#I watched someone biting on what I think is a Crumbl and they spit it out. And the pieces sounded like concrete as it hit the table ����😆😆

[screwpinecaprice]

I was trying to eat noodles neatly and for some reason I got sad midway. So I drew them messy eating a biscuit and a strawberry to combat sad noodle blues.

[runa-falls]

scratches and bites - 3

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader

warnings: explicit 18+, use of demeaning names, biting/marking/scratching, use of venom, a small amount of blood, unprotected sex, creampie (whoops), cumplay (whoops 2x), slight size kink (whoops 3x), bondage (0-0), feelings (bleh), needy wittle miguel :P

a/n: uhhh, this may have gotten away from me -- went from 1k to 4k real fast (or slow bc i'm a slow writer hehe)

summary: miguel o'hara is a grumpy man and you make him grumpy. you regularly go against his orders, create chaos, and invite danger. this is what happens when he's had enough.

w/c: 4.2k

series masterlist | main masterlist

----

“Clean-up crew is on the way. You,” He points sharply in your direction, “come with me.” He roughly passes by you, purposely clipping the edge of your shoulder.

You sulk slightly and follow him into the portal, mood effectively ruined. 

Everything worked perfectly in your eyes. You were able to save the family and a few people inside the building. You even had time to pick up a free hotdog.

“It’s on the house for you, Spider-Woman! Thanks for saving the day!”

“Aw, thanks, dude.” 

Of course, before you could take a bite of your well-earned lunch, O’Hara’s hulking figure was standing over you. He’s angry. 

Gwen wisely scurried off before you all got to the portal and Jess had better things to do than deal with whatever was going on between the two of you. So you’re effectively alone now. Great.

“The fuck did you think you were doing out there?” Miguel’s voice booms off the high ceilings of his office as he leads you toward his desk. He has this pretentiously slow platform that he loves to use to look down on people. You feel like a student that got called to the principal's office. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed–or worse, gotten someone else pulled into your fucking mess.” 

You roll your eyes as soon as he passes, “Oh, come on O’Hara, you were about to bail on a car full of people and left a bunch of workers in the crumbling building because nothing is more important than your dumbass box of scraps and wires!”

He turns stiffly, jaw clenching at your words, but his eyes roam to anything else in the room but you. Like always. “You know we’ve been looking for that equipment for months. If we have any chance to hold back this multiverse annihilator even a few days, we’re gonna take it.” Miguel is as curt as ever, stance stiff as he tries to pretend he’s unaffected. Like he’s convincing himself he’s doing the right thing. And what you did was wrong.

“There were four of us out there, Miguel,” His eyes briefly meet yours at the sound of his given name. Something he has rarely heard you say since you’ve been in Nueva York. “The package was barely a struggle for one of us! You’re telling me we needed four hands to locate and retrieve that shit?” You gesture over to the crate resting on his computer platform. 

He sighs like he’s tired of hearing your voice. Tired of being in the same room as you. His hand smooths over his face, “That’s not the point, Kid.” You could feel warmth blooming inside of your chest at his choice of words. It’s demeaning, and he knows it. As much as you hate him right now, you’re also loving this. You’re finally getting the chance to express all the frustration he’s inspired in you. And it’s satisfying to watch him get all wound up because you actually made the right move. He just can’t admit it.“What you did was beyond idiotic. You could’ve–”

“Well, I didn’t. And I’m not a fucking kid.” You spit out the words. His eyes immediately darken as you raise your voice. Bright cherry to rich blood.  

Miguel rolls his shoulders back from annoyance and briefly closes his eyes. Irritated. You seem to always irritate him. His jaw is tight, and right under his full top lip you can almost make out– “What did I say about interrupting me?” He’s seething, head tilted slightly as pushes away from his desk and off the platform to you. 

His deep voice is so low that you swear you can feel it surrounding you, vibrating the warm air that clings to the thin treads of your suit. “You’re so…” His fists clenched tightly and tension rolls off of him, crashing into you like a wave. “Difficult.” You try to stay brave and hold your head up, unwilling to cower under his superficial anger. “So fucking irritating.” 

This is getting nowhere.

“So that’s why you called me in, hm?” Your voice comes out more breathless than you intended, but really, it’s his fault. This whole time he’s been inching closer and closer to you, taking up all your space. “To call me petty names? Tell me all the things that are wrong with me?” You have to crane your neck to maintain eye contact with him, he’s so close. 

“No.” He drawls the word, his voice deep and muffled. Then you realize. His fangs. The stark change of the air in the room was enough to make your breath hitch. You suddenly feel trapped. 

“I brought you here,” There are only a couple of inches separating your chest from touching his and you swear you can feel his body heat radiating off of him, almost simmering under his suit. “To teach you a lesson.” He leans down slightly, closing in the height distance between the two of you. You haven’t been this close to him since that night. 

“W-what kind of lesson?”

“The kind that’ll persuade you to follow the rules.” Your knees nearly buckle as each word is lightly whispered next to your ear. He keeps his hands to himself, but it still feels like he’s wrapping himself around you. “To listen to me. Like a good girl.” Just as your body begins to mirror his and lean into his space, he backs up and strolls back to his desk. 

Your eyes instantly lower and stay locked onto his spotless steel floors as you listen to him slowly walk away. You feel your face heat in embarrassment as you become more self-aware of the way your body reacted to him. He hadn’t even touched you. 

“Come here.” Your head tilts up slightly at the sound of his voice. He’s sitting back on his desk chair, legs spread confident and inviting as he watches you watch him through hungry eyes. He can tell your mind is brimming with overlapping thoughts as you decide whether to listen to him or not. 

Some part of you worries you’re being lured into a trap. That O’Hara, one of the least genuine people you know, is playing with you. But your body doesn’t really seem to care, already moving until your ankles meet the edge of the barely floating platform. The air around you is cool and empty without his presence. Your body craves more of  Miguel’s natural heat.

“...Closer.” You shuffle over until you’re a couple of feet away, fingers twisting together with uncertainty. He’s looking at you, leering at you. Virtually devouring you with that scarlet stare of his. If he wanted, he could reach over and pull you closer, eliminating the space between you, but he decidedly doesn’t, clearly wanting you to come to him. 

“Don’t worry, honey, I don’t bite – oh wait,” He grins at his own joke, fangs proudly poking out from under his plump lips. You don’t realize how hard you're biting your lip until it starts to seriously sting. Your teeth release your aching lip and his gaze follows the action before meeting your eyes. 

“Unless you want me to.” You haven’t uttered a word in a while and you don’t really want to. You’re completely content to continue to soak in the words that slip from his tongue. “Do you?” 

Yes.

“Do I…”

“...want me to bite you.” He openly runs his soft tongue over the contours of his fangs. 

Yes.

“B-bite…?”

“Mhm. Make you all numb and pliant for me?” He finally reaches over and gently tugs you closer by your arm. You let him. “That what you want, hermosa?” Your body slots seamlessly in the space between his thighs. His face cradles perfectly into the crook of your neck. You sigh, subconsciously leaning closer as his tender lips hover sweetly over your covered throat. 

He whispers, barely audible against your skin, “Promise it’ll only hurt for a second.” 

Yes.

“Yes.” 

He doesn’t waste any time. 

A hand drifts up your arm to the flexible collar of your suit. He tugs it down lightly, revealing your bare skin to the cool air. It’s not enough for him. With a hushed tear, he uses a claw to split the fabric down to the top of your shoulder, giving him more access to your body. He pushes your hair back and nudges himself closer to you, nose nestling where your neck meets your shoulder. He breathes you in. “Sweet.” His voice barely carries with how soft he says it.  

The balmy heat of his breath sweeps along the side of your neck before his lips finally connect. His hands trail against your waist, slowly caressing you as he slowly presses kisses into your skin, trailing his lips down until he finds the spot. You tilt your head to the side as you feel the light scratch of his fangs. 

“Hold on to me, baby.” Your gloved hands grip his thick forearms. He bites down. 

It hurts in the beginning like you thought it would. Like he said it would. You try to disguise your wince, but you can’t stop the way your body flinches at the sensation. It’s intense, the sharp pain, and it spreads, traveling down from your neck to your toes. 

And then, something clicks. It vanishes. That ache gets replaced with an endless warmth that relaxes every muscle in your body. Your hands, once clenched around Miguel, begin to loosen so the only thing that’s holding you up is him. 

Everything touching your skin feels amazing. The heat of his hands. The suit that's starting to slowly fall down your shoulder. 

Your eyes glaze over with pleasure as you watch him pull away from your body to look at you. His tongue pokes out, swiping over his bottom lip to collect the mixture of residual venom and your blood. Are you bleeding? You lean closer and your hands reach out for his shoulders. 

“That good, hm?” Even his voice feels good. 

You use his solid form to keep you steady as you boldly crawl onto his lap, “Really, really, good.” He hums and you feel his chest vibrate against yours. His arms easily wrap around your form as he waits patiently for you to get comfortable on top of him.

