#I say having never finished breaking bad
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#:’’)#eyyyyy I have surgery !#so#hiatus announcement even tho highkey doubt like anyone would notice lol#I’ve never actually mentioned before when I plan to take a break#bc it’s usually more menty b coded#acute#but Ik I’m gonna take a break from posting and Ik it might end up being longer than I think it will be#so. this is base covering#bc also as a separate thing internet has been highkey pissing me off#chronic#just chock full of takes and structurally annoying#classic#I do have some posts scheduled#and some timely self rbs#and also an unscheduled draft I’ll post whenever I update my fic lol next ch is almost done so I prob will finish and get it out soon#ish#anyways thank u for looking#might not be gone long enough anyways for this not to b cringe in retrospect#but I’d feel bad if I inertiaed in a fuck off direction and came back ages later w out saying anything
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finished hera & started lady macbeth and we have got to start blaming women for shit again for real
#this is a joke. but.#if i have to read one more retelling~ that’s just#‘but what if the woman was ASSAULTED ALL THE TIME and had NO AGENCY so everything bad she did was JUSTIFIED or a LIE???’ please stop#when you’re actively taking agency away from women written and portrayed in deeply patriachal cultures you’re not giving them a voice#youre taking the voice they had away.#women worked around and within the patriarchy while having feelings and ambitions and wants and dreams and flaws and virtues forever.#without the necessity of ‘but what if the MAN in her life was just SUPER EVIL and NOT NUANCED and she was just ASSAULTED’#what if no women wanted anything but SAFETY ever what if they were never power hungry or jealous or predatory ever themselves?#yes circe did this too if i have to see one more person say ‘oh except circe’ i will scream.#circe is literally like. the worst offender here.#pivoting back though sorry but it also all feels very bioessentialist PRESUMABLY without meaning to but ‘oh men are just inherently evil#with no nuance. nuance is for women and by nuance we mean was just super oppressed and wronged’ is uh haha actually terfy as fuck#good ol lady macunsexmeherebeth who definitely didn’t plot the whole thing to begin with for sure needs to be Given a Voice#i haven’t finished this one yet btw. i like this author’s work on the whole i just think this one is a swing and a miss because like.#this is not a woman who didn’t do anything and who didn’t have a voice.#if you want to show us her perspective in terms of her psychology and her inner workings and how she got to this place excellent wonderful#but not when the answer is just ‘but actually nothing was her fault ever!!!!!!’ like. lol let her want that crown for reasons that aren’t#my husband is abusive.#like oh my god.#same with hera you’re gonna go with the ONE tradition where she didn’t want to marry zeus#and all her rage is just about Injustice and the Patrairchy and not actual envy. okay.#she & zeus were an og most toxic couple of all time but they WERE in virtually all tradition a couple still who had times of reconciliation#and attachment.#like you know. actual toxic and abusive relationships do.#also it completely erased rhea who was actually the character whose story this more closely resembled#(warrior goddess with flop husband she finally schemes against)#instead she just. uh. went away oh no hera’s so afraid of being weak like mama she must break the cycle.#like okay this is the story you want to tell stop superimposing it on mythical entities from thousands of years ago then.#justice4rhea.#okay sorry. end rant.
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#Seven's Public Diary#vent#vent post#cw vent#cw vent post#can i go more than a fucking week without having my cptsd triggered again? pLEASE???#me and my haywire nervous system can't ever catch a fucking break i swear to god#at least i managed to get the Matt fic posted before that happened and ruined my night#literally three minutes after i hit post. something has to happen IRL and ruin my slight good mood. sigh. anyways#my chest still feels tight but my focus is coming back i think. lets hope the rest of the night is uneventful#anyways. uh. positives. got the Matt fic posted on here And Ao3! yay. after working on it the last two evenings it's officially done#i know i put way too much effort into my fics especially ones that will get very little readership but eh i can't help it#time spent doing something you enjoy is never time wasted or however the saying goes#uh oh. the stress injury in my neck is starting to feel tight again. that's probably not a great sign#i should try to relax. been sitting at my desk too much recently and my back's mad abt it too#i would unwind with some Genshin exploration grinding or smthn but that's just more desk sitting time#so hm. animal crossing in bed it is then#watch me say that then spend the next 3 hours on tumblr#i cant help it i want to update my pinned posts and fill my queue up some more#and i have some drafts to work on... still need to finish that Sun & Moon appearance guide for ES#maybe i'll pull an all-nighter. i need to fix my sleep schedule again. like badly. but then i risk a migraine. aaggghhhhhh#anyways this has been Venting and Bad Decision Making 101 thabks for coming to my TED talk#oh hey look at that i got a like on the Matt fic. mood slightly improved. thank u whoever u r <3
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the eternal struggle of reading webcomics/manga/manh(w/u)a that i think are really good but have cringe ass titles so i can't recommend them without someone doubting my sensibilities and taste in stories
#not that my tastes are *that* good...#or do people ask me for good comics often enough for this to be a real problem#or.. people talking to me at all for this conversation to come up...#anyway please ask for some comics to read. i need someone to join me in my warrior's path#of reading things but never finishing them because either they aren't done being#written and/or translated yet..#or whatever the word for when adhd says i can't read any more because the story is *too* good and so i get paralysis trying to keep reading#to anyone curious-#i just caught up with sss-class revival hunter#and was reminded how much of a sucker i am for romance... ;_:#GUH i can't gush in the tags here... there's already too many tags#but it's soo good#here's my recommend of it for those reading the tags:#really good starting plot- read a synopsis for that i'm bad at that#there's a little dip in attention keeping between the end of the introduction phase and when he starts floor 10#but if you get past that little dip it's all up hill from there#ough i'm still thinking about it.#IT'S NOT A ROMANCE BTW. the most recent plot is romance but that's not the overarching thing#at least for what's out. idk how much what happened is going to effect the rest of the story#ok ok i need to stop talking about it because i'm getting too riled up and overpowering the melatonin i took. don't want to break my sleep#schedule over this#key's lockbox#rambling in tags#btw i don't have shame in the stuff i read regardless of their bad titles#i just wanted to use this premise to get my words out about enjoying my latest read
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Maaaaaaaaaaaan, come on.
(the post has ended up in the tags btw. I am not changing this and I need you to understand that it is just me talking to myself semi-publicly)
#Nevi Writes#things said by a guy writing a thing he doesn't even intend to be writing and it's like 10k of words now. >:[#while that's true I do want to emphasize that nobody should get excited about it right now tho okay#because like it's just. idk. I feel very much like it could end up not worth pursuing anyway. it's just a little baby wip.#(when the fuck did my little baby wips get to be 1/4-1/2 the length of my previous 'finished' stories!! what the hell)#it just feels nice to make words tho. and it does have that kind of 'ah good to catch up with these guys again' vibe which is nice.#even if the break has once again been like. on the order of days to a week maybe. I'm so bad at this taking a break business suddenly. lel.#but I don't have anything much to say about it at this point#other than I'm debating inventing a reason that presidential elections would have been moved by a couple of years between now and 2212#what is it with me and having to be so damn precise with dates in this whole narrative. am I just mad that Capcom never tries?#(yes) (so mad)#(and 2212 would actually be an election year is the problem. I want time to have passed but I also want there to be a pres. election.)#(it's fine don't worry about it)#(this is how I decided that Blucifer got bload up and then replaced also. weird reliance on mashing up IRL things and fictional explosions)#(but it's fun isn't it? got that veneer of verisimilitude. I'm good at long words)#idk this is inevitable isn't it. but I'm going to keep playing like it's not. I think I need a little more space for this one mentally.#the first one just sort of fell out of my head fully assembled and the second one did that also but with different vibes#though it did actually take some cutting things and adjusting things to make it work which Failure to Compile did not#Failure to Compile was bizarrely effortless until the mad editing dash. Outcome Unpredictable was WORK#fun work at least! but in hindsight it was definitely more work to make it flow properly.#the real job for the 3th if it happens is gonna be wrapping up threads without dropping new ones in bc that's such a habit of mine now
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starting to realise that damn maybe there really is just something fundamentally wrong with me
I have more dumb shit to say about it but you can only have 30 tags?? that's some fucking bullshit. anyway tl;dr: fictional characters not real, I'm depressed about it, I'm a mess my life's a mess everything sucks, I'm crying, life sucks. I've got issues.
