#frank talk to plant

[earlycuntsets]

02/15/2008 vivo rio rio de janeiro brazil meet with fans

[jamjoob]

Pam doodles from last yr

[forgrtashes-blog]

Hello ;)

I was wondering if maybe you could show us some sketches of Stanley (The Green One… Hehe)

He seems like a handsome and charming boy to me! I think I like him because he gives me Wally vibes @:)

PS:Sorry if there are any mistakes in my English. I literally went into the translator and copied this.

Of course! More Stanley art on the way!

Ngl, drawing this charming globetrotter is not an easy task but I certainly love it... Anyway! Most of these are works that I'll probably never finish, but I still want to draw a comic or at least a sketch of him interacting with the other neighbors. It would be so fun.

[fadedrainbowbookshelves]

Day off gardening with the husband.

[mrgladstonegander]

[wakes up in a sweat remembering these] should i 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥 myself today

[rhaeheartzsquirrelz]

Thinking about Sevika with a reader she thought was a bit on the innocent side finding out reader has her nipples pierced 🫠

Ok why have I never thought of this before? I love this request 🤫

Heaven Sent

Sevika x Female Reader

Cw: Hyper fem bartender! reader (the bartender part has little to no impact on the plot?). Sex: thigh riding, nipple play, biting.

On my soul if a man interacts. I will actually wage war.

Proofread || Note: I AM SOOO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE, guys I’ve been so flipping busy it’s not even a joke anymore.

She thought you were an angel sent just for her. Walking around with a sense of femininity that reeled everyone in. It was the change in tone you directed at her; she thought you were into her. Mainly because you seemed to show the same interest back, as friends or not she thought of it as a win.

One thing that stuck to her was how “innocent” you looked. Even working at a bar— The Last Drop— you looked as if you’d never touched an inch if intimacy before. Sevika wasn’t fully understanding of why she thought of you in that way, but she did. To be frank, it was a turn on.

In the back of her mind, she liked thinking about ruining you. About feeling the skin you had hid underneath your delicate clothing. About showing you what else there was to life. About giving you pleasure; until you couldn’t handle it anymore.

Eventually, she came around to talking to you. Having friendly conversations and making you laugh with her dad jokes. The woman always found your laugh.. lively, adorable, the way your nose would scrunch and you’d hide your face. It made her feel a sense of pride, knowing she could make someone like you smile.

But, the thing she was completely unaware of was that you weren’t the sweet, heaven sent angel she thought of you as. There was much more under your layered top that would have her jaw drop, and you wanted to see it for yourself.

You both knew there was something much deeper than a friendship, and on a slow night at The Last Drop, that tension was able to break.

You grab your purse, throw it over your shoulder, and walk towards the door. Sevika was busy with poker, winning every damn round and pissing off the men that surrounded the small table. But, as her eyes laid on you walking towards the exit, she surrendered to the men and decided to walk you home. It was the least a “friend” could do, right?

Wrong.

She ended up crashing her lips against yours and pinning you against your fluffy, cool sheets, flesh hand gripping your arch as she had you flush against her chest. You didn’t know how you ended up where you were now, but in all honesty you didn’t seem to give a shit. You’d had a huge crush on the woman atop of you for months, and finally having her touch you was the direction you’d been aiming for— and you got it.

Sevika’s dark lips planted kisses down your neck, marking your shoulders with hickeys. Just to let everyone know the pretty thing underneath her was.. well, her’s. Your palms were sweaty, heart was racing, and your face felt hot. Don’t get yourself started on your needy little cunt. There wasn’t anything convincing you to stop, everything was just perfect. The way she handled you, placing you on her lap. You were convinced you’d get laid, and it turned out that that was exactly what happened.

Without an utter, Sevika stripped you of your clothes. Bra bra and panties the only things left, causing her grey eyes to roam over your figure. With you straddling her, the woman was sure to lose control at any given moment. Which, made the situation further more intimate— thrilling. In a way.

She used her mech arm to steady herself, and that was it’s only purpose for she wouldn’t let it anywhere near you. With her flesh hand pressed against the small of your back, she pulled you closer. Chest against chest, you were sure she’d feel your piercing against her. But, no, she didn’t seem to. Too caught up in the moment? You thought so. A laced bra covering the metal that pierced through your skin, you let her kiss down to it, her fingers fiddled with the latch as she tried taking it off. The woman was struggling.

“Can’t do it?” Your voice hummed through her, and she scoffed. “Surprised you can’t take off a bra, Sev,” you teased, she gave you an eye roll in response before tossing your bra aside. “I’m not an—“ her silver eyes landed on your chest and she barely stopped her jaw from dropping. Her attention was fixated on the metal that pierced through your hardened nipples, the sight of it making her mouth, noticeable, run dry. Sevika was silent for a moment, and that moment felt like an eternity. She just stared, absolutely mesmerized by the sight. “What?” Your voice broke through the silence and she smugly chuckled, lips curled into a smirk afterwards. “Y’didn’t tell me about these,” her thumb pressed against your bud as she felt around; causing you to bite back a moan. “You never asked?” Was what she got in return, it was meant to be a tease but only ended up slipping out as a sigh.

“What’s next? You got your kitty pierced?” Her teeth sunk into your shoulder as she pressed your cunt against her front, mech arm gripping onto your thigh. Sevika wasn’t planning on using her prosthetic, but now having realized you weren’t as innocent she had thought, she wouldn’t hold back. Maybe even break you. “No, actually. I.. I don’t,” her flesh fingers gave your nipples a pinch. And, for a second, it felt like everything had begun to spin. You were uneasy in the best way possible.

Her taller figure leaned down against you as she kissed her way down to your chest, each peck hot and breathy until she wrapped her dark lips around you. Your eyes watched her as she ran her tongue over your nipples, licking the metal all the while gently sucking. Your body, from head to toe, was heated. On fire from her heavenly touch, even the way she pressed against you. You’d never been so close to the woman, only ever been given a tap or a shove. Nothing like this, and, boy, was it good.

“Does it hurt?” Eyes fixated on your right tit as her flesh hand kneaded your left. You shake your head at her question, barely able to keep yourself from loosing control. The woman, on the other hand, was enjoying having you in her mouth, just feeling all over your bud was enough to arouse herself. With a swift, steady movement, Sevika pressed her thigh against you; your cunt, more specifically. She let you rub your heat and work for your own orgasm. The woman even guided you, hand gripping your ass as she helped your hips rock. “Y’ever done this?”

“Have I ever.. done this?” You echoed, trying to wrap your mind around the question all the while trying to focus on the friction between your thighs. Both tasks left you hazy innthe head. This,” she gently bit down on your nipple; which you breathlessly moaned at. “I.. I guess?” You weren’t up to Sevika’s level, who had seen countless pussy with her fourty years of experience. The woman knew her shit, making you spread wider all the while attacking your bare skin. She seemed to be a beast in bed, biting onto your neck and leaving marks, even bruising your shoulder as a result of your pretty little noises. She enjoyed them deeply, even smirking proudly everytime she heard them escape.

Almost everything she did had you in a trance; her humm of approval against your neck, her grip on your ass, her breath tickling your sensitive skin, even her silver eyes; that were focused on you. She watched as your jaw dropped, lips parted, and eyes become lidded. Every bit of your reaction had her in a chokehold, especially knowing that the girl she once saw as an angel was now straddling her thigh, moaning in her ear, was as wet as water, and was rocking rubbing against her. It was something she found too attractive to not comment on, “pretty girl enjoying herself?” She murmured, knowing full well you were. “Mm-hm, I am, Sev, I am,” nonetheless your answer made her feel fuzzy— though she hid that from you, hid the fact that you made her all mushy, all soft.

You continued your grind against Sevika, rubbing back and fourth until you felt your orgasm pooling. Her every touch, brush, made every hair on your body stand. Every kiss, suck, bite, and grip left you with a clouded feeling. The release would be too good, you practically craved it. Growing desperate and needy, you rub harder. Your clit pulsed for more, a finger up your cunt possibly. “Uh-huh, look a’you. Such a cute little thing.” The woman purred, pressing her dark lips against yours. They held a sense of tenderness, too soft to be rough but too strong to be gentle. Even when her tongue ran over your bottom lip, it was as if she didn’t know how much you wanted. How much you could handle, even.

But, when your sweet, much needed orgasm finally hit, it was like every fiber in you screamed for the woman giving you pleasure. You clung to her; hands gripping her dark hair, face burried and nuzzling into her, and your hips lightly shuddering against hers. She’d gladly help you ride out your high. She wrapped her flesh arm around your waist as her mech helped the two of you keep balance, she pushed you to rock further until she was certain you were finished.

Heavily breathing and deeply satisfied, you kept close. Sevika, feeling the need to show affection, shifted the two of you on your sides. Her mech over your waist, flesh under your head, the woman kept you warm and comfortable. Never forgetting to pepper that precious face of yours with kisses, the type of kisses that get your heart to skip a beat. “You can ride.” She teased, entangling her fingers with your hair and brushing through. Carefull to not tug, pull. “I could do more than.. that.” Was your smug reply.

“More? ‘Least catch your breath, doll. I bet I could have you knocked out in a few.”

“Oh? Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

And thwn yo gust get married and have 8 kids.

[flonkertainment]

Then you push all my curtains to the side!

Alright, the Pickerwheel (of Fortune) has decided: President Joyful it is! First things first: What made me choose the fool for Julie? The Fool is someone who is daring and carefree, and (quite literally for Julie) joyfully and free-spirited walking into the world. And Julie is the most free-spirited, playful neighbor there is! Julie can also be seen as sometimes a bit reckless and risk-taking, which embodies the upside-down fool. Also do you notice that she is standing on Howdy's Roof? Just as when she and Frank talked about one of her games where she got stuck there! The plants and the yellow ground she seems to be standing one are the same as on Howdy's Store :)

Again, my usual disclaimer: I am not experienced with the usage of tarot cards, so please don't expect me to know more than their basic meaning. Also, if you think that I should've chosen a different card for Julie, don't come at me, I just picked what I thought fit best!

[pumpkinbxtch]

— 𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗼𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗯𝗶𝗮?｡⁠:ﾟ headcanons

are the HoO boys afraid of falling in love with you? (ft. apollo)

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☆ radiostar is playing… warrior by aurora!

who's here: percy jackson, leo valdez, frank zhang, jason grace & apollo. warnings: none, philophobia is the fear of falling in love. a/n: This is super based on their profiles according to the books, because well, let's talk honestly to others, I decided to do this, it's interesting.

percy jackson;

Percy isn’t afraid of loving or being loved. His mom raised him with a lot of affection. But, he does get scared of not being loved back or not being good enough for you. This is because of his obvious self-esteem issues. Doubting love is the only thing that makes him rethink and overthink things. So, sometimes you have to talk to him when you see he's down about something he doesn’t want to tell you. But he never hesitated when he fell for you and wanted you to know as soon as he realized it.

leo valdez;

Yes. The answer is yes, he is scared of falling in love. But he doesn’t realize it until he’s totally in love with you, and it’s too late for those feelings to stop growing. Leo isn’t fully aware of it because he likes having girls around, but it never goes beyond the surface until it did with you. He realized that imagining a future with someone isn’t something to take lightly. Is there something he can’t fix with his magical pockets?

Leo spent most of his life running away and being from nowhere, so he ends up with an avoidant attachment style. He’s working on this now to open up more with you because at the beginning of the relationship, it seemed like he was running away from you. In reality, he’s full of love to give and wants to receive it too.

frank zhang;

He’s never scared of falling in love or feeling something as genuine as that. He’s a son of Mars, who’s associated with passion, so Frank has never had to face love head-on. The only problem might be feeling like he’s too much or too annoying because he would die for you and kill an entire nation to be with you. Frank is careful when he realizes he likes you or is falling in love because he knows some things just can’t be, but he never hides his feelings. He’ll tell you he loves you and respects if it’s not mutual. He almost explodes with happiness knowing it’s mutual.

jason grace;

Jason isn’t great at showing his feelings. It constantly overwhelms him and keeps him up at night, trying to solve it like a math equation when it’s the complete opposite. He’s supposed to be the voice of reason, or at least that’s what he’s thought all this time. But when you get close to him, his gears go crazy, spark, and break down. Is he scared of falling in love? Not exactly, but he’s afraid of not expressing it properly because he knows how important communication is. After getting to know you better, he realizes it’s better to go with the flow, which isn’t easy for him, but he finally has an answer. He was born to love and wants to be loved.

apollo;

Yes, yes, yes, yes. All his exes ended up as plants or dead. How could he not develop a fear related to love after that keeps happening? So it’s a nightmare when you come into his life because, unfortunately for him, he’s a hopeless romantic. There’s nothing more ironic than that. He tries to avoid it at all costs, but in the blink of an eye, he’s holding you tight and kissing you with a goofy expression on his face. Even though he’s so scared, his longing to find the one outweighs it...

[365filmsbyauroranocte]

My Top 25 First Time Watches of 2024!

1. Love Streams (John Cassavetes, 1984) 2. Série noire (Alain Corneau, 1979) 3. Christine (Alan Clarke, 1987) 4. La morte vivante (Jean Rollin, 1982) 5. The Long Goodbye (Robert Altman, 1973) 6. Les Nuits de la pleine lune (Éric Rohmer, 1984) 7. Quatre nuits d'un rêveur (Robert Bresson, 1971) 8. La prima notte di quiete (Valerio Zurlini, 1972) 9. Céline (Jean-Claude Brisseau, 1992) 10. Angel Dust (Sogo Ishii, 1994) 11. Duelle (Jacques Rivette, 1976) 12. Les chambres rouges (Pascal Plante, 2023) 13. You Can’t Take It with You (Frank Capra, 1938) 14. Smooth Talk (Joyce Chopra, 1985) 15. Lemora: A Child’s Tale of the Supernatural (Richard Blackburn, 1973) 16. The ’Burbs (Joe Dante, 1989) 17. Daisy Kenyon (Otto Preminger, 1947) 18. Road (Alan Clarke, 1987) 19. Drylongso (Cauleen Smith, 1998) 20. Once Upon a Time in the West (Sergio Leone, 1968) 21. Little Odessa (James Gray, 1994) 22. The Company of Strangers (Cynthia Scott, 1990) 23. The Black Tower (John Smith, 1987) 24. Ocaña (Ventura Pons, 1978) 25. Valerie and Her Week of Wonders (Jaromil Jireš, 1970)

(My list in Letterboxd -click here-)

Happy New Year!

[dollfacefantasy]

Heyyy doll! Could you possibly write about frank castle with a reader who is really into praise and stuff, but frankie starts to do like the degradation stuff in bed and she starts getting upset? sorry if this is confusing english isnt my first language!!

MISFIRE ♡

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: you and frank fit together like you were made for it. but sometimes even the two of you have miscommunications.

cw: nsfw (18+), p in v, praise/degradation, hurt/comfort-ish, age gap (reader in 20s)

a/n: no worries bb, thank you for the frank request <33

Usually, you and Frank were pretty good at reading each other. You seldom needed words to understand what the other was thinking, which was good for you since Frank didn't say more than a handful of sentences on his chatty days.

But most of the time, looking in his eyes was enough. You knew when he wanted you to take care of him but felt too proud to ask. You could tell when he'd rather you give him some space for the next hour. And the same went for you. One glance at you told him if you wanted to be babied or you just needed him to listen while you talk his ear off about people who annoyed you in your classes.

Like all couples though, you sometimes had your misfires. Times where one of you did something that accomplished nothing but pissing the other off. He learned pretty early on in the relationship that teasing you when you were on your period was off limits while you found out you shouldn't try to scare him as a joke unless you seriously wanted a gun shoved in your face.

They didn't happen too often, but he was now realizing that tonight was one of those instances.

He came home late from a pretty rough night. Bruises littered his body. Cuts, scrapes, and dried blood marked up his face. When he'd trudged through the entryway of your apartment, he was relieved to find you already fast asleep in bed. Had you been awake he could only imagine the worried look that would have taken over your features.

Instead, you remained fast asleep in your bed as he unlaced his boots and shed his clothes. He came over and planted a kiss against your temple before heading off to shower. The water washed away the remnants of the night speckled across him while the steam loosened up his muscles. He relaxed a bit, letting the adrenaline fade away and drain from his system just like the bloody stream of water was on the floor of your tub.

When he finished, he dried off, got dressed, went about the usual routine. He knew he should join you in the bed, but part of him still felt wound up. There was still the lingering anger that came with his nocturnal activities. The rage pricked at him even after the action was over, reminding him that it wasn't gone just because some of the people responsible were.

He tried swallowing it down, pretending it wasn't there so he could get some rest. But when he came back into the bedroom you had woken up. You were facing the bathroom door, your eyes sleepy and open only a crack. Just enough for him to tell you were watching him.

Looking back, he doesn't know what he was thinking. You were obviously gonna be too tired for anything more than some lazy thrusts and sloppy making out. But the version of him from twenty minutes ago hadn't put that together.