In this moment you realize how this will change everything. And you’re not talking about the bit.-- Ok, not just the bite. 

It’s seeing him like this that flips your world. Feeling his touch. The gentle way he holds you against him and the patient way he lets your fingers trail down his strong chest until you’ve decided you’ve had enough. He makes you feel special. Wanted. Everything that you’ve craved since you followed him here. The same thing he offered you before taking it away. 

So you’re scared. You don’t know if you could ever let this go because you know you’ll always yearn for moments like this. If he pushes you away again…

The fog in your head dissipates and it’s like you’re waking up. You catch his eye and his brows furrow. He senses something’s wrong. His hand cradles yours and gives you a comforting squeeze. 

“What is it?” 

“Don’t leave me.” 

“What do you mean?” His eyes are sincere as they try to read your crestfallen expression. 

“Just…” You exhale slowly and rest your forehead against his shoulder. “Don’t do this then walk away, Miguel.” Your words hang in the air for a few seconds as he takes them in. 

Great, you ruined the mood. “Look, Miguel, I–” He softly lifts your head and leans in to press his forehead against yours. You’re so close he could probably feel your eyelashes brush against his cheeks. 

“Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.” He draws you in and kisses you deeply, taking your breath away with his tender touch. It feels like a promise like he’s signing the dotted line of your heart. “I’m yours.” It’s whispered against your lips when he pulls back and you can help the grin that sprouts from his words. He matches it. 

“Yeah?”

You’re pulled back in, “Mhm…” Muffled, but absolute. 

Kissing Miguel is exactly how you imagined it to be: addictive. 

Maybe it’s the residual venom left on his tongue, but the way he moves against you, mouth and body, makes your legs tremble. Makes you ache for him.

You melt against him, drunk on his taste and leaning in for more. His hands go from cradling your face and delicately tracing your neck to massaging your thighs, hands practically draping over you with the size difference. 

He delicately licks into your mouth, greedily taking in every aspect of your taste. Your lips vibrate excitingly when his tongue brushes against them, they’re super sensitive from how long he’s been working them. 

You feel him under you, nestled achingly against your ass. He throbs eagerly every time you let out a breathless sigh or a muffled moan. You’re no better. You swear you already have a wet spot ruining your suit from all the times he ‘accidentally’ grips his claws into the curve of your hips.  

You whimper quietly when you feel the sharp point of his fang drags ever so slightly across your bottom lip. As he moves downwards, it delicately tugs at it, briefly revealing the bottom row of your teeth before releasing it. He moves his mouth along the line of your jaw and then focuses on the sensitive bite he left to bloom red and purple on your neck. 

With his hands back on your waist, he starts to lick up the small droplets of blood that were staining trails down your shoulder. It stings wonderfully as he laves against it, cleaning the red off your smooth skin. You can’t help but to cry out as he begins to suck at your sensitive skin, it’s a bit more intense than you were expecting, but it feels really good. He blows cool air on it when he releases your skin, soothing the new mark he’s left on you. 

His mouth is back on yours, letting you taste your own blood as your tongues intermingle with fervor. Fingers tug at the front of your suit to pull you impossibly closer as your teeth nash against one another. You hear a faint rip between you as his grip tightens and pulls at the stretchy material. Your skin quickly reacts as the cool air wraps around you, arms prickling with goosebumps and nipples tightening into hard buds. 

You both pull back and look down at the damage. Your suit is split down the middle of your torso, revealing everything from your heaving chest to your belly button. Your body ignites with heat when you notice how his crimson eyes drink you in. A soft growl vibrates from his chest. 

“Miguel, this is the only suit I have.” 

“My bad.” Zero remorse in his voice. Asshole. 

He abruptly grabs both of your wrists and pulls them behind you with one hand causing you to arch your back, inevitably giving him a better look. “God, you’re sexy.” His other hand slowly molds over your waist and smooths it upwards to grasp your tit with a playful squeeze. Using his gloved thumb, he teases the soft peak of your nipple, flicking it once just to hear you gasp. He does it once more, grinning (with his fangs cutely poking out) when you react the same way.

“Miguel…” You whine out, pouting at his teasing. 

He idly drags his claws down your stomach, enjoying the way your breath hitches when he gets closer to your center. “You always go without a bra under there?”

“It’s a tight suit.”

“It is…” His hand trails down to your inner thigh and you shift slightly, leaning back so he can touch exactly where you need him. He gets the hint and gently cups you over your damp suit. “And here…?”

Your bottom lip tucks into your mouth as you look up at him, nodding softly. “And there.” 

You’re suddenly being carried by Miguel, weight supported by his strong arms. You have to quickly wrap your arms around his neck to keep yourself from falling backward. He hurriedly takes you over to his desk and sets you down at the edge of the waist-level table. 

He is so tall that you struggle a bit to keep your hold around his neck so you settle your hands back on his chest. You push at his firm figure and sit back to fully take him in. “And how about you?”

“Me?”

“Do you wear anything under that unbearably tight suit?”

“I do, actually. Wanna see?” 

You’ve heard the rumors of Miguel’s nano-suit, but you’re still perplexed when he grabs his interdimensional watch from the desk next to you. He clicks a couple of holographic buttons and you watch in awe as his suit seems to dissolve off of him, one particle at a time, like it never existed in the first place. The fading red and navy reveal his perfectly muscled body, somehow making him look even bigger in front of you. 

He did, in fact, have some briefs on under the suit, but it’s what’s under it that catches your attention. Your thighs clench together as you watch him set down the timepiece, his arm unintentionally flexing under the dim lighting.

Miguel returns to you and you spread your legs slightly so he can stand directly in front of you. You slowly reach out to him, palm to the skin, and soak in the natural heat of his body. You can feel his heart beating under his chest, slow and steady. 

“You’re hot.” 

He has that teasing grin back on his face, “Am I?”

“I mean…warm.”

He shrugs, “Us Spiders run hot.”

Miguel moves your hand off of him and sets it on the table before pushing his body closer to you, making your legs push out further. He leans in so close that you have to slowly tilt your body back with him. “Bet you’re warmer.”

 He shifts your body further onto the table and then starts working on the rest of your suit. It tears easily from your body, scraps falling to the floor until you’re fully bare in front of him. You pant as you watch him and feel your center pulse in reaction to his rough handling. “There we are.” His voice is soothing, but his eyes flash dangerously. You arch your back slightly as his claws scrape lightly over your stomach to your most sensitive area. You don’t even have to look down to know you’re dripping, you can feel it all over your inner thighs. 

His fingers glide over your glistening lips, spreading your eager wetness leisurely. His claws are gone. You watch his face as he stares at his actions, his hungry eyes dark with lust. You both groan when one finger dips in, pushing gently against your entrance. You’re practically gushing around him as he starts to move, wet sounds accompanying each thrust. A string of slick follow his hand as he pulls away and it drips carelessly on your flushed thigh. With hooded eyes, Miguel holds up his dripping finger, “Open.” You suck on him enthusiastically, holding his gaze as it’s slipped into your mouth. “Fuck.”

His briefs are shoved down his muscular thighs before you can look down and you’re shoved roughly onto your back. You feel his claws dig into your thighs as he spreads you out for him, pushing them back until they're next to your waist. His warm hardness slides against your weeping pussy, covering him in slick as he prepares himself. 

Your breath hitches as his cock pushes inside of you, nearly stretching you to your limit. You try your best to take deep breaths, but it’s hard when you can literally feel each inch sinking into your body. A throaty groan rumbles in his chest as he feels you involuntarily clench around him, invariably sucking him in further. His eyes are almost glowing with how bright red they are. “Relax for me baby, I’m almost in.” 

Your thighs tremble under his hands as he continues to plunge in deeper, unable to keep up with all the stimulants surrounding you. The feeling of him dragging against your walls is exquisite and you can barely hold yourself back from cumming right there. 

Then he starts moving. 

His hips drag back, pulling almost all the way out before he buries himself back inside of you. Your head tilts back with pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut, you can’t even tell what you’re holding on to. He keeps this slow pace, body nearly engulfing you as he hovers above. A moan follows each thrust as he fucks you into his desk.  

When your eyes are finally able to flutter back open, you meet his stare. You quickly attempt to hide your face with your arm, too embarrassed to hold eye contact with him while he’s using your body like this. He doesn’t like that. 

Your wrists are forced above you and then expertly webbed together to hold them there. His red webs pulse hot around your wrists. Unlike the traditional webs that tend to feel like cool lace, his are warm, like fingers wrapping tightly around your wrists, almost thrumming with soft heat in a way that makes them feel alive. 

You yelp when his hand tugs sharply at the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your gaze as he moves over you. “Look at me, baby.” You listen. He begins to aim his thrusts upwards into you, nudging against that special spot inside of you. And as hard as you try to keep looking at him, your eyes inevitably roll back as he hits it so precisely. You faintly see stars. 