#I don't want to be dead#I want to be alive but. not here. there's nothing that could happen in my actual life that would make it good enough to be worth it#I feel so fucking pathetic and gross and broken but the only people I want to be with are fictional#I can't even do the fandom thing and make friends that way. I don't want to talk about them. I want to be with them and nothing else#I'm just. stuck here and I'll never be happy and there will never be anything that I want as much as that#it's so. fucking. pathetic#but like what is there in real life. what could happen that would be good enough. I'll finish uni one way or the other. I'll get a job.#maybe we'll be able to have our own house someday#and then? what then?#it'll happen over and over again. I'll fall in love with these fictional worlds and these fictional people and it'll break my heart every#time again and again until I die#there's nothing else. there's nothing that I want. nothing in real life will ever feel that good because. obviously it won't. it's real.#it's not perfect it's not made up by me specifically to be everything I want#I can't rewrite the same scenario over and over again in my mind until he says exactly the right thing to make me feel better#I'll never have these perfect friends or this perfect guy or this exciting but safe life because it's. just. not real#I just#I don't know how I can keep doing this#I'm so tired#I can't keep feeling like this#it feels so fucking bad#how goddamn embarrassing is it to be an adult in your 30s and just. lie in bed sobbing until you fall asleep because your fucking fictional#crush isn't real and your fictional friends aren't real and you'll never know what happiness feels like#because it can't even get close to the fucking joy you feel when you think about them. it's everything#it feels so fucking good just for a moment and you need it over and over again but you know you can never have it#I'm driving myself insane#genuinely insane.#to the point where every time it gets worse. every time I get these feelings I feel higher and lower than ever before#it feels better and more intense and more amazing. then I realise I still have to be here. I still can't go away. and it feels like dying.#every time a part of me dies.#it's so fucking silly. I know how melodramatic this all is. oh wahh life is so boring and I'm sooo sad over these fictional people I'm gonn
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this is peak gender to me idc
#I never finished breaking bad#btw#I have months where I wish I could shift into this and then my problems would be solved#and then after like 3-4 months I'm just nah I'm going full fem#and I'm allowed to do both#says me
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I’m sorry I haven’t been posting a lot lately, and for rbing a ton of prompts, it’s just been. Really not great the past year or so and I’m kind of reaching that point where you’ve worked through burn out to like. Burn out 2
#I’m hoping. I might be able to get hand surgery soon. which I’m hoping helps with out long I can work w/o needing extensive breaks#won’t help w/ the computer or overheating tablet but at least I will be free of one flavor of Hurts. which would be nice#I hate talking abt personal stuff/mental health stuff on here but like. I’ve been doing bad! really bad! and. I guess I just wanted to say#something because. I’m always afraid of being seen as lazy or a liar (like when I say I’m working on stuff that never gets finished)#and I guess I basically feel like I need an excuse. I know I don’t. but I feel like I do and so I’m sorry#things have been really stressful and I swear I’m trying to figure everything out#wait don’t forget to hydrate and stretch and take a break I’m being so serious I say it all the time#but if you’re reading this please. please don’t forget to take care of yourself even in little ways#sunny with clouds
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ik im being over dramatic but jm like rly fuckjng upset
#i sent a bad textmessage and i shouldnt have but im literally like. so i credibly nagry and its fuckjng dumb as shit#i helped daj with her cottages bc she said she was behind so i helped her out yk . n she finished them an hour early and said shed come#help me finish my rooms since i helped her finish an hour early. so she judt cucking stands arojnd for 30 minutes waiting for maya to be#done with her 1 room (i had 3). they clme in and make the bed so shittily that i have to entirely remake it anyways. and then say 'shelby#(their friend whos a server) is on break rn were gonna go hang out with her and then well be back 👍'#so im like. fucking ok. whatever.#they never fuckjng came back. didnt even text. i didnt even get my fuckjng break bc i had to rush to finish my rooms bc i put#myself behind to fucking help daj. whatever
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The most uncomfortable feeling ever is watching Sausage Party while eating.
EDIT: Okay ignore the tags. I watched the last 25 minutes of it and they were certainly not as profound as the beginning. I knew there was a food sex scene but holy mother of god
#I’ve killed… so many ����#Yeah if you have hyper-empathy maybe skip this one… I don’t and it’s making me question my food lol#sausage party#I appreciate the Twilight Zone reference with the cookbook and the Meat Loaf scene#I definitely don’t appreciate the blatant racial profiling especially considering when it was made#But I disagree with the sentiment that it’s the “worst movie ever”#because clearly whoever is saying that has never seen Tender Dracula or Partners or the shaky camera movie about dinosaurs from 2013#Sausage Party is actually very well done and has some excellent commentary on religion and nihilism#It’s the deranged bastard child of Toy Story and Animal Farm and I love the worldbuilding#I seldom watch a movie that renders me speechless and unable to make witty remarks#I was in awe and shock for the first twenty minutes at the sheer uh [vaguely gestures] I don’t even know what to call it#I’m taking a break unwillingly because my headphones died and I need both ears bathed in sound for the full experience#I was expecting it to be stupid but it isn’t. It’s Tusk (2014) levels of absurdist dark humor#It’s very flawed but I don’t hate it#I want to write an analysis on it so bad but 1.) I have to finish it and 2.) People might think I’m insane#and 3.) They would not be wrong#I have no honor and no excuses#I didn’t even plan on watching it; YouTube just served it to me on a silver platter tonight and I said “fuck it I’m not doing anything”
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Just had the chance to take cute pics on an animal crossing themed set with life-sized props
#teach says#it made me want to go back to my island so bad 🥺#i think ill start dedicating at least half an hour a day before bed to animal crossing#otherwise i never have time to play#cant do it on my lunch break because ppl come and talk to me and then i always end up starting something in game and not finishing and stuff#id have to set my switch clock as if it was morning tho#cant play at night all the time lol#ive never time travelled in animal crossing but i guess its time to start :D
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this is love ft. kento nanami
a/n: a few sappy slices of life with my main man :3 enjoy as i dig up motivation to finish kinktober. 18+ mdni!
"honey?" kento's voice is muffled through the door as he calls out to you, "everything okay?" the door rattles as he tries to open it, knob jingling.
"uhm, yeah! everything's fine!" you nervously shout, much too loud, and rush to unplug the iron that had melted your husband's favorite shirt. you panic and yelp when the hot iron scorches the side on your hand, throwing the stupid device to the ground in a clatter.
"why is the door locked—are you okay?" he asks, voice becoming more concerned as he hears the movement inside.
"i'm—i'm fine! promise! just give me a minute!" you're rushing into your shared master bathroom to run cold water over your hand, and kento’s using a screwdriver pulled from thin air to break into your bedroom. tears well in your eyes when you catch the sight of kento seeing his favorite shirt burnt and melted to his own ironing board. "i’m so sorry…"
in reality, he doesn’t care about the shirt—he’s already at your side to inspect your burnt hand. after a few seconds, he speaks.
"did you try to iron my shirt for me?" nanami asks, a small smile on his face, "you didn’t have to do that." he turns off the faucet and takes a small towel to dry your hand off.
"i tried to, i’m sorry—i didn’t know it would do that." you apologize, looking down at the cold tile flooring in defeat.
"oh, honey." he coos, "it’s only a shirt."
