of one page is a recipe, the words smudged, and smeared across the page. You wonder if he’s already made it, and another wonder passes in your mind if it’s something that he would like to do with you. On one page, is a roughly drawn picture of a spider. You stare at the black-inked spider, your finger tracing over it, practically covering half of the drawing.

You hear a rush of steps, and when you look up, the binder is snatched from your hands, and it is snapped shut, and held protectively in his arms.

He wears a white button-up, decorated with black squares and black outlined squares. It’s tucked into his pants. “Oh, you’re ready,” you chirp. The pillow is placed beside you, and you walk past him, standing by the door. “You got everything?”

“Why did you look at it?”

You scoff, a thin smile stretching across your face. “I was bored-” you shrug- “it was just there and I thought-”

“You thought what? You thought you could take a look at my things?” His tone makes you stand a bit straighter, your hands curling inwards, and your mouth goes dry.

You brows knit. “Johnathan-”

“I invited you here so you could wait-”

“You didn’t mind me looking around before-” You spit out, confused about what is unfolding.

“Because I was here,” he snaps. “I was letting you walk around, not open up my things. I don’t look through your things.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I just- It looked interesting. I’m sorry, Johnathan.” You know that you shouldn’t have looked through it and he has every right to be upset, but you don’t enjoy this feeling of him looking down at you.

“His hand slides through the air and you bite the inside of your cheeks. “Don’t touch things that aren’t yours. I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”

You feel your ears burn. “I’m sorry-”

“What did you see?” You turn your head, and your nails bite into your palms. “What did you see?” He repeats.

“Just equations and doodles. Nothing else that I could have understood,” you say meekly. You hate how you feel right now. You hate that it’s him that’s making you feel so small.

“I don’t know why you thought it was okay to look through my things,” he hisses out, and you never thought you’d see him so upset- “but I didn’t give you permission. You come into my home and touch everything and-”

“I’m sorry,” you say loudly, stomping your foot on the ground, and finally he stops. “I can’t do or say anything more about it.” Your face burns, and your hand has begun to shake and even with your nails piercing into your skin, you can’t stop the trembling. “You know what-” you turn your head and try not to feel cold in his home- “you said it yourself that you’re overworked and tired, and obviously I’m not helping, so I’m leaving. We can-” you turn to him, and the stress is leaving, his face softening, and worry replacing any previous emotion- “pick this up some other time. But I’m gone. I’m going home.”

The doorknob is cold in your hand, and it twists softly and you let it go with suddenness when a hand holds your wrist. “Wait, no.” You stare at the door, finding paint staining over the metal. “I’m sorry. I don’t know- It’s just that there are important notes in there and I shouldn’t have left it out-”

“It’s fine, Johnathan,” you say in a tone that makes it quite obvious that it is indeed not fine. “I’m just gonna go home. It was my fault; I shouldn’t have looked through it.” You stay silent, and weakly, you pull your arm free, and he lets it go without resistance. Your teeth glide over your bottom lip. “Good luck with your research or whatever.” You give a wave without looking back, and keep yourself focused on the doorknob, and your hand wraps around it once more, and it opens easily.

You don’t hear the door close behind you, nor do you care to look back. Your ears burn and your chest is hot. The outside air is crisp, and you keep your gaze on the sidewalk, carefully stepping out of people’s way by the position of their shoes. You focus on the weeds that bloom between the cracks. And you only stop when a hand grabs at yours.

Tears prick your eyes, and you pull your hand back to you, ready to spit venom at the other person, only to find Johnathan looking at you, out of breath, and glasses askew.

“You walk fast when you’re upset,” he says between breaths. You stare at him, your eyes wandering to the other side of the street. He follows your gaze, and he reaches for you again, only to stop when you step away from him. “Can we talk, please?”

“I’m going home,” you tell him. “Go get some rest or something.”

“Let me buy you a drink. I- I told you that I wanted-”

“I don’t want a drink,” you snap. And just as quickly, you regret it. You turn away from him, and wait at the crosswalk. You watch the pixelated red hand, and when it turns into the off-white figure of a man, you walk quickly, rushing between people, hoping that he isn't following you, but wishing that he is. You hope that you’re someone worthy of being chased.

Your stomach drops when he grabs at your hand and walks with you. “Then let me take you home,” he says in a whisper. “At least let me do that.”

“I don’t want you to,” you tell him, still walking with him hand-in-hand.

There’s far too many people, your body is growing restless. You walk without purpose, your steps quick and heavy and he follows without a sound, his hand neither tightening nor softening his hold as if in fear that once you’re reminded of him, you’d pull away again. You round the corner of a building, the back of it is empty save for the stray cat that naps over the dumpster. With his hand still wrapped around yours, you step away from him, your arm stretched and your hand clammy.

You take a deep breath and look at him, eyes wide and already filling with tears. He takes a step closer to you, concern creasing over his features. “I’m sorry,” you say in a choked voice. “I shouldn’t have looked through your place.”

Johnathan shakes his head. “You were just curious,” he tells you in a low voice. “I shouldn’t have gotten upset with you.” You turn your head and blink rapidly. His hand lets go of yours and he cups at your face, his thumb arching over your cheekbone. “Please, don’t cry.”

Shaking your head, you tilt your head away from his hand. Your fingertips find themselves pinching over the bridge of your nose, your eyes shut tight where light doesn’t peek, and where organic shapes are the only thing that you can see. “I just wanna go home, Johnathan.”

“Let me take you home, then. We can walk back and-”

When you open your eyes, the sun blinds you for a second. “No.” You hold your hands in front of you, your palms facing him. You turn your head, and let your hands fall. “I just want to be alone for a minute. I know that if I go back with you and we talk, we’ll just-” you stop yourself- “I just-”Your hands shake, a trembling that’s rapid and and makes you feel too seen, too vulnerable, and with the way that his hand stretches out as to grab yours, only makes you want to retreat away from him.