You cry out as heat blooms your center and your thighs close around his hips, tightening as a spark swarms in your lower belly. “That’s it, baby,” He speeds up, feeling you start to clench around him, “let go.” 

Your vision blurs when your climax blasts through your body. Hot tears spill from the intensity of the feeling, creating hot trails of wetness over your cheeks. “Such a pretty little thing." He wipes them away lovingly. Your body jerks with pleasure and Miguel has to hold your waist down as your back starts to arch off the desk. 

He doesn’t stop. If anything, he starts fucking you harder, letting his body weight hold you in place as he chases his own high. You whine against his neck, skin sticky with sweat, as he roughly ruts into you. “Be mine, baby, and I’ll take care of you forever.” His claws dig into your web-pasted wrists as he works himself into you, post-orgasm slick smothered carelessly over the both of you. “I promise.” He whispers breathlessly next to your ear.

“Please.” The word is nearly stuck in your throat as he continues to take everything your body is willing to give him. He’s basically grinding his cock into you now, wanting you as close as possible for these last moments. You barely hear it but he whimpers against your shoulder as he starts to draw closer to his climax, desperately rutting his hips against you. 

With a choked-out groan, his movements grow sloppy and he thrusts deep inside of you a few more times. You feel the warmth of him as he spills inside of you, filling you up to the brim. He’s panting above you, body weight nearly smothering yours. You love it. 

He slowly pulls out once he’s calmed down, eyes locked onto your leaking center that’s full of a mixture of you and him. His fingers lovingly spread his cum over your pussy and you flinch as he slides against your sensitive clit. You give him a look of disapproval which he ignores as he pushes his mess back inside of you. 

“Will you let me out of these now?” You pull at the webs, still holding your arms above you.

“Hm…I think I’ll keep you there for a little bit longer.”

–

His office is like a bat cave when you’re barely dressed. There’s a slight breeze in the office (you have no clue where it’s coming from) that’s making it particularly drafty. You force Miguel to huddle over you like some oversized puffer jacket as it was his fault the only clothes you came with are lying on the floor in scraps.

“How am I supposed to leave when my suit is in tatters?”

His arms hold you tighter, “You aren’t. You’re staying with me.” 

“Miguel, people are probably looking for us by now.”

“I don’t care.”

“Miguel.”

“Alright, fine. You can borrow one of my nano-suits, but we’re going to my place.” 

“Dude, you’re like 6’3”, how am I supposed to fit into one of those?”

He tsks, “Really? You’re calling me ‘dude’ after all of this?” He grabs his watch again, scrolling through some settings. “It’s nano-tech, sweetheart, it fits what I want it to fit.” He dials the size down, letting you watch as the hologram shrinks to display your general size. “And I’m 6’7.” 

-----

taglist: @deputy-videogamer @syd-vixious @bachirasbasics @danaeaurelia @reuxxi @halparkebitch @kittekat420

[satoruxx]

HAUNTING ME TONIGHT.

✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader | 0.6k words

✧ SUMMARY: this is a coping mechanism for today's jjk leaks so...SPOILERS AHEAD, blood, mentions of death, ANGST, gojo centric, vague af, hints at canon manga events, he goes back and forth between his past and present self, overall confusion bc he doesn't understand what really happened to him, it's bittersweet ig, idk man my emotions are all over the place rn

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: looks like it's a trend for me to write a gojo drabble every time the leaks fuck me up lmao. somehow after weeks of writer's block i managed to spit this out. here's part 1 from back in june when the neck slice happened. this and part 1 don't connect all that much but it's sorta hinted and i wrote this as a continuation. this can be read alone tho. whatever i'm so fucked up rn i'm gonna go back to crying...

satoru thinks there's blood in his mouth. he can taste it, metallic and coppery as it fills his pharynx and seeps into his throat.

he tastes it even when his body is free from scars and sunlight warms his skin.

it’s comforting, he thinks, the feeling of carefree youth he hasn’t been able to experience in almost ten years. the grin that's stretching across his face makes him forget the blood.

he’s choosing to focus on them instead. focusing on the faces he hasn’t seen in so long. he’s not really sure what he’s telling them, but satoru has always been good at rambling about things like death.

for a second he feels like a teacher, preaching about dying alone, but then he remembers that he’s probably still a student. young and stupid and carefree.

but for some reason, the expression on suguru’s face makes him feel oddly nostalgic.

satoru likes this. he thinks he’d like to snapshot nanami’s expression. it's strange, but it feels like he hasn’t seen him in a long time.

but that’s ridiculous because he’s still a student. he’d seen nanami in class the morning prior.

something about that is wrong. he can’t quite put his finger on it.

he’s in the middle of annoying principal yaga when he catches sight of you.

you're making a face, one that he’s never seen before. it’s half angry and half wounded, like you’ve never been so hurt in your life. the expression unsettles him, and somehow he knows it’ll haunt his nightmares from now until the end of time.

your features crumble, and satoru notices you’re going in and out of focus, so he tries to blink you back into clarity. it doesn’t work.

briefly he wonders if you’re even real.

you glare at him, eyes shining with tears and every bit of hurt in the world.

“you promised.” you hiss, shoulders drawn high and taut as your body trembles with something he doesn’t quite understand.

promised what, he wants to ask, but he finds that he can’t open his mouth to speak to you.

the taste of blood comes back again, pooling in the back of his throat. metallic and coppery.

you bite down on your lip, hard, before turning away from him.

satoru doesn’t know how to reach out to you because his body is rooted in place. it feels like his brain isn’t connected to the rest of him, neurons firing but muscles not working in coordination.

he inwardly curses.

when he looks back, haibara is grinning at him in a way that reminds him so much of someone else. he briefly thinks haibara would suit pink hair. when he catches nanami’s tired eyes, something in his impassive expression tells satoru that he agrees.

there’s a fleeting silence, and the sound of a clock ticking quietly scratches at his brain. he looks at suguru, who’s smiling at him knowingly, skin clean of any stitches, and satoru decides he should commit the sight to memory.

there’s a restlessness in his stomach now, and he feels his torso burn.

he turns back to look at you, the taste of blood now extremely strong on his tongue as he watches your figure slowly start to fade from existence.

for a second, he smells smoke, unpleasant but oh so familiar. he remembers the sound of medical textbooks turning and the echo of an annoyed first grader’s voice. a few barks of a dog follow.

through the taste of blood, he can smell bedsheets. he can smell overly sweet coffee in the morning. he can smell the shampoo you use.

he closes his eyes, smiling ruefully to himself.

you’re right.

he did promise you after all.

[pandorxxx]

Made for each other (crazy about you part 2)

Lo’ak x Omatikayan fem reader (all aged up)

Warnings: pure smut, possessive, delusional, violent lo’ak (and reader), attempted murder, mentions of suicide, mentions of killing in general, spanking, choking, hair pulling, smacking, spit kink, biting (a lot of blood at the end), daddy kink, praise kink, cursing, oral, p in v, multiple orgasms, creampie. (Lmk If I miss something)

Addition warning: This fic follows the pattens of toxic relationships, so if this triggers you in any way, please do not continue.

Last warning⚠️: Lo’ak is extremely toxic in this. Please read at your own risk

🔞mdni🔞

It had been a year since you and lo’ak made it official, a year since he put you in your place. And the relationship was….toxic to say the least. You two had broken up and gotten back together so many times that you lost count. You were jealous and he was possessive, creating a recipe for disaster. You almost wished that you never even pursued him, maybe your life would be better without him in it. You wouldn’t dare tell him that though.

He told you that he would kill you if you tried to leave him for good, and apart of you believed him. You were becoming scared of lo’ak, scared that he might do something unspeakable, all for you. And it showed in his daily actions; the way he would linger around, watching your every move. Threatening any man that got to close to you, similar to the situation that transpired today:

“Bring your little ass here, right now! I’m sick of chasing you!” He growled, whipping through the trees as he followed your small frame.“NO! Why did you have to punch him?” You yelled, stomping away from him.

“He was too fucking close, y/n. Too close to what’s mine.” He growled, smacking leaves out of his path as he kept his pace behind you. “He’s didn’t even touch me!” You screamed, storming through the trees to get away from him.

“I’m a man! I know what the fuck he was thinking. Maybe I should just lock you up, huh? So no one can see you!” He chuckled angrily, speeding up his pace behind you.

“Ughhh! I hate you!!!” You screamed, hissing at him loudly, tail swaying in anger.

“I hate you too!” He roared, running towards you. He caught up quickly, yanking your arm harshly, turning you towards him.

“Let me go, idiot!” You shouted, trying to yank yourself out of his grasp, to no avail. He gripped your other arm, lifting you off the ground.

“No! You’re mine! Did you fucking forget?” He growled, shaking your small frame with every word. You hissed, struggling to get him off of you.

“Put me down, lo’ak! You’re hurting me!” You whined, making his gaze soften slightly, before he dropped you down to the ground.

