Looking for lovey dovey stories featuring you, the reader? I’ve got you!! This is your one stop shop for all things drop dead odd and loving. Soon enough it’ll become an addiction!!
A little info about me; I’m Via, I use He/They/It and I’m a trans man, I usually write gender neutral reader so anyone can read but I’m so down to write any gender. I enjoy reading and my dream is to be an author. I’d love if you liked, reblogged or commented on my work I always get so happy to see people like it!
My base blog (aka my non-writing blog) is @iveeaten3humanorganz
Here’s some important links;
BYF/DNI , HOW 2 REQUEST , MASTERLIST OF MASTERLISTS
Also fun fact now: I am actually officially CPR trained! During the break I took I got my licence from Red Cross! I’m also trying to volunteer at a family centre particularly to help with children. :))
Yeahhh ik you are all probably upset for me disappearing (again) but I had some good reasons to.
I kind of lost my will to write after my mom stopped using ai because it was “inaccurate” and not because their darling child wanted to be a writer, and that got me thinking, “well what does it matter? Why bother making anything for anyone at all if what everyone wants is mass produced.” Blah blah blah.
Then when I thought I’d come back but then I was cursed with this job finding course which I wish I could blow up with my mind.
Anyways made some new friends who kinda begged me to write a fanfic for them so I thought I may as well come back.
I’m really sorry for ghosting you all. But thank you for the ones who waited. I’ll lock in now. ♡
On every social I have, I have never once reached 1k before. So this is also a huge first.
Thank you so much everyone, I’m so happy to reach this milestone with you! I’ve been writing for a phew years now and it’s been my dream to be able to get this far, actually it’s been my dream since I was a kid to be atleast liked for my writing. Growing up I never really had a place to share my writing, I only ever had my family and on days I tried writing heavier work I was criticized for it being to “violent” or “depressing”, especially since a lot of my followers are here for Coming Full Circle a somewhat dark-ish fic it’s so nice to see I’m accepted, even if I’m a bit high strung lol.
I’m truly grateful you think my works are that good, I put my heart and soul into everything I write. And I try to write in a way that includes everyone to the best of my abilities. I’ve rewritten multiple times a work because I felt like it was too certain gender, hair texture or skin colour coded.
I also appreciate you all being so generous to me for all my mental health episodes and painful pauses. I know being patient isn’t easy.
So thank you all. I’m so happy to call all of you my readers. ♡
Hi!!! :]
i saw your selfship post you posted recently and its so cool!!!! :D
could i perchance request a similar thing focused around found family!sibling f/os with GN reader / s/i?
no pressure btw i just think your writing was super cool in that post!!
DONE! I included parent as well. I dunno if it was found family enough but I tried my best. When I think of found family I usually think of grumpy x sunshine ‘yep that’s my kid.’ so I may have made it tooooo parenty idk tho. Hopefully you like it all the same!
Bakugou and Midoriya imagine! (both adults per their canon selves) x Fem reader.
CW: Accidental flashing / accidental voyeurism.
You normally walk around the house in just your panties, you and Izuku were married so it wasn’t a big deal. Besides he liked seeing you all relaxed like that, it was nice to see something so domestic when he came home to you.
However the one time he forgot you walk around in your panties is when he brought Bakugou over. It was an accident! He genuinely didn’t mean to, it just became so normal to him he forgot it wasn’t…
You were walking around the kitchen when they both walked in, your backed turned to them. It was only when you heard someone swear you turned around.
Right behind you were Bakugou and your darling husband, you yelped and Izuku slapped his hands over Bakugou eyes, who was frozen in place. You ran to the bedroom to change nearly tripping and falling in your panic.
Still frozen, with Midoriya’s hands still covering his eyes, Bakugou mentally cursed himself for not being the one you were married to.
Warnings/MDNI: fluff, a little angst, emotional too? it touched me a lot though 😭, reader is preggo, arthur is paranoid af even from trees--to the point of losing his mind-
Syno: Arthur meets an old lady, and his greatest fears are left ruffled. he isn't going back to normal now.
+++ it's kind of a self-indulgent oneshot based on things I heard growing up, hehe. Arthur pic by Caramello on Pin.
┆ ⤿ ❀ m.list
He’d found her near the fork in the trail, hunched by a busted wheel and muttering curses. Old, but not frail, her eyes were sharp and her tongue sharper as she waved him down like he was late to something.
"You! Boy!"
Arthur slowed his horse, brow raised. "Ma’am."
"You got hands, don’t you? Good. Help me get this damned thing back on the axle before I throw it in the creek."
He could’ve ridden past. Should’ve, maybe. But something about her tone, bossy, impatient, proud , reminded him of you.
So he dismounted without a word and started working. Took him fifteen minutes, a few grunts, and one splinter, but the wheel was back in place. The old woman clucked her tongue like she approved, but didn’t say thanks.
"Figured it was a good day for helping folks," Arthur said, brushing his hands off on his pants.
She squinted at him. "You from these parts?"
"Not really."
"Got family?"
He hesitated, blushing. "Sort of."
She nodded, like she knew what that meant. "You’re not law, are you?"
He smirked faintly. "No, ma’am."
"Good. I don’t like ‘em. Too nosy."
That made him chuckle under his breath. "Ain’t got much reason to like 'em myself."
She jerked her head toward the bench on the cart. "Come on. You’re ridin’ with me to the river. Least you can do after helpin’ is keep me from dyin’ of boredom."
He didn’t argue. He helped her up, then climbed in beside her.
She started talking before the horse even took a step.
And that’s how, somewhere between a crooked mile and a winding bend, Arthur learned about her niece , about the girl’s sadness, the things she shouldn’t have done, and all the things her husband failed to do. He didn’t say much. Just listened.