You made grabby hands at him, signaling you wanted him close. "Hi," your sleepy voice said before a yawn interrupted you.

"Hey, baby," he rumbled as he approached the edge of the mattress. The neediness radiating off of you had him half-hard already.

He crawled onto the bed, positioning himself over you before ducking down for some kisses. His lips were rough against yours, his movements much more demanding than they should have been. You let out a little noise of surprise, but it went ignored for the most part.

In all honesty, he thought you were ok with it. Your hands found his shoulders like they always did. They trailed down his biceps and squeezed the muscles. Your mouth met every kiss.

He tugged your top up to get at your panties. His fingers hooked beneath the waistband, tearing them away without a second thought. He didn't do much prep work for you. He swirled the rough pads of his fingers against your delicate little bud and figured that was all he needed. You never had a problem getting wet for him, and from the feel of it, that was still true tonight.

"You been missing me, huh?" he breathed against your mouth between kisses.

"I always do," you mumbled.

"That's my girl. Cute little pussy always ready for me to use," he said.

He should've known right then because normally a line like that would have had you rolling your hips up for more. But you didn't really respond this time around. Just pulled him into some more kisses.

He wasn't too interested in kissing though. Instead, he moved his mouth down to your neck. He nipped at the skin and scraped it with his teeth before trying to suck little marks onto the area. His hands shoved his boxers down to get at his already stiffening cock.

After giving it a few tugs, he yanked you closer and pushed your legs open nice and wide. He dragged the tip of his shaft through your slick a few times before sliding in, bottoming out in one go.

You whimpered at the stretch. You'd taken Frank so many times by this point, but he was thick. It took a little adjusting every go. He didn't really give you that tonight though.

He lowered his head to the crook of your neck and began fucking himself into your cunt. Your eyes fluttered, your breath hitching at the rough slaps of his pelvis against your thighs.

It still felt good. Every stroke brushed a pleasure spot inside you, causing you to squirm. Little whines slipped from your mouth into the darkness of the bedroom.

"That feel nice?" he grunted, slamming into you harder.

You sucked in a breath and nodded. His hand came up to cup your jaw. He squeezed it, digging his fingers into the flesh of your cheeks as a point of leverage.

It didn't hurt, but it kind of ached. The tight grip didn't cause sharp pain. You just felt like there would be a dull throb when he let go. Shaking your head a little bit, you tried to brush his fingers off, but he just jerked your head still before moving his mouth closer to your ear.

"Yeah, you just lay there and take it. Lemme do all the work like always. Fuck that slutty little pussy like she needs. Taking you for what you're good for," he muttered.

It was meaningless dirty talk, and you knew that. But something about tonight had you extra sensitive. Maybe it was the fact that you just woke up, maybe it was because you had a long day today. You just were starting to feel less good as the seconds ticked on.

"My little whore," he continued, "Takes it however I tell her to. Like a little doll for me."

He just kept thrusting harder and harder, chipping away at your will with each motion. You knew it wasn't like he was saying anything that bad. He'd said much worse before and got you off to it. It's just that when you're not in the mood for this kind of stuff, it hits in the wrong way. It feels uncomfortable and awkward, and the intense physicality of the experience exacerbates it.

Everything felt icky in the moment. Suddenly the way his head was slotted against your neck didn't feel extra close. It only made you notice how he wasn't looking into your eyes. The way he was grabbing you didn't seem so sexy. It just felt needlessly harsh and uncomfortable.

He kept thrusting, but he felt you tense up a little. At first he thought maybe something hurt. His hips began to slow, but before he could ask the question, he heard a whimper. Not the kind that bordered on being a moan. The cracked kind that came out as the last barrier before tears.

Then his hips came to a screeching halt against your center. He lifted his head from your throat and loosened his grip on your face. Pulling back to look at you, he saw the shine of tears in your eyes and the slight quiver in your lip.

"Hey..." he started softly, "Hey baby. You ok?"

He looked down at you with concerned confusion which just made you feel worse. God this was stupid.

"Y-yeah," you stammered.

His brows furrowed with worry, not convinced by your answer. The rage from earlier was abating now, replaced primarily by guilt.

"You sure?" he checked, "You can say no if that's the answer."

You sniffled and shook your head. Your hands landed on each of his cheeks and pulled his head down to rest his forehead against yours.

"I'm ok... it was just... it was too much for right now," you explained.

His chest ached at the idea that you'd been feeling uncomfortable with any of what he did, but the fact that you weren't breaking down was a good sign. You were never the best at controlling your emotions, so if something worse was wrong, he doubted you'd be able to hide it.

He could tell you didn't want this to turn into a big thing, so he tried to give you that. It wasn't like he was in the mood for some huge emotional blow out either. His hips inched back before pushing into you a little.

"Was I being too rough on my baby?" he asked.

"A little," you said.

He nodded, kissing one of your cheeks and then the other. He nuzzled your skin while slowly beginning to move his lower half again. This time around he was much more conscious of his speed. He worked with more care, still pleasuring both of you but being gentle about it.

"I'm sorry, sweet girl," he said, kissing your lips with all the love he could muster. He never would have thought himself capable of pivoting so quickly from rough and hard to slow and easy, but when it came to you, it wasn't even a difficult thing.

"I'm sorry too. I know-" you started.

"Hey, hey, none of that," he chided, his voice husky, "You're good for being honest, yeah? I'm always telling you not to be shy with me. If it's too much for you, it's too much."

"I know, I just didn't wanna make it weird cause I feel all sensitive tonight," you said.

A soft moan drifted from your lips after that as his cock continued sliding in and out of you. You hooked your arms around his back, keeping him close.

"You didn't make anything weird. You get too trapped in your own head sometimes," he said, "I'm just tense after work, y'know. But it's not your job to put up with that. If you want it soft and slow, then that's what you're gonna get."

"Thanks," you whimpered. You kissed at his neck next, trying to reciprocate the love he was giving you.

"It's nothing, honey. I always wanna take care of you. Never wanna hurt you," he murmured.

He allowed his eyes to shut for a few moments so he could get lost in the pleasure of your cunt squeezing around him. It was only for a couple seconds though. Then his gaze was back on you.

His hand returned to your face with a much more gentle touch. With a few fingers on your chin, he guided you to look at him again.

"Look at me. Let me see those pretty eyes," he whispered.

You obliged the request, staring into the eyes of the man you loved so much.

"That's my girl," he praised, planting another kiss on your lips, "My perfect pretty girl."

Those words settled you completely. You didn't feel anymore discomfort from before. You relaxed into the pleasure of now, letting yourself melt away beneath him.

It didn't take either one of you too long after that to cum. Your soft little whimpers and sighs brought him to the edge while his eyes on your face and caring hands rubbing your sides got you there.

In the afterglow, he'd normally just lay there with you pressed to his side, but tonight he sat up and dragged you into his lap. He cradled your body against his chest, keeping you nice and close.

He rocked you back and forth, his large palm rubbing up and down your back.

"You ok now?" he whispered.

You nodded against his chest. "It was still good for you, right?" you asked and looked up at him from where your face was squished against his chest.

He scoffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes. "Course it was. I was with you, wasn't I?" he said.

You smiled and nodded. You knew the answer was gonna be something along those lines, but you liked hearing it. Leaning up, you gave him a quick kiss before sinking back into bed and tugging on him to cuddle. He followed and raised his arm for you to slide under.

"Tomorrow if I feel better I'll let you fuck me for real," you sighed as you got comfy against his chest.

"Oh will you?" he said with mild amusement, "For someone feeling so sensitive, you still got quite the mouth on you."

"It's just the truth," you yawned.

"Yeah, yeah. Just get some rest, alright? We can deal with how you're feeling tomorrow, tomorrow" he hushed you with a loving roll of his eyes.

He kissed your forehead and watched as you nodded and quieted down to allow yourself to fall back asleep like you had been before he got home.

[jistagrams]

Nerdy jisung..... def would be sitting in his car listening to some rnb singer like frank ocean or sza, talking to eachother as the music hums in the background, car was barley dirty. Looks way to clean to be owned by some 22 year old in college, little do you know he had taken it to get washed and cleaned the day before you guys hung out. you both went on random subjects, but he can't get one thing out of his head. that thing was your stupid little dress you had on, sure u wanted to look all pretty for some nerd you had seen in the book store looking at some kid reading level Lego book. Thought he was cute so you asked him on a date, 4 weeks later and 6 dates here you are. Talking to jisung who won't take it a step further cause he wants to move "slow". Right he wants to move slow. So why is he thinking about how sweet you taste, or how pretty your moans would be. He's thought every disgusting thing you could imagine, he's thought about you in the shower as his whines fill up the room, thought about you right before bed as he opened up his photos and scrolled to your very own album that lies in his phone, labeled "💗" cute you had thought when you had saw it on his phone while he sheepishly went on Instagram once you saw it, little did you know he used all the e pictures of you together to get off to when he's alone at night, when you spent the night just that one time because it was raining, he held back every fiber in his body to not quickly run to the bathroom to drop his load. Anyways. Back to your dress. Too short, wayyyy to short for jisung to act like he doesn't even realize. what you realized was him spaced out, "you good ji?" your soft voiced brought him back to reality, "uhm yea, was just thinking" he shyly says as red fills his cheeks. "u sure? Kinda look like a tomato" you teased softly, uncrossing your legs immediately jisung notices, one more move and im gonna lose it. He was right, once you let out a soft sigh while stretching he couldn't be silent anymore, 4 weeks was surely enough...right? "yn, I can't hold myself back anymore please let me touch you" he whined unbuckling his seatbelt, you smile and laugh softly, unbuckling yours soon after. "was hoping you'd say something, wore this dress to get you to fuck me" you smile, sliding over onto his lap mid sentence, "fuckkkkk, it definitely worked cus there's no way your leaving my car without me getting to fuck the living shit out of u" he says while holding your hips down, "always thought of u as a lil virgin loser" you whined softly when he started moving his hips up. "May look like one, but trust me baby i definitely know what I'm doing" he plants hickeys on your neck, sliding your panties to the side as you unzip his pants.

"I know damn well jisung didn't give you all of those hickeys"

"you'd be surprised what that man has done."

"....what?"

"js know he definitely isn't a nerd."

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

hii this is not a request (unless u want it to be *wink wink*) just a horny thot i had that i needed to share lol but imagine frank’s girl having a rough day or being super down and frank saying “use me” to her while she’s on top and just passionate times ensue

a/n: okay but this turned out so mind-meltingly domestic and hot uuurrggghhhh

word count: 1647

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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Switching the light off, you stepped out of the small bathroom. Glancing over at Frank as he plugged his phone into the charger at the bedside table, he asked quietly, “do you wanna talk about it?”

Crossing the room, you shook your head, “no,” and he reached for you, tenderly pulling your frame towards him. Curling your arms around his head, you hugged his seated figure back, “I don’t wanna talk tonight because if I do then I’ll just cry a bunch and get a massive headache…” you ran your fingers through his short hair, scratching his scalp soothingly as you exhaled heavily, “I just wanna feel better.” 

As he tilted his head up to look at you, you only gazed at his gentle expression a moment before you leaned down and pressed your lips to his. 

The soft goodnight kiss soon grew and morphed into something more as your arms tangled around his neck and he instinctively pulled you into his lap. As his frame slowly began to sink down against the mattress, taking you with him for the ride, his warmth felt so good that you couldn’t help but melt down against him completely. 

When his fingers found the muscles along your spine and soothingly pressed down, a low groan escaped your lips and vibrated against the kiss as he continued to massage your back.   

Sighing moans seeped from your lungs as your hips instinctively rolled down against his. 

You knew each other so well at this point, that words weren’t always necessary in situations like this. He knew what the shiver down your spine meant, just as you knew what meaning lied behind his tongue when it lavishly danced against your own. 

When the flame had sparked into such a fierce fire that you were only moments away from ripping each other’s sleepwear off, a breathy prayer escaped Frank’s lips.

“Use me.”

You didn’t pull back, only hazily lingered in his warmth as you hummed, “huh?” your nose ghosting against his own. 

“I wanna help you, make you feel better,” his hands swooped up to the sides of your face and drew you back enough for his gaze to catch yours, “so, use me,” his words caused your eyes to flicker back at him, “what do you want, huh? Because you just say the word and I’ll do it. I’ll do anything for you.”

A soft sigh flowed from your lips as you gazed down at him in adoration, “can you make me forget about everything? Turn my brain off… even just for a little while…”

“And how would you like me to do that, sweetheart?”

Offering him another roll of your hips, you breathed, “I think you already know,” and seized his lips once more. 

Your nightgown fluttered and rode up with his movements as his broad palms brushed up and down the curve of your frame, occasionally curling around your bottom and grazing his light touch over your underwear.  

Though suddenly, a breathy yelp tumbled out of you as Frank yanked you further up the bed, sculpting you till your thighs were planted on either side of his face. Curling his arms around your hovering hips, he firmly pulled them down. 

“O-oh…” a shaky sigh escaped your lips as his sloppy kisses soddened your covered core.

You reached out to the headboard for support as Frank’s sturdy nose nudged against your clit. Tightening his grasp on your hips, he gently began to move them down against his hot mouth till you slowly began to take over and grind down against his efforts. 

“Oh, fuck,” he soon groaned when he lifted you slightly off of him. His puffs of breath only fanned across your saliva-soaked underwear a moment before he yanked you off completely, “come here,” and flipped you around, readjusting himself so that he sat up against the headboard and had you slotted in between his thighs, your spine pressed up against his chest as he moulded you against him. Reaching down, he adjusted your legs, cracking you open and planting either one of your feet on the outer side of his knees. Casting his glance down over your shoulder, “ahh, look at that,” his warm touch travelled up your inner thigh before it found your panties, briefly tugging the clinging cotton up till the gusset dug deliciously into you. 

As he let the fabric spring back, all of his fingertips on that faintly balled-up fist swooped down to tickle you over the cotton, drawing feather-light circles that caused your frame to squirm from how good it felt. His lips nipped at the pulse thrumming on the side of your neck, even as he eventually ceased his caress with a playful tap against your puff. 

“Take them off,” he whispered in your ear as you felt him shift lightly behind you, craning over to the bedside table as you wiggled the pour panties down your legs. Fishing a bottle of lube out of the drawer, he then squeezed a dollop onto the pads of his fingers.

It wasn’t like you really needed it after all of his wonderful caresses, but a little added slickness never hurt no matter how ready you were, the only thing it ever managed to accomplish was increase your pleasure, and that was never something to deny yourself off, especially when it was just within arm’s reach.  

Your head tilted and your cheek smooshed against Frank’s chest as his fingers curled inside of you. His other curled around you as well, squeezing the softness of your tits through the thin material of your nightgown and nearly cradling you in the process as he slowly pumped two thick digits inside of you. 

“Oh, you’re so warm…” Frank’s deep voice rumbled softly behind you as his thumb stretched up to roll your clit. 

Tilting your chin, your lips parted as you gazed up at him. Curling your fingers around the nape of his neck, you drew him down enough to steal a kiss, his hot tongue swiftly sneaked out to join the party as you slowly turned your frame. 

Slipping his fingers out of your cunt, his touch stayed near your centre as he then lifted you up into his lap. Clawing needily at his dark boxers to free his cock, in a heartbeat you found yourself slowly sinking down upon it, his firm grip around you doing all of the work. 

“O-oh my god,” your eyes fluttered as he slowly eased you down, “I always kinda forget how fucking big it actually is until you put it in.”

Your grasp slid further up till you cupped each one of his scruffy cheeks, lowering your forehead to his as you trembly blew out short breaths of adjustment. 

“Well, I never forget just how incredible you feel,” one of his thumbs swirled over your skin as the rest of his digits dug into your flesh, leaving Frank-shaped imprints in the plush of your ass, “fucking amazing…”

You didn’t have to do a thing except let yourself sink into the sensation as Frank began to move you. His arms flexed around you as he slowly lifted you up, dragging your pussy over every little detail of him before he brought your back down, his brawny embrace practically cradled you as he gently bounced you in his lap. 

After your cunt had creamed all over his cock and he’d held you there in his arms a moment, just littering your face with his kisses, he then lowered you down to lay on the bed.

Propping both a pillow beneath your head as well as one beneath your hips, your legs curled over his bent ones as he dragged the bulbous tip of his dick through your puffy petals, “you are so beautiful,” parting them lavishly as he uttered, “my Y/n…” before he slowly slid back inside, “my love…” sinking down on top of you so that he became your entire reality, “I love you so much, you know that right?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, your legs curling up to hook around his back, “I love you too,” you felt your thighs begin to tremble on either side of him as he buried himself completely, “I love–, oh fuck…” as the length of him nuzzled impossibly deep within you, coherent words became awfully difficult to get out. 

He was so deep, you could feel him everywhere. And from the way that the tip of him kissed the deepest part of you with every euphoric roll of his hips, you were sure that if his comforting weight hadn’t been pressed so snugly against you, that you’d be able to glance down and spot a dull bulge form in your lower stomach with every single mind-melting thrust. 

