#Assistant Hottie

[zepskies]

Assistant Hottie

Pairing: Jason Teague x F. Reader (implied Jason T. x Lana Lang)

Summary: Jason Teague, Assistant Football Coach, meets you in the faculty break lounge at Smallville High. He tries to kick you out, thinking you’re a student. Technically, you are. Turns out, you both go to the same university. 

AN: So I know it’s about 20 years late, but I’ve been wanting to write some Jason Teague for a while now. There’s a very dated reference to iPods (remember this show was circa early 2000s).

Word Count: 2,600 Tags/Warnings: Implied love triangle (quadrangle?), fluff, tinge of angst, and a meet cute.

“Hey, Coach T!”

Jason turns his head, shooting Clark Kent a smile that’s just a little bit forced. He slows down in the busy hallway so the younger man can catch up.

Clark’s friends, Chloe Sullivan and Lana Lang keep walking, though the brunette glances his way. Her hazel eyes catch his.

But Jason focuses on Clark, who’s coming at him with all six feet and three inches of farm boy earnestness.

Jason has City Boy Charm in his arsenal.

“What’s up, man?”

Clark smiles. “Real quick, just wanted to ask you about the drills we’re running today…”

Eighth period is about to start, meaning just another hour until school ends, and another day of practice begins on the football field. Clark takes all five minutes between classes to ask his questions about how he can better move the ball, his throwing technique, how to better communicate on plays with the rest of the guys.

As always, Jason gives Clark the best advice he has to offer. Even a few months into this job, he’s still feeling a bit of imposter syndrome. He’s only a couple of years older than the guys he’s coaching, and Clark is looking at him like he’s got all the answers.

Newsflash, champ. I don’t. Jason smiles though. 

Because Clark is something else. He’s a starting quarterback of a game he’s never played before in his life. Head Coach Quigley thought it was steroids at first, but Jason had a gut feeling about the guy.

“He’s not a cheater,” he’d told Quigley. The other man had scoffed, rubbing his chin.

“Okay, Teague. If you think so,” he said. “…Make him piss in a cup anyway.”

Since then, Clark hasn’t given Jason a reason to doubt him, at least on the field.

No, his reasons for still being wary of Clark are more…personal.

“All right, we’ll workshop the rest later on the field,” Jason says, as the starting bell rings. “You’re gonna be late for class.”

“Okay, see ya later.” Clark nods and holds up a hand in goodbye. To tell the truth, Jason is a little relieved to see him go.

Instead of heading to his office, he makes a pitstop at the faculty break lounge for a cup of coffee. He could use a little pick-me-up, even if it is from a watery K-cup.

When he pushes open the door, he’s greeted by the familiar smell of stale roasted hazelnut and microwaved fish. Along with the wall-to-wall countertop and refrigerator down the end, there’s a small round table fitted with just three chairs.

Uh oh, he thinks.

You’re sitting there with a pair of earbuds in, nodding to your music while you make notes with a red pen. The contents of your messenger bag are half-strewn across the table, displaying a couple of notebooks and binders, different colored highlighters, pens, and a post-it pad.

Your back is facing him, so he has to walk around the table to get your attention. He hesitates, before he taps your shoulder. He’s never had to do this before, and he’s actually a bit nervous.

“Hey there,” he says. His lips quirk when you jolt a little. You stare up at him with wide eyes and the top of your pen resting against your lower lip. 

“Uh…” You remove your ear buds and hit pause on your iPod.

“Did you get lost on the way to study hall, or you just here for the coffee?” Jason gestures to the Keurig machine on the counter. “Hate to break it to you, but that stuff’s not exactly quality joe.”

You blinked at him. “What? Um…I mean yeah, the coffee’s ass. But it is free, I guess.”

Jason tries to reign in his smile. He cards a hand through his blonde hair and taps his free hand on the table.

“Uh, are you ditching class or something?” he asks. “If it’s history, I get it. Snooze fest.”

He makes a flatlining motion with his hand. Your brows knit together in confusion…but then you brighten.

“Oh, I’m not a student,” you laugh. “But good on you for trying to lay down the law, Coach Teague.”

Now it’s Jason’s turn to be confused. “How did you know—”

You point with your red pen, over to the yellow patch emblazoned on his red polo that says: Crows Football and Assistant Coach.

“Pretty sure you’re the one the cheerleaders are calling Assistant Hottie,” you say. Your gaze is wry and a hint playful.

He lets himself smile, albeit with some embarrassment. He points at you.

“And you’re…”

“Part-time teacher’s aid,” you reply. Your hands make a frame around the stack of papers in front of you, that Jason now realizes you’re grading.

Great. His face warms a bit.

“Sorry,” he chuckles, and points to the coffee maker. “Let me just mind my business.”

He doesn’t know it, but you subtly watch him with a small smile while he goes about said business. The Keurig eventually spits out more roasted hazelnut into his Styrofoam cup.

With his prize in hand, he means to leave you in peace to head for his office, but your voice stops him.

“You can sit if you want. I need a break anyway.”

Jason can admit, at least to himself, that he’s curious. (About you.) He goes over to the table and sits down across from you. His eyes unconsciously dart over the splayed contents of your bag, and you don’t miss it.

“Sorry,��� you say, as you try to reign in the mess and corral things back into your bag. “I’m kind of an organized chaos kind of girl.”

“No worries. I dabble in that philosophy myself,” he says with a grin. “I’m Jason, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” you reply, giving him your name in return.

You like his smile. His long fingers are wrapped around the steaming cup. Meanwhile, the afternoon sun is pouring in from the windows behind him. It shines golden on his hair and broad shoulders, and makes his green eyes look warm.

Those eyes glance down and focus on a familiar badge sticking out of your bag. His brows furrow.

“No way. You go to Kansas A&M?” he asks. “So do I.”

You blink at him. “What, you’re still in college?”

He laughs and leans back in his chair, blowing out a breath.

“Okay, wow! A bit rude," he says. "Just how old do you think I am?”

You bite your lip in embarrassment.

“Second thought, don’t answer that,” he quips.

“I’m sorry,” you say, through a bit of laughter. “I guess we’re both reading each other wrong today.”

Jason shakes his head and crosses his arms.

“No, no. It’s fine,” he says airily. “Lest I be any more presumptuous, can I ask what year you’re in? Major?”

You concede with a nod, but you’re still smiling too hard.

“Secondary Education. Junior year,” you say. Jason’s brows raise with his grin still in place.

“Okay, a future teacher on our hands.” He leans forward. “As it turns out, I’m actually a sophomore.”

A year below you. You bury your reddened face in your hands, though a giggle still bubbles up.

He doesn’t let you stew in your misery for long though.

“Eh, it’s okay. Don’t feel too bad,” he says. You hear the smile in his voice, and you peek out at him from between your fingers. “I’m technically a year behind. Transferred from another school so I could take this job.”

Once again, your eyes widen as your hands fall away from your face.

“Oh, yeah? I assume you play football, but I’ve never seen you on the team…”

Jason’s smile turns playfully cocky.

“I don’t play anymore, but I’ll have you know, I was on track for the NFL.”

Yeah, for about a minute, comes a dull reminder in his brain.

You rest your chin in your hand as you meet his smile. “Okay. You definitely have the face of a guy who almost went pro.”

Your voice lowers at the end there, impersonating every “dude bro” you’ve ever met who thought he could throw a ball across a field.

“I’m serious.” Jason laughs, but then his eyes dim a bit. “I played for Metropolis U. Tore my rotator cuff, and uh…that’s it. Scrubbed. Had to start over.”

You dim along with him. “That sucks ass. I’m sorry.”

He snorts, almost spilling his coffee. “You’ve certainly got a way with words.”

“But you feel better for me calling you old, don’t you?” Your pen taps on your lip, and his eyes are drawn to the gesture.

He also notices your eyes, the shape of your face, the shade of your hair, the black Fleetwood Mac shirt (with a ripped V hinting at cleavage). It doesn’t exactly scream T.A., but you’re pretty.

Beautiful, really.

He tries not to notice that too much.

“Maybe a little,” he allows. He smiles behind a sip of his drink. It’s getting cold, as he forgets to actually drink it.

“My parents sent me to college to be a lawyer,” you confess. It perks his interest with raised brows. “Like my mom, and my uncle, and his father before him, and so on.”

Jason’s smile is back. You consider that a small triumph.

“I sat in one class. Intro to Business Law.” You shudder at the memory. “Jason, I wanted to bludgeon myself with the textbook. And it wouldn’t have taken long. That thing was the size of a Dostoyevsky novel.”

Jason laughs, even though he doesn’t know who Dostoyevsky is. It does unearth a distant memory of his 12th grade English class (he barely passed that one).

“So, I decided to disappoint them,” you say ruefully.

That, he understands all too well. He raises a finger at you. “Hey, a teacher’s respectable. But I happen to be an expert at disappointed parents, so you’re in good company.”

You smile, small but genuine. Jason counts that as a win.

“What’s your major now?” you ask.

“Sports medicine,” he replies, but you both hear the lack of enthusiasm in his voice.

Your head tilts, and your eyes soften. Not with pity, he thinks. Maybe with understanding.

“You could find something else you’re actually passionate about,” you say.

Jason bites the inside of his lip, sets his cup back on the table.

“Sure,” he says.

His lackluster answer is telling, and he can’t even think of a joke to inject into this moment to lighten the mood. (He even disappoints himself there.)

“Look, I get it,” you say at last. “You probably ate, slept, breathed that game. Like that’s what you were put on this earth to do. And I know you must’ve been good. Because the fact that this school hired you while you’re still in college is amazing.”

He meets your gaze steadily. 

Your smile brightens. “But I’m sure football’s not all there is to you.” 

That touches him. Warms him even, though he’s reluctant to let it. 

“We just met, and you’re already sure about that?” he remarks. 

You shrug, gesturing at his cup. “Well, I’m sure that you probably have crappy taste in coffee. I’m broke as hell, and even I don’t drink from a Keurig.” 

Jason laughs. If you only knew that he’d spent his summer in Paris, sampling some of the best restaurants and cafés in the world without even looking at the bill…until his dad cut him off. Needless to say, he’s had to refine his tastes.

“What kind of teacher do you want to be?” he asks, instead of getting to all that.

Your brow arches. “You mean what subject?”

“Yeah. What, like physics or something?”

“Ew. God, no!” 

“What’s wrong with physics?”

“Too much math. I’m shit at that shit,” you reply. 

“Okay. No to the sciences.” He laughs and rubs his chin, squinting at you. “Let me see if I can guess.”

You gesture widely. Go ahead.

“Not economics, I’m thinking. Too close to business,” he teases.

“Business law,” you correct. “But you’re actually right about that.”

“Hmm, history?”

“It's interesting, but it’s also rigged,” you say. “Only the victors in society get to dictate what gets remembered. Just look at Columbus Day. What a sham that is.”

Jason allows that with a nod and a smile. “All right, what then? Algebra? Geometry?”

“That’s math, remember?” you reply, with furrowed brows. “Besides, I don’t like mixing letters and numbers. It’s not sanitary.” 

He chortles at that. You’re a little ridiculous, but he kind of likes that.

“Okay, how about English?” he says.

Your gaze flicks up to his. A small, growing smile. 

“What makes you say that?” you ask. 

“Process of elimination?” he says. His smile curves. He saw your little reaction. “But I don’t know. I get the feeling you’re a hell of a lot smarter than me. The way you’re talking, all quick as a whip… Like I said, you’ve got a way with words.”

You laugh a little. “Oh, do I?” 