"Lost the baby," she said, matter-of-fact. "Girl didn’t take care of herself properly. Started acting odd, too. Very...odd. Wouldn’t eat. Wouldn't talk. Spent a lot of her time in her garden, alone. Quiet, under trees."
Arthur glanced sideways. "What’s trees got to do with it?"
"You don’t get all pretty, dolled up and sit under them, especially when the sun's goin' down. Pulls in bad stuff y'know. Makes the air heavy. Don’t hang clothes under open sky for long either, or leave hairbrushes lying around. They attract things. The old folks always said so."
Arthur nodded slowly, like he wasn’t paying attention, but he was already filing each word away.
No trees. No clothes hanging. Put the brush away.
"She sat in the dark too much. Alone. Cryin’. That’s no good. You sit in the dark, you invite things you don’t understand. You keep a house with warmth and sound in it. Laughter. Music. Light."
He looked down at his hands. You’d cried last night. Quiet, somewhere alone in the camp, when no one was looking, thought he wouldn't know. He knew because your eyes were swollen a bit too much when you had lain down beside him at night. Upon questioning , you had refused to answer him which led to an argument.
Dammit, I am a fuckin' bastard.
"Her husband was useless," the woman added with a sniff. "Didn’t even talk to the baby, didn’t keep her company. A woman carryin’ life needs love louder than the fear in her head. Needs someone holdin’ her hand more often than not."
Arthur swallowed hard, his jaw clenching out of instinct.
All this time, he’d been so focused on saving for the future , for the child, for safety, for the mess the gang might leave behind , that he hadn’t realized he was already failing at the most important part.
Being there.
Being present.
Being a father now, not just later.
"She was always angry before the baby passed," she said more gently. "You can’t sleep angry. That sort of feeling gets into everything. Into the child, even. Husband should smooth her hair, put a hand on her belly. Say good words. Doesn’t matter which ones. What matters is how he says ‘em."
"Right," Arthur murmured, jaw tight. "Got it."
"And feed her fruit. Good fruit. Give her water from your own cup once a day. Makes the child feel known. And keep her off her feet when the wind’s wrong."
Arthur looked up. "When the wind’s wrong?"
"You’ll know when it is. If you love her."
She patted his arm as he helped her climb down the wagon. "Men think protecting a woman is about killin’ things for her. Sometimes, it’s just makin’ sure she eats right and don’t cry alone."
She looked at him , really looked and said, "You got a woman carryin' your child, don’t you?"
Arthur blinked with a faint smile, his neck once again going red. "...Mhm...wife."
"Then go home, boy," she said, reaching out to straighten the fold of his shirt like he was twelve. "And stop leaving her alone with her sadness. You ain’t just protectin’ her body. You’re protectin’ the world you’ll both live in once that baby arrives. Make sure it’s one she wants to stay in."
He was left speechless and...heavy with an uncountable amount of feelings. He stood there a minute longer after she was gone, then rubbed his jaw thoughtfully.
When Arthur got back to camp, he didn’t waste time.
Didn't greet anyone. Didn’t even scold Sean like usual when the boy hollered something about the horse looking tired.
No, he went straight to you.
You were sitting by the fire, poking at your plate, looking exhausted and a little distant, like you’d been left alone with your thoughts too long. You’d been doing that a lot these days. Same quiet place. Same untouched food. Same hollowness behind your eyes.
And it wasn’t like you.
Not you, who used to slam down your fork when dinner was cold. Who used to bite back at Dutch, roll her eyes at everyone, and make jokes, insult John like a hobby, to make Abigail smile. You loved poking people for fun not a piece of meat on a plate.
But now…
Now you just sat there. Under the dark sky, firelight soft against your skin, shadows deep under your eyes.
And you looked alone.
Arthur’s throat closed up.
Camp was still moving. Bill and Javier were somewhere near the wagons. Mary-Beth was chatting with Tilly. Uncle and Sean were probably off yelling about something that didn’t matter. You were surrounded by people.
And yet, he had never seen someone look so alone in a crowd.
His vision blurred for a second. He blinked fast, looking away, dragging a hand down his face as if that’d somehow fix what he was feeling. His chest ached in a quiet, unbearable way.
He’d been too focused on everything else. And there you were. His girl. His wife. The mother of his child. Sitting right in the middle of it all, still feeling like nobody saw her.
He swore under his breath, quiet, and started walking toward you before his legs could second-guess it.
He wasn’t about to let you sit in the dark by yourself another damn minute.
Arthur squatted down in front of you, his big hand sliding over your knee, startling you. "You eat?"
"Um...hi?". You shrugged. "And yeah, a...little."
"Not enough."
Before you could argue, he plucked an apple from his bag, one he’d bought on the ride back, carefully picking the ripest one like it was mission critical, and set it in your palm. "Eat it."
You blinked at him. "What are you doing?"
"Feedin' you."
"I know but-"
"You’re gonna eat it," he said firmly, already brushing crumbs off your lap and pulling your legs gently into his. "Ain’t no harm in lettin’ me fuss over you a little."
You squinted at him, suspicious. "What’s got you so-"
He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, holding the back of your neck to calm himself. "J-us'---jus' heard some things today."
"About...what?"
"About how a woman in your condition oughta be cared for. And how I ain’t been doin’ enough of it."
You frowned, but you bit into the apple anyway.
Arthur sat back, watching you like you might disappear if he looked away. His hand absent-mindedly rubbed your shin, his thumb circling the spot where you’d complained about aching last night to Karen.