But suddenly his intense and intoxicating movements eased and froze as he asked in a soft tone, “wow, wow, sweetheart. Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, why did you stop?”

“Baby, you’re crying,” his thumb swiped over your misty cheek. 

“I am?” your brows furrowed fuzzily as you sniffled, “I didn’t realise, I’m sorry. I’m alright, I swear, you just feel so fucking good, I love you so much,” the words bubbled out of you like the tears that sprung from your eyes. 

“Oh, Y/n,” he gazed down at you as a gentle smile warmed his features, “you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, please just don’t stop, keep going, you’re so fucking deep.”

His face scrunched up in a heavenly expression as he rocked back into you, “I love you,” hovering right above you as he fucked you into oblivion, “I love you so much… I’m right here… you’re right here, with me… the day’s all done… just focus on this… focus on me… on how I feel… how you make me feel… nothing, and I mean nothing’s, gonna hurt you… I’ve got you… I’ll keep you safe… I’ll always keep you safe…” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[sketchy-tour]

ALRIGHTY! Time to formally reintroduce yall to my silly idiot OC Dandy!

and by that I mean, I redid their ref art, tweaked their bio, and finally made a ref for their stupid pajamas! Wanted to do other fits for them but aa another time. Brain is mashed potatoes.

Anyway, Dandy is my silly WH oc who's main theme is self care/self love messages shown through the imagery of gardening! Meant to be a sort of "garden of the self" sort of deal. They go by ANY PRONOUNS! She/her or He/Him, or They/Them are all correct and okay to use when talking about them! (I just tend to default to they/them) Putting their full bio under the break!!! So you can read it all there!

"Resident gardener of Welcome Home, Dandy Leon is a curious but careful presence among the others in the neighborhood. They enjoy the quiet and spending their time tending to their various flowers. While a little shy around their fellow neighbors, they open up quickly when asked about their garden. Despite their more introverted disposition, they're always determined to make every day just dandy!"

It’s presumed that Dandy makes appearances only in the later episodes of the show’s run. But in old scripts found with them, it's shown that they moved to Home specifically because they were interested in the local plant life there. The episode that featured their move in seemed to focus on them slowly warming up to the others in the neighborhood, as their shy nature made it difficult for them to properly meet everyone. When asked as to where they lived before moving to Home, Dandy mentions living in a farm town far away, simply deeming it "far more south from here!" A lot of their dialogue also mentions their father, though he's never named but instead mentioned passively as Dandy would often use phrases like "Well it's like my pop always said-" when speaking to the other puppets.

During their short time on the show, Dandy's segments seemed focused on care for their garden, the language hinting that the flowers were more a metaphor for taking care of oneself and well being. Other characters can be found pointing out how much better Dandy’s garden looks when they’re feeling happy, but also comment how wilted it becomes when they’re shown to be a bit more downtrodden. They feel strongly about how important it is to be kind to yourself, even if it’s a skill they’re shown to still be working on themselves. Their confidence is something they also struggle with, seemingly a character meant for shyer audience members to attach to and grow alongside with. Dandy is often depicted in illustrations with Frank, getting along quite well in the show, often joining him and Julie on small escapades. Before the show's end however, most of Dandy's screen time is with Wally as he tries to get Dandy out of their shell more to spend time around others.

Interestingly, what pronouns were used for them seemed to change between the show's episodes and illustrated materials. While neighbors would refer to them as 'he' during the show, most art pieces seemed to refer to Dandy as a 'she'. Whether this was simply a miscommunication between teams or a printing error is unknown.

[bellaxgiornata]

Neighbors [Chapter 1]

Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.6k

[Series Chapter List and Summary]

Warnings/tags: 18+; contains friends to lovers, violence, fluff, eventual smut, angst

a/n: Finally chapter one is here after that initial prologue! And so is Frank in this part! Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mycobrakai1972 @stilllivindue2spite @luvr-bunnyy @pone21

Keeping your hand steady, you continued to write out the new seasonal menu on the chalkboard hanging by the coffee shop's register. Every beginning of the month you'd change the specialty lattes over to some different flavor combinations that you'd come up with which you felt were fitting for that time of year, and this morning it was time for that list to change.

You had been focused on what you were doing for the past fifteen minutes now, teeth biting down on your lip in concentration, until a noise coming from the back of the coffee shop caught your ear. Your hand momentarily paused on the ‘B’ you'd been trying to write as you attempted to decipher the sound, beginning to feel slightly on edge. Despite the fact that your shop was bright and airy inside, full of natural light from the large shop windows that allowed for the varying plants you had everywhere to thrive, you always found yourself a little nervous when you were here alone. It was always a fear of yours that something would happen–even if this was generally a friendly small town.

Turning your head, you focused on the door that led to the backroom as the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder. Your hand tightened around the bit of chalk you were holding, your body tensing. Seconds later you spotted Allison making her way through the doorway. Quickly relaxing at the sight of her, you felt ridiculous for having been on edge thinking it could've been anyone else.

Of course it was just Allison, you told yourself. She was on the schedule to open today.   

She sent you a smile when she saw you standing in front of the chalkboard. “Good morning, boss!” she greeted you.

“Morning, Aly,” you replied, attention returning back to the chalkboard. “Do you mind unlocking the front door so I can finish working on this?”

“Already on it!” she replied.

She made her way around the counter, grabbing your keyring from off of the top of it as she passed by. You heard her make her way over to the front door and stick the key into the lock as you finished up the second line on the seasonal menu. You lowered your hand, taking a step back and eyeing your handiwork, trying to see if the lettering looked even enough by your perfectionist standards. 

“So I went on that date last night,” Allison told you.

“Oh yeah?” you asked, head turning to the side as your eyes narrowed at the spacing of a few words. “How'd the second date go?”

Allison placed the keys back onto the counter near you before she made her way back around it. With a sigh you finally figured the second line looked perfect enough and you began to focus on starting the third line.

“Awful,” she told you. “I don't think I've endured so many awkward silences in my life. I mean, it's like he lost the ability to make small talk entirely this time!”

“Maybe he was just nervous?” you told her, focused on the ‘L’ you had begun writing. “You are a big personality after all.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Allison grab an apron from off the back wall and throw it on. Chewing on your bottom lip again, you tried to perfectly space out the next letter with the lines already written above this one. If anything was just slightly off, you knew it would bother you all month long. 

“Yeah, maybe,” Allison said with a sigh, coming to rest her forearms onto the countertop near you. “But I like my men bold and outgoing, you know that.”

You laughed lightly, nodding your head. “That I certainly do,” you agreed. “But maybe someone more subdued could ground you sometimes. Never hurts to give people a chance.”

“Speaking of giving people a chance,” Allison began, the tone of her voice causing you to stop writing and shoot her a side-eye, “when are you going to let someone take you out on a date?”

“Never,” you told her, focusing back on the chalkboard. “I like my men nonexistent. I don't have time to date, you know that, Aly. Besides, there's not a decent option in this town near my age who's still single and doesn't slog it up at The Crooked Antler most nights.”

“You do know there's a thing called the internet, right?” she asked. “That's what dating apps are for.”

“Dating apps are mostly for hook-ups, Aly,” you pointed out, focused on spelling out the word ‘lavender.’ “I'm not looking for that. Or anything. I'm busy enough with the shop and Lily right now.”

“Okay,” Allison said, drawing the word out suspiciously. “But what if you happened to meet a guy in person? Could there be someone who might change your mind?”

“Considering I don't leave this town hardly ever and I've already said there's not many prospects here,” you replied, “I find that highly unlikely.”

Out of your peripheral you saw Allison shrug, her attention fixed on the front of the shop. You continued to work on the third line of the chalkboard, knowing full well Lily would want to decorate it this morning when you finished with it.

“Well what if a really hot guy just walked into Common Grounds looking like a tree that needed to be climbed?” Allison asked casually. “Like a really, really hot guy?”

Your eyes narrowed at her, your hand hovering over the ‘E’ you'd just written. “I'd say that'd never happen and sounds like its bordering on inappropriate work talk.”

Aly rolled her eyes at you. “Only because you don't like to talk about your love life,” she said.

“Because it's not up for discussion,” you stated, turning back to the chalkboard. 

“If you say so,” she sing-songed under her breath.

Beginning to draw out the ‘R’, you heard the door to the shop open behind you. You half-expected to hear Lily’s excited voice greet you along with the cold blast of wind from the early spring morning, but instead you heard heavy footsteps making their way over to the register.

“Good morning and welcome to Common Grounds!” Aly cheerfully greeted the customer. “What can I get you today?”

“Just a large coffee,” a deep voice rumbled out. “Black.”

Finishing the letter you were working on, you couldn’t resist glancing over your shoulder at the man standing in front of the register. He was broad-shouldered under the black jacket he was wearing, his presence easily commanding the space he was in. He stood with almost perfect posture as he focused on swiping his card through the reader once Aly had read off his total. 

The slight head gesture Aly was making at the man when he wasn't looking caught your eye and your attention shifted over at her. She mouthed out ‘he's hot, get his number’ to you and you immediately shot her a pointed glare in return, shaking your head. Aly abruptly straightened back up, plastering a smile onto her face as if nothing had happened when the man looked up at her, sliding his card back into his wallet.

“Your coffee will be ready in just a minute,” she told him.

You watched as Aly turned around, beginning to work on making the man's black coffee. For a moment you stood there, silently eyeing him as he waited patiently for his drink. You had to admit, Aly was right. He was attractive. He had a chiseled profile with a prominent nose, and thick dark hair on his head that you wouldn't mind running your fingers through. A bit of dark stubble covered his jaw, accentuating his cheekbones. He even looked well-built beneath his jacket as he stood with his hands clasped at his waist in front of himself. But the more you observed him, the more you were positive that you'd never seen him in town before. Before you could stop yourself, the question was already leaving your mouth. 

“I haven't seen you in here before, are you just passing through or visiting?” you asked.

The man's full attention shifted to you at the sound of your voice. There was a faint scowl on his lips, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he briefly looked you over. A sudden self-consciousness washed over you under his gaze and the surly, unfriendly expression on his face.

“Neither,” he answered gruffly.

“I just say that because I'm usually great with remembering faces and coffee orders,” you continued, hoping to ease the awkwardness with a friendly smile, “and I don't recognize either with you.”

“Look, I'll be honest ma'am,” the man said, that dour expression never changing, “I’m not one for small talk. It's been a long week and I got a long day ahead of me. I just want some coffee.”

He took a couple of steps farther down to the end of the counter, turning his back slightly towards you and abruptly ending the conversation. Your eyes widened in disbelief at his rudeness, your eyebrows rising up onto your forehead. That wasn't common in this small town. 

Shaking your head at his back, you were about to return to your chalkboard menu when the door to your left once again opened. The sight of Lily beaming at you as she dragged your brother into the coffee shop had a smile instantly returning to your face.

“Good morning, Nini!” Lily happily greeted you. 

“Morning, coffee bean,” you greeted her back. “You ready to help me here this morning?”

Her index finger landed on her chin, tapping it lightly as she glanced up towards the ceiling as she often did when pretending to be in thought. A smile tugged at your lips as you exchanged a look with your brother. You both knew what was coming next–a pastry request.

“If I help, can I get a cinnamon sugar scone?” she asked, her eyes going wide and doe-eyed as they landed back on you.

“Of course, coffee bean,” you answered, taking a step forward and reaching a hand out to ruffle her hair. 

She giggled, beaming back up at you. Just as you were about to say something more to her, the man who'd been rude to you made his way towards the three of you congregating near the door, his large coffee in his hand. Your mouth closed again, your lips instantly thinning into a straight line along your face at the sight of him and that still grumpy expression.

“‘S'cuse me,” he muttered, head ducking down.

He slipped past the three of you, accidentally bumping into your shoulder as he headed towards the door. Your eyes narrowed at his back, watching as he made his way out of the shop and down the sidewalk. 

“Who was that?” Jaime asked curiously, a thumb gesturing over his shoulder. “He doesn't look like one of your usuals. Never seen him around here before.”

Your attention returned to your brother as you shook your head. “Don't know,” you answered. “But he sure was grumpy. Anyway,” you continued, not wishing to spend anymore thought on the stranger's rudeness, “I'll drop her back home at half-past five tonight? As usual?”

Your brother's eyes darted down to his feet, his hands slipping into his jacket pockets. He suddenly looked almost nervous.

“Is it possible you could watch her until eight?” he asked. “I've uh, pulled some strings and got some extra time at work tonight.”

Your head tilted to the side, brows knitting together. “At the Antler?”

“No uh, at work,” he answered, his eyes still avoiding yours as a hand slipped out of his pocket, awkwardly running over the back of his neck. “There's a project that is being rushed and my boss was accepting a few volunteers to work more hours to help speed things up.”

“Yeah, sure,” you replied, curious as to why he was acting so strange about this. “I can drop her off by eight. Maybe we can order pizza for dinner,” you said, glancing down and shooting Lily a wink.

At the mention of pizza, Lily instantly perked up. She began bouncing up and down as she clutched her stuffed husky to her chest. You smiled, your mood instantly lifted by her presence.

“Thanks, sis,” Jamie murmured. “You don't know how much I appreciate your help.”

You waved him off with a dismissive hand. “Don't worry about it, we're family,” you told him. “And I love having my little coffee bean helping me keep things running smoothly here.”

Jaime nodded, shooting you an almost sheepish smile before he turned and knelt down towards your niece. The pair of them exchanged their usual goodbyes along with a hug before Jaime made his way out of the coffee shop without another word. You watched him leave for a moment as he headed back towards his car, still curious as to why he’d seemed so off this morning. 

“So, Lily,” you began, eventually tearing your eyes away from your brother and focusing back on your niece, “why don’t you go fill that watering can in my office while I finish this sign? And then after you’ve finished watering the plants I can grab you that scone to enjoy. By the time you’re done with that I should have this month’s menu written out and you can decorate it. Does that sound good?”

“Yes, yes!” she exclaimed, excitement shining in her eyes. “I’m going to draw butterflies and bunnies and flowers on it!”

Grinning, you gestured your head towards the back door of the coffee shop. “Sounds perfect, coffee bean. Why don’t you get started with that watering can?”

Without being told twice, she darted off through the coffee shop and around the counter, disappearing through the doorway and down the hall towards the back office. Allison was smiling after her, pointing a finger in the direction she’d disappeared.

“If only someone could bottle up that energy and brew it into a coffee,” Allison joked. “I’d like five of those.”

“You and me both,” you agreed.

Heading back to the chalkboard, you tried to focus on finishing it, but you could feel Allison’s eyes on you. With a sigh you turned towards her, an eyebrow shooting up questioningly.

“What?” you asked her.

“That guy might’ve been hot, but his attitude?” she said, shaking her head and making a face. “Wow. I was not expecting that. Definitely no longer Allison-approved for you.”

You shot her a cheeky smile as you teased, “Especially because he despises small talk so much?”

Allison laughed, shaking her head. “Yes, that too. I guess it’s true when they say looks aren’t everything.”

“No, they certainly are not,” you agreed with a sigh.

Once more focusing back on the chalkboard, you began to start on the final line. You wanted it finished before the usual morning rush appeared in a few minutes. But as you were drawing an ‘R’ on the board, you heard Allison speak again and the comment she made had you botching the letter.

“Bet he’s still good in bed, though,” she said, just loud enough for you to hear.

Your face heated as a brief mental image of that man in a more intimate setting flashed through your mind, but you quickly tried to push it away. It had been far too long since you’d last been with someone and you didn’t need to start thinking about that right now.

“Alright, Aly,” you lightly scolded her. “Lily is just down the hall. Let’s keep it PG for now, alright?”

“You got it, boss,” she answered.

But you didn’t miss the tone of her voice that told you she’d noticed your reaction to her comment. Clearing your throat, you focused twice as hard on your chalkboard in silence.

Hanging up the call on your cell phone, you set it down on the small kitchen island. “So Lily,” you called out, turning around and making your way out of the kitchen and back towards the living room. “I just finished ordering us a large pepperoni pizza from Francisco’s and–”

You stopped dead in your tracks as you entered the living room at the sight before you. Both Lily and your dog Penny were perched at the front window, faces pressed to the glass and looking out of it. Presumably the pair of them were once again staring at the neighbor’s driveway–something you'd scolded her for doing a few times already now. 

“Lily, what do you think you’re doing?” you asked her, arms crossing over your chest.

Both her and Penny looked back at you simultaneously. The sight was almost laughable with how much of a pair they always made together, especially with the matching looks of guilt on their faces. You fought to keep a fairly stern expression on your own face at the sight because she’d been trying to watch the neighbor all evening ever since his truck had pulled up and she had told you that he'd been unloading it. The only way you managed to pull her away from the window for any length of time earlier was when you told her she could plate the cookies she’d made for him. Which of course turned into her picking out a leftover plate from Valentine’s Day, one that you’d used when the pair of you had baked heart cookies and handed them out to neighbors and friends the other month. You'd reluctantly helped her plate them, your embarrassment at the prospect of dropping the cookies off only growing with her plating choice. But at least she was coming with you, because there was absolutely no way in hell you’d have delivered them yourself.