You fell onto your back, instantly trying to crawl away from him. He grabbed your tail, pulling you back, before flipping you around. He straddled your lap, placing both of his large hands around your neck.

“You think you can leave me, y/n? HUH? I’ll never let you go!” He roared, squeezing your neck tightly, to the point where you couldn’t breathe all that well. “L-Lo’ak, y-you’re choking me!” You strained, tapping his forearm repeatedly. However, he didn’t let up.

“I’d rather see you dead than with someone else! I can’t see you with anyone else, y/n!” He yelled, voice becoming shaky as his emotions got the best of him. Tears flooding his eyes, loosening his grip on your neck slightly. Just enough for you to gasp loudly, regaining your breath.

He slowly crumbled, falling onto you as he weeped like a child. You cried too, looking into the sky. The situation that you put yourself in made you emotional. Deep down, you knew this was your karma for stalking him all these years. You blamed yourself for this. You just wanted out, but he couldn’t seem to let you go.

“P-please, baby! Please don’t fucking leave me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He cried in your chest, punching the ground in frustration, causing you to flinch. He shot up, looking into your terrified eyes.

“B-Baby, I don’t mean to scare you. You know that right? I’ll do anything to make you love me again! ANYTHING! J-just give me another chance. I’ll be good for you this time. I-I won’t yell, or hit anybody anymore. I-I promise, please!” He rambled, crying as he caressed your tear stained cheek.

Lo’ak was draining you from the inside out. You regretted everything about your relationship with him. You truly wished that you could go back to the beginning, when he wanted nothing to do with you. But because you couldn’t turn back time, there was just something in you that didn’t want to let him go. Maybe it was his “bad boy” tendencies, or his protectiveness, his sex….you couldn’t quite pinpoint it. As many times as you tried to be strong, tried to end it, he always found a way to suck you back in, and today was no different.

“Lo’ak, please. I-i can’t do this anymore. Just let me go, please let me go…” you whimpered, shaking your head from side to side in exhaustion.

“You know I can’t do that, don’t make me do that, please! I promise I’ll change for you. I’ll calm down!” He whined, sliding his hand down to your loincloth. You shook your head again, so tired of the same old song he sang. He’d treat you like shit, get aggressive with you, apologize, and then fuck you until you felt better. And you let him. You’d let him fuck you until you forgot about the argument because deep down, you enjoyed this little game you played with him. You were just as sick as he was, just as delusional. You two were made for eachother.

“Let me make it better, ok? Daddy’s gonna make it better.” He spoke lowly, pecking your lips, tasting your salty tears as he slid his hand in your loincloth, rubbing circles into your clit. You moaned into his mouth, falling into his trance again. He slid a finger inside of you, pumping in and out at a slow pace, just how you liked it. He knew you like the back of his hand, and he knew how to please you.

“Mmm shit..” you whimpered, tears still streaming down your face. “It’s ok, baby. Don’t cry. I’m going to take care of you.” He whispered, kissing down your body until he reached your loincloth, pulling it down with his teeth.

“Lo’ak, I-im breaking up with you.” You cried, knowing that you didn’t even believe yourself. Knowing that after this, you would walk out of the forest with him, hand in hand.

“Don’t say that, mama. I’d kill you if you left me. Matter of fact, I’d kill myself. Is that what you want?” He spoke lowly, attaching his mouth to your cunt, French kissing it slowly as he glared into your puffy eyes. He grabbed your legs, pulling them over his shoulders as he caressed your thighs.

You moaned loudly, throwing your head back as your dainty hand connected to the back of his head. “Yes, baby. Open up to me!” He moaned, flicking his tongue against you clit. He trailed his hand up to your top, untying it gently.

“Lo’ak, please. w-we aren’t good for eachother.” You grunted while caressing his head softly, allowing him to pull you back into his toxic embrace.

“Stop saying that! You know I’m the best thing for you.” He growled, giving your clit one last flick before kissing your thigh. He flipped you over on your stomach before laying flat on top of you. He ripped his loincloth off, throwing it to the side. He grabbed his cock, sliding into you gently.

“Let me show you how much I love you, y/n. I’ll be good for you, I promise baby.” He spoke softly in your ear, thrusting into you slowly. You bit your lip, grabbing his large hands to hold them close to your heart. He sped up the pace, going deeper than he ever has.

You never truly believed him when he said he’d change. But he was so gentle with you today, solely focused on how you were feeling. It made you feel like he was capable of change, capable of being the man you knew he could be for you.

“Please, don’t stop!” You whined, throwing your head down to the moss. He kissed the back of your neck, still thrusting into you at a steady pace.

“I’ll never stop, y/n. I’ll never leave you alone, baby. You’re mine, ok?” He moaned in your ear before tugging on it with his canines. With you being a delusional mess for him, you nodded frantically.

“Yes, I’m yours! I’ll always be yours.” You whined, kissing his hand as tears blurred your vision. “Do you love me? Huh? Tell me you love me, and that you’ll never leave me.” He spoke lowly, his hot breath breezing past your ear. You felt that familiar knot in your stomach building up, in turn, making you submit to him, as you always have.

“Yes, lo’ak! I-i love you so much, I-I’ll n-ever leave you, baby!” You stuttered, holding his hands tightly as you felt his cock twitch inside of you, repeatedly. He let out a loud moan, thrusting into you harder to catch his high.

“Oh, baby! Please keep talking to me like that! Im gonna fucking cum!” He grunted in your ear before giving it a small peck. You loved when he became a complete mess for you, it turned you on and today was no different. “Mmmm, fuuuuck lo’ak! I-i dont know what I would do without you baby! I need you so bad!”

You whined loudly. You closed your eyes tightly, squeezing his hands in yours when you felt your high approaching quickly.

“Mhmm what else, mama?! Come on, t-talk to Me. Im almost there!” He whimpered, squeezing your hands as well, shutting his eyes tightly as his face screwed in pleasure.

“y-you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to Me. I-I would never give you up!” You whimpered, shaking your head to confirm your previous statement. He purred in your ear, before losing it completely.

“Fuck! *thrust* Fuck! *thrust* Fuck! *thrust*”

He moaned before coming undone inside of you, painting your walls with his seed. Yet and still, He kept a steady pace just for you, making sure you were taken care of. You felt the knot in your stomach coming undone, convulsing under his whimpering and moaning figure.

“Shiiit! Cumming!!” You screamed as your juices merged with his, coating his cock with every deep thrust.

“Goooood girl, baby! Such a good girl for daddy, aren’t you?” He whispered in Your ear, thrusting into you slowly as he rode out his high, also helping you ride out yours.

“Fuuuck yes! yes! I’m a good girl, just for you!” You moaned, letting out a sigh of relief, along with lo’ak. You were hoping that he meant everything he said about changing for you, so that you two could start fresh. But, just like the other times, he lied.

He continued to be possessive and aggressive. He would stalk, and watch your every move, watch for other men who could drive a wedge in between you two. All the while, still finding time to flirt with the other girls in the clan. Although you didn’t have solid proof of cheating, you had a feeling, and that’s all you needed. He would leave the hut early and come in late at night. And when you questioned him, the conversation always went alittle something like this:

“What? You don’t trust me?” Lo’ak would say, barely above a whisper. His ears flat, as he held his tail in his hand. Your gaze would soften, seeing his sad demeanor.

“n-no lo’ak, I do trust you!” You would nod frantically, caressing his biceps as you planted soft kisses across his chest.

“I thought we had something different, y/n. I thought YOU were different.” He would speak softly, shaking his head at you with disappointment before trying to leave. You would pull him back, willing to do anything to keep him right where he was. And it was an endless cycle for the two of you. If he wasn’t manipulating you, you were micromanaging him, making sure that nothing could hide under your nose. However, it didn’t seem like lo’ak cared that much. He would flirt with girls in-front of you, and today was no different.

Everyone shuffled around the common area, doing their daily chores. If lo’ak wasn’t stalking you, you were stalking him, watching his every move as he held long conversations with the other females.

Today, he decided to make conversation with Malina, who so happened to hate your guts. And vice versa. What made you mad was that lo’ak knew about your hatred towards her, and she knew that lo’ak was yours. Your blood boiled as you watched them laugh, and joke with eachother. You stalked from the trees, squeezing your bow tightly.

How could he? Any other girl but her! Why would he do this? Knowing the relationship you had with Malina?

You were furious, tail swooshing behind you in defense as you huffed with every breath. They could both die for all you cared, but more so Malina. She had the nerve to talk to lo’ak, knowing he belonged to you. You thought maybe you should just get rid of her, so she could leave him alone. So you wouldn’t have to worry about her.

All of theses thoughts ran through your head as you stood tall, drawing your bow back as you aimed it at Malina’s temple. You saw Malina raise a hand, running it down lo’aks bicep. And that was all the motivation you needed to take her fucking head off. You released the bow, watching it fly directly towards Malinda, just for it to hit the tree bark just inches above her head.