...You’d even stopped sharing your problems with him.... Whether it was because you didn’t think he was worthy of them anymore, or you just didn’t want to be a burden, he didn’t know. But he knew one thing. He didn’t like it
Slowly chewing, you spoke up, "You’re acting strange."
"Yeah, well," he muttered, "guess I figured out I ain't just protectin' you from guns and bad men. I gotta protect you from bein' sad. From bein’ tired. From...feelin' like you gotta do this alone."
You stared at him, gulping.
He caught the look and clicked his tongue. "Don’t go gettin' all weepy on me now. I'm still mad you didn't finish your lunch."
"You sound like...Uncle Hosea."
"Good. He’s smarter than me, always has been." He brushed your hair behind your ear, voice dropping as he added, "Also, always put your brush away. And we’re sleepin’ with the lamp on. No arguments."
Your brows shot up in confusion.
"Not arguin’," he said sweetly, cupping your face. "Just lovin’ you loud enough to drown out the fear. That’s the rule now."
You sat there for a beat too long, caught in his stare, your fingers tightening around the apple.
Finally, you mumbled, "I was fine, you don't have to."
Arthur smiled faintly, pressing a kiss to your temple. "No, you weren’t. You aren't. And don’t you dare say ‘you didn’t have to’ or ‘don’t do it’, not to me, you silly girl." His voice dropped, softer, but firm. "Who else’s job is it, huh? Mhm? You should’ve beat my sorry ass to make me do it sooner. Don't think you ain't a priority of mine, not...more important than the gang. You are...I jus' never made you feel it, I guess. So be selfish, very, very selfish, ya' hear me?"
And when you slowly leaned into his chest with your eyes glistening, food forgotten, Arthur wrapped his arms around you like he never planned to let go.
That night, you found your brush tucked neatly away. Arthur had fussed a bit more over the fire, made sure you ate more than you could even, and massaged your feet till you dozed off.
All the while as he just shrugged and muttered, "Wind’s wrong." He pulled you onto his chest, his big hand resting over your belly like it was the most natural thing in the world. No words. Just the warmth of his palm, the steady hum of his breath, and the soft glow of the lamp in the tent, he absolutely refused to turn off.
Because love protects in ways no gun ever could.
And you were delusional to think it wouldn't get much more than this...
❀˖°
You hadn’t even been under the damn tree for five minutes.
The breeze was soft, sun low, and you’d just finished pinning your hair up the way you liked, a little loose, a little elegant, with one of the new combs Arthur brought back from town. You smelled like rosewater from your bath. Felt good for once, onto some evening reading. Fresh and light, pretty, settled, calm.
Which is exactly when you heard thundering footsteps.
"Hey!" Arthur’s voice cracked through camp like a whip. "Get up."
You looked over your shoulder slowly, like you were dreaming. There he was, stomping across the clearing like a man possessed. Hat crooked from running. Eyes locked on you like you'd personally offended him.
"...What did I do now?" you asked flatly.
"You're sittin' under a tree."
"So?"
"So?!" he panted, stopping a few feet from you, "you look... like that."
You blinked. "L-like what?"
"Like... you got your hair all done up, smell like a damn field of flowers, and you're glowin'. And you're sittin' under the one thing I was told to keep you the hell away from."
"...Arthur."
"She said don't let you near trees if you're glamoured up!" he hissed, glancing up at the branches like they were about to lunge at you.
"But I just wanted to-"
"YOU NEVER LISTEN, WOMAN! THEY NOTICE--BAD THINGS NOTICE, AND THEY'RE GONNA GET YOU! OR GET INSIDE YOU, I DUNNO! JUS' GET YOUR ASS UP!"
Your breath caught. He'd never spoken to you like that before. Never so sharp. And it scared the hell out of you.
You hadn’t meant to make a mistake. You were just tired. You wanted peace.
Your lip trembled before you could stop it. You tried to blink away the burn in your eyes, tried to breathe through the rising weight in your chest... but you couldn’t. Not this time.
That’s when Susan stormed over.
"Arthur Morgan! What in God’s name are you barkin’ about?! What could she possibly have done?"
Arthur spun to her, exasperated. "She's sittin' under a fuckin' tree!"
"And?!"
"And she ain’t supposed to! Not when she’s all pretty and perfumed and-" He gestured toward you, like that explained everything.
Susan crossed her arms. "The tree’s gonna gobble her up, is it?"
Arthur clenched his jaw. "That ain’t the point! It ain’t safe. Evil, horror things--I dunno!"
But Susan’s eyes had already flicked back to you. She saw the tears brimming, the way your shoulders were shaking.
And then it happened.
You broke.
A sob tore from your throat as you covered your face, crying in spite of yourself.
Susan’s expression softened. "Oh, sweetheart, are you alright? Ignore him."
Arthur’s heart plummeted.
In two strides, he was in front of you, crouching down low, voice suddenly low and raw. "Hey. No, no, c’mere. I ain’t mad at you, alright? I’m just--hell, I’m scared. I didn’t mean to yell."
But you were already leaning into Susan, hiding in her arms as you cried harder.
Arthur’s hands hovered before gently cupping your chin, coaxing your gaze to his. "I ain’t scared of much," he whispered, eyes glistening, "but losin’ you? I’d burn down every tree in the damn country if it meant keepin’ you safe."
Susan shook her head, fighting a smile. "Well, now you’ve done it. She’s crying, and it’s your fault."
Arthur didn’t look away from you. "I’m so sorry, darlin'. Look at me."
You blinked up at him through tears. He brushed your jaw with his thumb, then pressed a long kiss to your forehead, staying there like he could kiss away the world.
"Lemme walk you back, alright? No more trees today."