“Seeing if he’s done unpacking,” Lily answered guilty. “So that we can go give him the cookies.”

“Lily, you can’t be staring at people outside,” you told her. “It’s rude and people don’t like that. Don’t be a nosey Nancy.”

“But he just grabbed the last box!” she whined, turning around towards you. “Can’t we go give him the cookies now, please ?”

Sighing, you glanced down at the watch on your wrist. It was getting late now that it was nearing six. Any later and it would be incredibly rude to go knocking on his door to drop off cookies. And if it was the last box that he’d taken out from his truck, you hopefully wouldn’t be interrupting him too much, but maybe you’d have an excuse to hand him the cookies, welcome him to the neighborhood, and then run away back to your place and hide from his reaction since he’d need to finish unpacking.

 “Alright,” you relented with a sigh. “We can go drop off the cookies.”

Lily let out a shriek of excitement before she bolted past you, tossing her stuffed husky onto the coffee table as she raced to the kitchen. Penny darted excitedly after her, her nails clacking across the wood laminate floors as she went. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you made your way over to the entry closet, pulling out shoes for you and Lily. 

When you turned around, you saw her carefully carrying the plate of cookies in both of her hands out of the kitchen, the vibrant pink and red heart pattern on the plate impossible to miss even with the plastic wrap holding the very pink and sprinkle-covered cookies in place. Internally you cringed, but the look of pride on your niece’s face had you smiling back at her instead. Because admittedly it was a very sweet gesture she’d thought of all on her own. Even if you still wished she’d just wanted to make regular chocolate chip cookies for the man instead.

It took the pair of you a couple of minutes to get your shoes on before you stepped outside onto the small front porch you shared with your neighbor. Lily walked a step ahead of you, proudly carrying the plate of cookies in her hands down the short distance between you and your neighbor’s front doors as the light waned outside. The sun was near setting behind the row of houses across the street now and it wouldn't be long before it was completely dark outside.

Inhaling a deep breath in as the pair of you came to a stop in front of the neighbor’s front door, you reached a hand out and knocked firmly three times against it. You kept internally hoping this man wasn��t about to make some sort of asshole-ish comment to your niece about the cookies, desperately hoping he was as polite and gentlemanly as Cora had made him sound. But a few moments later when the door unlocked and swung open, your eyes grew wide and the smile completely fell from your face. It felt like the air had been knocked out of your lungs at the sight of the rude man from Common Grounds this morning standing before you. The very same one who’d refused to make small talk and then bumped into you on his way out. All your hopes of him being friendly and polite to your niece immediately disappeared, leaving you with nothing but a sinking feeling of dread.

The scowl you remembered from this morning was still on his face as his gaze landed on you first, his eyes narrowing just a fraction in something like suspicion as he scanned your face. You were still trying to figure out what the hell to say to him when Lily finally spoke up.

“Look, Nini!” she exclaimed, finally catching the man’s attention, “it’s the grumpy man from the coffee shop!”

You swore your heart stopped beating in your chest, embarrassment flooding you completely. Slowly the man’s eyes returned to you, one of his dark brows raising up onto his forehead. Swallowing hard, you’d never wished you could disappear into thin air more in your life than right now.

“Grumpy man, huh?” he asked.

An awkward laugh slipped out of you, a nervous smile sliding onto your face. “I suppose we’re all a little grumpy before our caffeine,” you awkwardly replied. Clearing your throat as his hardened stare only grew your discomfort, you quickly pressed on. “Look, we didn’t mean to disturb you, we just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.” Pointing to yourself, you gave him your name in a rush before gently placing a hand atop Lily’s head. “And this is my niece, Lily. She’s often with me and she was the one who wanted to bake you cookies when she heard I was getting a new neighbor. So we just–just came by to drop those off real quick.”

The man’s expression shifted slightly as he focused back down on Lily at your side. An emotion crossed his face so fast that you almost didn’t catch it, but you had. Curiously you noted he'd briefly looked pained, but then the unthinkable happened–he smiled .

“Well is that right?” he asked, crouching down to your niece’s height. “You made me cookies, sweetheart?”

“Yes, they’re heart cookies,” she told him, holding the plate out towards him. “Because heart cookies make me happy, so I thought they’d make you happy. Nini and I made them yesterday.”

He reached out, accepting the plate of cookies from her little hands so gently while the smile only widened on his mouth. As you watched the surprising interaction play out, you had to actively make sure your jaw hadn’t dropped onto the front porch floor. Because whatever you’d been expecting him to do or say in reaction to receiving those cookies had most certainly not been this.

“Did you pick out the pink frosting?” he asked her, examining the cookies.

“Yep!” Lily answered proudly. “Pink is my favorite color! And so is purple and green.”

The man glanced up from the plate in his hands at your niece, a genuine smile still on his face as he nodded. “Well those are good colors, but I think you chose well with the pink,” he told her. “And I like the sprinkles.”

“Thank you!” Lily said, beaming and twirling a little back and forth in excitement before him. “So what’s your name?”

He chuckled lightly at her enthusiasm, his focus solely on her. The unexpected and pleasant deep sound of it warmed you, especially with the sweet way he continued interacting with your niece.

“My name is Frank,” he told her. 

Lily nodded her head, still smiling her heartwarming smile at the man. The look on his face had you realizing maybe you’d completely misjudged him this morning, though you worried he wasn’t going to like you much after Lily’s initial comment about his grumpiness. Hopefully that wouldn’t make things strained between the pair of you, especially with being neighbors.

“It’s nice to meet you, Frank!” she chirped.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, too, Lily,” he told her. Gesturing his head towards the plate of cookies in his hands he added, “Thank you for these. Been awhile since anyone’s brought me baked goods.”

Lily’s eyes lit up at his words, a surprised gasp leaving her. “Well in that case,” she began, her excitement somehow increasing further, “maybe we can make you brownies next! And Nini makes the best cinnamon rolls!”

“Hey, coffee bean?” you said, quickly cutting in. 

She looked up at you, all innocent eyes and bright smiles. You sent her a tense smile in return, ignoring the way Frank’s gaze falling back on you was beginning to make you feel multiple confusing things all at once.

“Maybe we should let Frank get back to unpacking and settling in, yeah?” you suggested. “He just moved in, remember?”

The expression on her face slightly fell at your words, but she nodded slowly. In the doorway, Frank began to rise back up to his full, intimidating height. Swallowing nervously, you focused back on him, sending the tense smile on your face his way.

“Sorry to have bothered you this evening, I'm sure you're busy,” you told him. “But welcome to the neighborhood. I’m uh, just next door if you ever need anything.”

He nodded his head curtly in reply, muttering out a quiet ‘thank you.’ You gently nudged Lily’s shoulder with a hand, attempting to direct her back towards your duplex with you. But as you turned and began to make your way back home, you overheard Lily speak up one last time.

“You know,” her little voice said, “you really aren’t so grumpy after all.”

Your eyes snapped shut as you sucked in a sharp breath, momentarily pausing mid-step. Why did kids always have to say whatever was on their mind?

“No,” he agreed with a soft chuckle, “no, sweetheart, I’m not. Thank you again for the cookies and I hope you ladies have a good night now.”

Cheeks straining from the awkward smile you plastered back onto your face, you glanced at him over your shoulder, sending him a partial wave. He shook his head, laughing softly to himself before he turned and closed his front door. Lily skipped happily over to your side as the pair of you made your way back to your front door, entirely unaware of your current embarrassment.

“How much longer until the pizza gets here?” she asked.

“Soon, coffee bean,” you answered, opening your front door.

Hopefully soon enough for me to bury my face in it and forget about that awkward encounter, you thought, hurrying back into your place. Because that was uncomfortable. Hopefully we don’t run into each other all that often.

[bookvvitch]

How To Make Two Lovers Of Friends

Words: 11,569

Synopsis:

Aizawa is taking a much-needed break after the war with Shigaraki and All For One. He isn't looking for anything in particular; that is, until he spots you in a goth themed coffee house. A whirlwind romance ensues in this one shot, filled to the brim with sexual tension, fluff, and smut.

Alternative/goth fem! Reader

Fair warning, this one is the first fic I'd ever written, so it isn't my best work. It does hold a special place in my heart though and I hope it's enjoyable for someone!

Morning light came dappled through the windows as you took your favorite seat at the coffee house, just like you did every morning to start your day. This coffee shop went by the name Bauhaus; probably a nonsequedor to most, but a familiar homage to a band for you. It had this witchy aesthetic, filled with books and old vinyls that made you feel at peace. You never really saw places like this when you still lived in America, at least not in your neck of the woods. How absolutely lucky that you lived just a few blocks away!

You ordered yourself the special for this month: The Headless Horseman, an iced pumpkin and caramel breve to celebrate the upcoming fall season, a welcome respite from the August heat. Smoothing away the creases on your black velvet dress, you thanked the barista, who you typically made small talk with but were not quite on a first name basis with just yet, and took your seat once again to finish reading your book. The leaves rattled in the wind outside and rapped against the building like old bones in a wooden sarcophagus.

"A storm is coming soon," you say quietly to yourself.

Gentle thunder thrums in the distance like the soft beating of a lambskin drum, and a small grin makes itself at home on your lips.

Perfect reading weather.

Adjusting yourself on the bench beneath your legs, your mouth curved at the edges, eliciting a slight hum from your lips. 

Ah. 

Spooky, scary peace.

Outside the confines of the coffee house, though, the weather was much less enjoyable. The heroes Eraserhead and Present Mic both trudged through heavy raindrops, soaked like wet dogs, caught off guard by the sudden change in weather. Aizawa scowled at his mess of dark hair getting drenched.

"Damn, this weather is nasty!" Said Mic, voice unintentionally booming.

He looked around and scouted for shelter as the thunder rolled, and settled on the closest bit of light he could see, pointing his finger at Bauhaus so as to motion for Aizawa to head that way.

They stopped at the overhang to dry off a bit before entering when Aizawa got a peek inside the shop. He took note of the band posters and bookshelves littering the walls, the violet-hued plants hanging from the ceiling and shelves, the generally alternative vibe that exuded from the place.

"I don't know, Hizashi," he stated hesitantly, shifting his weight to his good leg.

"What's the big deal? It's not like you'll look out of place," Hizashi was frank, opening the door with no apprehension. He gave a quick chuckle that sounded like taps on a hot microphone.

It was true, Aizawa typically dressed in all black. Now that he was taking a break, though, he didn't always have his capture weapon on him. He was instead accompanied by a patch over his eye and a prosthetic leg. He felt like he usually stood out like a sore thumb these days, which was problematic for someone who had always tried to keep such a low profile in the past.

Aizawa fiddled with his eyepatch and thought about how nice it would be to blend in once more. He had always tried to stay out of the spotlight, but after the intense battle with Shigaraki, it was harder to avoid the media. Maybe a place like this wasn't such a bad idea. He continued to zone out as Mic spoke much too loudly for the space they were in, as usual, and talked (mostly to himself) about if he should get a coffee or a smoothie.

Aizawa grew slightly embarrassed by his friend's actions as he looked around the room to see if his boisterous voice was bothering the other patrons. It was 6am, still early, so Bauhaus was lingering with the vestiges of sleep, waking with the rest of Musutafu. There was a green haired person on their laptop in the back corner, tucked away, uninvolved in the rest of the shop and seemingly unbothered. Empty seats. A full cup on a table that meant someone would be right back.

Then there was you.

Right beneath the window seat near the front of the shop, a purple vining plant hanging above you, crushed velvet bell sleeves rested upon the table as your fingers gripped the pages of a well-worn copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. Your face was aglow like the moon, scattered with a few freckles that danced across rosy cheeks, long lashes that arched over your half-lidded eyes. The bass of the music swelling over the speakers seemed to engulf Aizawa, thumping in his head, your silken locks being brushed to settle behind your ear as his mouth suddenly dried.

Then, as if on que, you looked up at him just in time for him to hear "oh Lucretia, my reflection", and everything seemed to stand still. He could feel his pulse in his fingertips. You had these gorgeous doe eyes, these pouty little lips that gave a gamine smile to him while he held his gaze for much too long, he was sure of it. You were a vision. A blooming Queen Of The Night. A siren out in the storm.

"Quit staring at her and tell me what you want to drink!"

Aizawa was snapped out of his delusion. Flustered at the comment, he groaned, his eye twitching. Unwilling to break the eye contact with you just yet, your smile grew, and you exchanged glances with him again, causing pink heat to bloom over his face. You sat down your book and made your posture more swanlike as you maintained eye contact with him. His breath hitched at this.

You snuck looks at him for the rest of the time the two were in the shop. You weren't enough of a go-getter to approach him--nor were you brave enough to blatantly ask him out--but you really hoped that maybe he would come in again.

————

As mortified as he was by Mic's statement, he knew he had to try to see you again.

Not because he wanted to get to know you or anything.

No.

You just seemed... interesting. You seemed interesting and he felt very comfortable in Bauhaus. In fact, it probably had very little to do with you at all. He was more than likely just transferring these feelings of comfort onto you. After all, it's been a while since he's been able to go out and not feel like he was the one being stared at.

Yes.

This is rational.

This is why he needed to go back. You were just there by happenstance.

Every single weekday morning--and on weekends when he wasn't watching Eri--for an entire month, he was at the shop.

That's just how comfortable he was there. That's how good their plain black coffee was. That's what it meant to have a routine.

It was just a coincidence that he couldn't help but to notice you.

You were always there in that same cozy nook. Some days you were dressed in a band t-shirt and jeans. Some days you were in a plaid skirt and combat boots. Some days you were in a mossy green dress that went to the floor. Some days you wore causal yoga pants that were surely comfortable but made him sweat like a sinner in church. He never knew what exactly he would see you in next, but it was usually the same kind of style. And you always had a book to read, which Aizawa greatly admired. You were studious and attentive with your literature, but also a little bit goofy, judging by the laughter between you and the barista when you picked up your drinks.

But he had also come to find that you were very kind. Although you didn't appear to be a hero, you helped in other ways. You would pay for people's orders if they didn't have enough to cover their purchase. Twice, he watched you pay for the food of a homeless man, and then you sat with this man as an equal, outside on the curb, as the two of you ate breakfast sandwiches and talked. You were softspoken and gentle in your manner of speech, making him feel as though you were reading him to sleep as you talked between bites of food.

He noticed you had the biggest soft spot for animals, though.

You would watch out the window at around 6:15 to see if your little cat friend would show up that day. You would give them a drink of water from your own bottle and cap, offer them bits of bread and meat, and coo at them in a lovely sing-song voice as they ate. The cat didn't want to be touched, they were scarred and matted all to hell; but you were patient every single time. What a beautiful soul you seemed to have.

Aizawa was normally pessimistic, but you made him feel hopeful in humanity. He was certain that you had flaws, as people do, but your acts of kindness always made sure he had a good start to his day. He was always ready to protect you if you ever needed it. The world could use more good people, after all.

One morning in particular, as Aizawa picked up his drink, he noticed a man lazily stroll up to you at your regular nook. This happened to you every so often now that you were in Japan. You were approached by men, and very occasionally other women, maybe a handful of times in your entire life back in the United States. Your best guess is that here you were considered "exotic" since you looked different from most. You almost never saw someone with features like yours, and you were certainly taller than most of the women here, with noticeably longer limbs; all things that weren't exactly beauty standards in America but seemed to garner attention in Japan.

Unfortunately, the attention wasn't usually the kind that you enjoyed, and this guy was no different. He was dressed in an athletic shirt and basketball shorts. Not that you were one to judge, because hell, sometimes you showed up in pastels if the mood so struck you. People weren't bound to the confines of fashion. However, in your experience, men dressed in this clothing who came into Bauhaus tended to be... unsavory. Usually someone looking to fulfill their fetishes.

"Ooo, Cara Mia," he taunted as he approached you.

An Addams Family reference would have otherwise been right up your alley, but when he said the quote, it felt icky somehow. You knew he had to have kept this line in his back pocket regardless of who he came across, anyway. You were in a long sleeved sheer top with a lavender camisole and pair of black bell bottoms. More Stevie Nicks than Morticia Addams. So you did the rational thing and ignored him. You weren't there to be someone's Big Tiddy Goth Girlfriend.

He didn't like that much.

"Hey. I'm talking to you," he spat his words at you with barely concealed contempt.

"I heard you," you flicked your eyes up at him sharply.

Aizawa's body tensed in preparation to spring into action, taking a step forward in your direction. Who the fuck did this guy think he was?

"I was just being nice. Not like anyone else is going to talk to your ugly old ass," his words were meant to bite at you, but you didn't budge.

"Old? Why, because I dared to live past 16? God, you are disgusting," you sat down your book and shook your head disapprovingly, "creeps like you are always projecting your own insecurities. How sad for you. Fuck off,"

He looked shocked, furious, like he was about to scream something in your face--but stopped abruptly when you started to hum. It was a haunting melody, something akin to a nocturne.