She screamed, ducking all the way down. Lo’ak jumped, stepping back from Malina slightly before looking around the forest in alertness. He had a feeling, but he didn’t want to believe it. However, he knew you all too well, and wouldn’t put this past you. Shit, he would do it too.

You cursed internally, disappointed in yourself for not putting a whole through her head. You shook your head in defeat, stepping out of the trees slowly. Lo’ak chuckled, throwing his head down as he shook it all-knowingly.

“Y/n, what the fuck!” Malina screamed in disbelief, standing to her full height. She looked at the bow sticking out of the bark, before slowly turning to you with wide eyes.

“Malina, I’m so sorry! My aim is so off today! I meant to kill you. Silly me!” You confessed with a sarcastic tone, grinning from ear to ear. Lo’ak bit his lip in anger, shooting you the scariest glare before turning to a flabbergasted Malina.

“I am so sorry for my girlfriend. She didn’t mean it.” He mumbled, trying not to let you hear what he was saying on your behalf.

“Oh, I meant it. Wish it would’ve went through that pretty little head, too.” You scoffed, glaring at malina. Lo’ak shut his eyes in frustration, clenching his jaw. He took a deep breath, darting over to you. He grabbed you by your hair, dragging you to your shared hut.

“What the fuck was that about, mama?” Lo’ak huffed in anger, slamming the hut door behind him. Coming face to face with you.

“You two were talking for too long, so I just ended the conversation early.” You spoke softly, crossing your arms as you glared up at him. He grinned, pulling you closer to him by your neck.

“You’re fucking crazy, you know that?” He said in his melodic tone, staring down at you with nothing but lust. He liked when you were jealous now that he found himself being completely obsessed with you. He also liked how quick you were to kill that girl, all for him.

“And you’re not? Threatening to kill me if I left you, but you do shit like this. Flirting with any girl that’ll give you the time of day. You’re fucking sick. You make me crazy, it’s all your fault!” You spat in a low tone, heat radiating off of your body in anger. He licked his lips, backing you into the wall harshly.

“Oh, I’m sick? But how did we get here?” He asked with a cocked brow, tilting his head in confusion.

“I told you in the beginning, that we wouldn’t work together. But you wouldn’t fucking listen. You just couldn’t take no for an answer. So I gave in, and now I’m stuck. I’ll never let you go. And I will kill you if you try to leave me. That’s not a threat, it’s a fucking promise. Play and see what happens.” He growled, pulling you closer to him by the grip he had on your neck.

“I can’t fucking stand you. I’ve had enough of your stupid game. I don’t wanna play anymore. I QUIT!” You shouted, pushing him away. You started to walk off but he snatched you back by your queue, pinning it on the wall. You hissed at him, trying to push him away to no avail.

“You’re done when I SAY you’re done. And I wanna keep playing.” He growled, holding your dainty wrists in one of his large hands. You shook your head wearily, so fucking tired of his games. He was draining you of everything, like a leech. Your emotions got the best of you, as your eyes started to water, blurring your vision completely.

He watched you on the verge of breaking down, and his gaze softened. He let your wrists go, finally understanding the severity of the situation. You leaned your head on his chest in exhaustion, feeling so sick that the thought of standing was making you tired. Lo’ak grabbed you in his arms, stopping your movements as he tried to keep you upright.

“Y/n, c-come on baby. Don’t do this.” He grunted, watching your body shake from your constant wailing. “No! w-why do you d- do this to me?!! You’re killing me, lo’ak! I-i can’t!” You cried, punching his chest weakly. You weeped, burying your head in his chest.

“Y/n- i-I’m sorry, please. I-it’ll never happen again! I’ll stop talking to her. I’ll never talk to her again. I’ll kill her if she comes near me, I only want you!” He rambled, as he always did when you threatened to leave him. You shook your head lazily, placing your fists on his chest.

“You always say that. Yet here we are! And here I am, looking stupid for staying with you.” You whimpered, leaning your head on the wall, looking into his teary eyes. He shook his head frantically, terrified at the thought of you leaving him, and him having to do the unthinkable to you.

“No, no, no! Please! I’ll change, y/n! I can’t live without you! You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I don’t wanna lose you, I CANT LOSE YOU!” He confessed, voice cracking from his sadness.

“Then SHOW ME! Show me you don’t wanna lose me!” You shouted, looking into his puffy eyes as tears fell from your face.

“You want me to show you? I’ll show you!” He growled, picking you up by your thighs, connecting his lips to yours, and like always, he sucked you in again. You grabbed the back of his head, deepening the kiss as his hands roamed your body.

You wrapped your hands around his waist, loosening the knot in his loincloth. It fell to his feet, allowing his cock to spring up in between the two of you. You took it in your hand, stroking the beads of precum out of his pulsing tip. He moaned in your mouth, bucking his hips into your hand. He slid a hand down to your loincloth, completely ripping it off of your hips, deeming it unwearable.

“You know I love you, right?” He spoke lowly in your ear, planting wet kisses on your neck. You really couldn’t tell anymore. The way he made you feel on a regular basis was unbearable, but the way he made it up to you was….unmatched. And you knew deep down that you would never find anyone that could hold a candle to the way lo’ak handled you.

“y-yes, I know!” You moaned, pushing your soaked cunt to his throbbing cock, pulling him closer to you by his shoulders.

“Just make it up to me. I-I need it, lo’ak!” You whined, bringing his cock up to your cunt, using the tip to massage your clit.

“You can have it, baby. It’s all yours, I swear. No one else’s.” He grunted, sliding into you with ease. You both let out a series of moans as he thrusted into you slowly. Still kissing your neck, placing a hand on the wall, next to your head.You clung to him, laying your head on his shoulder as you whined with every slow thrust.

“I-I need you to know that i would NEVER cheat on you. No other girl c-could ever make me feel the way you do, y/n. I’m crazy about you…” He whimpered, gnawing at your neck, biting down until he drew blood. You winced at the mix of pain and pleasure. He quickly licked the womb clean, speeding up his pace inside of you.

You would be lying if you said he wasn’t convincing. Especially when he would wait until he’s drilling into you to confess his love. It was such a manipulative move on his part. How could you even question him in the middle of him fucking you how he did? You couldn’t, and that was his plan.

“I-I know, lo’ak! Just keep fucking me like this, please don’t stop!” You moaned, leaning back on the wall, throwing your head back in pure bliss. He deemed this the perfect opportunity to nuzzle his head into your exposed chest, leaving his scent on your body. He purred into your chest, tail wrapping around your back. He slowly trailed his eyes to yours, planting a kiss on your quivering lips.

“I wont stop, baby. You like when I fuck you like this, huh? Tell me how good it feels.” He whispered, thrusting into you one hard time before rolling his hips into your sweetspot. You screamed loudly, digging your fingernails into his biceps. Your face screwed in pleasure, shaking your head from side to side in pleasure. “Come on baby, look at me!” He pouted smacking your face a couple of times before snaking his hand up to your neck, using it to focus your attention on him. Your eyes finally locked as he started to thrust into you at a steady pace. The room fell silent for a moment, as you both indulged in the squelching sounds with every stroke, looking deep into each others eyes.

“You make me feel soooo *thrust* fucking *thrust* good *thrust*.” You screamed, breaking the silence as tears welled in your eyes. He nodded in agreement, kissing your lips once more, muffling your cries for a moment.

“You m-make me -ngh!- feel good too, baby. I’m so fucking in love with you!” He growled through gritted teeth, shaking your neck with every syllable. He sped up his pace, making your jaw drop as you felt that knot in your stomach tightening.

“Yeeess, baby! Juuuust like that! Let go for daddy.” He nodded, biting his lip as your walls fluttered around his cock. A tear fell down you cheek as you convulsed in his arms.

“Daddy’s sorry, baby! I’m sooo sorry!” He spoke softly, kissing your bottom lip as your eyes rolled back. And just like that, you came undone on him. Every stroke revealing his cream coated cock.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you? I’m almost there baby.” He moaned, throwing his head back as he used your hips to rut into you, chasing his orgasm. You whimpered, as he brushed against your sensitive sweetspot with every stroke.

“Shiiit, I’m cumming baby!” He whined, leaning his head on your shoulder, burying his seed deep inside of you. “Oh, yesss lo’ak!” You moaned breathily, scratching his back up as he thrusted into you slowly, riding out his high. And just like that, he had you again. Wrapped around his finger, just how he liked it.

And as always, he fed you a bunch of BS. Although he stopped talking to other girls, the obsession and possessive behavior grew stronger. There were times where he wouldn’t even let you out of his sight; dragging you around with him everywhere. Anytime a male even looked at you for a second too long, he would lash out at them. Soon, everyone knew to stay clear of you, scared of what lo’ak would do if he saw you with another.

This caused loneliness, and you resented him for it. The only other male you could somewhat talk to was Neteyam. And lo’ak had a problem with that most of the time.