You hiccupped quietly. "I w-was co-mfortable."
Arthur smiled softly. "I’ll build you a chair outta blankets and hold your hand the whole damn time. Deal?"
You nodded, finally leaning into his chest.
Susan chuckled as she walked off. "Lord, you two’ll give me gray hair."
Arthur murmured against your temple, "Mine’ll go first at this rate," and then added under his breath, "Damn old ladies… damn gorgeous woman… damn hauntin’ trees…"
He tugged you up gently by the hand, draped his jacket over your shoulders like a shield, and guided you back toward the tents, never letting go.
Now everyone was sure that...
Arthur was absolutely gonna start carrying an axe from now on.
Just in case.
Which made him target of stupid ass jokes from Bill , Sean and John like...
'Oi, Arthur! Need us to put up a fence around the trees for ya? Keep the lady safe from wild bark and seductive leaves?'
'Should we start packin’ flowers around her bed too? Maybe get her a tree-repellent candle?'
Even Dutch-"Boy, have I ever told you how proud I am? Chivalry. Romance. Tree-related overreactions. That’s what this gang needs more of."
"Dammit" Arthur closed his eyes like he was praying for patience. "I ain’t never talkin’ to old women again."
"You will," you said sweetly, "especially if they give more advice about how to treat me like royalty."
The camp howled.
Arthur gave up, dragging a hand over his face and shaking his head, but not before pressing a kiss to your temple again, just to shut them all up for a moment.
He didn't mind the notion at all. If that makes you happy and safe. Old people spoke wisdom anyway.
Two days later, you sat by the fire, reaching for knife to help Susan with chopping veggies for stew when-
Arthur appeared like a storm cloud.
He had said no things sharp.
And so he didn’t even speak. Just slowly pulled the knife from your hand, gave Susan a look of deep apology, and started chopping himself.
"Sharp things," he said solemnly. "Not today."
Also, did you mention how he tied a makeshift ribbon on your wrist made from his handkerchief? Soft. So that way, even when he isn't here, you know he's close. To you both.
❀˖°
By the end of the week, the notebook had:
A tally of how many times you sneezed
A small doodle of the tree you sat under (labeled 'Dangerous Shady Bastard')
A list titled "Food Cravings Approved / Denied"
Goose eggs cooked over a fire (ticked).
Well, this made you remember how he was chased down while stealing them, and you're laughing the whole time while Arthur’s yelling, "it ain’t funny, damnit!"
Pickled beets (ticked)
Blackberries (ticked)
Stagecoach jerky from Sean (crossed)
Whatever the hell that "river cheese" was (crossed)
One page that just read:
"Combing her damn luscious hair while sittin' under trees = VERY BAD. DO NOT REPEAT."
You’d tried to ignore it. You really did.
But on the eighth day, after Arthur pressed a warm hand to your forehead because you sniffled once, wrote 'Chill in air?' and asked if Dutch’s cologne was 'too strong for the baby,' you finally cracked.
"Arthur!" you burst, snatching the notebook.
"You gonna scold me for protectin’ my family?" he asked, full cowboy martyr eyes.
You stared at the page.
He’d drawn a tiny picture of you. Next to it, he’d written:
Don’t let her sleep mad. Night’s too long to carry anger. If she breathes funny, check her pulse. If she walks fast, carry her. If she rolls her eyes, kiss her.
Your face softened.
"…You’re so-"
Arthur grinned, not even letting you finish as he pulled you snug to his chest, his arms wrapped tight around your waist. "Yeah. In love. I know."
You tried to squirm, only half-heartedly. "And you’re gonna give yourself a stroke if you keep this up. You’re making me worried now!"
Instead of easing off, he simply leaned in, nuzzling into the crook of your neck like he was trying to melt into your skin. His voice was soft, all gravel and affection.
"Then I’ll die holdin’ this dumb little notebook and you."
You let out a snort, muffled as you buried your smile in his collar. "God help me. You’re gonna be so much worse when the baby’s here."
Arthur shifted then, gently pushing you back onto the bedroll, his body following yours like instinct. His weight was warm and grounding, his hand sliding behind your head as the other pulled the blanket up over both of you. He laid half on top of you, protective and lazy, like a man who had no intention of leaving.
"Oh, I already got a whole second notebook ready for that, sweetheart," he murmured smugly against your cheek.
You paused, squinting up at him. "What--Arthur."
He kissed your lips, slow and indulgent, like punctuation.
"Color-coded."
"Off the rails, aren't you?."
"For you," he said with zero shame, kissing the tip of your nose before resting his forehead to yours.
Then, softer, almost sheepish, "I just wanna do right by you. And the kid. Even if it means not sleepin’ and keepin’ track of how many times you throw a pillow at me."
You blinked slowly, the lump rising in your throat making it hard to speak.
Arthur kissed your jaw, then your wrist, then held your hand right over his chest, where his heartbeat thudded steady beneath your palm.
"I ain’t lettin’ a damn thing touch both of you," he whispered. "Not worry, not fear, not even a rough patch in camp. You hear me?"
You nodded, tucking yourself closer into his arms, his weight like armor and his words like prayer.
CW: both reader and Clark are equally drunk and enthusiastically consent, but because you’re both drunk and in somewhat denial about being into men it’s dubcon. Drunk sex, internalized homophobia, reader is male and but does not specify genitalia (hole, opening, sweet spot etc.), Bottom Reader, Virgin x Virgin, brief mention of Clark having a crush on Lois, narrator lowkey shames you & him, accidental orgasm denial, knotting, alien biology, accidental breeding, hyperspermia, tiny bit of cum inflation, mild angst at the end, NOT BETA READ LOL
You flop onto Clark’s couch and immediately break open the cold beers, Clark follows suit after locking the door and place the chicken tenders on the table.