"I think you should go now," you stated plainly.

With this, the man walked out the door in what appeared to be a fugue-like state. And you calmly went back to your book.

Huh. Maybe you didn't need Aizawa's protection.

You just kept getting more and more intriguing.

On his fourth straight week of coming in, a Friday in early September, you decided to finally talk to him since it seemed like you were both regular patrons of the shop now. You made sure to finger-comb your hair before you turned to look at him. He was in his usual black on black sweatpants and sweatshirt, this time with his hair pulled back to reveal his jawline. He was very handsome, you thought.

"Hey there, you," you said after he placed his order of a single black coffee.

He turned around, a bit shocked at the sudden start of such a casual conversation.

"I see you in here a lot lately. I'm not sure if you have the time, but would you like to come sit with me?"

You smiled delicately in an attempt to seem welcoming.

"It would be nice to have some company for a change," you say.

His dark eye bore into you like a bullet coming straight for your gaze. After a moment of collecting his words, he finally settled on replying back:

"Yeah, sure. That would be fine,"

Aizawa tried his best to remain calm and cool, stoic even, refusing to let something so nonchalant shake him.

However, truth be told, you felt a bit shaken yourself. You weren't sure if he would accept your offer or reject it and then stop coming in. You could be so straightforward sometimes, and you felt like you could accidentally make things awkward. But you had a feeling he might at least be interested in getting to know you after your initial interaction with him.

You introduce yourself as you stirred your latte with a tiny silver spoon.

"Shota Aizawa," he gave in return.

"Nice to finally meet you," you say with a slight tease in your inflection and a mischievous look.

A blush crept across his face. God, of course you remembered when you two first saw one another. It felt as if he were sitting on pins and needles thinking about it.

"Do you like sitting under the stars?" You ask to cut the silence.

Aizawa looked perplexed. It seemed like an odd thing to ask him. Maybe you liked the outdoors?

"I've never actually been camping. Never really seemed that fun to me," he was eager to continue talking to you, though he wasn't sure exactly why.

You had this glint in your eye, like you knew the punchline to a joke you hadn't even told yet, along with a playful smile. Setting down your cup, you pointed up. That's when he noticed that the ceiling was matte black and painted with silver glittering stars.

"It's one of my favorite things about coming here," you disclosed this information to him, almost as if it were a secret.

It was then that he knew for sure that you weren't like most people.

You two met like this, discussing books and hobbies and music, for another month and a half. Every morning at 6am you could expect to see him waiting at Bauhaus for you, rain or shine. You would get some kind of breve or latte and he would get a strongly brewed black coffee. Sometimes you spoke for an hour before one of you had to go, sometimes you two were there until you were both hungry for lunch. Although the days all started at Bauhaus, occasionally, the day would take the two of you to a nearby ramen shop, a corner store, or a short walk down the block. Anywhere you wanted to go, he was there.

————

He now knew that you liked horror movies and would read just about anything you could get your hands on, that you loved animals, you moved here two years ago to help with the mental health crisis in Japan as a grief counselor, and you thoroughly enjoyed humor.

You came to know that he liked cats, was a teacher, liked the smell of rain, he was generally pretty introverted, read comic books as a kid, and had a liking for dark jokes. He had mentioned that he was a hero, a pro hero actually, when the shop was empty one morning. You said that was "so cool" and beamed with pride that you knew him, but you seemed unfamiliar with the Erasure Hero.

You continued to treat him exactly the same.

This was mesmerizing to Aizawa.

Today was one of the days that stretched on like a sleeping cat in a sunny patch. You'd already met once in the morning, breaked for work, and then met again in the late evening. The golden-hour sun was pouring in its warm light, backing you like some kind of seraphem, and painting him in a spreading halo of honeyed peach. The way the flecks of rainbow from the slanted glass flitted over his skin bewitched you.

And you, there at your place, drenched in marigold light that kissed down upon your flawless skin, made him shudder. Your eyes nearly glowed in the light. You appeared fragile, breakable, like spun glass; though he knew you were sturdier than your languid demeanor would let on.

He stuffed down the feelings he was starting to have for you like a snake eating a too large mouse. This was more than just lust, infatuation, or attraction. As scary as it was, he liked you. The butterflies stirred in his belly when you called his name from your window nook and the moths fluttered in yours when he said "I thought I might find you here, y/n," with the slightest upturn of his mouth. You were both nervous about this tension that was building between the two of you, but he was more reserved, whereas you tended to wear your heart on your sleeve. You knew that you would have to be the one to address it.

"Aizawa," you say to him, circling the rim of your cup with your fingertip as you place your other hand in front of his on the table, "I have some errands to run tomorrow... would you maybe want to come with me? It can be hard for me to carry heavy things all the way into my place on my own, and I really want to get some pumpkins to carve,"

This seemed utilitarian enough that he might feel more at ease accepting the invitation, but still deliciously domestic.

Aizawa felt the breath leave his lungs. Going to a pumpkin patch? Carving pumpkins? Like a cute little date?

"You don't have to, if you don't have the time," you stated reassuringly.

"Oh, no. It's nothing like that," His voice broke as he uttered out an answer, "I can go. I'll make the time if I don't have it,"

"Great! Can we meet up around 10?"

"I'll be there,"

"You always are,"

The air hung around the two of you with a lightness for a few seconds. Aizawa could see his reflection in your big glass-like eyes, causing his heart to beat wildly in his chest. You gave a small laugh, crinkling your nose, very aware of the closeness of your faces. He felt like maybe he should kiss you. But did you even like him that way? You could just be friendly and kissing you would be a huge mistake. Everything would come crashing down if he did that. Your trust would be gone. You would be gone. He couldn't take that risk.

But oh, how you wanted him to lean in and touch his lips to your own. You wondered how his stubble would feel against your skin, and if he would taste like that black coffee he was always sipping on. A knot formed in your stomach, this familiar aching, a longing, a fear of the unknown feelings he had for you, and excitement that he might feel the same way. How long had it been since you felt this way? Was it ever this intense?

You bit your bottom lip in anticipation, your heart racing. You could feel that something was bubbling up. Something was about to happen. You were going to lean in closer when the door to the coffee house flew open, and in walked Hizashi.

"I thought I'd find you here, Eraser! You sure love this place lately!" His voice nearly shook the entryway.

Tension gone.

Goodbye, mood.

Aizawa sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, fully aware that Mic was about to say something daft.

"Watcha got here?" Mic asked enthusiastically, gesturing toward you with a gloved hand, "Shota, do you have a girlfriend you never told me about?"

Fucking Mic.

Aizawa looked pale, sick even.

Of course he wanted you to be his girlfriend. Especially when he was about to go to sleep, or saw some stuffed animal he knew you would like, or when he was in the shower and thinking of how he'd like to see those sultry eyes looking up at him as you put your mouth on his...

"Hizashi, for someone who's entire Quirk is based on sound, you are so damn tonedeaf," Aizawa cut his thoughts loose with this retort.

"Woah, easy there," Mic continued, "I didn't mean to ruffle any feathers. If you guys aren't hooking up, how about I shoot my shot then?" He waggled his brows at you.

Aizawa gritted his teeth and his eye twitched. Like a deer in the headlights, stunned at this brazen show of complete and total assclownery, he sat still in his seat as Hizashi made fools of them both. The lanky devil just didn't know when to stop tap dancing on his last nerve.

Present Mic leaned over the table as you furrowed your brow in response.

"Wanna see why they call me Magic Mic?" He gave a wide grin with this question.

You made a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh.

"Why, did I pique your interest when you saw me bathing on the roof? Did my beauty and the moonlight overthrow you?"

"Bathing on the roof, you say!" Another waggle.

"Careful there, Sisyphus. That boulder's heavier than it looks," you chime back, scribbling something on a napkin.

Aizawa was amused at your quip. It was impressive how quick on your feet you were in conversation, and how well you handled yourself. He knew that Mic was blabbering on in the background, something about alternative chicks and their spicy attitudes, but he couldn't concentrate on anything other than you.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Aizawa," you stated while getting up from your seat, "here's my number. Text me and I'll send you my address so you can meet me at my place, okay?"

Aizawa swallowed the lump in his throat and then nodded in agreement. He took the napkin in his hand and noticed you put a little heart next to your number.

Fuck.

Please let this be a date.

————

The next morning, at 10am sharp, Aizawa reached the front door to your apartment. He didn't even need to look at the number when he saw the fall wreath, covered in leaves and mini pumpkins, suspended from its metal hook. He slicked back his raven hair with his palms, attempting to keep his locks captured in a ponytail, all the while his stomach churned in anticipation. He gave a knock at the door, and you were there almost immediately. Had you been waiting for him?

In reality, yes, you had been. You were ready by 9:30 and then paced around your room before you sat by the door and waited for him to show up. You gave him a big grin as you greeted him, admiring his forearms with his sleeves rolled up. You looked him over, half covered in the shade of your awning, hair pulled back, his trim figure cut well in his dark jeans and gray sweater. Oh my god, he even shaved! That was so cute to you. He shaved for your pumpkin patch adventure. You swooned and felt that tension in your belly build back up. It made you feel like a teenager again, having a crush like that. You kicked at some rocks on your porch in a bashful display.

God how he wanted to put his hands on you when he saw you stepping out of your doorway. You were wearing a burnt orange sundress, a black cardigan with pumpkins lining the bodice, thigh high black pantihose, with black Mary Janes and a wide-brimmed felt hat. You always knew what flattered your figure, what colors brought out your eyes and complimented your skintone. He felt so typical, like such a stereotype, because that sundress was doing something for him.

"You okay with me driving?" You asked, taking a step closer to him.

He tensed at the prospect of being touched by you, and nodded in agreement. Grabbing your keyfob, you pressed twice to start your vehicle, a completely black car with darkly tinted windows. It was very bold, very dark, and very you.

"You can mess with the volume however you'd like. I don't mind," you told him as you started flipping through your music on the car's touchscreen radio.

Aizawa took note of how eclectic your music was. You seemed to like songs with lots of bass and rumble, and you listened to plenty of Sisters of Mercy, but you also had music that took him off guard: hyper-pop, musical numbers, heavy metal--a smorgasbord of songs on a hodgepodge of a playlist. He could never quite pin you down. As soon as he thought he knew your next move, you pulled an Uno Reverse card, and it was enthralling. He liked a challenge.

He was captured by you as you settled on Love Me by The 1975 and enthusiastically sang along to every word, miming exaggerated faces when the beat picked up. You rolled the windows down and threw your hat in the back seat to feel the wind through your hair.

You glanced over at him briefly as you sang, smiling, glowing, just letting loose with him in a way that felt more intimate than he would've imagined a car ride could feel. Your hair flipped, twisting around your face in the breeze.

He noticed how careful you were with your car, how gingerly you braked at stoplights, and joked "I think my grandpa might actually drive faster than you do,"

"Hey," you replied "I pay a lot of money for this car," you felt a bit embarrassed tagging on the next part of "besides.. it's important to follow traffic laws."

He couldn't help but admire how pragmatic you were about this. You were so soft. Willing to stand up for yourself, but always making sure everyone else was safe. You had a hero heart.

You went back to singing to music, this time Can't Hold Me by Emily King. You always seemed so in your element when music was involved.

"You have a really nice voice," Aizawa stated without thinking. It rolled off of his tongue in an easy sort of way that didn't normally come naturally to him.

"Oh, thanks. It's part of my quirk I guess,"

"You have a quirk?" It was more of a statement than a question. He was pretty positive he'd already seen your quirk in action.

"Well, yeah; but I don't use it much. It's one of those quirks that when you tell people about it they think you're a villain," your voice trailed off a bit and he looked at you with one raised brow.

A sigh escaped your lips.

"If I sing a certain melody, I can make people do whatever I want. They become really pliable and easy to manipulate. But I can only use it on one person at a time, and it's only the one song, and you would know if I was using it," you tried your best to make sure he knew you weren't using it to make him talk to you, or to make him come with you today.

"Quirks are what you make of them. And I don't think that you would ever purposefully hurt someone, y/n. You're better than that,"

On impulse, upon parking the car at the pumpkin patch, you grabbed his hand with Eat Sleep Wake by Bombay Bicycle Club playing softly in the background. The first real physical contact you two had that wasn't accidental. It was warm, and sweet, and electric. Breathing felt like there was a weight on your chest when you realized what happened, and it caught in your throat when he squeezed your hand back.

Eat.

Sleep.

Wake.

Nothing but you.

God, please just kiss me, you thought. Kiss me. Better yet, take me into this pumpkin patch and peel these pantihose off with your teeth. You were getting to the point where all of this constant winding you up had you wanting him to fuck you absolutely stupid.

Aizawa felt warm, feverish. Like he was going to melt through the seat of the car and burn to cinders on the ground. He was smoldering like a pile of ash in your hand. Goddamn it was hard to concentrate now. Where was he at? Was there a world around the two of you? Did he even care? He wasn't sure if it was right to think of you like this, though, and it happened nearly every day since meeting you. That part of him had been lying dormant for what felt like years and now suddenly these feelings were coming for him with a vengeance. He wasn't sure what to do.

"We should.. we should grab some pumpkins. Do you... like the lumpy ones?"

Shit. Did he really just ask you that? God, you must have thought he was stupid.

But you didn't. You were eating this up.

"Dude. I love me a lumpy pumpkin," was your reply.

The two of you took in the crisp autumn air and October's bright blue sky as you sipped on a warm apple cider from the drink stand. Much to his initial disapproval, you finally got him to take a sip from your cup. His heart skipped a beat drinking from the same spout where your mouth had been just a few seconds prior. You took two small pumpkins from the display they had on top of some hay bales, slipped them into a big burlap tote bag, and then headed to the field to pick out bigger pumpkins for carving.

"Do you think frogs have friends?"

"I... what?"

He wasn't sure if you were being genuine with this question.

"Well, cows make friends, and.. I don't know, I was just thinking about how maybe when frogs start to get ready for the cold weather, they find another frog that they like, and then they hibernate next to them in the mud," your statement was matter-of-fact, "or I guess technically the frogs we have here go into a state of topor, not full hibernation. But still,"

Aizawa was taken aback at this topic. You were actually wondering about the loneliness of amphibians.

"Y/n, I don't think frogs get lonely. I doubt they have high enough brain functioning to care,"

"Or maybe they do, and we'll never know, because nobody stopped to find out,"

He enjoyed that you always spoke your mind. Even if someone didn't like what you had to say, you just started a conversation based on whatever thoughts you had in your head. You were smart, but whimsical. It was so easy to talk to you and have a logical dialogue without feeling like it was getting stale.

You kicked at rocks, marveled at the fall leaves, and had this general sense of wonder. Aizawa found it fascinating how dichotomous you were. You were kind of mysterious, but you still had this youthful charm about you. He found himself to be more apathetic than anything. It wasn't necessarily that he didn't see the beauty in the things around him, he just didn't tend to pay attention at all. He was always burning the candle at both ends and pushing himself to his absolute limits, so what was the point? Who cared of frogs had friends?

"I wish I shared your passion for life," he commented.

"My grandparents were like this, and they raised me, so I guess it rubbed off. Actually, they're kind of why I came here. My grandpa always spoke about how beautiful Okinawa was. After they passed, I jumped at the opportunity to come see Japan for myself,"

You hadn't talked about anything that wasn't skin deep in what seemed like an eternity, and you felt like he was really listening, processing your words.

"Oh!" You stopped in your tracks, "I can't believe I forgot to give you this,"

From the bottom of your burlap sack, you pulled out a bag of salty black licorice.

"This is for you,"

His favorite snack.

Aizawa reached out his hand and took it delicately, as if it were precious to him.

"How did you know?"

"I saw you eyeing some once at a corner store. When I saw they had some here, I had to get it for you. They make it in house, so I bet it's delicious!" You sounded so excited over a bag of licorice.

Feeling a bit silly over frogs and candy, you blushed, cheeks already slightly ruddy from all of the walking.

"But we should probably go back to picking out some pumpkins, I guess," your words came out much smaller than you intended them to.

His heart swelled. You were paying attention to him, too.

The gourds were all shapes and sizes, all the colors from striking persimmon to pale yellow, from perfectly round to as lumpy as the night was long.

Clearly, you picked the lumpiest.

Loading your goods into the car, a flash of color at another stand caught Aizawa's eye.

"You stay here. I'll be right back," he commanded.

"Okay. Just let me know if you want any help,"

The stand was full of handmade trinkets: wooden hair combs, decorative mirrors with widdled handles, and silk kimonos. One garment stood out to him--emerald green with goldenrod flowers patterned over it--that, for some reason, made him think of frogs. This would do nicely.

Upon his return, he found that he really wasn't sure how to give you a gift. This was certainly not his forte. He couldn't even remember the last time he gave someone a present. Then again, he couldn't recall that last time he had received one before this day, either. Besides, you were worth the uncomfortability.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't form. You looked slightly amused, which made him even more nervous.