You mainly went to Neteyam for advice on your relationship. And he always spoke the truth to you. Telling you that it would be best if you stayed clear of lo’ak. And boy, did that make lo’ak mad.

“Y/n, I hate seeing you like this. It’s like he’s locked you in this hut. You need to dead his ass.” Neteyam explained, leaning on the hut wall as you sat on the cot across from him.

“Teyam, I can’t leave him. Do you know how many times he’s threatened to kill me? Kill himself? Plus….I love him.” You spoke, gesturing softly. Neteyam sighed in frustration at you, as you sat infront of him singing the same old song.

“He would never. I wouldn’t let him. And, he’s way too scared of my dad. He’s not fucking stupid. Crazy? Yes….but stupid? Nah.” Neteyam shook his head, crossing his arms with a light chuckle.

“You don’t understand. You don’t hear the conversations we have. I just….can’t leave him.”You shook your head, bringing your knees to your chest.

“He treats you like shit. Locking you up from the outside world. Don’t you think that’s alittle fucking toxic? Are you scared of him?” He asked, the last part echoing in your mind.

Were you scared of him?

You were scared of what he was capable of, but deep down, you knew lo’ak. And you knew his intentions were good. You knew he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, and that he would protect you. How could you be scared of your protector? Right?

“What’s there to be scared of?” A familiar voice said from the entrance of the hut, catching you and neteyam’s attention. It was non other than your smothering boyfriend, leaning against the door frame.

“Last time I checked, you set us up. Now you’re trying to break us apart? What, so you can have her to yourself?” Lo’ak spoke angrily, walking towards Neteyam. Neteyam stood up straight, assuming a position of dominance against his younger brother. Your heart pounded, watching the two brothers meet half with aggressive demeanors.

“I wish I knew you would treat her this way. Then I wouldn’t have set her up with your psycho ass.” Neteyam growled, getting in lo’aks visibly angry face.

“And if I find out you’ve threatened her again, I’ll kill YOU. How about that?” He growled, poking lo’aks chest. Lo’ak tilted his head in anger, tail swaying high in aggression. You panicked, shuffling off of the cot to stand in between them. Both of the men towering over your small frame as they eyed each other with so much hatred. You couldn’t help but think this was all your fault.

“Please… d-dont do this. Don’t fight.” You whispered wearily, getting choked up by your own tears as you shift your attention in between both brothers. They completely ignored you, still staring each-other down.“Neteyam, j-just go. I’m fine, really.” You grabbed his arms, shaking him to get his attention.

“Yeah, you should go Neteyam. Y/n and I need to….talk.” Lo’ak grinned, wrapping his arms around your shoulders lightly, pulling you flush to his chest.

Neteyam hissed at lo’ak before meeting your soft gaze. “If I see so much as a scratch on her, I’ll beat the shit out of you.” Neteyam spoke deeply, bumping lo’aks shoulder as he walked out of the hut, shutting the door behind him.

There was an awkward silence as he swayed you back and forth, before he broke it. “Why do you test me, y/n?” He asked calmly, slowly squeezing his arms together around your neck.“L-Lo’ak I- I’m sorry.” You apologized, not even knowing the reason why. You held onto his arms, trying to loosen his grip around your neck.

“Nah, don’t apologize now. All you ever do is is try to leaving me. Telling me that you want to break up with me.” His voice grew angrier, making you nervous. He spun you around in one fell swoop, walking you back into the wall by your neck, slamming you into it.

“What the fuck do you want me to do, huh? WHAT THE FUCK DO I HAVE TO DO TO GET YOU TO UNDERSTAND THAT YOU’RE NOT GOING NO FUCKING WHERE!” He growled, shaking your neck with every word. You had never seen him this angry before, and it made you tremble under his grasp.

“I-I UNDERSTAND! LO’AK I LOVE YOU!” You whimpered, voice shaky as tears flooded your vision. He shook his head, loosening his grip on your neck.

“Stop saying that! You don’t fucking mean it! You try to leave me every chance you get. And I do whatever I can to make you stay, make you love me. But I’m not enough for you. And everyone thinks I’m bad news, influencing you to believe the same! I’ve tried everything with you. I’ve apologized numerous times, I’ve stopped talking to other girls like you asked me to, but nothing is enough for you. Guess I’ve just gotta fuck you until you get it. Until EVERYONE gets it. You are MINE goddamit!” He roared, nothing but rage in his golden eyes as he punched the hut wall, creating a gaping whole in the foundation. He grabbed your hair, yanking you towards the cot before throwing you onto it.

“Lo’ak please!” You begged as he flipped you over on you stomach. “No, fuck that! I’m gonna show your little ass! Show you who the fuck you belong to.” He growled, all while tying your hands up with his hair tie. He tore your loincloth off, throwing it to the side.

“Lo’ak! I know I belong to you! I know I’m YOURS!” You shouted, looking back at him, only to see his hand raised to the heavens, coming down on your ass so hard that it left a handprint. You yelped in pain, squirming under him.

“What did I tell you, huh? Who do you belong to?!” He yelled, spanking you hard at a constant pace. “Lo’ak, MERCY!!” You screamed, tears tricking down your cheeks with every harsh blink.

“ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION!” He roared, holding your wrists in place as he continued your punishment. “YOU- I BELONG TO YOU, BABY!” You whimpered, trying desperately to crawl from under him.

“I don’t believe you yet, mama…” he growled, pulling you up by your hair, before biting down on your neck, marking you as his. The blood flowed down your shoulder, dripping onto the cot. You hissed, feeling your neck throb from the open womb.

“YOU. ARE. MINE! Do you understand?!” He spoke through gritted teeth, tightening his grip on your hair. “Yes, lo’ak! I fucking get it!” You shouted in anger. He chuckled, kissing your cheek as he untied his loincloth with one hand, throwing it across the room.

“There’s my girl! I love making you mad. Gives me a reason to fuck you like a whore, just to straighten you out.” He whispered in your ear before kissing it.

He lined his cock up with your entrance, plunging into you deep. He pulled your hips up to meet his pelvis before he started rutting into you hard and steady. He gripped your long ponytail, wrapping it around his forearm to pull you up. Every thrust causing droplets of blood to fall beneath you.

“Say my fucking name, baby.” He spoke in a low and calm voice, smacking your bruised ass. Sending shock waves through your entire body.

“Looo’aaaak!” You whined, taking your lip in between your teeth, shutting your eyes tightly. He opened his mouth, letting spit drip down to where you were both connected before throwing his head back in pure bliss.

“This pussy is driving me crazy, baby!” He spoke sensually, thrusting into you faster. “Mmmm! you fuck me soooo good. I can’t get enough of you!” You moaned, smiling deliriously as your lower abdomen tightened.

“I’m so fucking obsessed with you, y/n!” He moaned, shaking his head before planting a soft kiss on your womb, coating his lips with your blood. He tugged on your hair, bringing your neck all the way back to kiss your lips passionately. The copper taste of your blood consuming you, before he pulled away.

“I’m obsessed with you too! No one can take your place! I-I’m so sorry daddy!” You whined, tears flowing down your cheeks from the immense amount of pleasure. Lo’ak groaned at your sweet words, feeling that familiar knot build in his stomach.

“No, no! I’m sorry, mama! I’ve b-been a fucking idiot.” He moaned, biting his lip as he admired your position. Your whines and moans got louder and louder as your peak neared.

“Go on and cum for daddy. I’m right behind you.” He spoke deeply, smacking your ass as he licked his lips. And that was all you needed, twitching under him as you came undone.“Yeeesss!” You screamed, screwing your face in pleasure as your eyes fell shut.

“Mmm! fuck! *thrust* fuck! *thrust* fuck! *thrust*” lo’ak grunted, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he painted your walls. He thrusted into you slowly, riding out his high.

“Untie me.” You moaned, trying to rip your way out of the restraints. “Why? So you can run away?” He chuckled deliriously, reminiscing on his first time with you.

“I just wanna fuck you so bad. Let me, please? I won’t leave. I’ll never leave.” You shook your head in reassurance. He bit his lip before tugging on the restraint, untying it from around your wrists. And immediately, you rose up from your position, pulling him down before you hopped on top of him, straddling his lap.

“Shit, you weren’t kidding, huh? You want this dick? Take it!” He grinned, plunging his cock into you. Both of you letting out a series of moans.

You watched his face screw in pleasure as you began to ride him. He threw his head back, exposing his neck. You weren’t one for marking but something came over you as you flashed your fangs, bending down to sink them into his neck, drawing blood. He hissed from the pain and pleasure, gripping your hips tightly. He watched you sit up slowly, blood dripping down your mouth and chest as you looked at him with nothing but lust.

“You are so fucking hot.” He muttered through gritted teeth, reaching up to rip your top off with harsh force, revealing your huge breasts. His blood mixing with yours, dripping down your breasts with each bounce to his lap.“Yeah, I know. And it’s all for you. I’m all yours!” You moaned, using his shoulders to bounce on him harder.