"have you seen your father?" you ask your son, yū, who’s sat at the dining table, eating breakfast. he shakes his head no, and when you look at your daughter, mayu, she does the same.
"jeez," you grumble to yourself, bedroom slippers pattering down the hallway as you go to search for your husband. saturday mornings were his time to sleep in, but realistically, he never slept past 9am. and currently, it was nearing 10am.
you check everywhere. he isn’t found in the bedroom, living room, his office, the garage, the patio or in the little garden he kept. upstairs, downstairs, everywhere, he isn’t there. and when you check in your bedroom for the last time, you hear a soft buzzing coming from the bathroom. upon entering, you see your husband bent over the counter, leaning close in the mirror as he shaves his stubble with an electric razor.
"there you are—when did you get that?"
kento had always been a clean shaven kind of man, going to a barber shop once every two weeks for his straight razor shave. it hadn’t even crossed your mind he didn’t go after work yesterday.
but when he looks at you—you burst out laughing. he’d shaven most of his beard off, but a few fuzzy patches remained on his cheeks, along with a mustache grazing his upper lip. peach fuzz and a few knicks litter his chin. this was the first time you’d seen him unable to do anything perfectly. and he looks ridiculous.
"is it really that bad?" he groans, pouting when you wrap your arms around yourself in a giggling fit. you shake your head, although your unforgiving laughs are a testament to the opposite.
"no—no, let me help," you say after calming down.
after gathering a new razor and some shaving cream, you sit atop the counter and your husband stands between your legs. kento is surprised how flawlessly you shave his face, without creating any more marks or cuts. you giggle and kiss him, getting some shaving cream on your face.
"ken?" you shout from the kitchen, where you’re sat, working on your dissertation. it’s been a long road of blood, sweat, and many, many tears; but you’re finally getting towards the end. about to earn a doctorate.
"yes, darling?" kento replies, walking into the kitchen on queue, his timing impeccable.
"can you read over this paragraph, please?" you kindly ask of him, pointing to your most recent written paragraph. he leans over you, planting one firm palm on the table, the other on your back; his eyes read along the sentences and his fingers tap along your spine.
"ah," his finger becomes more focused on a certain word, "wrong 'there', honey."
"no it's not..." you instantly retort, squinting your tired eyes to read over your writing. and you're right, it was the correct one the first time. this was his version of teasing you. but kento couldn't keep up the face much longer before he's giving in with a shit-eating grin you didn't see that often. "you're funny." you groan as kento stands back up.
after reading over the paragraph for about the nineteenth time, you notice kento silently slipping you some tea before turning back around to keep himself busy with cleaning. you absentmindedly take a few sips, then some more...and you find yourself becoming more and more sleepy...
and you're out like a light, forehead pressed directly against the table as a puddle of drool forms on the papers below. kento already has a warm blanket straight from the dryer to drape over you, and you stir just enough to get comfy on your arms.
kento knows that his back will hurt in the morning, but he sits around the corner of the table next to you, settling his head into his arms to drift off to sleep alongside you.
music of your taste plays rather quietly in the kitchen. you stir the pot of soup and inhale the flavorful aroma that wafts through the air.
kento sets two bowls next to the stove, then rummages through your silverware drawer to find two spoons. the kids are at their grandparents for the weekend, it's only you and your husband, converted into the duo you were long ago.
you step away from the stove to go fill up two glasses of wine, the brand kento had as his favorite had slowly turned into your favorite over time, too.
kento fills up the two bowls to the brim of the delicious food, grinning on the inside at the simplicity of it all. just you and him. he lids the pot with the matching glass top and makes his way over to the table.
you set out place mats for the both of you, then place the wine glasses in their prospective areas. kento places the bowls on top of the mats as you grab the spoons from the counter.
in the kitchen, your bodies subconsciously dance around each other. carefully, in perfect tune and pace. delicate steps of a routine formed over so much time together.
in the universe, your souls are tied, striding alongside one another in each lifetime repeated.
and this, is love.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#kento nanami#kento nanami x reader#nanami x reader#kento nanami fluff#nanami fluff#jjk fluff
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The Love and Deepspace Boys Trying to Get You to Sleep ⋆。°✩
Tags: Fluff, teasing, needy boys, mild sexual content, gender neutral reader (I had to re-write so please let me know if I messed up.)
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Xavier is surprisingly softer than you expected when you first met him on your mission together. He’s an incredibly powerful hunter but possesses a quiet and gentle, almost oblivious, aura when navigating everyday life, like a ghost floating through the space he takes up. It should also be understood that this very nature of his makes him affectionate, so much so, that he won’t unwrap his arms around your waist and stop pressing his head to your shoulder as you sit at the kitchen bar, typing on your laptop.
“Are you planning on staying up later than the stars?” he mumbles.
There’s a gentle yawn against your skin from the sluggish man, highlighting just how long he’s been trying to coax you into going to bed.
“I wanted to finish this report for work.”
“The report will be there tomorrow,” he says. You swat away his hand that reaches for the power button on the laptop causing him to pout. He grumbles. “You should go to bed. Otherwise, I can’t sleep.”
Smiling to yourself, you decide to tease him. “Oh, so you’re really trying to get me to go to bed for your own benefit?”
“Well, you can’t very well expect me to do it by myself anymore.” Xavier nuzzles his head into the slope of your neck, cuddling you. “It’s your responsibility since you ruined my sleeping habits.”
“Ruined?”
“Ramshackled,” he repeats quietly, causing you to giggle. With an airy sigh, he presses his weight into you more. “How do you expect me to sleep when I can’t hold you?”
Defeated, you save your work and close the laptop. You swivel in your chair, enough to meet his eye, and cup a hand to his cheek. It never stops being endearing to you how he cutely closes his eyes and angles his head to snuggle your palm.
“Alright, alright, you don’t have to beg.”
His eyes flutter open, and the smile on his face grows as he wraps his fingers around yours. Carefully, he pulls on your hand to bring it up enough to begin to lace your wrist with affectionate kisses, tracing your pulse.
“I thought you enjoyed my begging.”
“That’s different.”
“It isn’t,” Xavier mutters into your skin, pressing another light kiss.
“It is.”
“So, you're resolute about that position?” he questions “innocently”. There’s something mischievous about the glint in those arctic eyes, which makes your face warm. You find yourself breaking eye contact, or else you’d lose it.
“Yes.”
Xavier chuckles then begins to lead his kisses down your arm. “In that case, care to explain the difference in detail, love?”
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
“Sleep.”
“But—”
“Sleep.”
Zayne narrows his eyes at you from his side of the bed. You can’t blame him for being a little annoyed right now but the movie you put on to fall asleep was much better than you expected; and instead of falling asleep, you were more awake than ever at a very late one in the morning.
“I’m almost done with the movie,” you tell him, hoping he’ll cut you a little slack this one time.
“Everyone dies at the end of their own stupidity,” he bluntly states and grabs the remote. The television turns off with an overly loud click, and you pout. “Now, sleep.”
Crossing your arms over your chest, you huff. “You’re the worst.”
“I’m fine with that title if it gets you to rest,” he explains with a smooth yawn. “Poor sleep habits lead to bad decision-making later. You’re more likely to develop high blood pressure, and with your heart in particular—”
“I get it. I get it,” you say, wanting to be spared the lecture. Zayne is a good person and a better doctor, but you wish he didn’t worry about you so much just because you might have a little big heart problem. Sighing, you squiggle onto your back and pull the sheets up to your collar, kicking them a little childishly in the process (totally not to let him know that you were not pleased with his spoiling). “I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
“Very.”
Zayne turns over onto his side, away from you, and you frown at the loneliness. Softly, you poke him in the back, once, then twice then a third time before you finally get a hum in response.
“Am I really not getting a good night kiss?”
“Do you need one to sleep?” he asks, his voice deeper from the lack of sleep, urging you to convince him to kiss you even more.