Something speeds by, a gust of air and a mechanical whir to it that has Johnathan reaching towards you. His arms wrap around you, and you’re pressed against his chest, your vision clouded by blue until you shift, pushing yourself away from him. You look up in time to see Spider-man swing by, his attention focused on whatever had just rushed by. Your hands reach for your phone, and you glance at the battery- seventy-eight percent. It’s enough.

You turn to Johnathan, and stare down at your shoes- while not ideal for chasing around the city’s web-slinger, it’ll have to do. Looking back up at him, you find that he’s staring at you, no movement, and no sound. You turn to look the way that Spider-man had just swung towards. You turn back to him, your phone held tight in your hands. “I gotta go,” you tell him.

“You’re going to chase after Spider-man and some villain of the week rather than talk to me.” His tone is a mixture of hurt and accusatory, as if you’re doing something wrong- again. And you know for sure that you are this time, you know that you should go back with him and talk it all out, but the thought of being alone with him right now makes you upset.

“Yeah.” You shrug. “Yeah, I will. I am. Get some sleep or something, we’ll talk later.” Your heels spin against the concrete, and you rush to chase after Spider-man.

As you trudge down the sidewalk, your camera is heavy around your neck and despite the padding, the straps make the soft flesh around your neck raw. All you want right now is to collapse on your bed, or take a shower. You hum, a shower would be nice. In your pocket, your phone buzzes- something that it’s been doing all day. If it’s not emails, it’s notifications from social media, and if it isn’t that, it's phone calls and messages. You answered the people who you wanted to talk to but when the name ‘Johnathan’ appeared, you promptly ignored it, the buzzing thick in your pocket and continuous.

You should talk to him. It was a fight- an argument, really. But you can’t look at him right now, nor do you have the energy to talk to him. You’ll figure it out in the morning. You’ll have a light breakfast and message him some type of apology and then he can make the difficult decision of replying or not.

Closer to your home, on the steps you see someone and you halt. Your hands grab at your camera, and you tap your fingers against the sides. You could turn around, find some other entrance. If people can use fire escapes for something other than their intended purposes, so can you. The heel of your shoe scrapes against the concrete, and before you can spin on your heel, the person looks up and sees you.

Jonathan stands up and pulls the hem of his shirt down, and you hold on tighter to your camera. Canines worry at your lip, the flesh soft and tender underneath the sharp points. He takes a step toward you and you glide your foot against the concrete, ready to run, ready to look at anyone but him. But he falters, and his shoulders slump, and the sad look on his face makes you walk nervously up to him.

You say nothing, and he stands at the bottom of the steps, and you stand above him, and he says nothing. Neither of you make a motion to talk to the other, and a part of you wants this to end. You don’t like the difficult bits, you like it easy. You like not having to worry about what the other person is thinking of you, but now, it’s all that you can do. You hold your breath, unable to think of anything other than the beginning of your supposed coffee date.

He points towards his neck. “When did you get your camera?”

Covering the lens of the camera with the palm of your hand, you tap your foot against the stair. “I was lucky Spider-man was near the office. I was able to pick up a spare.” He nods, and you move down a step when another tenant enters the apartment complex. “Do you want to come up?” He nods, and follows closely behind you.

Your apartment is cozy- littered with personal objects and mail that sits at the coffee table. The spare camera joins the mess of your stuff on the table. He makes a motion to his shoes and you wave your hand, not caring at the moment, only wanting to distract yourself. He nods, and slips them off. You keep him in the corner of your vision, watching as he walks gently to the couch, sitting at the end of it with his legs bent and knees and thighs close together. The blanket that you use is crumpled and he sits beside it, grabbing at the corner of it and testing it between his fingers. You hold your breath and walk toward the fridge, opening it and pulling out two bottles of water. The frost over its wipes away with your touch.

“Were you waiting long?”

“Since 8.” You look at the clock on your stove. It’s 9. “You didn’t answer my calls.”

“I was busy with work.” You're quick to get to the point. “Where there’s Spider-man and a villain, there’s always bound to be some sort of danger.” You place the water in front of him and sit a cushion apart from him. Your water is in your hands, the cold slowly numbing and wetting your palms. “Got some good pictures, still and all.”

His eyes scan you over and you look away. “Are you okay?”

“Peachy.” You press into the bottle and a droplet of water traces down your arm.

“I’m serious.” He turns himself to look over to you.

You hunch over, your forearms resting over your thighs. “I’m not in a hospital, am I?”

He swallows. “I don’t like how we left things.”

You sigh and dip your head down, before lifting it with weariness. “I already apologized, what more do you want?” The water bottle is placed carefully on the floor, and even with your carefulness and gentleness, it still falls over.

“I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.” Your lips pull into a line and you grab a bunch of the blanket and dig your hands into the soft plush. “That was wrong of me. But-” you push yourself against the back of the couch and he stops. “I apologize.”

Your chest rises with your inhale, and falls down at the quick release. “What more do you want me to say, Johnathan?” You turn to him and he pushes his glasses up by the bridge. “Let’s just forget it happened. I won’t go to your place and look through your things. We’ll just- I don’t know- meet at my place. It’s not like I’m doing anything other than journalism.”

He says your name delicately, whispered as if saying it out loud would be too much and said with strain as if your name is too heavy for his tongue. “That’s not it. I’m really sorry.” His voice breaks and you flinch, looking away. “Work’s been a lot, and Dr. Octavius and Mr. Fisk are breathing down my neck-” he waves his hands, rolling his hands and flexing his fingers- “but- but that’s no excuse as to how I talked to you. I don’t want- The less that you know, the better.”

“I know,” you say curtly. “I remember our conversation from before.”