You chug your beer before finally looking at him, “so what are we watching tonight?” You ask licking your lips from the slight foam your top lip. Every Saturday night you and Clark go back to his and watch a movie, usually you get some fast food and if you’re both feeling super good some drinks. Tonight, it was Clark’s turn to pick the movie.
“Lois, the woman in my department I was telling you about, suggested this movie it’s called...” Clark smiled as he flipped onto his streaming service. He says the name of the movie but you didn’t listen, focusing instead on the fact he mentioned Lois.
“Oooo, ain’t Lois the woman you have a crush on?” You tease nudging him and Clark goes red.
“Please, she’s just someone I admire.” Clark replies shaking his head sighing with a slight smile on his face at your teasing.
“Righttt because admiring means having that one dream—” you start but Clark quickly interjects “What the hay dude?! You promised not to use it against me!” He whines and you just grin at him.
“I am nothing if not a liar.” You laugh and Clark only rolls his eyes and pouts finally pulling up the movie. You both get comfortable as the movie starts to play, it seemed to be a classic cheesy ‘the loser wins it all’ movie, a romcom featuring the loser main character who is in love with a woman but then the apocalypse hits and is forced to take action to find her as she’s missing. He even makes a friend along the way, a loveable sidekick who feels like he’s made out of sunshine and rainbows even when he’s beheading every zombie insight.
“Reminds me of you.” You laugh at the sidekick character as you munch on chicken.
“No he doesn’t, he’s way too… sunny.” Clark scrunches his face as the sidekick makes a stupid joke and you smile.
“So does! You don’t even swear he’s exactly like—” you smile but the main character’s voice interrupts you, making you whip your head back to the screen.
“Just shut up!” The main character yells at the sidekick. It somehow feels like the acting upgraded all of a sudden. “Can’t you see we are in an apocalypse? How are you making jokes right now?!” The sidekick flinches and goes silent.
“Whoa. Too far, he was just trying to brighten up the situation.” You mutter but Clark shakes his head.
“That’s what happens when you forcibly try and made a terrible situation better.” He hums before gulping down his own beer.
“I don’t know, still feels too far there’s no need to yell.” You say glancing at Clark before back at the screen. The characters now travelling in silence, looking awkward. “Yeah see?! He made it awkward!” You complain taking a deeper sip.
“That’s not his fault though, he said the truth!” Clark argues back before drinking his own.
“Truth my ass, he could’ve been nicer about it.” You complain. Clark just shakes his head at you. There’s a silence as you both somewhat angrily drink more beer.
After a beat, Clark opens back up “He definitely could’ve been nicer I agree on that…” and you smile in triumph mouth still full of beer.
“See? Knew you’d agree with me, but I also agree that it kinda needed to be said.” You concede, making Clark smile now. Luckily there’s no more silence as you two chat away, drinking more…
And more…
And more beer.
At some point you go through one whole pack and crack open another. You’re both not sure why you’re drinking so much, but neither of you care. It’s the weekend! Who cares about tomorrow.
“Then she said to me—” you start but an explosion on screen has you both focusing on the screen once more. Both characters barely made it out alive, and are hiding on bus in a cave to avoid the zombies.
“Whys there a bus in a cave?” You laugh.
“Maybe like a tourist group?” Clark offers but you just laugh more, making him laugh with you too.
“Yeah! Lots to see in a dark cave.” You say in between laughs. It’s not that funny but you both can’t stop laughing. When you focus back on the TV, the characters seem awfully close.
“Thank you for saving me from that explosion…” The second character says, his eyes glancing down to the other’s lips. The scene feels… charged.
“It’s like they’re about to kiss—” you start but like the characters heard you, they’re onto each other fast, making both you and Clark’s breath catch in your throat.
It’s like the movies poor acting increases again, their kissing feverish and desperate, groping and touching each other like they are the last people alive. You feel your arousal grow at the scene as they start stripping. Two men who are somewhat similar in personalities to you and Clark touching like that…
You pray your arousal isn’t obvious as you turn to glance at Clark, whose eyes are glued to the screen. You feel like a pervert for glancing down at his crotch, but apparently he’s struggling too, his cock being hugged to his thigh by his pants.
Everything about you feels sticky, the lump in your throat to your underwear as you sneakily readjust yourself.
“Wowzers… they sure are…” he hiccups, “… going at it.” Clark laughs but his laugh is awkward and fake.
“Yeah it’s like a gay porno or something- not that I know what a gay porno is like!” You laugh awkwardly as you drink more beer as a comfort. Clark follows suit.
Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve had so much to drink or maybe, it’s the gay sex that’s playing out in front of you on your screen but the air feels…. Different.
“I think I’ve had too much to drink because it’s kind of turning me on!” You laugh. Why are you being so honest? You want to kick yourself. Clark only nods, he’s clearly as drunk as you. He’s always been the somewhat more silent drunk type though compared to you.
“Damn kind of wish I could do that with you? Like I imagine that must feel incredible you know?” Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!
“Not that I’m Gay, I just mean I’ve heard how good it feels from my gay friends cause I’m not homophobic and I’m always down to listen to people talking.” You’re just digging a bigger hole.
“Like I just mean you’re my best friend and if I were to have gay sex with anyone it would be you, because that would just make sense!” You half wonder if you should shoot yourself and why does it sound like you’re not a virgin?! You’ve barely hugged any one of the opposite sex, let alone fuck them.