“Duh,” you explain. Slowly, he turns back over to look at you, propping himself up on one arm with a look that says “Is that so” as you continue to ramble. It makes you a little flustered when he watches you so intently. He’s always had this silent dominance that makes you obedient, but you could get what you want from him just as easily with the exact opposite strategy. Cutely, you puff your bottom lip out at him. “There has to be some health benefit to it. Kissing makes people all happy. Happy is good, right?”
It takes a second for him to take in what you say, those smokey eyes closing in on you with thought before he climbs over you. He places both hands at your sides and quickly boxes in your upper thighs with his knees.
“You’re thinking of dopamine,” he says.
“Huh?”
“That makes you “all happy”,” he explains and presses a deep kiss to your lips, leaving you thoughtless and breathless all at once. He moves to your jaw, and you begin to squirm from the pressure of his impassioned lips.
“And Serotonin.”
Another kiss, lower.
“Oxytocin.”
He’s at your shoulder when he starts to nip your skin, and one of his hands moves to ski up the back of your thigh.
“Reduced cortisol.”
Flustered, you grip his arms.
“Zayne, stop, it tickles,” you whine, but it’s the last thing you actually want as he readjusts his position and hovers above you.
His usually neat hair is messier and his breathing a little heavier judging by how his chest laboriously rises and falls. Groaning, you bite your bottom lip as he knowingly leans in and whispers,
“You need it to help you sleep, isn’t that what you said?”
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
“Why don’t you just say you don’t love me anymore?”
You look up from your phone screen at the sudden accusation. You’re resting on the couch, your back propped up by the armrest and legs splayed out on the other cushion while Rafayel looks down at you with crossed arms and a less-than-pleased scowl on his face. You’re entirely confused as to what you could’ve done to make him think something like that.
“Huh?”
“You’ve been playing video games for what—the last two hours?” he says, uncrossing his arms to grab your phone. It’s too late to warn him as he glances at the screen, clicking a few times. “What are you playing anyway? An…otome? Sheesh, go ahead and say you want me gone. Come on, tell me you actually hate me.”
Holding in your smile, you shake your head and affectionately roll your eyes. It takes an enormous amount of effort to not laugh as he continues to rant. “So, it’s one of those things. I thought I was actually in trouble.”
And by those things, you mean his dramatics.
“Hush, my complaints are perfectly legitimate,” he demands as he pushes your legs aside and sits on the couch. Leaning over, he flashes the screen at you to show the evidence he has that you’re completely unfair, unfaithful, and downright mean. “What’s this game giving you that I’m not? Are my dashing good looks and even better personality not enough? Is that it?”
Gently, you take the phone from his hand and set it down on the end table. “You’re plenty, perfect even.”
He scoffs and refuses to look at you. “Apparently not. Don’t you ever think about anyone else? What if I want to cuddle with you one day but you’re too busy to notice because you’re playing silly games?”
Ah, there it is. His real want. You never know why he can never just come out and say it.
“Rafayel, do you want me to come to bed and cuddle with you?”
“Want is a strong word,” he remarks but you can see his resolve (can you call it that when he planned to give in all along?) crumbling as he slowly turns back to meet your gaze, “but I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Not that you deserve it or care.”
Humming, you sit up, wrap your arms around his shoulders, and pull him down onto you. Lovingly, you snuggle him, stopping to only take in how red his neck and ears start to get when you squeeze him and start to stroke through his hair. You’re not sure if Lumerians can blow happy bubbles like he claims, but he definitely hums and relaxes his entire body weight to lay on top of you like he wants to sink into your skin.
Teasingly, you coo at him. “You’re so needy.”
“I’d rather say you humans aren’t needy enough,” he fires back as he wraps an arm around your waist and kisses the corner of your lips. “Ah, the sweet taste of victory.”
Giving out a gentle and short laugh, you lightly tap his back. “Go to sleep.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
#zayne x reader#xavier x reader#rafayel x reader#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace fluff#love and deepspace smut#adelssmut#notsfw
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i'm going to destroy this damn phone
- the boss avoider
#long vent / rant on tags open at your own risk#straight up turned off my phone and put teams on do not disturb because i was TRYING TO WORK and kept getting interrupted by his whining#(he particularly said he needed me to work [read: be at the office. december 22.] while hindering my ability to do so !!!)#like the job is lame and boring and all but as much as i bitch about it i overall don't mind it that much#i was on a nice roll. think i finished this first website draft in record time (it's not very complicated but still. just 2 days)#and i stg i never have any problems with my project heads yknow. it's not a matter of being bad at receiving orders or w/e#and regardless of what he might say the communication problems are not on my end. bc again it doesn't happen w anyone else#i brought it up with him and he said 'well communication is a two way street you have to do it too' but tell me how can i talk to this man#i misunderstand a message he sends bc he never ever details what he wants even after i specifically asked him to yknow#tell me the whole information when he asks something of me#and then i respond based on the message i received and he goes 'well show me where i said that' FUCK YOU#he's always so passive aggressive about it all too#like if you say 'we have to look at the marketing materials to make new social media posts' and then. not tell me anything else#how am i supposed to know that there's a specific folder and you want me to take the text previously written and put it on new images#like that's a whole other sentence my guy you cannot be mad that i thought you wanted me to scour your social media and#make new posts whole cloth. fuck right off i have to put in my notice bc it's impossible to work under a man like this#like forgive me for the expression but he absolutely lacks leadership skills#if you're not good with people you should just delegate those parts to people who are and focus on reading about the metav3rse#GOD. i'll soon be sent to the seaside for my health (new years trip w my friends) but. i won't be on break at all so :grimace:#because there's that too. haven't had a single break except for holidays but like. only the DAY of the holiday#holiday on a thursday and you're expecting a nice four day weekend? well too bad get fucked you're working that friday#like jesus you're not providing anything so important you need to work your employees every legally allowed day of the year#just stop for the holidays! people won't die because someone's website has been delayed for two weeks!#to think i even considered learning frontend to branch my career options. i'm not stepping foot in a tech company again in my life#i mean there's still self important bosses everywhere. my friend's at a marketing agency and god knows the owner is crazy but#the grindset is gonna kill you and i won't let it kill me too.
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"Look who's talking, Mr Ponytail and a Crop Top," Steve says with a smartass grin.
Eddie looks down. "Huh?"
"You," he waves toward Eddie's general vicinity, "looking like some kinda Metal Cheerleader." He noticably swipes his tongue over his bottom lip.
Okay. This is it, this is the perfect moment to tell Steve he's sending signals that he definitely doesn't understand he's sending.
"Steve," he has to clear his throat before continuing, "I need to tell you something."
He leans in, wide eyed and focused. "Yeah?"
That's not helpful. "Um. So, to guys like me... Gay," he chokes out, still hard to say aloud even though he knows Steve knows, "sometimes you say things or do things that come off as...flirty. And I know you didn't know," he rushes to explain, "but I wanted to make you aware. To not do that. You know, in case the wrong person overhears it. It's a safety concern," he finishes lamely. Safety concern! Ugh. More like 'You're breaking my heart, I can't take much more of it.'
He waits for Steve to say something but he's just blinking owlishly.
"Steve?" He prompts, concerned.
"......yeah?" He finally seems to come back to himself. His eyes drift away, over Eddie's shoulder. "So...you want me to stop flirting?"
"Yeah, just in case, you never know who-" Wait. What? "What?"
Steve still isn't looking him in the eye. "What?" He mumbles.
"Did you say..." He can't even repeat it, it sounds like putting words in his mouth, but he did say that, right?
"Yeah. Sorry. I'll stop. I didn't realize it was bad, I guess. I thought... It's stupid. Nevermind. I'm gonna, um, take off actually. I'll see ya around, maybe."