He sighs. He crosses over to sit beside you, the blanket held in his hands, the corner edge of it now held tightly. “I’m sorry,” he tells you. “I’m not good at this. I’ve dated before, but that was before things at Alchemax were getting serious. I’m not- I like you a lot. When I saw you reading through it, I-” he shakes his head, and his knee touches yours. “We met because you were determined to know more about Alchemax.”

“I told you before that I’m not using you to get to that.” Your back is straight, and your hands curve over your knees, the knuckle of your littlest finger grazes against his knee. You want to take his hand. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything else.” He takes your hand, and holds it tightly between the two of his. “We can put this behind us if you want, but I promise, I won’t talk to you like that again. I- I didn’t like getting mad at you. And I didn’t like the feeling that it left me with.”

“I didn’t like it either,” you mumble. “It felt like you were talking down to me, rather than to me.”

His hands tighten around your own. “I won’t do it again. I promise.” You nod and you feel much more tired than you had before. “Is it okay if I hug you?” You nod, and he lets go of your hand, and embraces you.

You lean into him, your hands fisting at his shirt, clawing into him to keep him against you. Unlike your feverish grasp onto him, he holds you gently, his hands laid wide and flat against your, curving over your body, and holding you close to him. He leans into your touch, whereas you push yourself against him. His hair tickles at your nose, and you keep your eyes close, full intent to sit there until he’s ready to pull away. You’ve made your peace to sit there, to let vines grow and keep you tethered to the couch, to not let go of the smallest comfort that he's given you. When you feel his lips press against the side of your head, you press a faint kiss over his shoulder, content when he runs his hand upwards and presses another kiss against you.

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rottenblur · 8 months

Text

My modern Romeo |J.MILLER| part two.

Summary: The one year anniversary of meeting joel is your favourite memory, almost getting caught, him confessing his love. Your first kiss with him, only if a year of desire could be cured with just one kiss..

Warnings: fluff, you and joel playing truth or dare like cmon fluffiest shit ever, alcohol you and joel, kissing, making out, grinding on joel???? Semi smut. Joel says a naughty thing y’all. Almost getting caught

It’s one whole year since you met the grumpy old man that lights up your Friday without fail, looking at your watch it reads 2:20am. On your last trade you and joel both decided to meet before four, as every time it ends up dawn before either of you want to go back.

It’s starting to get risky, not that Joel wasn’t trusted to be out till daylight. It’s the fact suspicions of what he was doing out that long, started to rise.

You on the other hand, you weren’t aloud to be out at night, upon request of your parents. Anyone on watch was told to snitch on you, if they saw you out past 8pm.

A whole adult and you were still being treated like you couldn’t fend for yourself.

You take off your grey shorts, slip on your tight black jeans and take a peek in the mirror.

You catch your gaze falling on how your ass looks. God the fuck is wrong with me. Never once have you caught him looking at you in that way, yet you still want him to.

Taking off your loose hoodie to reveal a tight tank top, the heat giving you an excuse to show more skin, you pull on a tight crew neck sweater. Maybe a little too small for you, the bottom of your tank top showing when you lift your arms.

You always dressed up for joel, wanting him to think you were put together. Even though he always showed up in the same worn out blue jeans, he probably had a closet full of them.

You thought about what he might be doing, is he reading one of the many books you had given him, talking with family? Did he have family, you’ll have to remind yourself to ask.

Was he getting ready thinking about what you would think? Probably not, he had confidence. Alot more than you could ever dream of having.

Three am hits, you put on your holster, slipping your gun into it and taking one last glance into the mirror. Okay, you look fine, he probably doesn’t care anyways.

Walking to the meeting spot, a field surrounded by large rocks about a twenty five commute for the both of you. Your heart is in your throat, it always was when you walked to see Joel.

He had an affect on you. Scared of him not showing up, or him actually showing up just share some news that, its getting to risky, he has to stop seeing you.

Your feet hit the familiar grass, it’s worn down into a path from the common commute. You can see a figure sitting in the grass, wearing that same god damn tan jacket. You never got tired of seeing it, seeing him.

A smile that refuses to give rises to your face. “A bit too warm for a jacket don’t you think? Do you have another jacket, poor thing gets too much use.”

He turns his head and a smirk comes to his face, you sit down next to him. “Ya trying to get me outta my clothes? Actually I do you smartass, I just like it.”

Yes. Yes you were trying to get him out of his clothes, even in this god damn felid. You could never say that though.

“So, i know you said we weren’t trading today, but you said something about a walkman last time. I couldn’t forget that, as im incredibly jealous, i got you something.” You pick a cassette out of your pocket and hold it out to him.

He smiles and takes it out of your hand, reading the worn lettering. “Radio head? I actually brought something too..”

You look at him. “What is it?”

He opens his bag and pulls out a bottle of whiskey.

Oh fuck. This, drunk you, is definitely gonna ruin this friendship.

“You ever try this kind before? It’s okay, found it on a supply run. Wanted to save it for a special occasion.” He holds up the bottle for you to see.

He remembered. He remembered!

He opens the bottle takes a swig effortlessly downing it. “To the anniversary of you almost shooting me” He laughs at his own joke, then passes you the bottle.

“Oh fuck you.” You shove him, then take a gulp, coughing as it burns down your throat. He tries to hold a laugh in.

“First time?”

You clear your throat and try to play it cool. “Just been a while”

He shakes his head and takes the bottle back. “No point in lyin’ darlin’. Gonna be a long night, you’re not leaving without getting shitfaced.”

Thirty minutes has passed of you and him passing the bottle back in forth, you’re clearly way more gone than he is, you’re already saying your every last thought.

“You know, i never really got a proper teenage experience like in books.” Taking a sip out of half gone bottle.

“Well I can’t exactly say i know the teenage girl experience, but books are kinda over dramatic.” He looks at you with glossy eyes, maybe he was drunker than you thought.