“… yeah. I’d do that with you.” Clark finally speaks slowly, his face turning to meet yours. Jesus, how close are you to him now? You must’ve scooched yourself closer to him when you were talking. Your mouths barely a fraction apart.
“You… would? Me too yeah…” You say trying to muster out anything to pause the sparks but it fails just as fast and before you can blabber something else, Clark’s mouth is on yours. He tastes like beer and chicken and you have no doubt you taste the exact same.
He kisses surprisingly rough, like you’re about to disappear and he’s begging you to stay. His tongue is almost choking you as you begin to kiss him with tongue. His hands grip onto you tight too, his hand on the back of your upper neck and the other on the small of your back.
You wrap your arms around his neck like a girl would kissing him- are you the girl?
Yeah you definitely are the way Clark is laying you back on the couch with him over you. You almost want to argue, how dare you be the girl? If anything he’s far more in touch with his emotions! But the way he kisses you- oh…. So good.
You’ll let him get away with it just this once.
You’ve heard it feels good bottoming anyways, and it’s not like you’re homophobic so.
You yelp slightly from shock when Clark rips off your pants with his strength. You always forget he’s Superman…
Your bottom half is completely expose to the air but Clark doesn’t care, he pulls his mouth off of yours to lick his fingers, coating them in a thick amount of saliva before finding your tight little hole and slowly begin to opening you up.
You gasp and grab onto him tighter, you don’t hate it but it feels weird. You’ve never had sex before, so this is whole new territory. You always thought your first time would be with a woman, yet here you are. About to fuck your best friend.
“Tight.” Clark mutters plunging his fingers in and out of you as you moan gripping onto him tight.
You mewl and moan against him, “Do you even know— ah! what you’re doing?” You feel probably his third finger inside.
“First time… I’ll figure it out.” He kisses you silent. You had no doubt he’ll figure it all out, what feels right and what feels wrong it’s just that it means experimenting… a lot and knowing Clark he’ll be stubborn enough to keep going till he’s found the perfect speed and spot even if that means you’re on your back for hours.
His fingers are long and thick, not easy to take but they feel good. They worm around inside you, looking for something but you don’t know what until all of sudden a jolt travels up you when he touches something making your head fling back as you moan.
“… found it.” Clark smiles, you lift your head to look at him and his pants are unzipped and his cock is out.
And holy shit.
It was massive and veiny, the type you see in porn type massive, the girth no joke either. You’re not sure why but you feel yourself salivate, it just looks so appealing you almost want to take it in your mouth and keep sucking.
You don’t have much time to admire though because as soon as you see it, you don’t. You only feel it inside of your filling you up, you throw your head back in a mixture of pleasure, slight pain from the stretch and the depth, most of all confusion. You weren’t expecting that all.
Clark seems happy though, readjusting you so your legs are over his shoulders and he gets to gaze deeply into your face. When you finally adjust to everything he begins thrusting, an experimental one at first barely missing your sweet spot before going back in and hitting it.
You feel breathless, gripping at Clark’s hair as you try to adjust but the thrusts don’t let up.
His hips smack with your thighs making a lewd sound in the air, you can hear both your moans and his breathless whimpers as well.
“So good for me.” Clark purrs kissing your ankle before leaning down and kissing you, “So pretty.”
If you were not drunk out of your mind, you’d actually take a moment to realize how scary this situation is, an alien man with superpowers that could just laser you or fold you in half is drunk out of his mind and fucking you.
Yet here you are all filthy focusing on your pleasure trying to convince yourself you’re not getting addicted to him, that you’re not gay.
“Clark- please!” You whine your words slurring, if you could hear yourself now you might slap yourself for sounding so cringey but luckily it’s only cock drunk you. “So good!”
He muffles your moans and whines with his mouth, planting messy kisses that’ll leave you with swollen lips and having to wipe off saliva from one side of your face to another.
His thrust are rough, hitting that good spot making you close to cumming as you reach that hill, you feel yourself tipping over the edge—
He stops.
He stops.
You feel your orgasm fade away and you can’t help but cry a little. You lift your head up and look why Clark stopped only to see him distracted by the TV. The main characters are fucking on their makeshift bed in the bus.
“Dude?!” You say raising your voice, you wriggle to grab the remote on the table and switch off the TV. Finally Clark looks back at you. You feel triumphant, maybe now you’ll get what you want.
Just as you’re reading yourself to feel his thrusts again he picks you up. With him still inside you.
You yelp and grab onto him, he bounces you on his cock as he brings you into his bedroom, “needy.” He murmurs and you gasp.
“Needy?! Who are you calling needy motherfucke—” he silences you once again with kisses and you finally feel your back hit his soft bed. His thrusts are weird as he kind of crawl-thrusts you to the center of the bed. It’s only when he can fit himself on the bed he fucks you again.
If the thrusts were rough before these were bruising, he was deliberately chasing his high. Hitting every good spot again and again, while your eyes roll back in pleasure. Why didn’t you fuck him sooner? You almost can’t believe you tried to encourage him to get with Lois when this could’ve been all yours in the first place.
Now, if Clark was not drunk or a was a smart man, he’d probably tell you at this moment he was going to cum. And that when he cums, something weird happens when he knots. He only figured that out through one furious masturbation session (you may or may have not been the one his was masturbating too.) when he accidentally popped his knot and had a scare when he had to go searching if normal people did that. He only concluded after people on reddit called him a liar when he asked if it was normal, that it was in fact not normal and was probably some krypton DNA.
Back to the present Clark finally got you back to that hill. You could feel your orgasm coming up like a rollercoasters steep drop. You clench lightly around him excitement and finally you feel the last thrusts that send you over the edge.