Jason’s brows raise expectantly as he leans back in his seat again.

Well, then? that move says. “Am I right?”

Your head tilts, and you answer the unspoken challenge in his eyes. You raise a finger and pull out one of your notebooks and you take up your red pen. You tap the top of it on your lip, in what seems to be your habit, and you begin to write on a clean piece of paper.

Your hand moves with purpose on each word. Jason watches you in curiosity. Though when you realize he’s staring hard at your paper, your free hand forms a wall against his probing eyes.

“No cheating,” you reproach.

He scoffs, but he waits for you to finish.

Finally, you tear off the piece of notebook paper, fold it up neatly, and you slide it over to him.

“What, are we passing notes now?” Jason can’t help but joke, even as he opens the little gift. “I thought we weren’t in class, Professor.”

You shake your head. “Just read it.”

He starts to, and his smile grows. He glances back up at you. “You wrote me a poem?”

“Just a little haiku.” You gesture at him to keep reading while you start to pack up your things. The alarm bell just tolled for the end of class, and you have another job to get to.

Jason’s eyes lower back down to the looping scrawl of your handwriting. His smile deepens into a smirk.

Assistant Hottie

You flatter me, see through me

Smarter than he thinks.

He stares at your words for a while. He rereads the last line a few times.

By the time he looks back up, your bag is packed and you’re standing, ready to go. You smile at him.

“See you on campus,” you say. “I also work at the Writing Center, if you ever need a spruce up on your essays.”

“Can I get you to rewrite my history paper?” he teases.

“Make an appointment,” you counter, still with that smile. “And we’ll see.”

You leave the faculty lounge, and Jason feels a suspicious jolt in his heart.

Something he immediately feels guilty about. 

Because the real reason he came back to Kansas is to continue his summer fling with Lana Lang, a senior at Smallville High. 

Well, to him, it’s not a fling. He used to think it was as close to love as he’s ever been. Recently though, he’s been getting the sense that she’s still hung up on her not quite ex, Clark Kent.

That’s not even the most complicated part.

She’s 18, and Jason’s barely 20, but their relationship could still one day be the reason he loses his job…

And maybe, any chance he might have of being friends with someone like you.

AN: Lol no shade to my sciences, history, and math people! Just creating a character. Let me know what you think! 😉

And if you liked this...

Read the Sequel!

Check out "Miss Professor" to continue reading. ❤️

Smallville Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Jason Tag List:

(Includes "Everything" tags + "JT" tags.)

@sleepyqueerenergy @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28

@charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @mrsjenniferwinchester @jc-winchester @fromcaintodean @deanbrainrotwritings @jackles010378 @akshi8278 @rachiem4-blog @waters-2567 @jessjad @sweettimelady @iprobablyshipit91 @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @lokigirl666 @xiphoidbones

[zepskies]

Thank you for recc'ing me, lovely!! 😘💕

October Reading Recs

To show some love and appreciation to all the amazing writers here on tumblr, here are all the fantastic fics I've read this month. 💖

Many of these fics and blogs are 18+ only, and NSFW please heed the author's individual fic warnings and requests regarding no minors. I am not responsible for your media consumption.

2023 Reading Recs List

Supernatural

Dean Winchester

The One That Got Away Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | @pink-sparkly-witch

Authors Summary: Childhood sweethearts, Dean and Y/N, are very much in love with each other. When she accepts a full scholarship to an out-of-state college, she finally gets to leave behind her traumatic childhood and abusive father, but it means leaving Dean behind too.

Over a decade later, Y/N returns to Lawrence, Kansas, and finally tries to heal the only wounds she has left… the psychological and emotional scars her father gave her and the heartbreak she endured by Dean Winchester, the one that got away.

Smoke Eater Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | @zepskies

Authors Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

Escape Chapter 66 | Chapter 67 | Chapter 68 | @soaringeag1e

Authors Summary: A serial killer is reeking havoc around Lawrence, Kansas, and Detective Dean Winchester is getting really sick of finding more and more bodies. But one day, he gets a call about another victim. But instead of the location of another body, he gets news that this one escaped the hell of this mans actions.

Massages And More @miss-madness67

Authors Summary: Dean really likes your massage.

Meant To Be Mine @negans-lucille-tblr

Authors Summary: A mix up leads to life changing consequences. 

Sam Winchester

Yellow @idreamofhazel

Authors Summary: I listened to Yellow by Coldplay and got inspired. 

Untitled Sam Winchester Drabble @supernaturalfreewill

Relax @imagineteamfreewill

Authors Summary: It’s almost the end of the semester and your schedule is jam-packed, leaving you stressed, overwhelmed, and overtired. Thankfully, Sam Winchester is the best at helping you relax.

Family Friends and Loved Ones @waywardxwords

Authors Summary: You make it home for Thanksgiving to see your family again, bringing Sam and Dean with you.

The Boys

Soldier Boy

New Blood @wayward-dreamer

Authors Summary: The executives at Vought American are enamoured by the new supe at the annual shareholders party, hoping to make her a new addition to Payback. Soldier Boy isn't pleased with the idea, as he's the only one who gets to decide who joins his team. He tells her this fact, and braces himself for a fight, but gets something much better out of their encounter.

Friday the 13th

Clay Miller

Flyers @plus-size-reader

Authors Summary: Going out with Clay to help look for Whitney and bonding with him in a way that you never have before

Friday The 13th (2009) @bored-writer101

Authors Summary: You are Clay Miller’s girlfriend. He’s taken you to the middle of bumfuck nowhere, looking for his sister, Whitney. She’s been missing for a month and a half after she went on a camping trip with some friends. You and Clay are determined to find her, but there is a hockey masked killer who is waiting in the woods for you.

Big Sky

Beau Arlen

Wonderwall @deanbrainrotwritings

Authors Summary: teasing beau during work and leaving without finishing. when he gets home he wants to pick up where they left off.

Only Ever Holding Onto You Part 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | @thebiggerbear

Authors Summary: When Beau Arlen called and asked Y/N to join him at the Lewis & Clark County Sheriff's Department, she knew she should have turned him down. Sure, he made a great case for her relocation, but it was the sound of his voice that had her put in for an immediate transfer. After all, he was worried and needed her; how could she say no? Yet, the more time she spends in Big Sky Country, the more Y/N wonders if she should have stayed in Houston.

Untitled Beau Arlen Drabble @smellingofpoetry

Montana Stars @spnbaby-67

Authors Summary Just cute one shot between Beau Arlen and his girl, Y/N.

Chicago Fire

Matt Casey

Better late than never @deanstead

Authors Summary: After witnessing Y/N’s interaction with Connor, Matt finally decides to tell her how he feels

Imagine: Seeing Matt at Molly's after returning to Chicago @deanstead

Untitled Matt Casey Drabble @deanstead

Authors Summary: Matt surprising his wife with a puppy

Ten Inch Hero

Boaz Priestly

Movie Night To Remember @daughterofcain-67

Authors Summary: In honor of spooky season, The Beach City Grill is throwing a Horror movie night event by putting on the movie Scream! The employees are excited, and so are some of the regulars. Your friends, Piper, Jen and Tish invite you to come because she knows you're another regular at the grill. But the thing is, you hate scary movies, crime shows or anything dealing with blood. Which will be scarier? Actually watching this movie, or embarrassing yourself in front of a guy you like?

The Body @deanbrainrotwritings

Authors Summary: tish dared priestly to wear a dress to work in exchange for a week off.

Smallville

Jason Teague

Assistant Hottie @zepskies

Authors Summary: Jason Teague, Assistant Football Coach, meets you in the faculty break lounge at Smallville High. He tries to kick you out, thinking you’re a student. Technically, you are. Turns out, you both go to the same university. 

[thevulcantrekkie]

I had an awesome time at popcon Louisville! I met Ethan peck (Spock!!!!) and he was so nice and cute! I even got butterflies in my stomach when I got within 10 feet of him because of my crush on him. His voice was even sexier in person. And even though Anson was there too, I only caught a single glimpse of him. I didn’t get to talk to him even though I wanted to. I DID get to talk to Ethan and he was surprisingly easy to talk to despite the aforementioned crush on him. AND THERE WASN’T EVEN A LINE TO SEE HIM!!!! I went up to him twice, TWICE!!!!😃😃😃😃 When I went up to his table the first time, HE GRINNED AND WAVED AT ME!!!!And when I left his table the first time, HE SMILED AT ME AGAIN!!!! And it was a cute smile!! I barely managed to keep it together around him. I was definitely a little star struck while talking to him. He was so nice and friendly. Even my mom thought Ethan was cute.

[wolveria]

What faceclaim does Kenneth have? Like if an actor would play him, who would you choose?

Domhnall Gleeson! Think more disheveled and long hair

Thanks to @corundumb for brainstorming this with me

[sucroseanddy]

Got the layout done and amazing 😻. Expecting more from all of my tags 🏷️ please help the boy to grow 🙏

[zepskies]

Don’t mind me, just rewatching season 4 of Smallville for this delight. 😂

JENSEN ACKLES AS JASON TEAGUE | SMALLVILLE

[covid-safer-hotties]

Hi! I'm Nadica and I run CovidSafe(er)Hotties Tumblr, Discord, and Archive. I'm a high-risk trans woman living in the Southern US, and I've been underemployed since the pandemic began. I was doing alright financially until my long-time girlfriend broke things off about this time last year, and since then, I've been struggling to make ends meet. Thankfully, she provides me with some financial assistance (since she couldn't take any of our animals with her when she left), meaning at least one of my bills gets paid every month, but with rising grocery costs and still no line on solid full-time employment, I'm struggling to make rent and pay for HRT bloodwork/etc. If you appreciate what I do and you have a buck or two burning a hole in your pocket, I'd really appreciate your support. It's hard work finding, sharing, and cataloging all the covid news, science, sources of info, and other content as well as running and moderating a community. All my links are on the official archive webpage (which is linked below). Note: My deadname is attached to half of those, but it me. Thanks in advance to anyone who even considers helping me out!

[kiesbrainjuice]

— HOW THEY WOULD BE AT YOUR FIRST MATCH AS HIS GIRLFRIEND ! nekoma

pairings (separate) : kenma x fem!reader; kuroo x fem!reader; yamamoto x fem!reader

warnings : none, pure fluff

synopsis : with their team they assist to one of your match for the first time as your boyfriend and how they act.

word count : 1.4k

As……sat with the rest of the Nekoma volleyball team, observing your match together for the first time as a couple, the gymnasium was alive with the energy of competition. The squeaking of shoes on the polished floor, the sharp smacks of palm against volleyball, and the thunderous cheers from the crowd created an electric atmosphere. Each member of the team had their own distinct reactions and interactions, adding depth and commentary to the scene unfolding on the court.

KOZUME KENMA

Kenma, with his usual composed demeanor and sharp focus, was sitting attentively, his cat-like yellow eyes fixed on you as you moved across the court with agility and skill. His fingers twitched slightly, as if itching to set a ball himself. Beside him, Kuroo Tetsurou, Nekoma's charismatic captain and Kenma's closest friend, couldn't resist teasing him.

"Hey, Kenma," Kuroo whispered teasingly, nudging him lightly with an elbow. "Looks like you've got yourself quite the talented girlfriend there. Bet she could kick your ass on the court, huh?"

Kenma glanced at Kuroo, a faint blush tinting his cheeks, though his expression remained calm. "Shut up, asshole," he replied softly, a hint of pride in his voice as he watched you execute a perfect receive.