“Like truth or dare. Never played it before, not alot of kids in the group.” You huff and pass him the bottle.

He laughs, pinching his nose bridge. “I’ll play with ya sweetie.” Tliting his head.

Was he flirting? Was joel fucking miller flirting with me.

“Truth or dare?”

He smiles at the stupid childish game he was playing. “Truth”

You let out a “hmm” then come up with a question. “Do you have family?”

He lets out a groan, takes a sip then passes you the bottle. “I do. A brother, back at jackson, tommy he’s younger.”

A brother, you wondered what their relationship was before the apocalypse. If they got along growing up, if they got along to this day.

You take a swig, slowly growing to the strong burn, a blush spreading to your cheeks.

You two go back and forth for another twenty minutes, the liquor disappearing till the last shot is left, all yours he says.

Its his turn to ask you a question. You’re not sure if you could give him a straight answer, nor talk without giggling. Everything was slowed, the gust of wind didn’t bother you anymore, your body was on fire. You understood why people drank now.

“Truth or dare hun.” The petnames were littered in every sentence now, if you didn’t think he was drunk earlier, he was now. You take the last swig, throwing it across the felid, it shattering on impact.

“Dare.” Little did you know that one word would change everything between you to.

“Kiss me. I dare you to kiss me.”

Fuck. You were in no state to say no, your feelings were overwhelming, the confidence you had was overwhelming.

You were wrong, wrong all this time. Maybe he was checking you out when you weren’t looking. Thinking he was staring at eyes, but he was admiring your plush lips all along.

You swear the blush from the alcohol, mixing with your blush from the words, had turned dark crimson, his desire burned your body.

You lean forward, he looks surprised you’re actually doing it, unknown to him you’ve had a intense crush from the first time you saw him. A year of pining and teasing was finally rewarded.

The space between your face and his disappears, he leans towards you pushing your lips together. He places his hand on your jaw, the other in the crook of your neck. He kisses with hunger, like he wanted to consume you. You kiss him back, he deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth, exploring.

It was too late to tell him this was your second kiss, your first real makeout sesh.

You grip his hair and straddle yourself on him, this pulls a groan out of him.

He moves his hands down to your hips, pulling them down onto his. You’re so close to him, you can’t breathe. His jeans rubbing into yours, your chest pressed tight against his, his hands engulfing your hips.

He pulls away for air, panting practically, you can see the blush covering his cheeks. “Is- is this okay- do you want-“ You cut him off pulling him back in for more.

Your hips unknowingly start to grind on him, the more pressure you put on him the more he moans in your mouth. The kisses getting more sloppy, more teeth and spit.

You can feel him hardening underneath you, his jeans uncomfortably tight. Your panties soaked, your jeans creating the perfect amount of friction, all you wanted to was undress him, see all of him, have all of him.

Its getting hot, the harsh weather due to the lack of sun meant nothing. Between the alcohol and the fire that was burning in your core it was unbearable, you rip your sweater off. He pulls away, looking you up and down, his eyes holding a tight gaze on your chest.

You both are out of breath, he moves a hand up to grope your chest, squeezing and holding. Your hips pick up a faster pace, a rougher pace.

The sounds of his groans, your whimpers fill the air. No other sounds are heard in the dead of the night, other than your wet lips fighting for more and the sound of your jeans brushing on his.

He mutters something into your mouth, you pull away.

“What?” You’re out of breath and flustered.

He looks at you, those god damn glossy brown eyes could make you cum alone.

“Fuck, i dont know what to do with you. I can’t stop thinking about you darlin’.”

You whimper. “Neither can i”

He kisses you one last time and pulls you off his lap, adjusting himself and sighing. You spot a stain of precum soaking a spot in his jeans, god that make you tremble.

“I- uh we gotta stop. I won’t be able to control myself other wise.”

Fuck. That make your knees weaker than the alcohol did, you drank a shit ton of alcohol, yet he had a bigger affect on you.

“Fuck, i hate it has to be this way, i want you. All of you.” You say, letting out the biggest sigh you could muster.

He practically growls at that.

“I can’t believe i waited so long to do that.” He shakes his head.

“Are you serious? You’ve liked me that long? I’ve been thinking you didn’t even think i was pretty.” You almost shove him.

“Darlin’, what if you didn’t feel that way ‘bout me? I’d feel like a shitty person, especially since you know, you’re young..” He sounds sad, but jesus he’s fucking hot, how could he ever think you weren’t head over heals for him.

“..For the record, i think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Wish i could get you out of my head, thinking the dirtiest things ‘bout you when i get home from seeing ya.”

Fuck. It was unbearable how he was making you feel, you push your thighs together.

“I-“ You get cut off by the sound of hooves pittering on the ground, matched with a deep voice yelling echoes off the mountain’s rocks.

Your heart jumps to your throat, you check your watch, fuck. It’s five, its been three hours since he had left.

His face drops, he signals you to go hide in a cluster of bushes a couple feet away. You run over trying to be quiet, before you become one with the bushes, he holds up three fingers. Got it three am, next Friday.

“This” wasn’t over, he was willing to risk everything for you.

You try to peek through the bush to see whats going on. Joel pulls out his gun, the man approaches on his horse, dismounting it and pushing joel.

“God damn it joel, the fuck are you doing, you were supposed to be home for patrol.” The man looks around. “What are you even doing here?”

You squint your eyes trying to get a better look at him, the sun aiding you. He looked like joel, longer hair, shorter and younger. Tommy. His brother, it must be.

“Chill tommy, i went for a walk, heard a clicker. I’m fine though, thanks for askin’.

It was almost attractive how easy he could lie, especially when it was to protect you.

They walk off, all you could here is mumbles. Till those mumbles turned to the sound of horse hooves hitting the ground, the sound slowly disappearing.

That was the first time you almost got caught, yet it is your favourite memory.