You finally cum and orgasm around him, clenching hard. You throw your head back and moan as the wave crashes over you making you shake and mewl. Clark feels you orgasm and the tightness only serves to throw himself over the edge too, cumming hard too.
And popping his knot, you’re semi-jolted out of your orgasm when you feel something large suddenly thrust into you. You’re confused but that focuses fades as you feel his warm cum flooding you. It’s a weird sensation as you feel the ropes inside of you splattering against your walls but strangely good.
Clark scoops you up, still inside as he crawls under the sheets with you.
“Hey- Clark is that normal for you to cum this much because… you’re still going.” You croak and blink at him confused. He only nods though, even as it just keeps going. It doesn’t stop. Filling you up until you’ve developed a small lower bump, only then does it stop. You feel swore and tired now, and full as well.
Clark closes his eyes and gently rubs your back until you’re close to falling asleep, the rush of it all slowly disappearing until only your sore body is left.
Maybe since you finally came or maybe the fact Clark fell asleep cuddling you close to him that you’re thinking clearer now.
You just had sex with your straight best friend who has a crush on a girl.
And you’re pretty sure you just realized your feelings for him.
F/O who actually places you in their hoodie, they love having a piece of clothing on you. It’s like a nonsexual way of claiming you. If they find you’re abo to leave the house they’ll run and grab anything of theirs to put on you.
If you choose to just lay around in their hoodie, they’ll be so happy. It’s like you’re choosing them again and they love it.
Grumpy F/O who pretends to hate you, will grumble when you hug them but if you stop they’ll place an arm around you to hold you next to them. Also as much as they do complain about your affection they’ll be damned if they let anyone talk baldly about you. You’re THEIR’S to complain about.
F/O who constantly worries when you yawn and a tear or tears come out, because they automatically assume you’re crying and are desperate to fix it. They’ll scoop up your face so concerned and be like ‘My love :((? Why are you crying? What’s wrong did I do something? Are you okay?’ They have to be reassured you’re fine they’re so concerned lol
Although it says found family these can apply to regular family too. Whatever works for you!
Parent F/O(s) who take a liking to you the first moment they see you, even if you aren’t biologically their’s, they treat you as if you are.
Parent F/O(s) who never yell or get upset at you when you make a mistake, they understand it was an accident. It’s okay. They aren’t angry at all, if it’s something that can be improved on (like a misspelling, accidentally adding too much salt in food etc.) they’ll help you, they won’t criticize and they will guide you as needed. If it was something like spilling water they’ll just help you clean it up, no big deal!
Parent F/O(s) who always make time for you, you’re their babyyyy :( (even if you aren’t an actual one LOL) of course they have time for you! Even if they didn’t they would make time. You’re important to them.
Parent F/O(s) who always have a place to stay with them, be it long term or just for a visit. They’ll always have space for you.
Parent F/O(s) who (if you have other parents/guardians) won’t get jealous if you spend time with your other family. They are more focused on if you’re happy or not.
Parent F/O(s) who pay attention to whatever you’re saying, they like listening (or seeing; if you use sign language) to you speak. There’s rarely a moment where they won’t listen, and if that moment comes they’ll make sure you get to finish your sentence later. They won’t forget.
Parent F/O(s) who don’t forget you anywhere, call them and they’ll come. You don’t need to explain.
Parent F/O(s) who believe you when you’re telling the truth, they don’t accuse you of lying. They know you.
Parent F/O(s) who parent you right, they rarely let you get away with something. They WILL scold you, but never enough to make you cry. They know when enoughs enough.
Parent F/O(s) who semi-force you to listen to their long rants about nothing important even if you complain about it, you’re their kid it’s your duty LOL
Sibling F/O(s) who immediately go ‘that’s my twin, that’s my sibling, we are blood related now.’ when they see you, you have NO CHOICE. You’re their sibling now you can’t run from it.
Sibling F/O(s) who enjoy teasing you on occasion, they never go too far but they’ll grab something of yours and run off yelling at you to come catch them. They always let you get close to them before speeding off, it’s only after the second time slowing down they’ll let you take back your item.
Sibling F/O(s) who borrow your stuff they do ask (on occasion…) but you’ll always be surprised when they just turn up in your clothes, doesn’t matter if they don’t fit it they will make it fit. Even if you’re left with unfortunate stretched out clothes. It’s only lucky they won’t borrow anything important.
Sibling F/O(s) who if they’re older will immediately set into the big sibling role, be prepared for them to use their age as an arguing point ‘I’m older so it’s only fair.’
Sibling F/O(s) who lowkey enjoy whining at you, like yes you’re now going to hear about all their minor problems ‘I stubbed my toe today…’
Sibling F/O(s) who if they’re younger will start calling you every old nickname in the book ‘Oldie’ ‘Grandma/Grandpa/The Ager’ (idk what you call a gn old person.)
Sibling F/O(s) who if they’re sitting next to you on the couch will forcibly stretch their feet across you and if you throw their feet off expect to be poked by their foot.
Sibling F/O(s) who may be awkward about comforting you if you’re sad, but try hard anyways. They’ll give you gently back rubs and hand you tissues if you cry. If you don’t like touch they get that, they’ll just sit by you listening to you vent.
Sibling F/O(s) who always remember you birthday and attempt to make you a cake, even if you don’t celebrate they want you to know they are happy you were born.
Sibling F/O(s) who enjoy cuddling up to you and sleeping next to you, it feels nice even if you both aren’t biologically related to know you’ll always be family.
CW: SMUT, Major size difference for half (Hugh morris is the size of your hand.), nipple play, power bottom GN! reader, oral sex (hugh receiving.), cum play, unprotected sex, bad jokes, reader is assumed to be a deity/goddess/god to the miis, slightly rushed?, bad dad jokes
Really, he’s too cute.