On Kenma's other side, Yamamoto Taro, the enthusiastic and lively wing spiker, leaned forward eagerly, nearly falling off his seat in excitement. His mohawk seemed to quiver with each point you scored.

"Holy shit, did you see that spike?" Yamamoto exclaimed, his voice carrying a mix of admiration and excitement. "Your girl's a fucking beast out there, Kenma!"

Lev Haiba, the towering middle blocker known for his straightforward nature, nodded enthusiastically, his long legs bouncing with pent-up energy. "Damn straight! I wish I could spike like her," he remarked, his admiration evident as he watched your every move with awe. "Maybe she could teach me a thing or two, eh Kenma?"

Yaku Morisuke, the meticulous libero with a keen eye for detail, observed with a nod of approval. His sharp eyes followed your movements, analyzing your technique with professional interest.

"Her defensive plays are solid as fuck," Yaku noted, his voice quiet yet filled with appreciation for your technique and strategy. "She's got some serious skills, no wonder Kenma's into her."

Inuoka Sou, the energetic and enthusiastic wing spiker who often wore his heart on his sleeve, leaned towards Lev with a mischievous grin. His spiky hair seemed to bristle with excitement as he watched the match.

"Hey Lev, think she'd mind dating a guy who's always this hyper?" he joked, earning a playful shove from Lev in response. "Or is she more into the quiet, brooding type like our Kenma here?"

Kenma, who was usually more focused on strategy and analysis, found himself enjoying the banter and camaraderie of his teammates. Despite his reserved nature, he appreciated the playful teasing and supportive atmosphere they created around him. However, as the match progressed and the comments became more frequent, he started to feel a bit overwhelmed.

Kuroo, noticing Kenma's growing discomfort, couldn't help but push a little further. "Come on, Kenma, spill the beans. How'd a gaming nerd like you land such a hottie?"

That struck a nerve with Kenma, who was feeling a bit more sensitive than usual. His fingers clenched tightly around the edge of his seat, knuckles turning white.

"For fuck's sake, Kuroo, can you lay off?" he muttered, his tone sharper than intended. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes briefly narrowing as he refocused on the match, trying to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks.

Yamamoto, sensing Kenma's discomfort, quickly changed the subject, trying to lighten the mood. His voice boomed across their section of the bleachers, drawing curious glances from nearby spectators.

"Holy crap, look at that save!" he exclaimed, clapping enthusiastically. "[Name] really knows how to keep us on our toes. She's got reflexes like a damn cat!"

Lev, noticing Kenma's reaction, exchanged a concerned glance with Inuoka. His usual carefree expression sobered as he realized they might have taken the teasing too far.

"Hey, Kenma, sorry if we're being assholes," Lev said sincerely, his usual straightforward demeanor softened. "We're just stoked for you, you know?"

Kenma glanced at Lev, his expression softening slightly. The tension in his shoulders eased a bit as he realized his teammates' intentions were good, even if their execution was lacking.

"It's fine," he replied quietly, his tone more resigned now. "Just… dial it back a notch, okay?"

Yaku, ever perceptive, decided to steer the conversation back to the game. He leaned forward, his eyes never leaving the court as he spoke.

"Alright, you bunch of idiots, let's focus on supporting [Name]," he suggested calmly, his voice a reassuring presence amidst the playful banter. "Save the relationship gossip for later, yeah?"

As the match continued, Kenma gradually eased back into his usual focused state, his mind analyzing the game and your strategic plays. He appreciated his teammates' support and their willingness to lift his spirits, even when their teasing occasionally rubbed him the wrong way.

Throughout the rest of the match, the gymnasium echoed with cheers and encouragement from the Nekoma team. Kuroo's strategic insights, Yamamoto's enthusiastic shouts, Lev's amazed gasps, Yaku's approving nods, and Inuoka's excited commentary all blended together, creating a symphony of support for you on the court.

Kenma found himself swept up in the excitement, his usual reserved demeanor giving way to small smiles and quiet words of encouragement. He realized that despite their occasional teasing and crude language, he was lucky to have teammates who cared about him and respected his feelings, making the experience of being your boyfriend and a member of the Nekoma team all the more meaningful.

As the final whistle blew and you emerged victorious, Kenma felt a surge of pride. He stood up with the rest of his team, ready to congratulate you on your win, grateful for the unique and boisterous family he had found in Nekoma.

TESTURO KUROO

Amidst this chaos, Kuroo Tetsurou sat with his team, his sharp hazel eyes fixed on the court where you were playing. It was the first time he was watching you compete since you'd started dating, and the usually composed captain found himself on the edge of his seat.

Kuroo's wild black hair seemed even more disheveled than usual, a testament to the number of times he'd run his hands through it in excitement. His trademark smirk played on his lips, widening every time you made a particularly impressive play. The red jersey of Nekoma stretched across his broad shoulders as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

Beside him, Kenma Kozume sat hunched over his handheld game, the blue light illuminating his face. Despite his apparent disinterest, Kenma's cat-like eyes flicked up to the court periodically. During a lull in the game, he nudged Kuroo with his elbow.

"Your girlfriend's not half bad," Kenma muttered, thumbs still working the controls of his game. "Maybe she could teach you a thing or two about receiving."

Kuroo's grin widened, revealing teeth that glinted in the gymnasium's harsh lighting. "Oya? Sounds like someone's jealous. Don't worry, Kenma, you're still my favorite setter. No one sets a ball quite like you do."

Yamamoto Taketora, sitting on Kuroo's other side, was a stark contrast to Kenma's calm. The wing spiker was practically vibrating with excitement, his mohawk quivering with each enthusiastic movement. He leaned forward so far he was almost falling off his seat, eyes wide as saucers.

"Holy shit, Kuroo!" Yamamoto bellowed, his voice carrying over the crowd noise. "Did you see that spike? Your girl's a fucking monster! She just blew past their blockers like they were standing still!"

Kuroo chuckled, a deep, rich sound that rumbled in his chest. "Language, Yamamoto," he admonished without any real heat. "But yeah, she's pretty incredible, isn't she?" Pride colored his voice, his eyes softening as they followed your movements on the court.

Lev Haiba, all 194 centimeters of him folded awkwardly into the spectator seats, craned his neck to see over the heads in front of him. His green eyes were wide with wonder, a childlike enthusiasm painted across his features.

"Kuroo-san," Lev called out, voice filled with awe, "do you think she'd teach me how to spike like that? It was so cool! The ball just went 'whoosh' and then 'bam'!"

"In your dreams, string bean," Kuroo laughed, reaching over to ruffle Lev's silver hair. "You've got a long way to go before you're on her level. Maybe focus on receiving first, eh?"

Yaku Morisuke, the team's libero, sat with his arms crossed, a look of professional appreciation on his face. His sharp eyes hadn't left the court once, analyzing every move and play.

"Her receives are solid as fuck," Yaku commented, nodding approvingly. "She's got quick reflexes and good form. No wonder she caught your eye, Kuroo. You always did have a thing for skilled players."

"What can I say?" Kuroo shrugged, his casual tone belying the warmth in his eyes as he watched you seamlessly transition from defense to offense. "I've got excellent taste. In volleyball and in partners."

Inuoka Sou, unable to contain his excitement, was practically bouncing in his seat. His spiky hair seemed to stand even more on end as he turned to Kuroo, eyes shining with curiosity.

"Man, Kuroo-san, how'd you score such a badass girlfriend?" Inuoka asked, voice filled with a mixture of awe and mischief. "Did you use some of that sneaky captain charm? Or was it the hair?"

Kuroo raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning decidedly mischievous. The gymnasium lights caught the angles of his face, accentuating his sharp features. "Now, now, Inuoka. A gentleman never kisses and tells. But let's just say my killer looks and sparkling personality didn't hurt. Plus, I can be pretty persuasive when I want to be."

The team erupted in a mixture of groans and laughter. Even Kenma looked up from his game, rolling his eyes but unable to completely hide the small smile tugging at his lips.

"Your head's getting too big, Kuro," Kenma muttered, using the childhood nickname that only he was allowed to use. "It'll affect your jump serves. You won't be able to get off the ground."

"Aw, don't be like that, Kenma," Kuroo grinned, draping a long arm around his friend's shoulders and pulling him close despite Kenma's half-hearted protests. "You know you love me. Who else would set for you during our late-night practices?"

As the match progressed, the team's commentary became more animated. Kuroo found himself caught between watching you play and managing his rambunctious teammates, his captain instincts kicking in even off the court.

"Oi, Lev!" Kuroo barked, noticing the first-year's wandering attention. "Stop drooling and pay attention to her footwork. You might actually learn something useful for once."

Lev straightened up so quickly he almost toppled backwards, eyes wide. "Yes, Kuroo-san! I'll watch carefully!"

Yamamoto, never one to miss an opportunity for mischief, leaned in with a sly grin on his face. "So, captain," he drawled, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, "when are you gonna show us some of those moves off the court? You must have some pretty smooth lines to land a girl like that."

Kuroo's eyes narrowed playfully, a dangerous glint in them that made Yamamoto gulp. "Careful, Yamamoto. Don't make me assign you extra diving drills at practice. I'm sure Yaku would be more than happy to spike for you."

"Shit, sorry!" Yamamoto backpedaled quickly, hands up in surrender. "Just curious, you know? No harm meant!"

Yaku snorted from his seat, a smirk playing on his lips. "As if Kuroo needs any encouragement to show off. He's got an ego the size of Tokyo Tower."

"You wound me, Yaku," Kuroo placed a hand over his heart in mock hurt, his expression one of exaggerated pain. "I'm the very picture of modesty. A paragon of humility. A beacon of-"

"Bullshit," Kenma interrupted, not looking up from his game.

This elicited a chorus of disbelieving snorts and chuckles from the team. Even Kuroo couldn't keep a straight face, his laugh joining the others.

As the match neared its end, the energy in the gymnasium reached a fever pitch. The score was close, and every point was crucial. Kuroo found himself on his feet, previous cool demeanor forgotten as he shouted encouragement.

"Come on, babe! Show 'em what you've got!" he yelled, voice hoarse from cheering. His fists were clenched at his sides, body tense as if he could will you to victory through sheer force of will. "You've got this! One more point!"

When the final whistle blew, signaling your team's victory, Kuroo let out a whoop of joy that was nearly drowned out by the roar of the crowd. He turned to his team, grinning from ear to ear, pride and excitement radiating from every pore.

"That's my girl," he said, voice filled with a intoxicating mixture of pride, admiration, and a hint of playful challenge. "Think any of you can top that performance? Because that, gentlemen, is what we're aiming for."

Lev, ever eager to prove himself, jumped up so quickly he knocked Inuoka's drink over. "I'll train hard, Kuroo-san! I'll be just as amazing someday! Maybe even better!"

"That's the spirit, rookie," Kuroo laughed, slinging an arm around Lev's shoulders. Despite the height difference, Kuroo managed to make the gesture look effortlessly cool. "But for now, let's go congratulate the real star of the show. And remember, best behavior, cats. We're representing Nekoma."

As they made their way down to the court, pushing through the crowds of spectators, Kuroo felt a surge of affection - for you, for his sometimes annoying but always entertaining team, for this crazy, volleyball-filled life he led. He might give them hell during practice, but moments like these reminded him why he loved being Nekoma's captain.

"Alright, you bunch of alley cats," he called out to his team, voice carrying over the post-game chaos. "Let's show [Name] how Nekoma celebrates a victory! And if any of you embarrass me, I'll make sure you regret it at our next practice."