You replayed the night over and over walking back. Sneaking back in praying you wouldn’t get caught. Even if you did, you would die happy, joel likes you, he kissed you.

Part one here

Part three here

My masterlist

AN: PART TWOO!!! Even though this series isn’t getting much attention i very much like it!! Answering a question no one asked study break part three is coming soon don’t get your panties in a bunch unless joel put em in your mouth, then go right ahead ;)this is kinda a slow burn cause like they aren’t supposed to see eachother

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armin-supremacy · 2 years

Note

How about the demon bros with an mc who flusters easily, and they all make it a competition to see who makes them fluster the most

ooooo! say less~

pov : operation fluster mc

pairings: brothers (separate) x gn!mc

format: headcannon

genre: fluffy fluff, slightly suggestive themes

this man

unlike the others, he's r u t h l e s s

leans more towards whispering suggestive words in your ears rather than actual touches

take much much pride in the fact one simple little comment can turn you into a mess

once again, smug asf

does it as soon as you're alone

only to waltz away like nothing happened

what a prick

and he knows it

that's what makes it fun

for shits an giggles, will on the one occasion do it when the others aren't looking

then will OPENLY out you

"mc are you running a fever? you're awfully red-"

his expression is filled with worry

but you both know he's enjoying watching you stutter an excuse

swears he's got this in the bag

he doesn't srry

half the time, he ends up flustered too

wack asf if you ask me

anyway

def will use this as an opportunity to touch you anyway he can

knows you have a weak spot when your neck is touched

"mc, you've got something in your hair. don't worry. the great Mammon will take care of it!"

BOOM

now you're flustered

holy shit it actually worked

his go to

that's why he most definitely does not have this in the bag

you smart cookie, you catch on quickly

hear me out on this one kay

would definitely freak out and hesitate

ya know, being a lil shut in and not the best in this 'area'

but

he's also smart

can use this to an advantage 😈

'accidental touches' when you're alone

makes sure his fingers are always brushing against yours when handing you something

"a-ah I'm sorry mc! i-I didn't mean to!-"

"Ah i-im such a clumsy g-gross otaku!"

really had to pep talk for this one but

'accidently' huffs just the teensiest breath against your ear when he leans over your shoulder to look at what you're showing him

and oh ho ho was the pep talk worth it

+1 for levi-chan <3

let's get one thing straight cause I'm not happy pride besties

Satan wins.

I don't accept criticism srry

he's so detail oriented

so observant

how could he NOT

knows just the right places to brush against to drive you wild

knows exactly what to whisper in your ear too

bestie you better stay strong I have faith in you

sike

always has that handsome shit eating smile when he succeeds in flustering you

"That's a cute blush you got there-"

most definitely finds an opportunity to have you pinned against a bookshelf in his room idc he DOES IT

finally he can touch you and tease you as much as he wants without being scolded 😈😈

a very close winner if Satan wasn't on the ball

man's knows how to drive a person wild

the compliments he usually showers you with become much more suggestive

"You look stunning mc!"

you don't know when he got so close

gently tilts your chin, which he found out you're a sucker for by accident oops

"almost delicious too. you'll allow me a taste, won't you?"

GIVES THE CUTEST FUCKING POUT

you almost cave

almost

you were too busy dying tho

okay okay he flusters you alot

but he genuinely does it on accident

and so nonchalantly

like, he really thinks of ways to actually make you flustered

duh it's a competition and you're part of the prize

of course he's gonna think of ways to win this

again the accidental

"Oh, mc you got some food there-"

leans over to like it from the corner of your lip

Ouran Host style

"can't waste it, can we?"

the cutest grin by God

goes back to thinking of ideas on flustering you

meanwhile you're right next to him

about to explode by how red your face has gotten

this little fucker

slips into your dreams

he may not seem like it, but he knows exactly how to get you how he wants you

like Satan, he's observant but more low key

so he's using everything he's noticed about you in said dreams

makes SURE you're flustered the rest of the day, constantly thinking about the night before

acts completely oblivious when you bring it up to him

and once you're embarrassed

oh ho ho

goes to walk past you but surprises you by leaning to your ear

"I'll try to be more subtle next time."