He hops off the back of the van and actually starts walking away, like they're not 6 miles from his house. That snaps Eddie out of the paralysis spell he was under, adrenaline taking over like a bump of cocaine.
"No!" He shouts, like an insane person, and then takes it one step further by jumping up and tackling Steve into the grass.
"Uggff," Steve grunts when Eddie accidentally shoulders him in the gut, but he ignores the embarrassment in favor of crawling up his body so they're eye to eye.
He gets Steve's face between two hands and smooshes it. "Were you flirting with me on purpose?" He shouts.
"Are you serious?" He mumbles, half coherent, through pursed lips. "I'm gonna jump into the quarry."
"Answer the question!" He rattles Steve's head a little bit, for good measure.
"I work for Scoops Ahoy." Steve deadpans, unamused.
Eddie is going to throw one hell of a tantrum in a second. "Steve."
He smacks Eddie's hands away from his face. Doesn't bother to move out from under Eddie, he notes absently. "Yes, dude, obviously I was flirting with you on purpose! I thought that was, like, an understood thing that was happening. Why are you surprised?"
He feels like he's losing his mind. Why are you surprised the grass is made out of taffy? Would've made more sense as a question.
"Because you're straight." The duh is implied.
Sensibly, he asks, "Why would I flirt with you if I was straight?"
Eddie becomes very aware of every inch they are pressed together. Aware of the sound of the leaves rubbing together in the wind, aware of Judas Priest still playing through his speakers. Love Bites is a hell of a track to be having this revelation to.
"You're not straight?"
"No."
"And you were flirting?"
"Yes."
"With me?"
He rolls his eyes, not an ounce of bitchiness lost to his embarrassment. "No, Eddie, with the crusty blanket on your van floor. Yes, of course with you- Mmmphh!"
They probably shouldn't be making out on the ground at Settlers Quarry in broad daylight but, honestly, the shambling corpse of Jason Carver could show up right now and Eddie would not give two shits. Steve slides a hand down the back of Eddie's pants, grabbing what little bit of ass cheek he has, and Eddie thinks, Hope you're watching from hell, you bastard. Enjoy the show.
#eddie: you were flirting with me on purpose?!!!#steve: all those girls were right not to go out with me im a fraud im a fake i couldnt flirt my way out of a wet paper bag#idiots to lovers#steddie#ficlet#my writing
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graphic | mark lee
pairing: mark lee x afab reader
word count: 6.6K
summary: stuck in the monotony of your job at the mall, every day feels the same: opening the store, sitting behind the register, and counting the hours til close. you've even memorized the routines of the stores around you. but when a new guy starts at the comic book store across the way, you realize your predictable days may soon change.
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, comic book store employee!mark, retail employee!reader, really cute and fluffy until it's not, public sex (public space but no one is there), unprotected piv (DONT DO THIS), mark throws u around like a lil play thing, oral (fem recieving), fingering, use of a petname (baby), lmk if i forgot anything!
author's note: this one took forever yall i know its been a while! been going thru some shit irl but things are settling and i was deadset on finishing this bc it's so cute :'-) thank u to T and @hausofmingi for being my beta readers ( ˘ ³˘)♡
working at a mall can be really tiring, but it’s not so bad when you have a crush.
you’ve been working at a retail store at your local mall for a few months now. it’s boring, there’s too many people on the weekends, and you have the worst hours. you found yourself working open to close for far too many shifts. but at the end of the day, at least it keeps the bills paid.
on slow days during the week, you’re always sat at the register, scrolling through your phone or twiddling your thumbs, counting down the seconds til closing time. sometimes you would even stare off into space, watching people pass by all day long.
you went to work always knowing exactly how the day would go; set up shop, maybe help some customers, and do fucking nothing for 8 to 10 hours. maybe a wave to the employees at the stores surrounding you, but sadly, that was usually the most interesting part of your day. you became accustomed to the monotony though, watching the same employees open up their shops next to yours.
the store directly across from yours is a comic book store. you know the few people that worked there, usually just saying “good morning” and going on with your day. you swear, you have this store memorized, knowing when the employees take their breaks, who’s working, what they’re working on that day. you didn’t really mean to, but when all you have to do is daydream, you kinda picked up on the routine there.
so when you arrive in the morning for yet another brutal open-to-close shift, you expect to just roll up the security shutters and sit back at the register all day. but there’s something different today; or rather, someone different.
sitting at the register at the comic book store is a man you’ve never seen before. his hair is perfectly messy and his glasses framed his eyes, which are focused on reading a comic. he’s working all by himself, which is surprising to you since you’re certain he’s new. you catch yourself staring and try to brush it off. he’s a new guy, so what?
you try your best to go about your day as normal, but you can’t help stealing glances over at the man at the store across from you. he has a captivating energy, and it makes you want to know more about him. he seems charismatic, being friendly with customers and earning smiles, then resuming his doodling once they leave. you notice that when he looks really focused, he bites the corner of his lip gently.
you gotta stop staring, or he will definitely notice. you decide to actually work on something for once, organizing the stock and straightening the shelves. soon enough, closing time creeps up on you. you do all of your closing duties and grab your things from the back. you close the security shutters, looking behind you quickly to see that the man is doing the same. he notices your gaze, so you kindly wave at him. instead of a wave back, blush forms on his face with a shy smile. and with that, he walks away.
the interaction was unreadable. he seemed to be so extroverted with customers, having no issue having casual conversations with them. why is he getting all shy now?
you started to pick up on the new routine at the comic book store. from what you could tell, the man worked similar hours to you, often opening and closing too. he rarely worked with anyone else, so the majority of the time you glanced over, he was reading comics, manga, or doodling in his notepad.
you never really got into comic books like that, and only dabbled with reading manga, but the growing interest in this man made you curious about learning more on what he was reading. maybe it wouldn’t hurt to check out the selection? perhaps get some recommendations? you just finished a short shift today so now was the perfect opportunity.
after grabbing your things and saying goodbye to your coworker, you make your way over to the comic book store. you approach the man, who’s sitting at the register as usual, reading. you see his name tag on his chest; a cute red pin with a spider-man drawing next to his name, “mark.”
“hi,” you say, pulling his attention away from reading.
“oh, hi,” he says, placing his comic down. “sorry, i didn’t see you come in.”
“it’s okay,” you reply, looking around at the goodies at the register. “i was wondering if you have any recommendations for a beginner at reading comics?”
“oh for sure,” he says, eyes lighting up. “marvel has tons of great ones. you could start with an ironman one, or maybe captain america? i personally like spider-man, but i’m definitely biased.”
“i’ll try spider-man,” you say after a beat.
mark gives you a nod with a warm smile before leaving the register to grab your comic. he searches through the spider-man section until he finds the first issue. he returns to the register, ringing you up.
“i think you’ll like it, it’s really good,” mark says, handing your receipt to you.
“i’m definitely looking forward to see what all the hype is about,” you chuckle. the conversation pauses for moment, clearly indicating that the interaction is pretty much over with. but you don’t want the conversation to end there, so you find something to keep talking about. “you’re new here, aren’t you? like you just started working here?”
“yeah, sort of,” he says, sitting back in his seat at the register. “i used to work here a while ago and i just came back ‘cause they needed someone.”
“oh nice,” you reply. “welcome back i guess?”
“haha, i guess,” he smiles, rubbing his hand on his neck. “it’s chill here, but it gets kinda boring.”
“tell me about it,” you chuckle. “it’s so slow during the week. i usually have nothing to do.”
“yeah, i just read or draw to pass the time,” mark says, pointing at his notepad on the counter.
“you like to draw?” you ask, curious.
“yeah,” he places a hand on the notepad, grabbing it. you can tell he’s getting shy again. “it’s just doodles.”
“you’ll have to show me some of those ‘doodles’ sometime,” you say with a sweet smile. you check your phone for the time. it’s getting closer to dinnertime and you’re starved. “i guess i’ll get out of here.”