With a chorus of cheers, catcalls, and a few nervous gulps, the Nekoma team descended upon the court. They were ready to celebrate your win and, despite Kuroo's warning, no doubt find new and creative ways to tease their captain. But as Kuroo's eyes found you amidst the crowd, your face flushed with victory and eyes shining, he knew he wouldn't have it any other way. This was his team, this was his life, and he was loving every minute of it.

YAMAMOTO TAKETORA

But no one in the building was more fired up than Yamamoto Taketora. The wing spiker with the signature mohawk was practically vibrating in his seat, his eyes wild with enthusiasm as he watched you dominate the court.

"HELL YEAH!" Yamamoto roared, pumping his fist in the air as you scored another point. His voice, always loud, seemed to shake the very foundations of the gym. "That's my girlfriend out there! Did you see that spike? Holy shit!"

Kuroo, sitting next to him, winced and rubbed his ear. "Yamamoto, we're right here. No need to burst our eardrums."

But Yamamoto was too hyped to care. He leapt to his feet, nearly knocking over Kenma's handheld game in the process. "Sorry, cap! I can't help it! She's just so… so… AWESOME!"

Kenma sighed, rescuing his game console from Yamamoto's flailing arms. "We know, Tora. You've only said it about a hundred times in the last ten minutes."

"But Kenma!" Yamamoto whirled around, eyes blazing with passion. "Did you see how she received that serve? It was like… like… GWAH! And then BOOM!" His arms windmilled wildly, nearly taking out Lev in the process.

Lev ducked just in time, his long limbs tangling as he tried to avoid Yamamoto's enthusiastic gestures. "Yamamoto-senpai, please be careful! But you're right, [Name]-san is amazing! How did you get such a cool girlfriend?"

Yamamoto's chest puffed out with pride, a grin splitting his face from ear to ear. "Well, you see, Lev, it's all about confidence! You gotta be bold, you gotta be brave! You gotta-"

"You gotta stop scaring every girl in school with your loud voice and intense staring," Yaku interrupted dryly, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Yaku-san!" Yamamoto wailed, clutching his heart as if mortally wounded. "How could you say that? I'll have you know, [Name] loves my passion!"

Inuoka leaned forward, eyes wide with curiosity. "But seriously, Yamamoto-senpai, how did you and [Name]-san start dating? You used to get so nervous around girls!"

Yamamoto's face softened, a rare moment of calm settling over his usually energetic features. "Well, you see…" he began, but was cut off by a collective gasp from the crowd.

You had just pulled off an incredible save, diving to keep a seemingly impossible ball in play. Without missing a beat, Yamamoto was on his feet again, bellowing at the top of his lungs.

"THAT'S MY GIRL! DID YOU SEE THAT? DID YOU FREAKING SEE THAT?" He turned to his teammates, eyes wild with excitement. "Tell me you saw that! It was like… like… she flew! Like a tiger! A flying tiger!"

Kuroo chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "We saw it, Yamamoto. The whole gym saw it. And heard you."

But Yamamoto was beyond caring about volume control or public decorum. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "[NAME]! YOU'RE AMAZING! YOU'RE THE BEST! I LOVE YOU!"

His face immediately turned beet red as he realized what he'd just yelled in front of the entire gymnasium. The Nekoma team stared at him in shock for a moment before bursting into laughter and cheers.

"Wow, Yamamoto," Lev grinned, clapping him on the back. "That was so cool! So brave!"

Kenma, despite himself, cracked a small smile. "Well, that's one way to confess."

Yamamoto sank back into his seat, face burning but eyes still fixed on you. "I… I didn't mean to say that out loud," he mumbled, but there was no real regret in his voice.

Kuroo draped an arm around Yamamoto's shoulders, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Well, well, well. Our little Tora is all grown up. Confessing his love in front of the whole school. I'm so proud."

"Shut up," Yamamoto grumbled, but he couldn't keep the smile off his face. "It just… came out."

As the match neared its end, Yamamoto's energy seemed to only increase. He was on his feet for every point, cheering so loudly that people in the next prefecture could probably hear him. When the final whistle blew, signaling your team's victory, Yamamoto let out a roar that put his previous shouts to shame.

"WE WON! [NAME] WON! DID YOU SEE THAT? MY GIRLFRIEND IS THE BEST VOLLEYBALL PLAYER IN THE WORLD!"

Before anyone could stop him, Yamamoto was vaulting over the seats, pushing through the crowd to get to the court. The rest of the Nekoma team scrambled to follow, equal parts amused and mortified by their teammate's antics.

As they reached the edge of the court, Yamamoto skidded to a halt, suddenly nervous. You were there, flushed with victory, surrounded by your celebrating teammates. Yamamoto's usual bravado faltered for a moment as the reality of his public confession sank in.

Kuroo gave him a gentle push forward. "Go on, tiger. Your flying tiger is waiting."

Taking a deep breath, Yamamoto stepped onto the court. His face was a mixture of nervousness and unbridled joy as he approached you. The rest of the Nekoma team watched, grinning, as their boisterous wing spiker prepared to face his greatest challenge yet: talking to his girlfriend after accidentally confessing his love in front of the entire school.

As embarrassing as it was, Yamamoto wouldn't have had it any other way. This was who he was - loud, passionate, and utterly devoted. And as he saw the smile bloom on your face when you spotted him, he knew that's exactly why you loved him too.

@kiesbrainjuice do not copy or translate !

[zepskies]

Hi! So I recently started watching Smallville and I was wondering if you knew of any Jason Teague fics that don’t have spoilers, for some reason I’m becoming slightly impatient to meet the character and can’t get this character out of my head lol

Hi there, lovely!

Ooh, great question. I can recommend my own Jason Teague story, "Assistant Hottie," as it's not spoiler heavy.

(I may or may not be working on a sequel to this one. 🤭)

But, I think without at least the basic context of the character, you wouldn't connect with it as much unless you've seen the show.

@mind-empty-just-fictional-people has also written for Jason (her JT Masterlist here).

My advice to you is to just power through the first 3 seasons of Smallville until you get to S4 lol. The context will be worth it, I promise you, but thank you so much for asking! 💕💕

Ain't he adorable?

[harunayuuka2060]

Neige: MC! 🌸🌸🌸

MC: ...

MC: What is it, Neige? You are quite energetic today.

Neige: We're going to have another class reunion in RSA! It will be tomorrow! Be sure to be there!

MC: ...

MC: Neige, I don't think you should be inviting me in another class reunion.

Neige: Eh? *sad frowns* Why?

MC: I was not a student of Royal Swords Academy. And I only accompanied you last time because I was a concierge and you were my client.

Neige: *pouts* But the reunion is not about being students or not! *then giggles* The others will be bringing their significant others too!

Che'nya: That's right, nya! *hugs MC from behind* *resting his chin on their shoulder*

MC: More of a reason I shouldn't come. I'm not anyone's significant other.

Che'nya: Me? :3

MC: ...

Neige: *giggles* See? So please, MC? Promise me you'll be there or else I will be mad at you. *pouts*

MC: ...

MC: *sigh* Fine. I will inform Vil that I won't be able to assist him on that day.

Neige: Yay!

Che'nya: We should wear matching clothes nya! :3

MC: I don't want to.

Che'nya: *whispers* I'm changing your wardrobe.

MC: ...

Vil: Is there really a need for you to come?

MC: I was pressured.

Vil: ...

Vil: In that case, I'll be going with you.

MC: Huh?

Vil: If Neige is inviting an outsider, then I'm guessing it's fine that I tag along.

MC: ...

Vil: I'll ask Neige myself. If he refuses, you won't go.

MC: ...

MC: Alright.

The RSA alumni: Neige~! Che'nya~!

Che'nya and Neige: Hello, guys~!

MC and Vil: ...

Vil: *mutters* They're like kids.

MC: ...

Che'nya: I thought some of you would bring your lovers today nya?

Neige: Were they unable to join us?

Classmate A: Yes. My wife is busy, but she wants me to enjoy so it's fine if I don't come home early.

Classmate B: Which I'm sure you won't do. You'll leave after 15 minutes.

Classmate A: Hey!

Classmate A: ...I'll stay for 30 minutes.

Classmate B: See?

Classmate C: Oh! And MC! It's nice to see you again!

MC: *nods* *then smiles* Likewise.

Classmate C: I heard from Neige that Che'nya didn't leave you and is currently staying at your house.

Classmate C: He's really putting up that fence, huh?

MC: ...

MC: I don't think I understand.

Vil: ...

Che'nya and Neige's classmates: *are starting to get enthusiastic with their conversation*

Classmate D: Neige! I asked you to recommend me with someone!

Classmate D: You knew I'm single! And a hottie attended our reunion last time and you didn't introduce me!

Che'nya: Nyahaha~! Like I'd even let you come close. :3

His other classmates: *laughs*

Vil: ...

Vil: *whispers to MC* I'm bored. We should take our leave.

MC: *nods* I'll tell Neige and Che'nya.

Classmate A: So, Che'nya? When are you going to introduce MC as your significant other?

Che'nya: Hmmm... *smiles* Next time! Once MC accepts I'm serious about them!

MC: !!!

Vil: ...

Neige: *chuckles* MC is blushing.

MC: ...I'm not.

Vil: ...

Vil: *stood up from his seat* My apologies, there's somewhere MC and I need to be.

RSA alumni: It's okay!

MC: Che'nya-

Che'nya: It's fine nya~. I'll see you at home~! :3

MC: ...

MC: Yes. We'll talk at home.

Vil: ...

Vil: MC, let's go.

Vil: ...

Vil: What do you feel about Che'nya?

MC: Huh?

Vil: ...

Vil: Do you think you can fall for him?

MC: ...

MC: If I'm being honest...

MC: I might have already, Vil.

Vil: ...

Vil: Huh. You're still not sure then.

MC: Yes. Even so, he's the only person who has stayed with me and openly says he likes me. *smiles to themselves*

Vil: ...

[lholland14]

Error: Name Unknown

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader

Summary: When you vs the Paige Bueckers in her own game, but don't know who she is.

Warnings: Somewhat suggestive? Also, I have no idea who most of the UCONN basketball team is SORRYYYY I JUST FOUND OUT PAIGE AND IM OBBSESSED!! Also this isn't edited so if you find anything pls tell me and I'll fix it.

---------

The annual Sport Swap, the day where all UCONN athletes show off their athletic ability by playing other UCONN teams of different sports in different games. The staff would randomly choose two teams to face off in a series of random sports determined by a spinning wheel. 

It was electrifying.  

It was your day, as someone who played soccer, this day was a chance to show off. You were a newer athlete, but that didn't mean you weren't popular, fans began noticing you after pulling of a 2 goal comeback and an assist against St. John in the last 15 minutes of the game winning 3-2. Ever since then you were highly regarded as the "Comeback Kid" of UCONN and was shortly named captain, even with that title though, Paige Bueckers was the one to watch. Winning award after award, game after game, heart after heart.

"Okay! Everyone gather around!" Your coach yelled into the clamouring locker room, "The competition is out and I think you're gonna be happy about it this year!" 

You and your teammates sprung out of the tightly packed locker room and into the meeting room with a slide show on titled "SPORTS SWAP". As soon as everyone was settled down your coach lectured you all on being good sports and how everyone is winners. 

To be honest, you had tuned out long before he had began talking. He finally garnered your attention when it was time to reveal who you were playing.

He clicked a button and he slide switch to reveal the highly anticipated words, "UCONN WOMEN'S SOCCER VS WOMEN'S BASKETBALL" 

Your teammates paled at the though of having to compete against the 6ft tall team of total hotties, you, however, didn't understand the fear. Being a younger player in a much more rigorous major you didn't get out much, in fact you never went out, or watched a lot of TV, including certain games starring a certain blonde haired girl. 