He’s so small, the size of your hand but he works so hard to take care of you. He crawls up your naked body until he’s at your chest. You had some doubts about this whole thing, how could someone so small possibly please a being of perfection like you? But he promised and frankly you’re tired of your hands. You want to be touched, even if that’s by a man who looks like he’d get crushed if you tried to hug him.
He gives you a mischievous smile before he opens his annoying mouth; “Which animal has the largest chest? A z-bra.”
You groan at that bad joke until you feel his tiny tongue take a phew experimental licks at one of your nipples, making you jolt slightly at the new sensation. He watches you carefully before he finally takes the whole nipple in his mouth, he sucks and bites using more force than he’d normally use just to make sure you feel it more.
You whine tensing your thighs and bucking into the air, you never thought it would feel this good to be touched by something so human. Is this what it felt like for all humans? You suddenly felt like you were missing out. You wanted to be filled, to feel the warmth of your lover inside.
Hugh Morris let’s go of your nipple with a pop, it’s all puffy and sore and aching for more. But you can’t ignore what’s between your thighs, you got to reach your hand down but he stops you by reaching over and softly touching your hand.
“Let me.” He slides down to the space between your thighs, now dripping with slick. You almost debate sizing yourself down to be with him but you want to see what he does.
He stares for a second almost debating on what to do but then he grabs onto you, making you nearly clench up. Then the worst starts, he gently rubs in circles before using his own mouth to lick away some of your slick. He practically drinks it and you can feel him lapping it up, you close your eyes to feel it deeper. You can feel him massaging your sex up and down, his tongue tracing the rim.
You moan out desperately, “Hugh, I need more…” you feel so needy, it’s good but you feel like you need more. More of him, more of his touch. But to do that you’d need to start by getting him a bit wet.
You gently pull him off of you, he’s surprisingly resistant, too busy happily worshipping between your thighs to ever want to be separate. But you pull him up to your face. He looks almost mopey the fact you made him stop, until gently lick between his own thighs, making his sweet little jester costume get even wetter with your saliva. It was only somewhat wet before with your slick but now you could see the fabric stick to his dick.
You feel bad but not really as you rip a little hole in his costume where his crotch is. You hear a soft gasp as you do when Hugh Morris’s dick meets the cool air, luckily it doesn’t stay cold for long as your warm mouth finds it. He almost looks like he’s going to cry from pleasure as you gently move your tongue and lips.
His dick is so small you can barely feel it between your lips but from the way he moans and fidgets you can tell he does.
“Oh- shit so good..! ohmygod-” he babbles happily before finally bucking himself into you desperately chasing his own high. You almost want to tease and mock him but you hold back, it’s too cute seeing him so giddy and drunk off of you. “Gonn— gonna cum!” He whines suddenly before you can feel something small and warm hit your tongue in a pool. It’s smaller than a grain of salt and tastes sort of similar.
You don’t hesitate to gulp the tiny liquid down before you gently pull off his dick to set him beneath you. He almost looks spent, but his dick stands tall. You wonder if you made him that way or if he could just naturally be ready to go multiple rounds.
‘Doesn’t matter though, even if he wasn’t hard if he asked I could’ve just made him hard again.’ You think as you shrink yourself down to his size and watch as his eyes go wide at the sight. You never realized how big your world was compared to his until you could finally look him right in the eyes.
He somehow seemed even more nervous now you were the same size as him, he stuttered through another joke “What are the odds of slim shady becoming a woman and joining a convent?”
You somewhat ignore Hugh Morris as you push him back and perch yourself on top of him, stretching your hole slightly before you line it up.
“S-slim to nun. Oh-” He finishes as you finally shove yourself down, it hurts slightly because you didn’t prepare yourself enough clearly but you don’t care, you were too desperate to wait.
His cocky is chubby and thick, the perfect size as it stretches you open. You flop down on his chest, suddenly feeling tired from the work of it opening you up. His hands finds your hips soothingly rub circles on you, giving you a bit of encouragement to start moving.
It’s perfect as you bounce slowly picking up speed, it hits everywhere you like and his whines and pleads only fuel you more. His right hand finds your more sensitive outer parts and begins touching and stroking you. The stimulation is too good, the stretching of your insides and the feverish touches make you nearly cum on the spot but you hold it together barely.
He leans slightly forward to take your other nipple he didn’t get earlier into his mouth, this time he gets to take the whole thing in instead of just the tip.
You could feel yourself becoming addicted to this, the touches, his dick. Everything felt so good, and clearly you weren’t the only one feel the same way.
“Gonna cum- inside? Can I do it inside? Please-!” He groans bucking up into you, also chasing his high. You nod frantically, the idea of him leaking from your hole making you clench and finally sending you over the edge as you cum hard.
His hopes don’t stop though rocking you through it until finally you can hear and feel his orgasm arrive. Warmth flooding you downstairs as he throws his head back to cry out.
Your body goes limp against him and after he returns back to you, he wraps his arms around you in a comforting hug. You bury your face into the crook of his neck.
“Are you a beaver because dam.” He whispers and you finally burst out laughing.
THIS! My blogs are meant to be a safe place for me to write how I feel and to write how I want, my writing has ALWAYS been about inclusion and creating a safe place for EVERYONE. Yes this includes people of colour, disabled people and queer folks. Although I am not American I know a bit about their politics and I have friends who are in America right now struggling under the fascist administration.
So in short, get the FUCK off my blog if you do support ICE and Trump.
I’m always safe for those who create safety for others, never for the people who cause harm. 🩷