“okay,” he stands again. “well, let me know what you think of the comic.”
“i will,” you say, turning to leave, then flipping back to look at him. “mark, right?”
he nods, asking for your name as well. he beams at you. “it’s nice to meet you. see you tomorrow?”
“see you tomorrow,” you say with a wave, walking out.
for the next week, you find yourself aching to talk to mark again. you read the comic he gave you, and it provided a little bit of insight into him… that he’s a bit of a nerd. definitely not a bad thing. it’s actually really endearing to you, knowing his life basically revolves around superheroes, free time and work alike. that he probably draws little comics in his notepad, and has sweet dreams about being superhuman. why is that so fucking cute?
you have a reason to talk to him again, of course: the next issue of spider-man. the problem is building up the courage again, which is ridiculous because he’s just a guy. a nerdy one at that, and you know that he would be putty in your hands if you really wanted him to be. but the longing you developed for him during those long hours of your shift, seeing him across the way, looking so cute in his round glasses… it’s making you nervous in a way that is difficult to explain.
you’ve been putting off going back to his store at this point. wouldn’t someone that wanted to get into superhero comics come back for the next edition? why aren’t you using your excuse to talk to him? not only that, but he even said he wanted you to come tell him what you thought of the comic. you’re just overthinking things.
you have another short shift one day, and decide today is the day. you gather your things and walk to the neighboring store, feeling the familiar butterflies you felt the first time you approached mark at the register. he’s drawing this time, crouched down and focused. he hears you walk in, lifting his head to meet your eyes. maybe you’re crazy, but it looks like his eyes light up.
“hey,” he says, closing the notepad in front of him. you present the spider-man comic to him, and he flashes a smile at you. “what’d you think?”
you chuckle, holding the comic close to your chest. ��it was good, but too short. there’s another issue, right?” you joke, hoping it lands.
he lets out a giggle, “yeah, there definitely is. i’ll grab the next one for you.”
he walks over to a section near the front of the store, flipping through the excess of papers before he finds the 2nd issue. “if you liked that one, you’ll like this one even more.” he returns to the register with the issue, placing it on the counter for you.
“duel to the death with the vulture?” you read from the page. “i haven’t seen any of the movies recently so correct me if i’m wrong, but i don’t remember there being a vulture.”
“oh yeah, he’s in one of the later movies actually,” mark starts. “but you got a long way to go til you finally meet one of the iconic villians like the green goblin, or even the love interests gwen stacy or mary jane. it’ll be so worth the wait though.”
“how much do i owe you?” you ask, already pulling out your wallet.
“you can borrow it if you want,” he says.
“but this one belongs to the store, won’t you get in trouble?” you ask.
“just bring it back and it’s like it never happened,” he whispers, faking a shhh at you. “let’s just say it’s mall employee perk.”
you smile and accept it.
your new routine feels like a nice change of pace. every second of every day used to drag by, and yet at the same time, when you got home, everything that happened was so unbelievably boring that it all felt like a blur. nothing really significant happened to you. but something about trying something new, learning about a brand new niche interest, and even developing a crush… it’s finally something exciting.
you looked forward to the next time you got a new issue. not just that, but the next time you got to talk to mark. he has this charm about him that piqued your interest. it feels so easy to talk to him, as if you’ve already known each other for a long time and it isn’t just a budding friendship. you’d find yourself stopping by the comic book store a few times a week, anticipating the next comic and the underlying tension between you and mark.
like today, when you finally got off of work after a long shift. you were able to close up shop quickly and now you’re walking over to the comic book store, attempting to run in before mark locked up.
“hey, is it cool if i get the next issue real quick?” you ask, popping your head in the store.
“yeah, one sec,” he says, looking up from counting the cash in the register. “lemme just finish closing up the register.”
“are you implying that you’re gonna let me borrow another comic?” you ask, a flirty tone floating beneath.
“well of course,” he says, swiftly closing the cash drawer. “unless you want to start collecting, which by the way, SUPER expensive.”
“i think i’ll stick to being a casual reader for now,” you joke, approaching mark at the register.
“i don’t know, you might change your mind after this one,” he says, grabbing a comic from his bag. he holds it out to you, you grabbing it with your fingers briefly brushing past his. the motion makes you feel a little dizzy, and you can feel heat rising to your cheeks.
you shake your head, realizing this one doesn’t belong to the store. “wait, is this your own personal comic?”
“yeah, it’s one of my favorites,” he says, half focusing as he’s writing something on a sticky note at the counter. “i brought it in so you can borrow it.” you can see the corner of his mouth turning up, as if he’s trying to hold back a smile.
“you didn’t have to do that—”
“i wanted to,” he says, lifting his head up to hand you the sticky note he was writing on. “just treat it with care.”
you take the note, which is pale blue with a cartoon spider-man in the corner. in the middle of the note is a scrawled out phone number. you look up to see mark rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
“if you want to tell me what you think?” he says, almost like a question.
“or maybe when i get bored during my shift?” you ask, chuckling.
“i’d like that a lot actually,” he smiles, his previous nervousness quickly washing away.
“you’ll regret it though,” you say, sticking the note on the front page of the comic. “because i get bored here a lot.”
“don’t worry,” mark laughs, shaking his head. “i don’t think i’ll get sick of you anytime soon.”
you finally reached issue #14 of spider-man, the one mark is lending to you. you grab it out of your bag at the beginning of your shift, sitting back in your chair behind the register and getting comfortable. you realize what it’s about and immediately text mark.
sent 10:17 am omg wait i didn’t realize this issue is the first appearance of the green goblin
you look across the way, seeing mark pick up his phone and smiling.
sent 10:18 am mark: oh yeah, he’s fuckin sick mark: you’re gonna love it
you click your phone off with a soft sigh, flipping back to your comic. you go about your shift switching from helping customers and checking them out, and reading. every once and a while, you’ll message mark with your comments and he would always reply with enthusiasm.
the end of your shift approaches quickly, and soon enough you’re closing the security shutters. you look behind you to see mark locking the doors and then doing the same. he must’ve felt your eyes on him, because he turns and flashes his famous smile to you. you walk over to him with the comic in hand.
“you were right,” you say, handing it him. “green goblin is super sick.”
“i told you,” he says, reaching for it, and your hands momentarily touching like last time. he gets flustered. “uh, i can give you the next one tomorrow if you’re working.”
“i am, yeah,” you reply, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “i am so curious though—when the hell does gwen stacy show up?”
“oh,” he giggles to himself. “you’re like, halfway there to finally seeing her.”
“i didn’t realize how extensive this series is,” you chuckle. “not that i’m complaining. i’m actually surprised by how much i like it.”
“i’m glad,” he says sweetly. “well, just come by tomorrow and i’ll give you the next issue.”
“i will.”
the following weeks, you became overtaken by superhero comics and stupid-fucking-adorable mark. you would read an issue of spider-man at work, and text mark with your reactions to certain scenes. at first you thought it might be annoying to him, but he actually seemed to encourage it, asking for your opinions on the characters and storyline.
it doesn’t help that every time you see mark, you get butterflies in your stomach. and it seemed to only be getting worse; you keep finding yourself smiling when his name pops up on your phone. you wake up excited to go to work, because you know you’ll probably have another interaction with him. sometimes, mark would even catch you staring at him and give a little nod with a smile. but what made things exponentially worse was when you catch him gazing at you too, catching you off guard but making a smile spread across your lips. you are smitten, and if anyone else was concerned, mark is probably smitten too. the issue is getting him to finally take the hint and making a real move on you.
he may get a little flustered around you, but he’s not exactly shy. after all, he did give you his number unprompted. but after weeks of going back and forth strictly talking about comics and work, you started to lose hope. you just want him. he must want you back just as bad.
after another closing shift, you watch the mall-goers pass by and file out of the building. the mall is basically empty now, most of the neighboring stores already closed and employees leaving for the day. you had to stay a little bit late, cleaning up a huge mess in the store from some rude customers. you thought you would have time to stop by to see mark, but with the amount of things you have to put away, your chances are looking slim.
you shuffle around the store, placing items back on the shelves and organizing the tables of merchandise. you eyes shift over to the comic book store, expecting to see it dark and locked up. but it isn’t; mark is still in there, half the lights still on, with him unboxing comics from their latest shipment. you already knew it was restock day for them (god you have way too much free time), but you didn’t realize how many boxes they got in.
you open the front door of your store, whisper-yelling through the security shutters. “mark!”
mark’s head turns to look at you and flashes a grin at you. “yo, you’re still here too?”
you nod, leaning on the glass door. you hold up a few of the displaced items in your hands. “go-backs,” you shrug.
he points at the pile of boxes in front of him, “restock. we got a lot of shit in early for christmas.”