Your coach began ushering your solum team into the basketball court where the girl's basketball team was waiting to hear what sports you'd all be playing. The moment you opened the court's doors your team was welcomed with loud music, laughter and cringy dances by the basketball team. 

You smiled, but on the inside you hated it, you hated how cocky they were. You never met them, or seen or watched them, but you hated them. Their smirks and loud music in a dominant way to show that they simply didn't care. 

They knew that they would win. All you and your team was to them was dust on the pedestals. Tattered challengers  standing before gods, someone they could merely dismiss without a thought. 

Your blood boiled at this, and with a defiant look and steeled nerves you asked your teammates who the most famous one is out of the group.

"Paige Bueckers, she's the blond one with braids." Your friend replied staring heart eyes at the 6ft tall girl with piercing blue eyes. You simply rolled your eyes in response, earning a shove from the girl.

"Settle down everyone!" Geno yelled, "I'll be spinning the wheel soon to determine what sports we will be playing today." The basketball girl's screeched in response, yours remaining dead silent.

He began spinning the wheel landing on ice hockey (cue the groans), cheerleading (out of the corner of your eye you could see a younger girl joking rub shoulders with the blue blue eyed blondie you were told about earlier) and finally, basketball.

The final spin landed on basketball, you could visibly see your teammates hearts sink as the other girls erupted in screams. Geno turned to us in apology offering to do another spin, just as your teammates agreed to this you asserted a cold no.

He sighed, and told us to skate up.

~~HOCKEY~~

You had to admit, it was pretty funny to see both teams just slide across the ice in various positions (none of them correct). Both teams not even bothering to play anymore, just running out the clock in order to show off their "skill". 

By skill you meant how long one could stay standing, and that record was held by a girl named KK on the basketball team, her record? 15 seconds. Other various skills included how many players one person could take out in the least amount of time currently held by you.

It just happened so fast, one minute you were standing hunched, arms sprayed out in hopes for finding balance, but instead finding the stomach of a certain blonde haired girl and the mouth of you teammate. Desperately needing balance you accidentally swung out and clutched onto the girl, effectively knocking your teammate onto the ground. However, Bueckers wasn't so balanced herself and began skating backwards due to the sudden force your body had. With each backward step you two knocked down three other played before tripping over a random 6'3 body.

Landing softly, thanks to girl whose shoulders you were clinging onto, whose hands are on your thighs that were currently straddling her waist. As you slowly lifted up your sweaty body from hers you felt the shock that came from unconsciously grinding on her abs after her shirt rode up. The shock sent waves of red onto both yours and hers face, breathing heavily you stood back up, and stuck your hand out to help the blonde haired girl. She sheepishly grinned in response, the cocky smirk wiped from her face and onto yours.

You didn't even notice the long forgotten puck sliding slowly into your goal.

Point Basketball team.

~~CHEERLEADING~~ 

"Lets gooooo!!!" KK screamed the moment we entered the gym. As you continue walking to the middle of the gym you could feel the intensity of Paige's eyes at the back of your head. Was she really check you out? With your mind of occupied by the blue eyed beauty you failed to notice the pom poms set out by Geno, and because you're a tad dramatic ...you screamed, thinking it was a spider.

Both teams erupted in laughter as your teammates ran to help you up, heat rushing to your face due to embarrassment, not because you can still feel the heat of Paige's hands on your waist, and definitely not because the same girl was staring at you with a lopsided smile. 

"Well, I guess Y/n has volunteered her team to go first!" Geno clapped your coach's back with a grin, while the rest of your team groaned and walked over to the pom poms. After 20 minutes of practice, trying to choose a song and props your team was ready and rearing to go. 

With you donning ridiculous white sunglasses and a plastic poofy skirt, you took your place at the center of the gym. The moment the music Apple Bottom Jeans played you started dancing, only stopping when a teammate fell or was laughing too hard to continue, finally ending with the last pose, one hand on your hip and the other in the air with smug eyes and a goofy smile.

Honestly, Paige didn't know if it was hot or the most adorable thing she has ever seen. The way your curved hips swayed with the music, or how the skirt was showing off your ass perfectly. Your goofy smile and the way you were the first to help a teammate, either way, Paige Bueckers was hooked. 

Her teammates could tell too, the way she would just gravitate towards you, how she would look at you for approval when she did a move correctly, tripping over her feet the moment your eyes locked into her's. 

And thanks to your quick observational skills, point you.

Well, Point Soccer team.

~~Basketball~~

The court was buzzing with excitement, with countless students coming in just to see Paige the basketball team dominate a team no one has heard of, but with your 5'7 frame and hidden skills you were determined to win. Unbeknownst to the basketball girls, your team actually played basketball frequently, practicing teamwork, communication and trick shots. Along with UCONN had offered you both a soccer and basketball full ride scholarship, but no one knew about that. 

After both teams came out it was clear to everyone who the audience preferred, the moment Paige came out the students cheered and you were pretty sure you could here girls begging Paige to fuck them. You'd be lying if you hadn't had that exact same though ping through your head at least once today. 

With you facing off for the ball against a someone named Aaliyah, you didn't even bother jumping against her 6'3 frame, instead opting to go behind her in order to steal the ball from KK. The moment the ball was in your grasp you hurled the ball towards the basket, and a loud buzzer played, signifying the bucket you just made. The crowd was dead silent, then cheered so loudly, you fell out of surprise, falling right into Paige.. again. 

"That was insane ma," She murmured against your eye, her hot breath fanning your neck causing you to shiver involuntarily. You just bowed your head in response to the praise, heat spreading to your face and to your core.

With the crowd not settling down anytime soon, you returned to your position. Nodding to your teammates in unison. You had a game plan, you had each others backs and you were going to win. 

With multiple well timed passes, a couple of threes and some insane dunks preformed by your team, you were well ahead of the actual basketball team. 

And they were pissed.

Paige was laughing and cheering and smiling, until, she wasn't. Until she started to get annoyed how you were beating her. She was the record breaker, you weren't. She was a god at this school, you, well you were a nobody.

After you had just scored a three that Paige thought was hot, she started guarding you more closely.

"Who are you?" You breathed out behind her body, trying to block you from getting the ball.

"Paige, Paige Bueckers" She managed to gasp out, her body was totally gassed from the earlier events.

"What? Are you famous or something?" You cocked an eyebrow that you knew would only agitate her more. 

"You could say that" 

With her momentarily distracted your teammate passed the ball to you in the final seconds.

"Really?" You smirked, "because you seem," throwing the ball in a no-look half court basket, the way you saw Paige had done in a video.

Just before the buzzer could signify the end of the game you put your hand on the back of her neck pulling her close, and whispered,

"Irrelevent." 

[abbyromanoff]

WANDA MAXIMOFF MASTERLIST:

WHO I WILL WRITE FOR: Elizabeth Olsen, Wanda Maximoff (MCU), Jane Banner (Wind River), Therese (In Secret), Elle Brody (Godzilla), Leigh Shaw (Sorry For Your Loss), Taylor Sloane (Ingrid Goes West), Gerry (Very Good Girls)

Next Door Hottie (smut, small angst)

Mommy (smut, fluff)

My Wives (smut)

Assistance (smut, angst)

Obsessed (smut)

My Girl (smut, small angst/fluff)

Daddy Knows Best (smut)

Here To Help (smut, fluff)

My Love.. (smut, fluff)

Disobedience (smut)

A Guest (smut)

Two Is Better Than One (smut)

A Deal Is A Deal (smut)

Try It (smut, small angst)

Yours Again (smut, angst)

The Phone Call (smut)

Too Late (angst)

Pierced (smut)

Anywhere Anytime (smut)

Mommy’s Day (smut, fluff)

Keep Going (small smut, angst, comfort)

The Lucky Winner (smut)

The Keeper Of Her Cold, Wretched heart (angst, smut)

Closer (smut, fluff)

Sweater Weather (smut, fluff)

Mother Natures Tears And Fears (angst, fluff, comfort)

Lost In The Pleasure (smut, fluff)

Can’t Help Falling In Love (fluff)

Taste Of Desire (smut)

Cruel Girl (smut, dark)

Follow My Lead (smut)

Eyes Don’t Lie (smut)

You’ll Always Be Mine (angst, dark!!)

Hate Me? Or Love Me? (angst, smut, fluff) (Jane Banner)

Bunny (smut)

Visions (angst, fluff)

Older (smut)

You Deserve Better Than That (angst, fluff)

Attention-Seeker (angst, fluff)

Pick Or Choose (angst, fluff) (Lizzie)

Drunk In Love (fluff) (Lizzie)

…Hate Me (angst, fluff)

Someone New (But I Still Love You)

You Are Loved… (fluff, angst) (Elizabeth Olsen)

Spider-Woman!Wanda (fluff, smut)

[politicaldilfs]

George McGovern

What a hottie! I did research on this photo and apparently the photographer actually convinced him to change back into his speedo!

"We met Senator McGovern as he came up from the beach dripping wet, wearing his little Speedo bathing suit. He looked great. After introducing himself he went inside to shower, shave and put on some proper clothes. We did the pictures for the magazine, and it went well, but I couldn't get the original image of him out of my mind, so at the encouragement of my assistant I got up the nerve to ask him to pose in his Speedo."

Thanks again to the wonderful @daddies-i-love for submitting this!

[hobicakess]

PLAYING DANGEROUS — (teaser)

summary: It's been almost three years since Jack in the box was caught, and no one could make him talk. No one knew his story, and what drove him to become the monster he was today. That is until you're assigned your first story. What makes you so lucky?

rating: 18+ (I'm not your mother you're in control of what you consume)

pairings: Journalist!Reader x Criminal!JungHoseok x CEO!Kim Namjoon x Detective!MinYoongi.

warnings: smut murder, blood and gore, Jack In The Box Hobi, corruption, workplace abuse, yandere characters, possessive/obsessive behavior, dubcon, short hair namjoon (yes that's a warning), black/plus sized coded reader, violence from every single aspect, police brutality, mircoagression towards woc, lawyer kim seokjin, maknae helping cause chaos, manipulation, drugs and addiction, unhinged serial killer hobi (joker vibes tbh) , yoongi hates his job, namjoon loves his job (he gets to piss you off everyday)

authors note: howdy hotties! this fic was heavily inspired by this post, i don't think it'll be 30 chapters but something about it just spoke to me and itched my writer brain. even though the mc is black coded anyone can read ofc!! I can't wait to write for this series. if you'd like a tag pls comment below. Reblogs are appreciated and check out my other works (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)

part one

There was a manic laughter that echoed through the new station. The giggles caused shivers and goosebumps to pass through everybody in the building simply because that laughter was familiar. The sounds were admitting from the little black box that sat on your desk. In horror you and your peers that happened to be close by watch the little black clown that popped from graffiti painted the box swing animatedly back and forth. Everyone in Korea knew this clown and what it meant.

“Mr.Kim is not seeing anyone right-” you push the secretary out your way causing her to stumble on her kitten heels and she watches you stomp your way into her bosses and yours office. The door opens wide slamming against the wall causing the booksvon the shelves to tremble, some even tumbling to the floor.

There he sat Kim Namjoon. He stared at you with his eyebrow raised. Some of the buttons of his black dress shirt were unbuttoned, the glass at his side was filled with brown liquid and even more books and papers laid out messily on his desk. .