“Comere.” He spoke sensually, grabbing your neck to bring you down to his lips, indulging in a heated kiss. Tongues fighting for dominance as they danced around eachother. You pulled away, hovering over his lips.

“Open.” You commanded, and he obliged. You let a line of spit flow into his mouth as he swallowed it happily, bringing you in for another kiss. He thrusted up into you, causing you to moan loudly against his lips before he pulled away.

“I love you.” He whispered, gripping your ass to guide you down onto him. “I love you too.” You moaned before taking your lip in between your teeth, staring deep into his eyes.

“I’d really kill you if you left me. I fucking mean it.” He muttered with a clenched jaw, tightening his grip on your neck. You giggled deliriously with a weak grin.

“I know, daddy. I’d kill you if you left me. y-you know I’m good for it.” You spoke seductively in his ear before kitty licking it once, sending chills down his spine.

“Mmm, daddy’s little monster, huh?” He groaned, feeling his high slowly approaching him. You nodded with the same delirious smile, sitting up on him to speed up the pace. Your moans got louder as your abdomen got tighter, getting that familiar feeling again.

“d-daddy I’m gonna cum!” You whined, pouting at him with your puffy eyes. He nodded, gripping your hips again, using them to fuck into you just right.

“Come on baby, give it to me. Show me how much you love this dick.” He spoke lowly, watching your eyes roll back as you started to tremble on top of him. And just like that, you came undone again, coating his cock with your juices.

“Mmm, fuuuck! I’m about to cum in this pussy baby!” He moaned, throwing his head back in pleasure, releasing inside of you once more. Both of you letting out breathless moans as you came down from your highs. He looked up at you, pulling you down to him by your hair to bring you in for a passionate kiss. He pulled away, staring you in the eyes before speaking.

“Never forget who you belong to…”

Taglist: @number1gal @loak-bae @tiredmamaissy @neytirishottie @viajaeger @terrorthewolf @lethargicluv @reyzzsostellar @pullandhug @m0nst3rfk3r @agelsully @jakescumdump @wekiamo @st-cass @cleardonutangelwagon @tsireqas @satanlovedays @afro-hispwriter @thecutieyahia @urfavgirlmakenna @fanboyluvr @iameatingmyhair @secretflowerobservation @violet-19999 @neteyamsprincess @xreadersstuff @sweetllamaparadise @lia-nath @sullymenrhot @dotheyevenknowmars @xdbluesky @slay-nt @domino-x3-blog @ladylovegood-69 @itssomeonereading @sweetirilly

[rottenpumpkin13]

Shinra Floor New Year’s party from hell pretty plz? 🥺

The New Year's Resolution Challenge

• Sephiroth and Genesis arrive at the ballroom. Both of them are dressed in the exact same blue suit.

Sephiroth: Happy new year, director.

• Lazard doesn't reply. He takes one look at them, spits out his drink and starts laughing.

Genesis: Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. We didn't coordinate this, you know!

Lazard: You look like two penguins—

Sephiroth: We coincidentally had the same suit and chose to wear it tonight.

Genesis: And we could not decide who got to wear it, so we gave up trying to settle the issue.

• Rufus Shinra walks by also wearing the same suit. Lazard absolutely loses his shit.

• Reno and Rude swing by, both with cameras and starts taking pictures of the trio. The camera flash is so strong, Sephiroth is blinded and topples onto Genesis. The two start squabbling on the floor. Reno takes more pictures.

• Lazard watches all of this go down. He looks at his drink sadly.

Lazard: I'm going to need something stronger.

• Later, Zack and Angeal are arguing as they walk up to the table.

Zack: You're so pessimistic!

Angeal: No, I'm not. I just think making "eat healthier" your new year's resolution when your favorite food is a deep-fried donut bacon sandwich is useless.

Genesis: What are you two on about?

Zack: Angeal doesn't think I can keep my new year's resolution! I want to eat healthier food. *he takes a bite out of his fifteenth slider*

Genesis: And I want a robot who slaps Sephiroth on command. Doesn't look like either of us are getting our wish.

Sephiroth: Zack, if you want to keep your new year's resolution, why don't you start tonight? That way, you can assess how well you'll be able to keep it.

Zack: You know what? You're right! *he throws his slider over his shoulder⏤it hits Heidegger on the back of his head* I'm starting now! From now on, no more junk food! I'm a changed ma⏤wait, look! They just brought out the cake!

Sephiroth: Zackary.

Zack: Fine, fine. You're right! I don't need cake!

Angeal: Actually, that's a great idea. Why don't we all start our new year's resolutions tonight?

Genesis: Oh-ho! Do I hear a challenge? The loser who can't keep his resolution until midnight owes everyone else G$1000.

Angeal: The only reason you're so keen on putting money in this is because you don't have a new year's resolution.

Genesis: How can I be any better than I am now?

*Everyone starts talking over each other giving suggestions*

Genesis: Okay OKAY I get it! Goddess!

Sephiroth: My new year's resolution is to be more approachable and friendlier.

Angeal: Mine is to not get stressed out too easily.

Genesis: And I'll take a vow of silence! One whole night without quoting Loveless nor speaking at all⏤

Sephiroth: FINALLY.

*Everyone looks at him*

Sephiroth: I mean *clears his throat* That sounds like a wonderful idea.

• Later, Zack and Angeal are hanging around the buffet table. Angeal is admiring the fruit display (mostly the pyramid of Banora Whites) while Zack looks longingly at the mini hotdogs.

Angeal: Why don't you have some fruit? Zack: Good idea!

• Zack reaches for one of the dumbapples at the bottom of the pyramid. Immediately the display crumbles and crashes to the ground. Over 100 apples roll around all over the place. Angeal goes red in the face and opens his mouth to scold Zack.

Zack: Ah-ah! You can't get mad at me!

*Angeal's eye twitches*

• Meanwhile, Genesis and Sephiroth are walking around the party. Genesis is silently reading his book, trying his best not to talk. They approach Kunsel and a few other SOLDIERs. Sephiroth grins big and wide.

• The SOLDIERs scream and run away.

Sephiroth: What's wrong with my smile? *Genesis opens his mouth to respond, but then the realization dawns on him. He clamps it shut again*

Sephiroth: Hm. I bet you're dying to make fun of me.

Genesis:

Sephiroth: If only someone would point out every single critical flaw of mine.

*A thick blue vein appears on Genesis's forehead*

• Meanwhile, Lazard is showing Angeal some deep breathing exercises.

Lazard: Relax, inhale. Imagine you're walking on a beach...

• A football flies in out of nowhere and hits Angeal in the face, knocking him down. Kunsel rushes up to him.

Kunsel: Apologies! Me and the guys were messing around!

Angeal: *eye twitching* It is fine.

Kunsel: You're blue.

Angeal: IT IS FINE.

• Meanwhile, Zack is watching Reno load up his plate with steak, fries and fried chicken. He's salivating.

Reno: Dude, one slice of pizza won't kill you. It's all about moderation.

Zack: No way! I'm a changed man. I don't need all that heart-attack food to be happy.

*Reno takes a bite out of a chicken wing*

*Zack immediately starts sobbing*

• Meanwhile, Sephiroth and Genesis are back at their table. Sephiroth has Genesis's copy of Loveless in hand and is reciting it wrong on purpose. Genesis is slamming his head on the table.

Sephiroth: Hath the shattered dreams of the morrow.

*BANG*

Sephiroth: Wings are lost, dreams stripped away.

*BANG*

Sephiroth: Mystery in infinite is the goddess of the gift.

*BANG*

Sephiroth: Two friends go into battle. Three of them die.

*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*

• Meanwhile, Angeal is under a table meditating. There's ten minutes to go until midnight. He just has to last ten more minutes.

• Suddenly, there's a commotion outside. Angeal slips his head out to see that Zack has attacked president Shinra. Apparently, the president had a 20lb lobster delivered to his table and Zack went feral. Four turks are trying and failing to pull Zack away from the lobster meat on the president's plate.

• Zack has failed his new year's resolution.

• Angeal rushes out. "I TOLD YOU YOU COULDN'T DO IT! LET GO⏤LET GO OF THE MAN'S LOBSTER, ZACK! ARE YOU GROWLING AT ME!? THAT'S IT *He slips his shoe off to use it as a weapon*

• Angeal has failed his new year's resolution.

• Meanwhile, Sephiroth and Genesis approach Tseng and Rufus. Sephiroth is smiling.

Sephiroth: Good evening, gentlemen. I hope you're having a wonderful new year's eve. How are you both?

Tseng: I'm well, Sephiroth, thank you. You're being awfully sociable,

Sephiroth: It's my new year's resolution.

Tseng: You're doing a good job!

• Rufus notices Genesis's silence.

Rufus: What about you, Rhapsodos? What's your goal for the new year?

Genesis:

Rufus: Do you understand my question?