"I have something for you. To repay you for the gift you gave me earlier," his voice uttered out much smaller than he remembered.

The joy that spread from cheek to cheek was practically tangible for him as he handed you the paper bag. Your eyes were alight like fireworks.

"You got me a present?"

You felt a fluttering in your chest. You didn't even care what it was, he explicitly thought of you, and that made you happy in earnest.

The container was compact enough that you figured there was some kind of candy to be retrieved from it, but you opened it to see green and yellow fabric. You were stunned when you recognized it from the stand you two had passed on your way out. It had to have been expensive.

"Aizawa.. this is too much. I-I can't accept this," you stammered.

"Yes you can. Like I said, it's for the licorice,"

"This isn't exactly in the same category as candy, though, I--"

"Just try it on," he interrupted you, his hand raised as if to stop any further protesting.

And you thought about protesting--you really did--but caved, knowing he wouldn't give up until you accepted it. Your attempts to dispute his gift would be futile. So you marveled at the silk garment, feeling its slick material between your fingers. You'd never owned something like this before. You took off your cardigan and draped the kimono over your body, savoring how soft and airy it was on your skin, feeling like a princess.

"I'm not sure if this is a color you like, so if you don't like it, we can go exchange it," his voice had a hushed tone.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

"No. No, it's perfect. I absolutely love it. Thank you so much, this was so sweet of you," your words rang out like a bell.

The breeze picked up and blew the soft locks of your hair as you stood there in your gown, picturesque, cottony clouds lining the skies.

You looked like a painting.

"Alright then," you said with vigor, "takoyaki is on me!"

————

When you returned home, you carved Aizawa's pumpkin together (a very classic orange pumpkin, perfect for Jack O Lanterns), swatting your cats off of the counter as they came to sniff at the seedy innards laid out on a sheet of parchment paper. You felt at home like this. You felt safe, content, like this is how life was meant to be.

You watched him as he placed the carved Jack O Lantern out on your porch, and took notice of the strands of raven hair that were falling out of his messy bun, delicately sweeping over his strong jaw and neck. The knot in your stomach returned, and with it came a sensation like you were on the downhill slope of a rollercoaster. It was a feeling of passion welling up inside of you, ready to tear open at your seams.

And you wanted more.

You wanted him to want you.

Worried that he might go home now that the sun had set, you asked if he would want to watch a movie with you. He was elated at the idea of cuddling up with you on the couch. How could he say no to that?

"Okay. What did you have in mind?"

"Have you ever watched Hocus Pocus?"

"No, never heard of it,"

"What?! It's a Halloween classic! I'll change into some house clothes and then we'll get started. Be right back, Shota,"

A chill ran down his spine, prickling the back of his neck at the sound of you saying his name. You called him Shota. And now you were comfortable enough with him to change into pajamas. He felt almost floaty.

Aizawa was expecting you to come out in sweatpants and a t-shirt, something comfy, something plain. He enjoyed the prospect of you coming out in soft pants and fuzzy socks. There was something so heartwarming and cozy about it that he--holy fucking shit.

You came out, as casual as humanly possible, in a pair of tiny little sleeping shorts and a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles t-shirt with no bra. The shirt was soft, but snug, and showed off every curve of your body through the semi-sheer fabric. He had already gotten a good look (or ten) at your ass in a nice pair of pants, but this.. were you trying to kill him? You were already all legs, and now the shorts... Aizawa scanned your body to see that you were wearing stockings that hugged your legs and made divots in the plush flesh of your upper thighs. They were Ninja Turtle green and woven like a tubesock.

Of course you were wearing these fuck me socks. That way, you could definitely say that you were completely covered from head to toe, that these were normal house clothes. Nothing here but regular old pajamas. And look, see, you totally did like green!

Your couch was small, but Aizawa sat on one end, hoping that you would sit alllll the way on the other end so that he could curl up as much as possible and you wouldn't see... things. But you weren't having it. You wanted to be able to cut the tension with a knife. You wanted to make sure this sexual frustration was palpable until it drove him to action. So you snuggled up next to him and rested your head on his chest.

He took notice that the shorts nearly disappeared when you sat down, and thought about what they might look like if you were bending over. Your tits looked great through your clothes, but your ass drove him wild. He wished for the TV to mess up somehow so you would have to get down on all fours to fix it, maybe even spread your legs just enough that your sex would peek over the side of the material, sopping and messy and begging for him.

Oh lord Jesus, Vishnu, Thor, whoever the fuck was up there just give him strength. Give his waistband extra elasticity and give his poor heart a rest so that maybe you wouldn't hear it pounding through his chest. But you did hear it. You knew exactly what you were doing when you placed your hand on his thigh and traced your fingertips down to his knee while you stared ahead at the TV screen.

Under the guise of laughing at a witch riding a vacuum cleaner, you squeezed his leg, and he jumped in his seat.

Oh.

This was torture for him.

And you liked that.

A lot.

He made a pathetic attempt to stealthily lean into you, just enough so that he could get a better whiff of your hair. You smelled like vanilla and something a little floral and spicy, like a jasmine rice desert. The thought crossed his mind that you might taste just as sweet.

"Doing okay, Shota?" Your voice this time was chesty, sensual, almost like an invitation rather than a question, and you could feel him shudder in response.

There it was again. Shota. He fucking loved the way his name dripped from your lips like honey. He nodded in agreement and you patted his leg to let him know you felt the nod.

You could feel your shorts heating up and your breathing changing pace when you heard him let out little sputters of air at your touch. It was intoxicating, hearing him get excited, smelling the sweat building between the two of you in this blissful hell of your own making.

Small beads of liquid made a wet spot up near his waistband while he took in your body heat, trying his best to focus on the screen and not the friction of you against him, or the fact that he could see your nipples plainly through your shirt. Readjusting yourself, you stretched and let out a whine in the process, and your elbow brushed up against something in his lap.

With a quick grunt, he stood up suddenly, and said "I need to use the restroom. I'll be right back,"

You gave him an "okay", and paused the movie for him. Maybe it was just in your imagination, but you could swear you saw a tent in his pants when he got up.

What you wouldn't give to toy with him for just a little while longer.

He shuts the door behind him slowly, calmly, before he's pawing at the buttons of his pants. A curse leaves his lips as he wrestles his leaking member from the confines of his boxers. 

"Little fucking cocktease," he grits, burying the words into his lower lip. 

God, he just couldn't take it anymore. He thought about you moaning, whining, mewling into his ear, your bodies entangling. How would he take you? If he had the option, he thinks he'd really like to watch you ride his cock, see the look on your face when you take all of him inside of you.

"Gonna have you begging for it. Fuck, do you even know what you do to me?" His voice trails into a groan, and he folds forward, bucking into his hand and holding onto the sink to steady himself.

A few whispers of your name fall from his lips, and he swipes at the slit of his aching length, smearing his precum along his shaft for lubrication. He's close. In an embarrassingly short amount of time, he's already feeling that knot within him frayed, about to snap. Just a few more strokes and he's jerking back his head, ropes of his release now dripping across his palm.

He finished in record time, expecting to have a sense of relief, but only finding that he craved more. Guilt took ahold of him when the thought crossed his mind that he shouldn't be thinking of you this way. This was so shameful, what he just did, making his hand all sticky from thinking of you. He rinsed his face with cool water to get rid of some of the sweat, and exited, stating that he needed to head home due to not feeling well.

Your heart sank, and the realization hit you that you may have made him uneasy with your forwardness. Maybe he didn't like you that way after all. You hoped that you hadn't just ruined things between the two of you.

Aizawa didn't want to hurt your feelings, and he could tell that he probably did; but he needed to get out of your apartment before he bent you over the couch.

So he left your place after an entire 12 hours together, beating himself up for not making a move, harboring resentment for his own lack of initiative. He was used to coming after villains, but this whole "love" thing really scared him. Love? He mulled the word over in his head. Worried it between his teeth. You two hadn't spent a single day without seeing each other in like two months. And he sure as hell didn't see himself picking out pumpkins with Hizashi any time soon.

He laid there in bed, trying his best to fall asleep, but the day just replayed in his head on a loop. His mattress was normally soft and welcoming, something that could easily lull him to sleep, but tonight it felt empty. Tonight, he felt alone. Until his phone buzzed from his nightstand.

You: is it too soon to text you?

Him: it's never too soon for you to talk to me.

You: good :) I was worried when you left in such a hurry.

You: and I miss you already.

Aizawa sat up in bed after reading your most recent message. You... missed him. He wasn't sure if he was reading that right. The blue light from his phone illuminated his face, now standing apart from the inky blackness of his room. He could feel you radiating from it.

Him: maybe you should stop by my place tomorrow afternoon then.

You: I'd really like that.

You: good night, Shota. <3

Him: see you soon.

————

He made sure to take care of himself in the shower before the next afternoon, not wanting a repeat of the previous night. Best case scenario, now he would last longer if you two ended up fooling around. He even double checked that Eri was in the dorms at UA again today. That was just wishful thinking, though. Sex these days would probably only come from pity for him. Poor washed-up hero, missing an eye, missing a leg. That's the last thing he needed right now.

He cleaned up around his apartment, wiping down the counters and making the area look welcoming for you. Why did he want to impress you so badly? Ugh, this was so embarrassing. He never worried about what people thought of him in any other scenario, but now, here he was, fluffing his brand new throw pillows and applying cologne to his neck and chest.

You knocked on the door, straightening the skirt of your dress, the same one you were wearing the morning you two first met. Aizawa answered the door in a gray t-shirt and black sweatpants, his hair loose and his eyes heavy-lidded when he looked down at you. That dress again. Clingy, short, nipped at the waist to show off your curves. Christ, you were beautiful. He welcomed you in, the smell of bergamot wafting from him.

His apartment was bigger than yours by quite a bit. It had a floating island in the kitchen, slate colored walls, a black sectional positioned in the living room atop a white shag rug, and circular lights that were recessed within the ceiling.

"Wow, your place is so nice. Shit. I'm sorry I made you come to my hovel last night," you partially joked, impressed with how well his home was put together.

"That's stupid. I liked being at your place,"

You saw something moving out of the corner of your eye through the doorway of the other room.

"Is that a punching bag?" You asked with a wry smile.

"Gotta keep myself in shape. Want to give it a go?" His voice was low, almost challenging you to take him up on the offer.

"Oh, I don't know. I lift weights but I don't really do a lot of cardio. I'd just end up humiliating myself, honestly," you said sheepishly.

"Come on, y/n, spar with me. I'll go easy on you,"

"Okay, okay," you gave in and walked toward the next room, which you could see upon closer inspection was full of gym equipment. You felt out of your element, but you were willing to make yourself look like a fool if it meant he was enjoying himself.

You gave the bag a light punch as Aizawa held onto it, half afraid that you would mess it up somehow, or maybe even break your damn hand. It felt like it was full of some kind of particulate. Maybe sand? Oh god, you probably looked like some kind of lazy sack, not even knowing how to punch a fucking bag.

"I know you can do better than that. You've got more power in you. Come on,"

You punched again.

"Harder. Don't hold back!" He growled.

That was really fucking sexy, actually, and now you were a little distracted. You balled your hand into a fist, made sure your thumb was facing outside, and used all of this pent up frustration to wallop the daylights out of the bag. Your knuckles made contact with a padded thud, and you let out a small grunt.

"Atta girl," he praised you, his voice like whisky.

God, hearing him say that was like a dopamine hit. You were disoriented. You were already clumsy, and now your brain felt like a can of cranberry sauce splattered out onto a plate.

Aizawa stepped away from the bag, a terse expression plastered onto his face.

"Now act like I'm coming after you and try to pin me. Remember, it doesn't matter that I'm bigger than you. Use strategy to overpower me,"

You mustered up all of your strength, all of your courage, and leapt toward his torso. He didn't try to block you, so you knew he was going easy on you... but you also knew you didn't do it right when you went off to the side and started to veer straight for the wall. He grabbed you by both wrists and wedged himself between your legs in order to cushion your fall, and you landed upright, straddling him as he lay on his back.

You were both panting, eyes dilated, a wildness boiling within you like animals. He let go of your wrists and your hands softly found their rest on his chest as it heaved.

"Y/n," he laughed, "that was awful,"

You rolled your eyes and shifted your weight into less of a stiff position.

"I told you I was bad at this. I am a lover, not a fighter," you pressed your hand to your chest as you spoke. 

Moving ever so slightly on top of him, you saw his eye widen, his lips parted to let a small gasp escape from them. Panic has set in. 

"Get up. Please," his tone is highly-strung and fearful.

He looks genuinely terrified, scrambling beneath you, the only reason you're still in his lap like this due to his apprehension to hurt you by accident.

"Shota, wha--" your question is cut off by the feeling of something poking against your clothed sex.

Oh. 

Oh.

A red hue painted his entire face at the realization of the situation he was in, his blood pulsing through his body rapidly, the sound of it rushing in his ears.

"Why," you said breathily "don't you want me?"

Overstimulated, his brain didn't process what you'd just said to him.

Your lungs feel like they're about to lunge straight out of your chest, your core aching to be filled. You'll have to make sure that he really gets the point. Now was the time to be honest with him, maybe even be a little dirty. It's now or never.

"I want to know.. I mean.." talking felt hard. Your blood supply seemed starved from your brain.

"Do you touch yourself when you think of me?"

He was trembling like a leaf beneath you, caged in by the plush of your thighs. Was this a trick question? Yes, he just fucked himself to you this morning, AND last night in YOUR bathroom. Is that what he was supposed to say? He swallowed thickly, clamoring to gather up some kind of sentient thought to say to you.

"I do," you filled the gap of silence, "I think of you that way. A lot, actually,"

You ground your pelvis up and down his length, the fabric of his pants rough against him, eliciting a grunt through his gritted teeth.

"I.. f-fuck, I-I dunno how to.. answer that," he's been reduced to this mumbling mess on the floor, that silver tongue suppressed by the sweet press of your warmth to his cock.

You took his shaking hand and placed it between your thighs, right on the dampness that was spreading at your center, sopping through what little material covered them. 

"I want you, Shota. I want you bad," your words were like poetry spouting from your lips.

He rubbed you through your wet panties, soaked and clinging to you like a second skin. Were you this wet for him? He delights in the way your breath hitches, how you squirm atop him, your eyes heavy and lustful. Shota gives one last languid stroke up the lace and then pulls them to the side for easier access to your clit. He rubs light circles around it and watches you writhe, taking in the noises you were making, so painfully hard he felt as though he would cum in his pants just from watching you. He stopped his teasing and placed both hands on your hips, the pair of you frenzied for more.

You crashed your lips to his, both of you giving in to a hungry kiss, passionate and blistering with heat, tongues swirling and teeth clashing. You cupped his face in your hands, pulling him into you, starved for his taste. He keened into your touch as if it would soon disappear. Leaving the rough stubble of his cheeks only to grab a handful of his mussed hair, you tugged at it, causing him to moan into your mouth, and you swallowd down each noise greedily. He explored your body with haste, grabbing your ass, sinking the pads of his fingers into your skin. You could feel him throbbing underneath you, so you palmed him through his pants, and with a swift jerk, he threw his head back onto the floor, not even caring to register the pain of it.

"Fuck. Y/n. If you keep going..."

You tugged at the waist of his pants, then dragged featherlight touches across his exposed cock teasingly. He felt you smile against his skin as you nuzzled the crook of his neck, and he lets out a muffled groan that tapered off into a high-pitched whine, desperate and needy.

He let out an involuntary whimper, almost pitiful with how much yearning was within it.

"You gonna cum for me already? Hmm?"

That was it.

He couldn't fucking take it anymore.

Something within him snapped and a growl poured from him, rumbling up from somewhere deep in his chest.

With hurried hands, he pulls your dress over top your head, revealing that you were wearing nothing but lacy black panties underneath. You were stunning. Like a Greek statue of Aphrodite herself. He was never able to fully imagine your naked form before, and this was a perfect frame of reference for later. He wanted nothing more than to get absolutely drunk off of you. And he gets you all to himself. He can't hardly believe his luck.

"Tell me what you want me to do to you," his voice was raw and saturated with desire, a gravel to it, burning like whisky.

"I want you to touch me," you murmur, suddenly feeling shy in the sweltering heat of his gaze.

"Touch you?" Aizawa said with a chuckle, "I'm going to devour you,"

Before you were given the chance to react, he bucked into you, then slid you from his lap and onto the floor, gripping your underwear and throwing them off on your way down. He took off his shirt expeditiously to reveal his muscular form, and you admire the lines that bisect his abdomen, eyes nearly rolling into your skull when they land at the tent in his pants. He looks big. Like, concerningly big. You ran your fingers across the scars on his chest, which gave an almost tickling sensation, all the way down to the hair that trailed from his naval to his pants. He was beautiful. So fit that he looked like he could play himself in a movie.