With as much force as you could you throw the giggling box at him. The impact smacking him hard on the chest but with his build you were sure that it didn't do a thing. He held it in his hands flipping it over clicking an unknown button, shutting the gut wrenching sound shut off.

“ You told me if I took this story I'd be safe,*

Namjoon sighs as if you were speaking nonsense and not about life or death. “Let's be clear here you agreed to take this story when I only simply suggested it. Besides what makes you think Jack sent this?” He was right.

Maybe your coworkers thought I'd be funny to freak you out a little more since taking on the Clown killer case, still it was a sick joke that you didn't really find funny.

“Jack is locked in a maximum security prison surrounded by guards, and guns. He's not getting out anytime soon.”

The door swung open again and there stood his assistant. “Mr.Kim turned the news on!”

Grabbing the remote he clicks on the TV that was mounted on the wall of his office. The screen lights up showing a familiar smoking building. Your heart began to speed up in rhythm as you stare at the headline

Serial killer Jack In The Box escapes from Hangsang Maximum security prison

The screen flicks again to the dark red writings on the wall that used to be his cell.

‘See you soOn honey bunches 🃏’

And that was the last thing you saw before you tumble to the ground.

©hobicakesss , please don't repost or steal my work. don't be a loser

[haikyu-mp4]

hi omg i love your works sm !! each one is so cute and i love your dialogue for the characters 🫶 i've read most of them but i'll be going back to reread and reblog them bcos u deserve the love 🤍

i wanted 2 ask if ur requests were open ? it's okay if they aren't ofc !! but i had this idea earlier about dentist / orthodontist iwaizumi or oikawa ! and i've been looking thru the hq writers that i've reblogged from n u came up ! the idea is pretty broad but i was thinking more of a build up from patient-dentist (?) to lovers, smth like that ! idk if ure up for it then do ur magic but otherwise i hope u have a great day and i'm looking forward to reading more from u 💞💞💞

Unusual affection

thank you so much for your love!! I never wrote much AU before so this was such a fun idea and I hope I did it justice<3

word count; 1353 – gn!reader, dentist Oikawa AU, patient-dentist to lovers, suggestive

You're not so fond of going to the dentist. Luckily, your teeth didn’t give you many problems growing up, but your parents were urging you to get a check-up appointment after you moved away to a new city. Better to establish a dentist before the issues come up, they would say.

So you did, you made an appointment with dentist Oikawa Tooru and made your way to his office a few weeks later. His waiting list wasn’t exactly short. Not that you had to wonder why for long because…

that is one gorgeous man!

“You need to floss more regularly,” he added as if it just came naturally for him, which it probably did. You lay on the seat as he looked over all the basic stuff, rinsing and picking at your teeth. Unfortunately, you couldn’t see yourself attracting him very much with your mouth wide open and lips scrubbed dry already, so you just accepted your fate.

“I’m not really a dancer but I’ll try,” Oikawa stopped what he was doing and the swivel chair he sat on slowly turned towards you. That’s like something Makki would say, he thought. And that’s not a compliment.

“How old are you, 10?” he asked but quickly cleared his throat when the secretary seemed to eye him from her desk. She always said he shouldn’t have an attitude with customers.

“Some would say I’m a 10 out of 10!” you responded, joyfully watching as his patience wore thin. Oh, how fun to find cracks in that perfect exterior.

He sighed, shook his head, and turned back to the monitor. You started looking at the ceiling, counting the dots and lines in the ugly pattern until you lost count and started over. Is that a headache creeping up on you?

Finally, Oikawa rolled back over. You blinked a couple of times to shake off the view of the ceiling and actually focus on him. “Open.” Wouldn’t mind hearing him command you like that in another setting, you thought, suddenly avoiding eye contact again but still doing as he said. Dentists are not supposed to be this attractive. “Your wisdom teeth on this side, do they hurt?” he asked, pointing to the cheek he was referring to.

You thought about it, humming in thought. “Yes, especially after eating. Lots of food gets stuck in there too.”

“We can set up another appointment to get them removed,” he informed you. “It should be mostly covered by insurance if I say it’s necessary.”

You nodded, licking your lips as they felt so dry from his gloved hands running over them. “Will…” he was about to stand up but stopped for a moment to listen to you. “…you be doing that?”

A small humorous sound left his lips, and it sounded so melodic you were in a trance. “That could be arranged.”

Two weeks later, you’re back at the reception of your dentist's office, asking for Oikawa. You agreed to do the procedure with a local sedative, as you didn’t have that many close friends in this city yet that could pick you up, so two assistants were currently making sure you wouldn’t feel anything around your mouth for the next hours. Unfortunately, this called for you to stay quiet, and you were honestly just excited to see Dr. Hottie again.

Your prayers were answered, and after they left you to soak in the numb feeling in your mouth for about ten minutes, Oikawa walked through the door. “Hey there, little dancer.” he greeted you.

“Hi!” you cooed, but it sounded odd when you couldn’t feel your lips. You frowned, trying to look down at your lips for a moment before giving up. Oikawa clicked his tongue from where he watched you, shaking his head before putting gloves on. Everything he did seemed so elegant, but you had a sense there was a dorky side to him.

“It might hurt a bit, but just tap me if you need me to adjust, okay?” he informed you, looking into your eyes for an answer.

You nodded, sucking in a quick breath. His eyes were pretty. Swirly, like chocolate ice cream. “Yes, I got it.” You bit your top lip, sheepishly continuing. “My safeword is toothbrush.”

Oikawa seemed to chuckle under his breath, he hesitated to humour you but still gave in. “Good to know. I was half expecting a stupid joke about tap dancing.” he hummed before picking up the first tool he needed and swiftly getting to it. It wasn’t very fortunate, to have him stare at your face as your cheeks flushed red, but it was worth witnessing the self-satisfied smirk on his face.

The procedure didn’t take too long. He struggled with the lower tooth, so an assistant came in to help him and the two conversed like you weren’t even there. When it was finally done, Oikawa pressed a button so you were adjusted into a seated position. You let your lips run frantically over your chapped lips, reaching for the small cup of water he provided you. And had you not been busy with the aftermath of the procedure, you would have noticed the way he watched you for a moment too long before getting up and throwing away his gloves.

Oikawa knew it was inappropriate. His breath shouldn’t have stuttered when he saw you in the waiting room for the check-up, he shouldn’t have sent you a small wave before calling your name to let you know he was ready for you, and he shouldn’t have put his hand on your back while leading you to his station. He just found you entertaining, that’s what he told himself, but he definitely looked off his game when you finally sat down for him to check the stitches from the procedure.

“Everything alright there, doc?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed. Oikawa waved his hand as if it was nothing, laughing under his breath.

“No worries, I was just-” he pursed his lips before pointing at you with the little tool in his hand. “Do you like pasta?”

Your jaw loosened in disbelief. “Pasta? I guess I do, is that bad for my teeth or something?” you asked a bit awkwardly.

“There’s this new Italian restaurant down the street. You should go there,” he said. “With me, I mean.”

Oikawa’s penthouse apartment was pretty nice, so you two basically spent most of your time there after a couple of dates led to stumbling through your front door with your lips locked together. He had complained about the small bed and creaking floor of your apartment, which led him to take you home to his place the morning after.

Now you were sitting on the marble countertop in the bathroom with Oikawa standing between your legs, and it was similar to something you had dreamed up before when imagining life with a boyfriend. The difference was, you weren’t kissing or anything like that. No, your mouth was wide open as your handsome boyfriend checked your teeth before bed after you brushed them. “This is a bit unusual, don’t you think?” you managed to say, making him pout as you accidentally left a small bite on his pointer finger.

“You’re a bit unusual, but here we are,” he mumbled, but still hummed in appreciation at what he observed. “I knew the electric toothbrush would help.”

Finally, he leaned an arm on each side of you on the counter so you could have a kiss, which you’d say was a much better reward for being good at the dentist than the ones you would get when you were younger. “You truly are a genius, Tooru.” you cooed sarcastically. He kissed you again and hummed, savouring the aftertaste of your toothpaste. The expensive kind.

“Maybe I’m such a good dentist that my kisses clean your teeth,” he said, and it shouldn’t work. It shouldn’t be charming. It was cheesy, made no sense and created some disturbing mental images. But you savoured it nonetheless, accepting every kiss he gave you and returning it with the same sweetness.

Luckily, this dental nerd is all yours.

masterlist

[zepskies]

Miss Professor

Pairing: Jason Teague x F. Reader

(Love triangle: Jason T. x Lana Lang)

Summary: Jason has to make a decision. You, or Lana Lang.

AN: Here’s the sequel to “Assistant Hottie.” Hope you enjoy!

Song Inspo: “Look at You” by Screaming Trees

Word Count: 5,200 Tags/Warnings: Angst, love triangle, hurt/comfort, fluff and a tinge of spice.~

Jason finds you in the bowels of the university library.

Out of four giant floors of books and computer labs at Central Kansas A&M (CKM), they just had to put the Writing Center in the non-proverbial basement. There you have to wear at least two layers at all times, despite the late-spring swelter outside.

Like now, when he enters the Writing Center lobby and finds you at your desk, tapping your red pen on your lip as you work on revising an essay. Jason smiles at the sight of your fuzzy red and green sweater over your jeans and ankle boots.

“You know, Christmas came and went, like, five months ago,” he teases.

You glance up at him as he steals a chair from your coworker’s desk. She’s conveniently been on break…for two hours now. Leaving you with a mildly enormous stack of essays to edit and leave feedback on.

“Yeah well, I’m running out of winterwear. It’s almost summer, for God’s sake,” you grouse. And yet, you shiver when another pass of the AC vent above your head hits your back.

Jason smiles, but he also shrugs off his jacket and drapes it around your frame. It’s lighter than what you’re wearing, but he hopes the added layer helps. You can’t help smiling up at him, though your brows end up furrowing.

“Oh, don’t do that, you’re gonna be freezing,” you protest. You try to take off the jacket, but Jason stops you by wrapping it snugly around your shoulders.

“It’s okay, I don’t plan on being here that long,” he replies.

You raise a brow. “Oh really?”

Jason grins. “You’ve got my British Lit. paper, right?”

You narrow your eyes at him, with a light grumble. “Some friendship this is. You only come to see me when you want something.”

Jason mock frowns at that accusation, but he plies you with raised brows and waggling “gimme” fingers until you relent. You reach back into your files with a sigh and hand him his ten-page essay, complete with your revisions and suggestions for the final draft.

“Here you go, freeloader,” you quip.

“Many thanks, Miss Professor,” Jason rejoins.

The nickname always manages to make your face warm a bit, no matter how you try to stamp down the butterflies in your stomach. It doesn’t help when he smiles at you like that.

His glinting green eyes soon dim, however, as he takes in the sheer amount of red marking up the pages of his essay. All 10 pages.

“Damn, woman. Was it that bad?” he asks.

“You’re actually getting better,” you say with a smile. “I’m seeing signs of improvement.”

Jason continues to flip through with a frown. “Right.”

Though when he actually starts reading your revisions, the familiar slopes of your handwriting, his disappointment begins to relent. You’ve made corrections here and there, but you’ve also written a lot of encouragements in the margins, like, “Good use of the word ‘solidarity.’”

And, “This whole paragraph perfectly explains your point. Just add a transition into the next section and you’re golden.”

Not to mention his personal favorite: correcting his typo on eggzagerate, and drawing a doodle of a fried egg above it. He doesn’t think you do that for all your customers. 

It makes him smile.

Though he looks up when he hears you yawn. You try to stifle it, but he can see clearly now that you’re tired. It’s almost 9 p.m.