H O W-

~~~~~~

👀👀👀👀 so how'd I do?

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me mammon #obey me belphegor #obey me satan #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me headcanons

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n3onstarss · 10 months

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OMG THERES NOBODY TALKING ABOUT LYLA OUGH IM FIXING THIS RIGHT NOW

So, here's Lyla x Spider-Woman reader! She may be OOC, but I'm using what I've analyzed from what I've seen (haven't seen the movie, but it's all been spoiled so it's whatever lol)

Blood, injury and panicking are all present, alongside some oblivious crushing on both sides :)

•••

Lyla knew how dangerous it was to be a Spider-Person. After all, she had been created for the sole purpose of helping one of said spider people.

But Miguel was tough. I mean, all spider people are, but he had trained to be Spider-Man. He hadn't been bitten, he hadn't been thrown into this like the rest of the spider people, or at least as far as Lyla knew.

So when she was scanning her screens and got a notification about a fight on Earth-921, she hurried to check in. The notification hadn't said who needed backup, only having a voice message attached, but it was requested.

She knew immediately who's dimension it was, and she knew how stubborn you were. You wouldn't call for backup unless you really fucking needed it and urgently

Oh. My. God if shes dead I'm going to kill her! The thought crossed her mind briefly, and only amplified Lyla's panic. The thought of being the first to respond, only to find you dead? terrified her.

---

My webs were launching and pulling me almost faster than I could keep up, attaching to surrounding buildings and sending me swinging in tight circles and loops around the villain I was battling.

"Too fast for ya, scales?" I teased as I let myself slide under the villains tail like an Indiana Jones movie. My version of The Lizard was more gator like, reminding me of Leatherhead in the TMNT comics I'd seen. And the cherry on top, he was pissed the fuck off. a low rumbling growl emitted from the gator as he span to keep up, trying to find a window of attack, a moment of weakness.

I launched myself as high as I could go when his back was turned, slingshotting myself off two tall apartment complexes, hollering all the way and laughing like a crazed woman. Staring up at the sun, I thought I could touch the clouds like this. The adrenaline rush was amazing, it was part of the reason I kept doing this! I turned and let myself free fall carelessly for a moment before resuming my circling attack pattern.

It only lasted a moment longer before my head snapped to the side when I thought I saw a civilian, a child, standing just inside a convenience store. Without really thinking my webs adjusted my path towards the child. I had no game plan, no idea what I was doing, but I'd work it out, I always did.

But I forgot the most important rule, never turn your back to a villain.

A heavy weight slammed itself into my back, winding me. Sharp obsidian claws wrapping around my shoulders and throwing me backwards. As i hit the ground concrete tore open my suit and back as I tumbled head over heels, and not in the fun way, along the road. Skipping like a pebble and leaving cracks and torn up asphalt in my wake.

I couldn't catch my breath, having been effectively winded again by the final impact, but I forced myself to me feet. I was hunched and swaying side to side when I called for backup, pressing the panic button and leaving a message as instructed as I thwiped into the skies again one handed.

"Heyyy, it's me," I held the watch near my face as i moved, trying to keep the audio undistorted, "Uhhhh I don't know how to explain this but The Lizard got into super crack or something methinks and he is PISSED. I could really use some backup right now!" I cut off with a scream as he swiped at me again, lodging a claw in my calf that i kicked free with my other foot. I hissed in pain and my voice cracked as I spoke again, "Yeah, definitely need backup haha! anyways, civilians in the area, angry croc, destroyed property, y'know the gist. Thankssss!"

I continued my streak of circling, attacking, hissing at a injury i hadn't noticed, and repeating until I ran out of juice. My arms were exhausted and I was nearly out of web fluid. I used some of the last to (finally!) seal the wound on my calf. The Lizard turned to face me now, face to face on the ground, or as face to face as you can get to a 8 foot or taller gator.

"Pick on someone your own size!" I quipped as he threw the first punch. "Or don't." I muttered under my breath, pissed off at the situation and myself for letting it get to the point I needed backup.

The Lizard and I circled each other, fists raised and growling at each other. I faked him out a few times to lighten the mood and provoke him, but he didn't react.

After a minute or so more a golden light and figure appeared on my watch, and The Lizard took that time to charge.

"WHAT are you DOING??" I asked slash yelled as I dove under the villain, dropping to the ground to avoid being grabbed.

"Backing you up! You did call for backup, didn't you?" Lyla spoke, voice full of worry and yet smug. She leaned around where the watch and therefore her were held at shoulder height and her eyes widened a little as The Lizard began to turn towards us again.

"Ha! got me there!" The villains footsteps soon the ground as he ran, and my spidey-sense was going off like crazy, but I didn't move. "Did you alert anybody else? cause despite how much I love your company," I dodged under a punch and spun to kick The Lizard in the gut, sending him flying, "There are civilians in the area."

Lyla scoffed, striking one of her signature poses before speaking again, "Of course I alerted someone! I sent out a general notif, Noir said he's on his way and so did Peni."

Relief flooded my body for a mere moment before I launched into a backflip to dodge The Lizard. I felt like a bullfighter. An out-of-web-fluid bullfighter.

"Thank you Lyla, what ever would I do without you?" My tone was teasing, but my words were sincere.

"Die, probably." Lyla didn't miss a beat, she never did.

"That's for sure!" I got ready to run up a wall as The Lizard approached, but my leg wound started to open up again and i stumbled.

"What is that?!"

I was a little too busy dodging fists and trying not to inhale a shit tone of dust from a villain trying to trample or punch me currently to respond in full.

"Oh. Got cocky, got clawed, the works." I don't know why I was trying to appear nonchalant about something that was hindering. You don't need to look cool in front of Lyla, we've been coworkers since You were 16! that's 6 years!! but now you wanna act cool? God you're stupid!

A stray punch missed us by an inch, and Lyla looked worriedly at where the arm had been.

"Hey, you good?" I was worried that Lyla was worried. She was always so unbothered! It was worrying to see her scared

"If course! Why wouldn't I be?" She shrunk away from the next kick too. "I just think we should, IIIIII dunno.. leave?" Her hands were gesturing wildly as she spoke. A jaw snapped itself closed way too close to us for my liking.

"Hey dickhead!! we're trying to have a conversation here!" I yelled before biting into the closest limb to us, a leg.

"old ohn ight!" I tried to say as The Lizard reared up, shaking his leg violently. Lyla and I clung on comically as his leg flailed, her onto the watch and me onto his leg.