Casting the clothing aside, he lays you flat onto the floor, kissing from your lips, to your neck, to your nipple where he sucked and flicked his tongue, using his free hand to caress the other, groping hungrily at your plush flesh. You moaned, breathy and meek, at his touch. Separating from you, his pupil was blown out as your pheromones hit him in the face, and he pulled your legs apart to fully expose you.

"Look at your pretty little pussy,"

He slipped a digit inside of you and did a curling motion until he found the spot that made you whimper underneath him, watched as your face went from shocked to a look of pleading for more, lashes fluttering.

He clicked his tongue.

"And look at you. So fucking needy. So ready for me to take you,"

He removed his finger and used it to play with your clit, making waves of pleasure shoot through your body, a white-hot coil tightening in your core just above where he was touching.

"Sh-Shota... please, fuck me," you begged, nearly mewling.

He hissed through his teeth, peering down at you as if you were prey. The look on his face is wolfish, starving, nearly pained to be holding himself back. There's a wilderness within him that begs to be let loose. You want nothing more than to be destroyed by it, left a carnal mess upon the floor. 

"Oh, I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to fuck you until you can't even sit without thinking of me," he taps your clit with his fingertips, "But first, I'm going to make you cum on my tongue," he was serious with his words, meticulous, making sure you knew exactly what he had planned for you. Sweet, slow burning anticipation sent tingles up and down your spine.

He put your legs on his shoulders and went back to the spot inside of you that made you cry, this time sucking on your clit in tandem, fully encapturing it within his lips. Your mouth was now agape in a breathy scream as you clamp down on his fingers, moving your hips in time with him, riding waves of pleasure as he brings you closer to the edge. He lets out an appreciative groan as you say his name, the noises coming out of you so lewd and sinful that you hope the neighbors don't call someone for a wellness check.

Aizawa absentmindedly pressed himself against the floor, nearly frantic for some kind of touch while he watched you squirming beneath him, but it does little to quell the ache he has in his center. You tasted like sweet tarts and made these lustful gasps, and it drove him absolutely mad to know he was doing that to you, that these reactions were from his own touch.

"Say my name," he speaks this phrase into the throbbing bud at your apex, and you shiver, close to careening off of the edge he'd just brought you to. 

"Shota.. fuck, keep going, please," you mewl, rolling your hips. 

He nips at your inner thigh, velvet flesh pillowing between his teeth, and then drags the length of his tongue up your clit in one torturously long stroke. 

"Louder. I want everyone to know who's about to make you cum," the steel in his gaze is sharp enough to slice you. 

So you oblige him, moaning his name, chanting it like a mantra as he continues to lap at you once more. You can feel the pressure building, building, building until it finally spills over like a dam. He moans at the realization, feeling your pussy spasm under his tongue.

"Oh my god.. Oh fuck, Shota!" You cry out for him as you melt into his mouth.

He's breathless as he pulls himself away from you, mouth slick, still slipping his fingers in and out of you in an allowance to ride out the rest of your orgasm. He looks feral. Like he could tear into you. Destroy you.

He drags his cheek across your thigh.

"Good girl," he grunts, "good fucking girl,"

You look up at him with your mouth partially open, your eyes heavy with want, and with one fell swoop you sit up and pull down his sweatpants to reveal his throbbing cock, wet and dripping from the tip. You take the whole thing into your mouth, sucking, swirling your tongue, cranking your hand around his shaft like you're ready to milk the soul straight out of him. He gasps, moving his hips to pump into your mouth as you open wider, holding out your tongue so you can take in as much of his length as possible. He brought you closer until you were practically flush against him, all the while you were committing the look on his face to memory.

You can tell this is about to break him, so you tighten your grip in a pulsating pattern, moaning on his length to send vibrations through him. His movements are becoming erratic, fervent, and you cannot fucking wait to see him come apart at your doing. You run the flat of your tongue across a particularly sensitive spot along his shaft, your arousal building once more when you see the way he pinches his brows together, how he ruts into your mouth like some inexperienced virgin. You just feel too fucking good.

Suddenly, he pulls himself from your mouth with a vulgar pop, and you're gasping for sweet breaths of air after some of the sloppiest head you've given in your life.

"I knew you'd be good at that," Aizawa chokes out, his dick bobbing in front of you, "but we're not done yet,"

He lightly pushed you back onto the ground and placed your ankles up onto his shoulders, putting his tip right up against your entrance. His muscles twitched in anticipation and you reveled in his godlike form.

"Is this okay?" He asked you, gently.

You laughed a bit at the question.

With all the heat and want you can channel, you look up at him from your place on the floor and rasp "ruin me, Shota,"

He gives you a wicked smile, one you've never seen him wear before, and pushes himself inside of your aching pussy, holding onto your leg for leverage. You can feel yourself stretching to accommodate him, a bit unprepared for his full girth inside of you. It doesn't take long for you to start moving along with him though, and he begins to thrust harder, pounding into you like his life depended on it.

Biting your lower lip, you throw your head back, attempting to keep from screaming as he delves into you. He removes his hand from your leg to grab your jaw, and locking eyes says, "Eyes on me. I want to see the fucking look on your face when I make you cum,"

This coaxes a moan from you, and he gives a gutteral response to his cock being squeezed.

"Good girl. You're taking me so well. God, you're so tight, fuck," his voice is husky and deep.

Your cunt hugs him tighter with every word.

He needed more.

Aizawa takes his free hand and starts to rub your clit in circles, still sensitive from your previous orgasm, and you can feel that knot in your stomach forming again. You're about to come undone already, and he can feel you clamping around him like a vice.

"Fuck that feels so good," your voice is heady and needful.

His pacing became erratic once more and his ministrations on your clit became almost desperate. He was barely holding on, whimpering, sweat dotting his brow.

"I knew you were fucking teasing me. Coming out in those tiny shorts. Know what I shoulda done? Should've fucked you right there on the couch. Should've bred your tight little cunt," he leans down to fill some of the gap between you, a few tendrils of his raven hair falling to cling to his face.

He pistons into you harder, "Swear to god, I'm gonna fuck every single thought out of that pretty little head. Wanna tease me like that? Take your fucking punishment. I.. f-fuck!" He feels you come unraveled all over his cock as you ride him from there on the floor, making sounds that hitch in your throat like ragged bleats. He made note of your blissed-out expression and then let out a sharp gasp, your walls almost too snug for him to handle.

You whined in a small voice, still finishing, your gaze not breaking when you tell him, "make a mess in me,"

That's all it took for him to lose it, giving into his pleasure and allowing himself to fill you up with what felt like gallons of cum, letting out strangled moans as his entire body throbs.

Panting, he pulls out of you, watching as his release leaks from between your legs. He wasn't usually interested in sex at all after getting off, but seeing you like this, glowing with sweat and hormones, covered in him. It made him weak. He pulls apart your cunt with his thumbs, watches your glistening sex twitch, cum dripping. He's going to remember this if he ever needs to get off in two seconds flat.

The two of you lay in the floor together, floating, riding the high in a breathless haze.

"Be my girlfriend, y/n," Aizawa was the first to speak.

You were taken aback.

"What?"

You never thought him to be the type to be alright with labels.

"I like you. Not just in the way that I want to have sex with you. I want to make love to you. And I want you to be my girlfriend. Will you be with me?"

You ran your fingers across his jawline as a warm smile spread across your face.

"I'll be your girlfriend. But there are stipulations,"

"Anything. Whatever you want, it's yours," Aizawa hopes that his longing isn't too obvious, that he isn't too eager, but another part of him doesn't even care anymore.

"You have to be my boyfriend," your words are like a breeze through a windchime.

His eye takes purchase in your face as he leans into you, the kiss he offers you this time languid, lazy, loving instead of a mess of teeth and lips.

I love you, he thought, pulling away enough that your foreheads touch. God, how I love you. Just allow me to worship at the altar of your body once more.

Before you can stop yourself, and as if you can read his mind, you speak to him in a voice that's almost a whisper, "I think I love you,"

He looks dumbfounded, awestruck.

He finds his voice enough to say, simply, "I love you," followed by a kiss pressed to your nose.

The day that follows is soft and halcyon. You bask in one another like the afterglow is your lifeline, here in your own private world, all stardust and warmth. You don't know what the future holds. You stopped living in a world of 'what ifs' a long time ago. But you know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, you'll be there with him.

And he'll be there with you.

Like he always is.

[pedrospatch]

loved her first

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: It's been two and a half years since you and Joel left your baby daughter in Bill and Frank's care; when a surprise thunderstorm strands the two of you in Lincoln for the night, you unexpectedly witness Joel bond with her.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. hints at Frank's deteriorating health condition, he is not bound to a wheelchair quite yet; glimpses of girldad!Joel, babygirl name reveal, angst, mention of Sarah. time jump to 2023, takes place a few months prior to Ellie coming into their lives.

word count 5.5k

A/N: um...this turned out to be more angsty than planned.

April, 2023

You watched her as she twirled around in front of the flower bushes, a small smile tugging lightly at the corners of your mouth.

Frank had mentioned before that she absolutely adored flowers; he’d also told you about how she loved being outdoors and how she would gladly, happily, abandon all of her dolls and other toys in exchange for frolicking outside. You’d had a difficult time believing him on that, but there you were, sitting just a few feet away, witnessing first hand with your very own eyes that it was actually true. She seemed to be having the time of her life spinning around and around in front of the array of colorful roses, petunias, and begonias that Bill and Frank had planted around the house right after the winter season had come and gone. It was so incredibly innocent, so endearingly pure, a beautiful sight that you already knew you would be constantly replaying on a loop in your memory for the rest of your life—memories of her were all you had. It wasn’t enough for you, though, not even fucking close; the memories of your daughter you took home were what kept you from losing your sanity, but they were nothing compared to what you actually wanted, which was to be her mother.

Because you were her mother.

You held back a small sigh, your gaze still locked on every part of her.

She wore the sweetest, springtime dress that surely must have come from the boutique—light sky blue with an intricate eyelet embroidery, a sash made from the same exact fabric tied around her waist into an adorably perfect bow at the back of it. A pair of darling, strappy white ballet flats adorned her tiny feet, and although Frank had put her into a soft, knitted white cardigan to help keep her warm against a sudden and unexpected chilly afternoon breeze that swept through the town, the child had sneakily shrugged herself out of it when she noticed he wasn’t paying attention. Noticing the dark, gloomy clouds that began to slowly but surely make their way over the neighborhood, you stood up from the table and walked over to the spot on the front lawn, right beside the porch, where she had discarded her cardigan.

Picking it up, you lightly dusted it off and made sure it was clean. You then called out to her, gently. “Hey.” You smiled as she stopped in her tracks mid-spin, looking over at you with curiosity. You beckoned her over with your hand. “Come here, sweet girl.”

She skipped over to you, and you instinctively lowered yourself to her eye level as you spoke to her.

“The sun is gone.” You pointed up towards the skies. “That means it’s time for you to put this on so you don’t get cold. Okay?”

She wrinkled her little nose, but agreed, “Okay.” She held her arms up and out to you, as if to tell you to put it on for her.

You helped her back into it, though you left it unbuttoned so as not to cover up her pretty dress. “There we go. Don’t take it off again, okay? At least not while we’re outside.” You noticed a slight look of mischief cross her features and playfully pointed your index finger at her. “I am being so serious, young lady. Promise me that you won’t take it off?”

“I won’t,” she swore. Though she spoke fairly clearly now, she still had hints of toddler pronunciation; she could enunciate several words but she was still learning to properly talk. “Promise I won’t take it off.”

You reached out, briefly touching her soft cheek. “That’s a good girl,” You murmured, letting your thumb sweet across her satin skin. Every single part of you longed for even more contact with her, you yearned with every fucking fiber in your entire being to take her into your arms and hold her close; however, there was a very fine line that was not to be crossed, much less when Bill and Frank were sitting just a few feet away. You gave her cheek a light, teasing pinch and finally found it in you to withdraw your hand away from her face.

She grinned at you and a deep, prominent dimple appeared in her left cheek. You’d first noticed it during your visit on her first birthday.

There had always been something new for you to notice during each visit; a new tooth, an additional inch to her height, the way her face was no longer as round and pudgy as it had been when she was an infant. This time around, it was her hair that had caught your attention. It fell in long, dark brown waves to just about the middle of her back.

Her voice broke into your train of thought. “Can I go play now?”

You nodded and rose to your feet. “Of course, sweet girl. Just be very careful, alright?”

“I will.” She bobbed her head up and down at you and then went right back to her twirling, letting out an adorable giggle at the way the skirt of her dress swayed along with her movement.

You made your way back over to the table and took your seat. Picking up your glass of red wine, you took a quick sip before glancing over at Frank and remarking, “Her hair’s gotten really long.” You took another sip and then set your glass down, abandoning it in favor of the white pearl that hung from the silver chain around your neck. Holding it gingerly in your hand, you thought back to the day Joel had given it to you a little over two years ago. Presenting you with your daughter’s birthstone to carry with you had to have been one of the most loving, incredible things that he’d ever done for you. It was your most prized and cherished possession and although he didn’t like you wearing it outside of the apartment, it’d been a year since the last time you had taken it off. Anyone who tried to jump you for it would get a blade lodged into their skull. “Has she had her first haircut yet?”

“Nope. She refuses to let me anywhere near her with a pair of shears. As soon as she sees them in my hand, she runs,” Frank explained. He offered you a small, fatigued smile. He’d briefly mentioned to you the night before he hadn’t been feeling all too well over the last few days, but he still insisted that you and Joel still make the trip to Lincoln for lunch. “She calls it her princess hair—she said she wants to grow it as long as Rapunzel’s.”

You hummed. “Long hair suits her,” You told him after a minute. “Doesn’t it, Joel?”

You were met with no response and turned to glance at Joel.

He sat beside you at the table, sipping silently on his glass of wine; he hadn’t seemed to have heard you, and for once, it wasn’t because the hearing in his right ear was failing him. Joel hadn’t heard you because he was too distracted. His eyes were fixed intently on the toddler, and even when you reached out and touched his arm in an attempt to get his attention, his gaze remained latched onto her. He looked on with a mixture of different, conflicting emotions—of them all, it was sadness that took center stage. Joel often tried to keep his own feelings under wraps, for your sake, more than anything. He was your partner and he was your protector, he was your shoulder to lean on and the glue that, despite the circumstances, held everything together somehow.

He kept it all from crumbling down. For you, always for you.

You appreciated Joel trying to hold strong for you, but you wished he wouldn’t, not when you knew he was hurting too—hurting over Sarah and hurting over the daughter that was right there in front of him, but whose life he was missing out on. She was growing quickly, changing so fucking much each and every time he saw her, and he could hardly stand that he wasn’t around to witness it. Glimpses of her and her life were all that you and Joel were given, and you know that killed him as much as it killed you.

“Gracie!” Bill said her name in a scolding tone. He’d been sitting in his chair with his back to her, but he knew exactly what she was up to; he had developed something of a sixth sense when it came to her. “You just had lunch, you’re going to make yourself sick if you don’t cut that out! You’d better come and sit your little butt down right now or it’s a timeout for you, missy!”

She stopped for a second, smirked at his back, and then continued to twirl around.

Joel snorted into his wine, amused by her rebelliousness.

“Honey, come on. Be good and listen to daddy.” Frank glanced tiredly over his shoulder. “You don’t want to make yourself dizzy, do you?”

Gracie stopped and let out a teeny, frustrated huff; just seconds later, a white butterfly garnered her attention and she took off across the front lawn, chasing after it.

“Jesus,” Joel muttered, shaking his head. He set his wine glass down on the table and leaned back into his chair. “Does she ever get tired? I’m exhausted just from watchin’ her run around.”

“She’s been so energetic lately,” Frank said. He picked up his fork and pushed his vegetables around on his plate; you’d noticed that he had hardly eaten any of his meal. “Sometimes we can hardly keep up with her. But the bright side of letting her run around is that when bedtime comes around, she’s just about all tuckered out. Isn’t she, Bill?”

Bill scoffed. “If we’re lucky. The kid’s like the damn Energizer Bunny.”

You giggled. Looking over at Gracie, you noticed that she was in one of the bushes and your smile faded slightly. “Oh, um, she’s—” You stopped and simply nodded your head over in her direction, worried that she would get into the roses and accidentally prick herself with a thorn. 

Bill looked over his shoulder. He sighed, “She’s digging in the flowers again, Frank.”

“Oh Gracie, honey please don’t pick the flowers—”

But it was too late.

She stepped back from the bush, clutching a tiny handful of Frank’s beloved white begonias. She then ran over to her parents; she first handed a flower to Frank and then one to Bill, who, despite trying his best to keep a stern face, cracked the tiniest of smiles as he accepted it from her.

“It’s so hard to put her in time out when she does things like this,” Frank chuckled, shaking his head. He smoothed her hair back from her face, lovingly tucking it behind her ear. “You’re just the most innocent little troublemaker, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

Gracie gave him a tiny nod, and he let his hand drop from her hair as she turned around and walked around the table towards you. Falling into step beside your chair, she held up a flower for you.