“How long have you been working?” he asks.

“Since I got out of my last class at 5,” you admit. Finally, you spot your coworker coming back from her break (and she’s still on the phone, chatting away to her boyfriend).

“Have you even eaten dinner?” Jason asks.

You shake your head, with a pointed glare at your coworker. “No time. I’ve been chained to this place all night.”

The girl gives you a fake smile when she returns to her desk and grabs one of the thinnest essays from the pile. After shooting her one last narrowed look, you give Jason your full attention. He’s trying to temper his smirk.

“Come on,” he says, nudging your arm. “Let me treat you to the Central Kansas delicacy of Chicken Finger Friday.”

You laugh at that; the university food court leaves much to be desired. You still have plenty of work to do, but you’re willing to push it off until tomorrow and take him up on his offer, if it means a hot meal and spending some time with your friend. It’s been a few weeks since it’s been just the two of you, hanging out.

After grabbing your backpack and clocking out for the night, you and Jason walk together across campus. The evening air is warm. It begins to defrost you as you two venture down the sidewalk. You smile to yourself and playfully bump into his side.

Jason shoots you a grin and bumps you back, though he grabs your arm when the heel of your boot catches on the edge of the sidewalk. You both fumble a bit and laugh.

You tuck a wily strand of hair behind your ear. Part of you wants to ask what he’s doing this weekend. Maybe he’d want to go to the lake with you, hang out on the dock, or go for a swim…

But of course, that’s when his phone buzzes. He fishes it out of his pocket and his brows raise. The text is from Lana, asking him if he can come to the Talon.

I really need your help with something.

Jason lets out a breath and looks up at you apologetically.

You know that look.

“Your girlfriend?” you ask, trying not to sound too disappointed.

Jason nods. “I hate to do this to you, but we’ve both been so busy, I haven’t seen her all week.”

And this is the first time this week that Lana has reached out to him first, wanting to see him… Well, she’s also asking for a favor, but she wants to see him.

“You know, one of these days I’d love to meet this mysterious girl,” you remark, lightly shoving his arm.

Jason smiles, but inside he’s clamming up. For obvious reasons, he hasn’t told you that he’s dating Lana Lang. Though it doesn’t make it easy to keep it from you, to lie to you. Over the course of the school year, you’ve become one of his closest friends here in Smallville.

You encourage him to explore his interests and keep focused in school, and you’ve often been a listening ear whenever juggling his classes and helping to coach the Smallville High football team stress him out.

And he’s done the same for you. With your time split between being a teacher's aid at Smallville High and working in the Writing Center to make ends meet between classes, you've done your share of venting, sometimes through frustrated tears. Jason's been more than willing to provide a strong shoulder to lean on.

Now, you don’t know that dating Lana is part of his stress, but he just…can’t afford to tell you.

It doesn’t matter that Lana’s 18, and he met her months before he took this coaching job. This is a small town, and he knows how people will talk if word gets out that he’s dating a high school senior. Not to mention, he’d get very fired.

“I’m sorry,” he says to you. “This seems important.”

Again, you have to hide your disappointment when you smile at him. “It’s okay. I should probably get back to work anyway—”

“Uh-uh. No,” Jason says, grabbing your arm when you start to turn in the direction of the Writing Center. "You’re done for the night. I wanna see you marching full-speed for those dry-ass chicken tenders.”

He nods toward the campus food court, making you expel a sigh.

“If I must,” you lament.

“And you’d better not keep working on your laptop,” he warns. “If you so much as crack open that Mac, I’ll know.”

He levels a finger at you as he walks away. You roll your eyes and head to the food court, with the promise of food just beyond the glass doors. 

After a moment, you chance looking back at Jason. He catches your gaze, and he points two fingers from his eyes to your face in stern warning. 

You giggle and shake your head at him, but you keep walking toward the food court. 

Jason smirks in satisfaction. He continues on to the parking lot, and to his car.

When Jason gets to the Talon, he crosses paths with Clark, who’s just walking out. 

“Hey, man,” Jason greets, with a jovial pat on the younger man’s shoulder. Though he can’t help but wonder why the guy is here at this time of night. “Little late for a coffee fix, huh?”

“Hey, Coach T,” Clark smiles. “Could say the same about you.”

Jason blinks at that. He cards a hand through his short hair and laughs it off. “Yeah, I was in the mood for a slice of your mom’s coffee cake. Any left?”

Martha Kent supplied the Talon with its baked goods, and they were most certainly worth driving across town for. It’s a pretty good excuse, if he says so himself.

Clark nods. “Yeah, should be.”

“All right. G'night,” Jason says. Clark nods and waves goodbye before he heads to his red truck in the parking lot. 

Jason shakes his head and steps into the coffee shop, where he finds Lana alone. She’s cleaning up a large takeout bag from Gino’s, the Italian restaurant across the street. He silently takes note of it, but doesn’t yet comment when he kisses his girlfriend in greeting.

“Why’d you send up the Bat Signal on this fine Friday night?” he asks, wrapping her in his arms.

Lana smiles up at him. “Well, I’m probably going to be slammed all weekend with the shop, but I’ve got this huge speech for class on Monday and was hoping you’d help me practice.”

She pulls those doe-like hazel eyes on him, and Jason’s almost captured by them. This time, he lets out a small sigh.

“You know I’m always down to help you out. Always. But you know, we haven’t just hung out in a while now,” he points out.

Lana concedes to that with an incline of her head, but she still eases out of his arms to finish cleaning up.

“Yeah, I’ve just been really busy,” she says.

“I have too,” Jason replies. “But even with my crazy schedule, going back and forth from campus, don't I still make time for you?”

Case in point, he was willing to come out to her on the drop of a hat, late at night, and on the crunch week before his final exams. But he would be hard-pressed to remember a time when Lana went out of her way to see him.

Lana pauses, casting him a frown. "I'm trying my best, Jason. You know I'm graduating in a few weeks. Everything's ramped up to 11 this year."

Yeah, I know the feeling, Jason thinks, but after a moment, he caves with a nod, even though his gaze lingers on the Gino's bag.

“Have you eaten?” he tests. “Let me get us some takeout.”

He almost said, Let me take you out, somewhere nice. But he hadn’t been able to do that since before he got to Smallville. He’s beginning to wonder if he ever will again.

“Oh,” Lana says. Her eyes avert from his as she wipes down a table. “I already ate.”

Jason draws closer to her and dips his chin in order to catch her gaze. Eventually, she pauses and glances up at him.

“With Clark?” he asks.

Lana tightens up, just as he predicted. “Why would you say that?”

“I saw him when I came in,” Jason replies. He tilts his head at Lana, who never used to be a good liar. But ever since they had to start hiding their relationship, he’s noticed how good she also hides her thoughts and feelings around other people…maybe even to herself.

“Yeah,” she breathes. “He was here. But we were studying for finals, and we got hungry. That’s it.”

Jason shakes his head, but she grabs his hand with both of hers. He looks down at her tan, slender hands, and can’t help but be drawn back to her beautiful face.

“It’s not a big deal,” she says, as if that can dismiss the churning in his gut.

“Listen,” he says, rubbing at his face. “I know I’ve asked you this before, and I’m sorry but…do you still have feelings for him?”

“No,” she refutes, “I’m with you, Jason. How many times do I have to prove that this is what I want?”

She seems so annoyed and vehement that Jason has to believe her. He wants to, so badly.

Maybe too much.

The last straw comes just two weeks before the end of spring semester—with the coming of senior prom. Jason knows he can’t ask Lana, but she assured him that she wasn’t going. 

He has a late class that night, but afterwards, he promised to pick her up and get dinner together in Metropolis. A nice date, a long-ass way out of town, so they’re unlikely to be recognized.

On the Friday evening, just hours before a high school dance, you and Jason sit together in the one class you have together: Introduction to Mass Media. 

It only meets once a week, for three hours. Technically it’s an elective for both of you, but you’d told Jason to pick any class outside of his major that he was interested in. Anything to broaden his horizons, and you promised to join him. For some reason, he chose this one. 

He thought it would be easy. Just a study of pop. culture stuff, with a mix of social media, maybe a dash of sports, if he was lucky. He’d actually been surprised with how much he was enjoying the segments on videography and broadcast journalism. 

Right now, however, he's distracted. You can certainly tell, the way he keeps checking his phone.

“What’s wrong?” you lean over and ask in a whisper. He knows how anal Professor Jones is about cell phones in class. The man had a “contraband bucket” to collect them in, if he caught a student using one.

“Just letting my girlfriend know I’m gonna be a bit late,” Jason grumbles, though he’s looking at the screen. “Jones is droning on past the eternity mark, as usual.”

A man clears his throat above you and Jason. You both look up and meet the flat gaze of Professor Jones. He shakes the bucket in his hand with an arched brow. Already there's about three contraband phones inside.

Jason gives a wan smile. “Come on, Professor. We were supposed to be outta here 20 minutes ago anyway.”

The lines in Professor Jones’s face betrays one simple truth: he doesn’t give a shit.

“Bucket, Mr. Teague,” he says.

Jason’s lips press in irritation, but he’s forced to drop his phone into the waiting bucket. He doesn’t see two mixed text messages from his girlfriend.

You lay a comforting hand on Jason’s arm. “I’m sure she’ll understand.”

By the time Jason gets to the Talon, the lights are dark and Lana’s not home. Suspicion creeps in, making him feel a little crazy. 

He decides to get back into his car and drive down to Smallville High. There the gym is decked out to the nines in some kind of underwater theme. It reminds him of his own senior prom a couple of years ago, complete with the punch bowl and cheesy snacks. 

But soon enough, the nostalgia comes to a screeching halt.

A familiar ballad croons from the band on the stage.

"And how can I stand here with you, and not be moved by you? ...Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?"

He sees Lana on the dance floor, wearing one of the most beautiful dresses he’s ever seen. And she’s in the arms of one Clark Kent. 

Jason's never hated Lifehouse so much.

On Saturday morning, before the Talon even opens, Lana opens the door to Jason while still wearing her robe.

“Hey!” she says, with wide eyes, though she lets him in.

“You seem real surprised,” Jason notes.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s early for you on a Saturday,” Lana remarks with a short laugh. But she still leans up to kiss him. She only manages to get his cheek, since he doesn’t bend down to meet her like he usually would.

She frowns. “Is something wrong?”

Jason doesn’t answer at first. The words are stuck in his throat. He gestures for them to move away from the glass doors, where anyone can peek in. So they travel up to her bedroom and close the door.

It’s not the first time he’s been in her room, though not much has ever happened on her bed. He’s waited completely on her signals for that one. Though now, he’s actually kind of grateful that their relationship has never progressed that far. It makes what he’s about to do easier.

“Where were you last night?” he asks. He figures they’d better start there.

“I tried calling you,” he adds, when Lana doesn’t immediately offer a reply.

“Well, I didn’t hear from you. I figured you were busy with your classes, so…I went to prom by myself,” she says.

Jason sighs. “You didn’t seem all that lonely.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

Her confusion looks so real. A perfect face, and a damn near perfect lie.

“Look, I saw you and Clark on that dance floor,” Jason finally says. “Wasn't that just the perfect Hallmark moment?”

“Jason…” Lana finally starts to break. She doesn’t want to admit what’s broken, her gaze falling to the floor.

“No, let me say this,” he says. “Lana, I really put my all into this. I did whatever I could to be with you. To love you, to protect you. But in your heart, I think somewhere down the line you decided you don’t want that to be me.”