A flash of gold and red light caught the edge of my vision, and all three of us kept an eye on the portal. The Lizard halted his flailing for a moment, and I took the chance to readjust and sink my teeth in deeper. Lyla popped out of existence from my watch and i could see a glimpse of gold above Noir's wrist and he ran through the portal.

---

God this woman is a fucking idiot! First she's out of web fluid, then she's injured, and NOW she's clinging to a villains leg by the teeth!!

The light and colors indicative of a portal alerted me to backup arriving after what felt like eternity, but was only around 5 minutes when I checked the time. I glitched myself out of her watch and into Noir's.

"Heyy! so good to finally see you!" Sass drips like venom to the point even I can hear it. "So! rundown!" I started as Noir began his approach, "Civilians nearby, she's out of web fluid and her leg is cut open. Imma pop back over there and check on Her you got this, right? Cool, see ya!" I cut out before he can even speak.

---

Lyla popped back up on my watch, clinging onto the edge again even though she didn't need to.

"So! backup is here, and it's time for youuuu," she leaned over and poked the tip of my nose, causing me to scrunch it, "to retreat! You'll bleed put or lose a tooth like this," She gave up on hanging on, sitting with her leg crossed and inspecting her nail, rolling her head towards me to emphasize her point. "y'know?"

I narrowed my eyes at her jokingly before attempting a smile and nod and sinking my teeth in deeper. On the next kick I detached myself and let myself go flying, attempting a cool posed landing and failing when my bleeding leg buckled and gave out momentarily.

"dammit." i mumbled as I stood up fully and watched as Noir, and now Peni, who just ran past me, circled and tied up The Lizard. Lyla disappeared again as I turned to make a new portal to HQ.

---

"Hey hi me again! So, we're outta here because she need medical treatment," I relayed to Peni, pointing my thumb over my shoulder, "Good luck, aim for the legs cause shes a biter, have fun!" I glitched out again, leaving a shocked and confused Peni behind.

---

Lyla reappeared as I stepped through the portal, sitting on my shoulder in her pocket-sized version now that we were in her domain of HQ.

"Soooooo what happened again?" She spoke up. I could tell she wanted to know why I was struggling, so I explained as she leaned against my head on the way to the medbay.

I had to hobble with my right hand on the wall for support as we went, and in turn we received plenty of weird stares from any passing spider-people. I only caught it once in my peripheral, but Lyla flipped a group off.

We continued our journey, and I got lost in my thoughts. I have no idea what I would do without Lyla.

•••

sorry it's short! i tried my best sorry if it's OOC! from the clips I saw shes sassy and smug (Miguel backup scene) but also panics sometimes (Margo and her scene and also tracking the Spot) so i tried to incorporate that!! please send requests!

#lyla atsv #lyla x reader #lyla atsv x reader #atsv x reader

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gaym0m · 11 months

Text

Something people find very interesting about me and my likes, is that I find jawline, necks and collarbones very very very attractive. Like literally makes my knees week and my— ya know.

Anyway, because if this I’m so sad no one has done this so imma do it.

Not smut. Like at all, but definitely suggestive. I don’t think I could write coherent smut.

Just Ellie for now since I owe her one.

One more not before I start, the way you can see her whole neck AND the drool im—

Okay okay sorry. Back to the one shot.

Warnings: mentions of Jay, of course suggestive stuff. Uhhh I dunno Beth being a little shit lol.

Soft lips gently pressed along the knuckles the tattoo artist, the kids with their auntie meant you two had all the time and space in the world to enjoy of each other, mind, body and soul.

Emphasis on body.

Ellie couldn’t help but chuckle at you’re actions, the kiss on certain body parts she wasn’t sure had ever been kissed. At first she found it cheesy, but after months of dating she didn’t know if she could be without it.

Just like she was no longer sure if she could live without the gentle kisses you would place on her cheekbones, or even her jaw.

She wasn’t sure she could live without your arms squeezing her waist or how you would nuzzle again the area where she shoulder and neck meet.

Ellie didn’t know what she would do without your playful kisses that started on her lips and lead down her jaw to her chest.

Or the ones that started at her knuckles and followed up her tattooed arms till giggles bursted from her lips. (Although she’s sure you had gotten that one from the Addams family).

Jay was a lot of things, he was a good husband while it lasted and a great dad but he could never compare to the next door neighbor that stepped in when she crumbled.

He would never compare to you, the one that immediately had everyone (even Beth and herself) wrapped around your finger with your kind nature and over all loving attitude towards the family.

Her ex would also never compare to you, from the way you sensually ran your fingers through her hair. The gentle tug when you wanted to break a long kiss just to aim for her jaw.

Then from her jaw, to her neck and her collarbones.

She didn’t understand your fascination with that area, but she appreciated the restraint you showed the first few times when she still had her ‘no marking’ rule. (She wasn’t ready to explain to the kids that the much you get neighbor who helped them and babysat them every once in a while was also her. . . Lover?).

Eventually they figured it out, from shy smiles and “hidden” kisses when you two were too caught up in eachother to see that Bridge had entered the kitchen for a soda. . . Poor kid didn’t get a soda but she was happy her mom seemed happy.

Of course, Ellie sometimes still got a little (not really) upset when you’d loose control. Then again those were also the more fun she had on bad days.

Those were the nights when your teeth grazed her jaw, her neck, her chest. The nights where she almost couldn’t look down at you, her body too strung up in pure white pleasure that her head was stuck thrown back.

Sometimes those where nights where she was stressed out, and you took every second to appreciate every inch of her. Your jaw sore, same as your arm but that didn’t stop you. Nothing really did stop you until Ellie unraveled beneath your touch, with a silent mantra of your name and twitching legs.

Other nights, you had a rough day. Of course you would never take it out on her, but she would still notice. And she would tell you a story of a day filled with struggles for her, because while she wasn’t a fan of lying, she knew just how relax you felt after you carried her to the edge and back.

Those nights where slightly different, with you hands gripping her hips enough to leave pretty bruises (which she sometimes wanted to outline and tattoo on herself). The same nights where you’d leave a few more marks while laying out a roadmap of the love and adoration you held for her.

Those nights, her fingers were sore from gripping the bed or at your hair while she remembered to cut her nails next time as she felt the skin of your back warm up after she raked her fingers down the soft skin.