“don’t say christmas please, i don’t want to think about it yet,” you say with a laugh.
you turn away to get back to work, putting all the merchandise back to their assigned spots. you don’t know what the hell got into people today; messing up all your organization you’ve done and putting things in all the wrong places. it didn’t help that you had to deal with some assholes with returns today too. you always theorize it’s from a full moon or mercury retrograde or something; those things must be the reason people start acting up.
after about an hour of cleaning, you finish up and can finally call it a day. you close up shop and turn to see mark still working on stocking at his store. you approach the security gate of the store, with its front door still propped open.
“i still need my next issue by the way,” you say to mark, who stands from his crouching position in front of an open box. he walks up to the gate and pushes it up, just enough for you to come through. you look hesitant.
“come in, it’s okay,” he says, motioning you in. you duck under the security gate, slipping into the store. “how was your day? looks like you had a lot to do.”
“yeah, the store was a mess,” you say, following him to the register. “i’ve never had to stay so late after close.”
“it’s only gonna get worse the closer it gets to christmas,” mark says while weaving around the boxes with you.
“what did i say about christmas?” you joke, nudging his shoulder softly.
“sorry, sorry,” he laugh, putting his hands up. you wait patiently for him as he kneels behind the register, looking for your comic. he pops back up with a stumped look on his face. “i swear i thought i put it up here to give to you but i can’t find it. i’m gonna go check the back.”
he starts walking to the back room, and looks back at you. “feel free to sit if you want. our stockroom is a wreck, this might take a sec.”
you nod to him, squeezing past the tower of boxes to sit in the chair at the register. it feels kinda funny to sit back here, like you’re seeing the store from a different perspective, from mark’s perspective. you look around behind the counter, seeing the little notes and cute super-hero knick knacks gathered around.
there’s a mini batman funko pop positioned in the corner, with a sticky note placed under his feet reading “no drinks at the register.” you look over to see a large iced coffee with mark’s name in sharpie. well, we all bend the rules a bit. his name tag is placed on the counter by a stack of comics. you grab it to take a closer look. it’s a plastic red pin with a white pop-art bubble. in the corner is a small piece of paper stuck on it, attached with office tape. on the paper is a spider-man doodle, made with red and blue marker and pen ink.
you’re sure this must’ve been drawn by mark. you have yet to see any of his drawings (despite your prying), so maybe seeing this one up close will give you a sneak peek into his style. it’s a little messy, with scratchy lines and colors bleeding outside the borders. despite that, it has a distinct style that you’re fond of. it’s not perfect, let alone does it look like the super-heroes you’ve been reading in your comics. but it has a quality to it that feels less polished and flat. it has character. the messiness makes it feel more… real.
you set his name tag down, placing it back next to the large stack of comics. these must be his go-backs. he’s been so wrapped up with his shipment he probably hasn’t had time to put them away. you think maybe it would be nice to help a bit. he’s been nice enough to let you borrow comics from the store, and you’re just waiting around after all.
you pick up the stack of comics, situating them into your arms, when you look down and see that under the stack is mark’s notepad. it’s not closed like you’re used to seeing it, opened to a clean white page with a drawing covering up a majority of it. it’s in a comic book style, you’re not surprised. but it has the same quality that his name tag doodle does; scrawly and messy, with no real precise lines. the colors are splashed across the page, with blotches of scribbled colored marker decorating it. then realize what it is—who it is.
it’s you.
the whole image captures you and a little bit of your surroundings. positioned at your normal spot at the register, you’re looking down at a comic with your fingers playing with the ends of your hair. but it has a dream-like feel to it, with the pages of the comic illuminating your face as if a source of power is emanating from it. and then the best part: the wings. placed behind your shoulders are pair of feathered wings, outstretched in a sketched black ink. it’s beautiful.
it’s beautiful and it’s you. mark drew you.
“yo, sorry that took so long,” mark says while emerging from the back, eyes still focused on the comic in his hands. “i finally found it, but dude i had to do some digging—”
mark’s words are cut short when he notices you holding his notepad, comics that were placed atop abandoned on the counter by you. he visibly gulps.
“mark…” you start, not moving your eyes from the drawing. “what’s this?” without a response for a few moments, you tear your eyes away to see mark with blush on his cheeks, mouth open but unable to let any words out. “did you… did you draw me?”
“look, it gets really slow during the day, i just did a little sketch to pass time—”
“mark, this isn’t just a sketch,” you say, looking back down at the notepad. “this is amazing.”
“y-you like it?” mark says, hand rubbing the back of his neck.
“of course i like it,” you say.
“you don’t think it’s weird that i drew you without telling you?” mark asks, nervousness radiating from him.
“i don’t think it’s weird at all,” you say. “i actually love it. i like that you drew me as a superhero too, and one with wings at that.”
mark stays quiet, looking at his feet and probably overthinking everything right now. you look back up at him, tension building in your stomach as you ask what you already know the answer to. “you like me, don’t you?”
mark lifts his head to meet your eyes. he bites his lip anxiously as he nods slowly.
a streak of courage overtakes you as you grab his arm to pull him closer, him tripping over his own feet and crashing into your chest. you’re leaned against the counter, with mark’s arm behind you and hand placed flat on the surface. your faces are close, and you can feel his breath. his eyes are glued onto your lips, and he swallows thickly.
“mark, just kiss me,” you mumble, aching for him.
he wastes no time, leaning in to slot his lips between yours. he snakes an arm around your waist, holding you as close as he can. you melt into him, goosebumps floating across your skin in all-consuming desire. you move your hand to hold his cheek, thumb swiping on his smooth skin and fingers tangled in his soft, messy hair.
he pulls away, breath still shaky. “i’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long…” he trails off before leaning in and kissing you again, this time with more passion. he swipes his tongue between your lips, with you willingly accepting him. his hands trail up and down your sides, then finally places a firm grip on your waist and lifting you to sit on the counter. he slots between your legs, his body pressed close to yours. your fingers card through his hair, earning a sweet hum from him.
his hands trail down to your ass, pushing you closer against him to where you feel the bulge forming in his jeans. he can’t even hold back his moan, it being muffled by your lips. he pulls away again, this time kissing from your cheek down to your neck. he sucks at the expanse of skin while he caresses the other side of your throat. you let out a soft hum in pleasure, savoring every bite and lick—
“fuck, you sound so hot too,” he says in between kisses. he moves a hand down to your breast, kneading it roughly. you throw your head back, soaking in the pleasure from just his hands alone. his beautiful fucking hands, the ones that drew you. his lips feel so good on you, but his hands feel even better. it’s as if he’s been waiting for this moment for eternity and he doesn’t want to let you go. almost as if holding you, touching you is the only thing keeping him grounded in reality. it doesn’t feel real to you either; that mark, the cute boy you’ve had a crush on for weeks and weeks is kissing you, holding you, and yearning for you all the same.
you feel so wrapped up in the moment that you almost forget that you’re in public. sure, there’s no one left in the mall and the only people left are probably mall security, but the risk of being seen is still there. it just feels too good to stop.