Lana’s eyes flood with tears, but she doesn’t deny it. 

“I think it’s time to really call it quits this time,” Jason says, “for both our sakes.”

He can’t help but reach out to her. His thumb brushes her cheek. Lana’s watery gaze meets his as her lower lip wobbles. She grabs his hand.

“I’m so sorry, Jason,” she confesses.

He won’t say it’s okay, but he accepts that with a nod, and he kisses her cheek. 

It’s a goodbye that’s meant to last.

Once he’s back in the relative safety of his car, Jason lets out a deep breath. He grabs his phone from his pocket on some unspoken urge; in that moment, he needs something. Someone.

He needs you.

You answer on the third ring, sounding sleepy on your day off.

“You’d better be on fire,” you say. Jason smiles at the sound of your grumpy voice.

“Hey,” he laughs a little, though he's surprised that it comes so easily. “You doing anything right now?”

“Besides sleeping?” you toss back. “…No. Not really. My life is boring.”

“Boring sounds nice right about now,” Jason says, more seriously than he meant to. “Wanna take a drive or something?”

You hesitate, just for a moment. Then your voice greets him again.

“Let’s go.”

When Jason arrives at your house, you come out to meet him. He gets out of his car, and already he looks wrong. He looks drained of all energy.

“What’s wrong?” you ask in concern, grabbing his arm when you’re close enough. His eyes find yours.

“We broke up,” he says.

It takes your brain a second or two to compute. (You’ve just finished your first cup of coffee, after all.) But then, you’re moving to wrap your arms around his neck in the tightest, warmest hug you can give.

He holds you back for a while, and you relish in the feeling of his hands smoothing around your back and pulling you in close. His chin tucks on your shoulder, and you rub his back.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

He hums in response. Sometimes, what is just is.

He lets you drive him out to the lake near your house, in your beat up Volvo. This lake is your favorite place in the world, you tell him, as you two sit side-by-side on the dock. Your sneaker-clad feet dangle over the edge, next to his longer legs.

“So far,” he corrects. “There’s a whole lot of world out there.”

You smile. “Yeah, you gonna show me? Got a magic carpet tucked in your dorm somewhere?”

Jason laughs, and you’re grateful to see his smile so soon.

“Yeah, along with a dusty-ass lamp,” he says.

You smile, but you tilt your head at him. “Are you okay?”

Jason’s grin slips a little. “Yeah, I think so…is that bad?”

You bite your lip. “Depends. What was her name? I don’t think you even told me.”

Jason turns to you, and he sighs deeply. It takes him a moment, but he eventually answers while looking you in the eyes.

“Lana Lang,” he says.

The name rings a bell…and as it comes to you, it blares like a foghorn. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open in shock.

“J-Jason…she’s a student,” you stammer. “Not like, us students. Like—”

“I know. We met before I got the coaching job,” Jason explains quickly, before you can blow up at him. 

He can see you’re freaking out, trying to contain your reaction with a hand over your mouth. But the more he explains, the more you withdraw into a simmering silence. He can tell, however, that you don’t know how to feel about it. 

“Do you regret it?” you ask.

It’s not the first thing he thought you would say, but it’s very you all the same.

“Well, being outmaneuvered by my own quarterback stings like a bitch, but I still think I’m better looking,” Jason jokes. Because that’s what he does when he’s uncomfortable.

Too bad that was the wrong answer.

You roll your eyes with a disgusted huff, and you pull yourself up onto your feet. You start to leave him there at the dock, but Jason hops up as well and grabs your hand.

“Hey, wait,” he implores. “Look, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It was just…easier.”

“Why, because you didn’t trust me?” you challenge. “Or because you felt guilty about what you were doing?”

The truth is, Jason doesn’t feel guilty. Not for his relationship.

“I was trying to protect her reputation,” he says. “I know how smalltown people think. She’d be the talk of the damn town. And for what? Because we’re two years apart?”

“And I’m smalltown, is that it? I’m sorry I’m not as evolved as you, Mr. Metropolis,” you snark. “Forgive me for being a lowly country bumpkin with some morals.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jason says with an angry frown, throwing up his hands in frustration.

You shake your head at him and start booking it towards your car.

Jason follows. “You know you can’t leave me out here, right?”

“Just get in the car, before I change my mind!”

He obliges you, and it’s a painful ride back to your house. He really can’t believe you’re being like this. It’s the first real argument he’s ever had with you. He knew you might get upset, but he did think you’d be a little more understanding…

“Look, we met in Paris last summer,” he admits. And a hint more vulnerable, “I just…couldn’t help but fall for her.”

“I get it, Jason,” you reply. Your voice is flat. 

“Just please don’t tell anyone,” he asks. “We’re done. She’s about to graduate.”

As mad as you are at him for lying to you, you begrudgingly see his point. You can also start to understand why he didn’t tell you. 

But, regardless of how you feel, you don’t want him to lose his job. You know it’s the only way he can afford college.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” you say, before you can reign yourself in.

Jason turns to you with a hint of a smile. “Thank you.”

It’s still awkward when you two get to your house. He turns to you, like he wants to say something that’ll most likely soften you. 

You’re not ready for that. 

So you kill the engine and get out of the car without looking at him. Jason takes the hint; he doesn’t say another word to you when he gets into his car and peels away.

The next weeks that follow are hard for Jason. As a member of the staff, he’s forced to go to Smallville High’s graduating ceremony.

He watches Clark and Lana graduate together with the rest of their friends. The two of them hug after she gets off stage, looking at one another with a moment of blushing smiles. It’s an inevitable look.

It makes Jason feel sick. He leaves as soon as he can, going back to languish in his dorm room. He lays on his bed over the covers with his hands folded over his stomach and his eyes closed.

He thinks about you. 

He can see you in his mind’s eye, with a pen balanced between your teeth and your hair falling over to brush the pages you pour over.

He sees your fuzzy green sweater. Your smile. The shade of your hair, your eyes, your laugh, your furrowed look when you’re concentrating hard on revising a sentence.

The more he sees, the more he wants to call you. To hear your voice, even if you're just going to yell at him. 

Jason sighs. He sits up in bed and has a thought that soon takes hold of his body, and has him swinging his legs over the edge of his bed and pulling his backpack closer.

He pulls out a folder for one of his classes and finds an essay you revised. His eyes scan over the encouragements you’ve left in the margins, along with the stray doodles. They still make him smile.

And it reminds him of the first note you ever gave him, which he keeps tucked in a small drawer in his desk. He tosses the folder onto his bed and goes to that drawer, where he finds your hastily written haiku.

Assistant Hottie

You flatter me, see through me

Smarter than he thinks.

You don’t know that those words have kept his head above water in times where he’s wanted to quit school.

Or even worse, in those times when he’s wanted to go to his father, tail between his legs, to ask for money and a job doing anything easy.

So now, Jason realizes that he needs to make another decision.

He gets out of bed, and he goes to see you.

Jason travels down to the basement of the CKM library, to the Writing Center, where you’re sitting at your desk as always on a Thursday night. You have a pile of essays stacked high next to you, and your forehead is wrinkled while you read a problematic passage.

The smell of coffee makes you look up first, before you realize who brought it. Your eyes widen at seeing Jason, along with his small smile and peace offering.

“Hey,” he says.

His voice washes over you, his eyes that always manage to disarm you, even now.

Despite your better judgment, you take the coffee from him and revel at its warmth. It has to be 60 degrees in this damn room (you’re one step shy of bringing your winter gloves next time).

You sip at the coffee and hum in delight at the taste of caramel and cinnamon—a combination that only your family, and Jason, would know you loved.

Your gaze flits up to his, more begrudging as you sigh.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Teague?” you ask.

Jason grins and takes your coworker’s empty chair to sit across from you.

“I’ve got a little haiku for you,” he says, handing you a folded piece of paper. You eye him in confusion, but you set down the coffee on your desk and take his second offering. You unfold it and read something that genuinely takes you by surprise.

Hey, Miss Professor

I’ve got a question for you…

Want to get dinner?

You can’t help but laugh. It’s most definitely not a haiku, but you also know that it’s his best shot. His smile is sheepish, making yours deepen. 

“So, what’s your answer?” he asks. 

You glance down at the page, then back at him. You bite your lip, and your heart clenches. Is this it? you wonder. Is he asking you out, for real? You can’t quite tell what he’s thinking. 

“What kind of dinner?” you ask.

Jason’s grin fades. “What do you mean?”

“Is this our normal kind, where we roll out like we’re Thelma and Louise?” you ask, making him snort. “Or is this the kind where I need to change out of my dirty sneakers and brush my hair?”

He shrugs; his amused grin is back. “I mean, however I get you is all right by me.”

You nearly utter another sigh, but Jason surprises you yet again—by grabbing your hand. 

“But, uh…I’d like this to be the kind of dinner where we try something new,” he says, licking his dry lips. He looks a bit uncertain, you think, hiding the fear of rejection. “Maybe you’ll let me do my Cary Grant impression and get you some flowers. Box of chocolates.”

The corner of your mouth twitches. “Chocolates?”

“Whatever it takes,” he says. His tone is joking, but he seems serious. You know him well enough by now to spot the difference.

“Whatever it takes, huh?” you ask.

Jason’s hand tightens on yours, but his eyes never leave you. He really is serious, and it makes your heart stutter and trill with warmth. It feels a lot like hope.

He leans in, his head bowing towards yours…but you lay a hand against his chest.

It stops him, until your fingers curl into his shirt.

Your gaze slowly meets his.

When he reaches for your cheek, this time you let him pull you in. 

His kiss is sudden, but it’s still a gentle test. You take in a deep breath through your nose as your eyes fall closed. You press your lips against his, answering him. His fingers slide into your hair and drag down the back of your neck. It makes you shudder and tug him even closer by his shirt. 

Jason’s solution is gathering you into his lap, where you take his face with both hands and kiss him with unfettered passion. The locked doors of your heart are swinging open, and it’s a sweet relief to be honest with each swipe of your tongue against his. 

He’s gripping your hip, his fingers pressing into your thigh, while the other hand supports your lower back and presses you flush against him. As the kiss slows, so does your hand in his hair, more soothing now than gripping. 

When your lips eventually draw apart from his, it’s with panting breaths. You stare into his eyes, as yours brim with relieved tears. You touch his cheek.

“I better not be a rebound,” you warn him. “I can’t take that, Jase.”

Jason shakes his head, holding you a fraction tighter. “No, believe me. That's the last thing you are."

You bite your lip, and he encourages you to release it with his thumb brushing across your lower lip. You've been on his mind longer than he can readily admit. Since the first day he met you.

"I know I haven't made it easy, but will you trust me on this?” he asks. "I really wanna do this right with you."

It takes you a moment to decide, but you do. You trust him.

So you nod and brush your fingers along the apple of his cheek. 

“Okay,” you concede. "Let's do this."

Jason grins. “Oh, thank God.”

You giggle softly and hide your face in his neck. His chest shakes with a chuckle as he holds you back. It feels very right to hold you, he thinks.

Just as it's a relief for you to finally be in his arms.

“Where d’you wanna go for dinner?” he asks.

You laugh, a bit giddy as you cling to him and thread your fingers in his golden hair.  

“I don’t give a damn.”

AN: Haha, I hope you liked this! ❤️ These one-shots are kind of AU, in that I don't get into the Stones of Power arc of S4 just for simplicity's sake.

I do have one more one-shot idea rolling around in my head for these two...the reader meeting Jason's infamous mother lol (Genevieve Teague, played by the fabulous Jane Seymour)!

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