Every night was a pleasurable ride with you, but those nights left her legs weak even the day after. And marks which lasted more than a few days.

Those were the nights that would cause her to flush as red as her hair when remembering.

She could still remember the smirk on Beth’s face the day after one of those nights, they were meeting up for lunch after Beth dropped off the kids at school. Ellie’s legs were still slightly trembling and her voice still hoarse.

“Not. A. Word. Betty-Boo.”

“Hey I wasn’t the one getting ra—“

“I said not a word!”

“Okay okay! I would ask how it was but clearly it was good.”

“I hate you.”

“Yes I’m aware.”

As much as the teasing annoyed her, she did find it slightly amusing just how much of a mess you made her (and her pants).

#beth bixler #beth evil dead rise #ellie evil dead rise #beth evil dead #ellie bixler #ellie evil dead rise x reader #ellie bixler x reader #maggot mommy

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ofliterarynature · 7 months

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AUGUST 2023 WRAP UP

[ loved liked okay no thanks DNF (reread) bookclub*]

I’m late I’m late I’m late! Oops

It’s only a month late, right? ‘Only’ lol, work has been exhausting! Anyways:

At this point I wonder if Ann Leckie can ever do wrong, Translation State was good! I was completely enthralled, which is all I ask, even if I don’t get as passionate about it as the main trilogy.

I continued the KJ Charles reading, with these supposed stand alones that are also kind of related? Honestly it’s no less of a stretch than Society of Gentlemen to Lilywhite Boys, so I don’t know why she can’t officially list them together. Anyways, mostly fine, and Band Sinister is still a delight!

Camp Damascus…I’m thrilled for Chuck, really, and I think he’s a delight to follow, but this one wasn’t for me. Religious trauma is turning out to be a hard no.

Ocean’s Echo was good! In some ways I definitely thought it was better than Winter’s Orbit - miscommunication is the worst I’m sorry, this story was more consistently engaging! I just like the characters from WO a bit more.

Chrestomanci! I’ve been going by the suggested reading order on Goodreads, and while I wasn’t particularly enthused by Charmed Life, once I had a grasp on the world the other books have been fun! Im very sad this might be my last DWJ, as I seem to have exhausted my library’s collection of her audiobooks :(

Grimoire of Grave Fates had a really interesting premise that lured me in, despite my reservations - an anthology where all the stories work together to solve the mystery of a murder at a magic boarding school? I thought it worked fairly well (and could definitely spin itself out into a series of novels), but just ok for me. Maybe one day I’ll finally concede I can’t read YA or boarding school books anymore.

Q’s Legacy was the last (I think) of the 84 Charing Cross Road books, and honestly the worst. It had its interesting moments, but it lacked the cohesion of the other two, speed,-running the before and during of those stories, to then spend the second half on the adaptations. It was not at all what the descriptions led me to expect. Maybe worth a single read but not a revisit.

I will also be honest, I didn’t really like the first Veronica Speedwell! The plot felt a bit contrived, and Veronica was so blunt as to almost read as rude or mean. Also very unexpectedly…clinically horny? Does that make sense? I’m not quite sure what prompted me to continue, but I’m now several books in and enjoying it! To be blunt myself, the historic setting is just set dressing, the plots can feel contrived, the mysteries are mediocre, but the real draw is the Veronica and Stoker show once they get themselves settled in and comfortable with each other. It’s a hoot.

I’d heard good things about The Art of Prophecy, but I still didn’t know quite what to expect going in. It was wonderful. Maybe a little long, but if you’re looking for a fantastic fantasy with lots of fight sequences, no romance, and some fascinating characters, this is a great read. The sequel comes out soon and I can only hope it doesn’t take as long for my library to get the audiobook as it did for this one.

I don’t know where I first found An Enchanted April, but it’s been on my TBR for a little bit, and I thought it would be the perfect fit for my classics challenge I gave myself this year! It wasn’t what I expected at all - it’s entirely character driven and very focused on their flaws, and the entire first half I thought I was going to hate it. But the second half, there’s a twist, almost, born of some very naïve optimism that nonetheless works out. Very improbably, but I was happy for them, you funky little weirdos.

What can I say about The Angel of the Crows except that it is still very good! It’s maybe lost a little of the shine it held when I got obsessed with it for a few months last year, but it is definitely now one of my comfort books. I really ought to read more canon Holmes though lol.

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo was, to be fair, one of my suggestions for book club. It was OK, but there were definitely parts that really did not work for me, the frame narrative in particular. The other members of the club really liked it but I don’t have any plans to read more of the authors work.

I’m almost tempted to put The Last Sun last just so I can yell more. I’d heard such good things about this series, but turns out my expectations were a bit skewed - it is not historical or secondary fantasy world, oops. So we got off to a bit of a rough start, not to mention all of the Capital Words. Not usually a good sign. And while I still wouldn’t say I love the worldbuilding necessarily, or that these are the next great work of fantasy, the action is really great, and the characters are flipping fantastic. You’ve got a pair of 30 year olds who are bad ass fighters, have a traumatic past, are immature assholes, can be so so kind, and accidentally adopt a posse of troubled teenagers? Sign me up, I love them, this reminds me so much of my days reading tons of Teen Wolf fanfic AUs.

My history with 2 AM At the Cat's Pajamas is that they cannot stop recommending this thing on the Book Riot podcasts. When I found a copy at Goodwill, I thought surely it’s meant to be! Well. It was not bad, but it was not great. I don’t know. It just wasn’t for me and I will not be keeping my copy. I probably should have DNF’d it, but I continued in hope.

Only one actual DNF this month though, The Mistress of Bhatia House - the newest Perveen Mistri book. I was actually fairly excited for it despite my reservations about the earlier books, but I hit a mental roadblock with this one. There was some contrived feeling tension with her sister-in-law, but really, I realized that one of my main problems with this series is that, despite being in a very precarious social position, Perveen is just incredibly reckless - usually in the name of doing good! - but it just hit all the wrong nerves at the moment. I’m hoping there will be a better time to read this, but not right now.

#bec posts #2023 #book log #wrap up 2023 #translation state #kj Charles #camp Damascus #oceans echo #chrestomanci #diana wynne jones #the grimoire of grave fates #helene hanff #Veronica speedwell #the art of prophecy #the enchanted April #the seven husbands of evelyn hugo #tarot sequence #the last sun #2 am at the cats pajamas

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