“mark,” you say, giving in to the anxiety. “are we really doing this? right here, right now?”
he pulls back to look at you, still holding you close. “it’s just us here, and if it’s okay with you, i don’t think i can wait any longer.”
“i don’t think i can either,” you respond.
suddenly mark is ripping your clothes off, all while pulling you both behind one of the comic display cases. it’s your turn to take his clothes off, and you’re yanking his jacket off and pulling up his graphic tee and discarding them both on the floor. the exchange is a jumbled mess of constant touching of skin and clothes flying in every direction, a true testament to how desperate you both want each other. he’s kissing you all the while, taking every opportunity to peck at you between the tugging of clothes.
he leans you against the display bookshelf full of comics, completely unbothered when an issue or two falls off. your hand travels down into this jeans, feeling him hard and pulsing against your palm. you stroke his length slowly, focusing most of the stimulation on his dripping head. he lifts one of your legs slightly to get better access to you under your skirt, then looks at you as if he’s asking for permission.
you nod your head profusely before leaning in to kiss him deeply. it doesn’t last long, because suddenly he’s pushing inside you and you’re gasping at the stretch—
“you’re so—fuck—so fucking tight,” he hisses, attempting to push in as slowly as he can. your mouth is fully agape in bliss as he finally bottoms out, reaching deep inside of you. he catches your eyes, lust filled in his own as he slowly starts to move.
he’s slow at first, knowing that his size is stretching you out to the point where it’s nearly painful. but it feels so fucking good, his cock dragging in and out of your tight walls. you can tell he wants to pick up the pace, with his breath shuddering with each stroke. you take the opportunity to kiss him again, wanting to taste his soft lips as he gradually begins to pound into you.
he’s groaning against your lips, and your moans are muffled against his. you’re trying to salvage any sort of public decency by holding back your sounds the best you can. it’s when he grabs your legs and lifts you to press you against the display shelf that you realize that that shred of awareness of your surroundings is about to be long fucking gone.
he’s holding you up by gripping your ass, pistoning into you at a pace that you can only describe as brutal. it’s no use trying to stifle your moans anymore, with him hitting your cervix over and over and making you see stars at each stroke—
“mark, it feels so fucking good,” you can only whine out to him, wrapping your arms around his neck tighter, tugging at his hair—
“you feel so fucking good, jesus,” he groans against your neck, heaving breaths tickling at your throat.
his pace is wild, but the force in which he’s pounding into you begins to cause the comic books around you to tumble off the shelves, creating a pile at mark’s feet. he doesn’t seem to care though. that is, until a comic book falls from a shelf above you and hits him on the head.
“ah!” he exclaims, realizing what happened. he stops his movements to look at you, holding back a smile.
you can’t hold back your laugh, giggling profusely at the ridiculousness of the situation. he laughs too, shaking his head and letting out a sigh.
“this is crazy,” he says, resting his forehead on yours.
“i know,” you reply, still giggling. with one last laugh, he leans in and kisses you tenderly, smile still formed on his lips. you melt into him, ruffling your fingers through his hair as he begins to pick back up the roll of his hips into you.
it feels like a sweet moment, the fact that you can be doing such a scandalous act and still giggle with him. the tenderness doesn’t last for long, however, when he hits that perfect spot inside you that forces you to release a sharp moan.
“mark, oh my god,” you whimper, attempting to roll your hips down onto him. “keep doing that, please—”
“fuuuck,” he groans, feeling your core clenching around his length. “you take me so well, baby.”
all you can do now is nod, whimpering and whining on him. you can’t believe that this man that has always been so endearing, so kind and lovable has this completely different side to him that you’re only now getting to experience. it brings a different sort of intrigue to him; that he’s more than just a cute boy that works at a mall. he’s complex. he’s a fucking man. he’s a fucking. sex. god.
his breathing starts to become irregular, and his pace is back to merciless. his groans, fuck, his moaning. he’s bouncing you on his cock in the perfect way to where your moans are matching his. you can feel his dick pulsing inside you—
“i’m gonna cum,” he can only breathe out, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “can i?”
“yes mark, please,” you whine, tugging at the ends of his hair. all the while you’re clenching around his cock, bringing him closer and closer to his release.
with a low groan, his hips stutter and you feel his seed spilling into you, completely filling you up. the rocking of his hips stall, and he’s finally letting you down and kissing you sweetly, caressing your cheek with his hand.
“god, you are fucking perfect,” he whispers to you. you let out a giggle, leaning your forehead against his. “hey, i’m not done with you yet.”
he quickly moves you to the glass display counter, lifting you to sit you on it. he pushes your thighs open, lifting your skirt up to get a better look at you. he looks enamored, like he’s starving and the only thing to appease his hunger is by having you on his mouth.
he dives in, licking a stripe up your core with a groan. he repeats this action, as if he’s savoring every drop of your essence mixed with his release that’s slowly dripping out of you—
“so fucking hot,” he hums, releasing a hand from your thigh to tease at your entrance.
“mark, please,” you beg. “stop teasing—”
he attaches his mouth to your clit, swirling his tongue around in smooth, controlled circles. your hands fly to his head, body already twitching from stimulation. his finger is still prodding at your hole, wanting to enter but not just yet. he instead continues to ravage at your sensitive bud, intentional movements making your head spin. he knows what he’s doing and he knows he’s good, especially with the shaking of your thighs and high pitched moans escaping your lips egging him on.
he looks up at you, flattening his tongue out and doing long, drawn out licks. the eye contact is insane, the lust filled in them only making it that much hotter. he’s enjoying every second of this, seeing you shake and begging him to keep going. he loves the taste of you too, so sweet and almost addictive. he could die like this.
his teasing finger finally starts to deepen inside you, slowly at first. he can feel every pulse of your core around his finger, and it’s so hot that he can feel himself getting hard again. and you’re so wet, oh my god, so fucking wet. your arousal is dripping down his chin and his hand, making a sticky mess. when you start to roll your hips onto his face, he swears he’s in heaven.
he inserts another finger, feeling that tightness grip around them. it’s only getting more erratic now, clenching around him with each grind of your hips. he curls his fingers to prod at that sensitive spot, causing you to moan out his name—
“mark, don’t stop,” you whine, looking down at him basically making out with your pussy.
he continues the same movements, repeatedly hitting your g spot and swirling his dripping tongue on your clit. your back arches and legs unintentionally close around his head, making him push them back open with his free hand.
and then he starts humming against you. the vibrations send a shock wave through your body, that mixed with his fingers, his tongue, his hand gripping tightly against your thigh… it feels so intense and so so good. you cum on his tongue, with him desperately holding your hips down and he helps you ride out your high. he doesn’t stop until you’re shaking, and you have to grab his head and lift it.
“oh my god,” you gasp, slowly coming down.
he smirks up at you with arousal-coated lips. “yeah, oh my god.” he stands up, immediately going to kiss you and you accepting him, wrapping your arms around him. he pulls away and leans his head against yours.
“i can’t believe we just did that,” he says, sighing out an exasperated laugh.
“i know, what the fuck, right?” you giggle.
“are you- are you doing anything right now?” he asks. “like, do you wanna get food or something?”
“are you asking me on a date?” you ask teasingly.
“don’t tell me you decided you’re creeped out by the drawing now,” he laughs.
“yeah. suuuper creeped out,” you joke, leaning in for another kiss. you hear a noise behind you, and look out through the security shutters to see a mall security guard passing by, scrolling through his phone.
“looks like he just missed the show,” mark says, causing you both to try and hold back your fit of giggles.
a/n: thank u guys for reading! i rly enjoyed this one hehe :-) please leave feedback as i'm new to writing, and reblog to support me! it motivates me to write more!
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