Your entire body radiated with a pleasant warmth as you took it from her. Taking the side of her face into the palm of your hand, you leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on her cheek. “Thank you, sweet girl. I’m going to keep this forever and ever.” And you would. You planned on pressing it into a book the moment you arrived back in the QZ.

She smiled at you and then she let her gaze flicker curiously over to Joel. You could see her debating it over in her mind—besides the polite little hello that Frank would push her to say whenever you two came over, Gracie rarely ever interacted with him. She wasn’t afraid of him, but even at the tender age of two, she could sense the man’s quiet and serious nature and she knew to keep her distance. It was something of an unspoken, mutual agreement between the two of them; Joel always kept his distance from her too.

After a minute, she finally plucked up some courage and squeezed past you. She went up to the side of Joel’s chair and placed her tiny hand on his bare forearm, giving it a gentle pat as if to call for his attention.

You could almost feel the way he momentarily froze, stiffening beneath her touch. 

“Gracie, don’t—” Bill started to say, however Frank held a hand up to stop him.

“Wait, Bill,” he said, quietly. “Let her.”

“Here,” Gracie uttered softly, holding out the last begonia to him.  

Joel’s heart had all but leapt up into his throat. His fingers trembled ever so slightly as he lifted a hand and accepted it. When he spoke, he sounded almost breathless. “Thank you.”

“It’s pretty,” she told him, shyly nodding at the flower now in his hand.

“Very pretty,” he agreed. He paused briefly, then touched it to the tip of it to her nose. “Just like you.”

Gracie beamed at him.

Just like you and your momma, he wanted to tell her. Of course, he knew better than to say such a thing out loud in front of Bill and Frank.

“Gracie, honey, what do you say when someone says something nice to you?” Frank prompted her from across the table.

She looked at him, then bashfully turned back to Joel. “Thank you.”

Before anyone could say anything else, a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, and seconds later came the crashing sound of thunder.

Startled by the loud noise, Gracie let out a small yelp and found herself in between Joel’s legs, tugging desperately at his denim shirt. Before his mind and body could even make the connection, he picked her up and hoisted her into his lap and she buried her face into the crook of his neck, a small whimper escaping her.

Bill and Frank exchanged a look of complete shock with one another.

Even you watched on with your lips parted in absolute bewilderment.

You’d only ever seen her in his arms once—when she’d been a newborn.

“It’s alright darlin’,” Joel soothed her, lightly patting her back. “It’s nothin’ but a little bit of thunder. It’s tellin’ us that the rain is comin’ soon, and you know what that means?”

Reluctantly, Gracie pulled her face out of his neck and looked up at him with her dark brown eyes—the very same dark brown eyes she’d inherited from him. “What?”

“More flowers,” he whispered to her, giving her a small grin.

“Really?” she squeaked excitedly.

“Oh, speaking of the rain, here come those April showers.” Frank held out his hand, having felt the first drop. Before he could even utter the warning for everyone to move inside, it suddenly began to pour; the rain came down hard and fast, as if someone up in the clouds had turned on a garden hose. “Everyone in the house!”

Bill helped him out of his chair, slipping an arm around his back. You noticed him struggle alone to help Frank and quickly hurried around the table, taking his other arm, and the both of you helped him up the lawn towards the house.

Joel stood up with Gracie still in his arms; he hurried towards the house behind the rest of you, using his hand to shield her from the rain as best as he could manage, though she ended up getting soaked, just like everyone else.

Once inside, he set her down on her feet. Another round of thunder struck, rattling the walls of the house. 

Gasping, Gracie threw her arms around Joel’s leg.

Bill raised an eyebrow, pushing his drenched hair away from his face. “I’ve never seen her get this close to you before.”

“She’s just spooked, that’s all.” Joel cleared his throat awkwardly and reached down, carefully peeling her off of him. He placed his hand on her back and gently nudged her towards him. “Go to daddy.”

“Well, that’s a nice lunch ruined,” Frank sighed heavily. “Gracie, let’s get you upstairs and changed into dry clothes.” He reached down to pick her up, but struggled lifting her into his arms, a problem that you had never seen him have before; a bizarre expression crossed his face and he turned to Bill. “Help me carry her upstairs to her room?”

Bill nodded, picking her up. “Come on, kiddo.”

Crestfallen, Frank watched him as he carried her up the staircase.

“Frank? Are you okay?” You couldn’t help but ask, placing a hand on his arm.

He nodded, forcing a small smile. “I’m fine. I think I just need some rest.” He noticed the skeptical expression on your face and before you could ask him again, he changed the subject. “You two are more than welcome to stay and wait for the storm to pass before heading out.”

Several hours later, and the torrential downpour continued on with no signs of stopping any time soon. 

“We’ll be fine,” You assured Frank as you began looking in your pack for your windbreaker. You found it in the top zipper, and pulled it out; although it would hardly do anything to shield you from the cold and heavy rainfall, it would have to do. “Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve been out and about in a storm like this.”

“Nonsense,” he said, taking the jacket out of your hands. After taking a long nap earlier that evening, he appeared to be in better spirits. He still appeared tired, but he seemed to be moving around with more ease, an indication that he had gained a bit of his strength back. “You two can spend the night down here in the guest bedroom.”

“That’s very kind, Frank. But Bill wouldn’t like that.”

“I already talked him into it. He’s not too happy, but as usual, he’ll get over it.” Frank saw you about to protest and he held up a hand. “Can you just make this easy and graciously accept the offer please?”

You chuckled. You had known him for a few years now and you knew the man was as stubborn as stubborn could be. “Alright, alright. We’ll stay the night.”

“Good.” Frank smiled and handed you your jacket back. “The guest bedroom is down the hall, second door on the left. Make yourselves right at home. If you need anything, just let me know, alright?”

Joel nodded, taking your hand in his. “We appreciate this a whole lot, Frank. Thank you.”

“Of course. You two get some sleep, alright?” He bid the two of you a final goodnight before disappearing upstairs.

With your hand still in his, Joel led the way down the hallway towards the bedroom. He opened the door and flipped on the lights; the room was on the smaller side, but it was still decently spacious, at least for you it was, especially when compared it to the tiny bedroom you and Joel shared with Tess in the QZ. Frank had furnished it with gorgeous antique furniture that you were almost certain he’d refurbished on his own. What really caught your eye, however, was the bed in the middle of the room; it was a large, queen sized bed decorated with a soft, red and gold duvet and matching pillows.

“I’m so used to that old, ripped mattress we have back at home,” You remarked with a small laugh.

Joel squeezed your hand. He was thrilled to have the chance to sleep in such a comfortable looking bed, but more importantly, he found a sense of relief that for the first time in a long time, you would be able to lay in clean sheets and rest your head on a soft pillow. “Looks like we’ll both be gettin’ a good night’s sleep for once.”

Grinning, you tilted your head up towards his, your lips meeting his in a kiss. “Guess being stormed in has its perks,” You murmured against his mouth. You dropped his hand and stepped away from him, pulling your pack off your shoulders and placing it onto the bed. Unzipping it at the top, you opened it up and started rummaging around inside of it, hoping that you had a spare t-shirt that you could sleep in. As Joel started doing the same, you couldn’t help but remark, “Gracie seems to have taken a sudden liking to you.”

He quickly shook his head. “I don’t think so—”

“Joel, she gave you a flower.”

“She gave everyone a flower,” he reminded you. “Not just me.”

“What about the way she just jumped into your arms?”

He scoffed. “The thunder startled her and I was sitting closest to her. She would have jumped into the fuckin’ Boogeyman’s arms if he had been closest to her.”

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculousness. “Okay, what about the fact that she wanted to sit next to you at the dinner table tonight? Or how she decided to introduce you to all of her dolls one by one?”

Joel paused from digging into his pack, his jaw clenching slightly as he mulled over his thoughts in hid mind. “Do you think Gracie senses somethin’ about me?” he asked you quietly after a minute or two of silence.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Why are you asking me that? Do you think she senses something about you?”

“I’d sure as hell hope not. Wouldn’t make Bill and Frank too happy. In fact, it would move me even higher up Bill’s shit list. I can tell that he wasn’t all too happy with the way she was clingin’ to me earlier.” Joel sighed and finally looked up, turning to you. “She looks so much like us, you know. The older she gets, the more I can actually see it. She’s equal parts you, equal parts me. Makes me worry about her noticin’ it someday.”

“Joel, she’s a toddler for Christ’s sake. It’ll be years before that could even happen. And sure she looks a lot like us now, but as children get older their features start to change and—” You stopped, realizing Joel had stopped listening to you.

His eyes were fixed on something over your shoulder, his lips parted slightly.

“Joel, what are you—?” You turned around.

Gracie stood there at the door of the bedroom, which the two of you had left open. She was barefoot, wearing a light pink nightdress; she held her hands behind her back as she simply looked at you and Joel.

“Gracie? Sweetheart, what are you doing out of bed? How on earth did you get down here all by yourself?” Your heart squeezed in your chest when you realized that she could have easily fallen down the stairs and gotten hurt.

“Think she’s got somethin’ there, baby,” Joel noticed. He walked over to her and lowered himself down to one knee in front of her. Although he was sure Bill wouldn’t be dumb enough to leave one of his guns or other weapons lying around unsecured, part of him couldn’t help but worry about what she had in her hands. He held out his hand. “Can I see what you’ve got there, little darlin’?”

She nodded, almost eagerly, and showed him the object she’d been holding behind her back—a children’s book.

You let out a small breath of relief. “Oh thank god.”

Joel took it from her. “Goodnight, Moon,” he read the cover out loud, feeling his heart sink deep into the pits of his stomach. Looking over his shoulder at you, he let out a sharp exhale, as if some unseen force had just knocked all the wind out of his lungs.

Concerned, you placed a hand on his shoulder. “Joel? Are you okay?”

Though clearly he wasn’t, he nodded and turned back to Gracie.

“Read me the story?” she asked him shyly, shuffling from foot to foot.

“Frank already read her a bedtime story,” You explained to him, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “He said he only allows her one a night.”

“Well, that’s a stupid fuckin’ rule,” Joel muttered, though he had been loud enough for you to hear.

“Joel!” You snapped, swatting at him with your other hand. “Don’t say that word in front of her!”

Joel almost laughed. “She’s two and a half years old.”

“Yeah, and probably parrot at this age,” You pointed out. “Please, just mind your mouth around her? We don’t need her picking up your rich vocabulary.”

“Bedtime story? Please?” Gracie chirped hopefully, interrupting the two of you.

Joel let out a small scoff. “You expect me to say no to that sweet little face? Not a chance.” He turned back to her. “Alright, I’ll read it to you. But you have to promise me you’ll go to sleep right after. Promise?”

She nodded excitedly. “Promise!”

Your stomach churned. “Joel, are you sure this is a good idea? I don’t want Bill and Frank getting upset with us—”

“It’s just a bedtime story,” he said. Holding the book in one hand, he rose to his feet and then scooped her up into his arms. He walked out of the bedroom and started up the staircase with you following close behind. As soon as he reached the top of the stairs, he asked, “Which one’s hers?” 

You hesitated before answering, “Second door on the right. Joel, I’m not sure about this.”

“You act like we’re committin’ a fuckin’ crime.”

“First of all stop cursing around her and secondly, we may as well be committing a crime!” You hissed, lowering your voice. “I don’t want to break any boundaries. If Bill gets pissed enough, he could potentially never let us see her again!”

Joel shook his head. “Baby, for the last time, it’s just a fuck—it’s just bedtime story,” he quickly caught himself before another curse word could escape him. “Can you just relax? We ain’t doin’ anythin’ wrong.”

You’d never seen this side of Joel before. Usually, it was him trying to be the voice of reason, it had always been Joel telling you to use your common sense and make the right decisions, and here he was, being so stupidly stubborn.

He opened the door to Gracie’s bedroom and flipped on the lights. It looked like any ordinary little girl’s bedroom—a canopy bed, matching white furniture, a corner strewn with all kinds of toys and a bookshelf packed to the brim with fairytales in another. What surprised you was how the plain white walls had been brought to life with hand painted, large scale wildflowers that surely had to have been done by Frank.

“Daddy’s flowers,” she said, pointing her finger.

“He paints the prettiest flowers, doesn’t he?” You prompted her.

She nodded her head. “Mhm.”

“C’mon.” Joel walked over towards her bed, perching her on his hip as he reached out with his free hand to pull her covers back; he then gingerly laid her down and pulled them up to her chest, tucking her in. “You warm enough, babygirl?”

Gracie nodded. “Yes.” Her eyes suddenly widened. “Teddy!”

“Teddy?” Confused, he furrowed an eyebrow and then glanced down at the stuffed brown teddy bear beside his boot. “Oh, Teddy. How did he get down here, darlin’? He’s supposed to be up here with you.” He picked the bear up, placing it right beside her. “That’s better.”

Anxiously, you dropped down into the white wicker chair beside her bed as Joel kneeled on the opposite side. His dark eyes glazed over the book in his hand, and even from where you sat, you could see the sadness flash across his face, subtle, but detectable. Before you could ask him what was wrong, he opened it and thumbed to the first page. Clearing his throat, he began reading to her. “In the great green room, there was a telephone. And a red balloon. And a picture of a cow jumpin’ over the moon…”

Gracie lingered on every word, her big doe eyes wide with fascination in the most endearing way.

You finally managed to relax and leaned back into the chair, watching the scene before you with a delicate smile on your face. Your hand instinctively went to your necklace, and you rolled the pearl between your thumb and your index finger as you drank in the sight of Joel reading to your daughter.

His daughter.

“Goodnight moon, goodnight cow jumpin’ over the moon…”

Gracie yawned and began blinking furiously.

You could tell she was trying her hardest to stay awake to the very end, but Joel’s deep voice was effortlessly lulling her to sleep. 

“Goodnight stars, goodnight air, goodnight noises everywhere.” By the time Joel read the last sentence, her eyes had fluttered closed.

“And she’s out.” You lowered your voice so you wouldn’t wake her.

Joel closed the book and placed it on her nightstand. He stared at her and reached out, lightly touching his index finger to her cheek. “If you would’ve asked me two and a half years ago if I thought I’d be tuckin’ her into bed and readin’ her a bedtime story someday, I’d say you’d lost your damn fuckin’ mind.”

You laughed softly and nodded. “Oh, I know.”

“You think she’s happy here?”

Your smile faded slightly. “Of course she’s happy here. Wearing pretty dresses, picking flowers, chasing butterflies across the front yard...”

“Yeah, I guess that was a stupid question,” Joel muttered, rising to his feet.

You stood up from the chair and walked over to him. “Bill and Frank are doing a great job at raising her under the circumstances. She’s happy, she’s healthy—and they love her so much, Joel.”

“Too bad she’ll never know that we loved her first,” he murmured.

“We did love her first.” You reached for one of his hands and took it in your own, lacing your fingers together with his. “But this is the way things have to be and we both know that.”

Joel let out a hesitant sigh. “That book she brought me to read to her,” he started to say, his voice breaking slightly, “That book was the first book that I ever read to Sarah when she was a little girl.”

You squeezed his hand tightly, your heart aching for him. “Joel...” You stopped and swallowed the thick, emotional lump that had risen in your throat. You said nothing else and reached up with your opposite hand, cradling his cheek in your palm.

“She was two years old, just like Gracie is now.” His voice wavered again and it was taking every ounce of strength he had inside of him not to crumble in front of you. He placed his hand over yours on his face. “You know that dimple in her left cheek?”

You simply nodded.

“Sarah had that exact same dimple,” Joel whispered. “Same side, same place too. And the way Gracie acts, she reminds me so much of her when she was that age. The way she smiles, the way she giggles, it all reminds me of Sarah.”

It almost shocked you, the way Joel was mentioning Sarah—the last time he had talked about her was that night in the apartment almost three years ago, when you had brought her up during an argument and it had only added fuel to the fire. You remembered being heavily pregnant with Gracie then, and Joel had confessed that he would probably never be ready to talk to you about the daughter that he’d lost. To hear him even utter her name to you again came completely out of left field.

“Maybe your sweet little butterfly sent you something to remember her by,” You told him, nodding over at the sleeping child. 

Joel closed his eyes for a moment, tilting his head further into the palm of your hand. After a while, he finally opened them again and broke the silence. “Do you remember the day we left her here?”

“How can I not? It was hardest day of my entire fucking life.”

“You said that comin’ to see her, it wouldn’t be enough. That it would never be enough.” He paused, remembering, “I said it would never be enough for me either.”

“And?”

“We were right. This ain’t enough,” he admitted. “And every time that we leave here without her, it hurts just as much as it did on day one.”

“I know. Trust me, I know.” You blinked back the warm tears that had sprung to your eyes.

After spending a while watching Gracie as she slept, you and Joel decided it was time to head downstairs back to the guest bedroom to try and get some rest. Each of you took a turn to kiss her goodnight before shutting off the lights and quietly slipping out of her bedroom, closing the door behind you.