Genesis:

Rufus: Oh, have I upset you? Are you mad at me?

Sephiroth: Genesis is just shy because he has feelings for you.

*Genesis snaps his head towards him, then looks at Rufus, shaking his head violently*

Rufus: ....Is that so?

Sephiroth: Oh, yes. He's just gone on and on about how attractive and charming he finds you.

Rufus: I had no idea you felt like this, Commander.

*Genesis is glaring at Sephiroth. If looks could kill, Sephiroth would be slaughtered*

Rufus: You don't need to be shy around me, Genesis. We can talk about this like men.

Sephiroth: That would be hard to do. Genesis claims to feel emasculated around me. It appears that my⏤quote⏤strong, unyielding masculine energy provokes his inferiority complex.

*Genesis is turning purple*

Tseng: There's nothing to be ashamed of, Genesis. We all have our flaws, you especially.

• Genesis inhales.

Genesis: THAT'S IT! I DON'T NEED THIS! I DON'T NEED THIS AT ALL. I'LL PAY YOU EACH 1000 GIL! HECK, I'LL PAY YOU 10,000 GIL EACH IF IT MEANS I'LL NEVER HAVE TO GO THROUGH THAT AGAIN!

*he turns to Tseng*

Genesis: HOW DARE YOU CLAIM I HAVE FLAWS. MY FLAWS ARE MY BUSINESS, YOU INSUFFERABLE LAP-DOG!

*he turns to Rufus*

Genesis: AND PLEASE! I AM SO OUT OF YOUR LEAGUE! HOW DARE YOU BELIEVE ALL THAT RUBBISH! THE ONLY FEELINGS I HARBOR FOR YOU, RUFUS, ARE CONTEMPT AND PITY!

*he turns to Sephiroth*

Genesis: WHENEVER YOU SMILE, YOU LOOK LIKE THE SHARK FROM FINDING NEMO!

Sephiroth:

Genesis: AND ME, FEEL EMASCULATED AROUND YOU? YOU, WITH YOUR GIRLY HAIR AND QUADRUPLE-D CHEST?? YOU MUST BE OUT OF YOUR MIND.

Genesis: NOW, IF YOU GENTLEMEN WILL EXCUSE ME, I'M GOING TO GRAB A MICROPHONE, GET UP ON THAT STAGE, AND TALK FOR AN HOUR!

• Genesis stomps off angrily.

Tseng: He needs an exorcism.

Rufus: By the way, Sephiroth, why did you instruct the turks to deliver a 20lb lobster to the president's table?

Tseng: And why did you have me suggest to Angeal that he meditate under the table right across from the president's?

Sephiroth: Because I am a mastermind.

[vumming]

all of us are dead — jang woo-jin “barriers”

contents : cringe, cliché(?)

a/n: requested by, anon [ hello can i req a jealous jang woojin x reader 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 ty ] HAH THIS HAS BEEN IN THE DRAFTS I DON'T KNOW HOW LONG LOL

“Hey. Who was that?”

He tries to act cool, walking beside you as he looks at the direction of the guy who tried to act familiar with you—his words, not mine. Eyeing the boy like a predator despite him already walking away.

You scoffed, brushing off his arms that lays on your shoulder with a teasing tone, “and why do you care?”

“I asked first.”

“And I asked second.”

“I'm still first.” There is a cheeky grin on his face but it didn't reached his eyes, a hurtful look then flickered for a minute before they disappear like a flicker of a light. Woo-jin took a step forward with a smug grin present on his face that makes you have the drive to somehow—crush that smirk off.

Raising a brow at his somewhat interest, you answered with a huff. “It was just someone from the other class.”

“Why did he approached you then?” Woo-jin bites back the words that should've followed, watching as you blinked at him owlishly, what does he want with you? surely he didn't confessed, right? He sees you cross your arms over your chest, cocking your head to the side with a slight grin.

Oh no-

“He just asked for my helped for the upcoming class collaboration.”

Oh.

Woo-jin blinked.

He felt so stupid assuming things but how can he help it? You're likeable—especially in his eyes so how can he not like you? Woo-jin blinks, staring at the place that the boy went out before glancing back at you. There's something soft with how his smile turned softer.

It is unlike the ones he would shoot you, that boyish grin of his that looks stupid.

Now he looks more stupid.

And yet, that made your heart skip a beat at the sight only for you to internally beat yourself up for thinking such things.

"Why.. why the hell do you look relieved?" Came out of your mouth, straightforward and blunt, a tone of confusion seeping in as you can't help but think. Why?

Woo-jin spluttered a cough at your words, hitting his chest in repeat as he choked in his own spit. "M-me?! Relieved?" His eyes were blown wide akin to saucers.

"It's not that..!" He defended himself, "I was just wondering if you're really that reliable for him to pick you to help him." And like a child, he took out his tongue while pulling his eyelid which is a kid's universal sign of disrespect.

"Why you!" You gasped at his childish behavior, reaching to pinch him only for his swift lithe hands to capture your own.

"Nuh-uh!" "Oi, let go! You stupid—"

"Who are you calling stupid?" He retorts, taking both of your wrists as he dodges your pinches. "You! You son of a—!" When you couldn't hit him, you settled for hitting him by the shin with your feet, raising it to kick him playfully.

There's laughter all around as the two of you pick on each other, a usual occurrence in your friendship that the both of you had come and learnt to love and do. The playful quarrel and mischievous shenanigans that the both of you act.

It's pleasant.

But why does his eyes twinkle so much with affection as he looks at you, despite those boyish grin of his, the crinkles on his eyes softens every now and then.

Your foot hits his knee as he hissed, letting out a small pained cry as he crumbles to the ground like a kid deprived of cookies from the jar. "Gah!"

"Damn you hit me too hard.." He murmured, head bowed as he clutched his knee. You follow, frantic and panicking, his hold on one of your wrists still firm but tender. It's like he doesn't want to hurt you.

Hands not knowing what to do as you watch him, "It- Wait I didn't mean to do it that harsh!" You try to defend yourself, kneeling before him as you reach for his knee delicately, afraid that you'll hurt him further.

"Kidding!" Woo-jin exclaimed, craning his neck to look at you only to freeze.

The proximity is too close.

One move could make the two of you..

One.

His eyes that's trained on yours, unblinking, briefly glanced at your lips. You could see how his adam apple bob, like there is something stuck inside his throat. But you aren't fairing any better with how your whole body freeze.

Two.

"You.." his lips move, the voice barely audible if not for the closeness that you both share.

"Why won't you pull away..?" He whispers, still watching you.

The two of you were stuck in the moment, time seemingly freezing in place like how the two of you are focused towards each other. "Well, why aren't you..?" You turned his question back on him.

For there is no way that you'll be able to answer that. Not without spilling the thoughts you've always had inside your head. One that can ruin what the both of you share, this friendship that both of you are content with.

But is he truly?

Three.

He sighs through his nose, eyes still on you as his fingers that's holding you, twitch. "Because.."

Without warning, he gathers his thoughts and faces reality, taking the opportunity he was blessed with. Hand pulling you down to press your lips against his.

Soft.

Woo-jin's lips are chapped, yet the softness of it overwhelms you.

The way his other arm snakes to pull you by the back of your neck, the desperate feelings he has for you leaks from his actions.

Was this how kiss always felt? You don't know, but the chemistry doesn't fail.

And before you knew it, it was over.

"I don't want you being with him. Even if it's helping him." He murmurs, not pulling away completely. His forehead pressed against yours oh so sweetly. Beneath those eyes were intensity, the genuine and raw emotion came spilling out as soon as he built up his confidence.

"I don't like it."

Woo-jin.. just ruined the barriers that bounds you two as friends.

[twst-drabbles]

Trey 3

Summary: Trey doesn’t know what he’s done, but if he wants a chance at your mercy, he will have to eat this perfectly normal desert you’ve made with him in its entirety.

(Ah, it's been a while since I did Eldritch AU. Time to feed all of you.)

Trey didn’t know what he did to catch your attention.

At the start, Trey didn’t think of you as anything remarkable, as expected when attending a college full of magic. If anything, he felt as though you needed a helping hand to get by. This place was always a harsh one to experience, and for someone that has been deemed not fit to be in any dorm, you’d face an even harder trial.

He will admit that he never intended to be anyone close to you. By the time an opportunity came up to talk, you had already attracted quite the number of troublemakers at your side. In that moment, Trey was worried that you were somehow made their lackey, but looking at your interactions, it was made clear to that you weren’t an odd person out. You fit right in with Ace, Deuce and Grim, as though it was always meant to be that way.

In fact, you fit in so well that Trey would often forget that you’re there. Well, no that’s not quite it. Trey knows you’re there, but his expectation are that you won’t come into any conversation with a bold introduction. To Trey, you seemed more content to observe while there was chaos chasing after Ace and Deuce. It was almost adorable, in a way.

But even so, Trey still didn’t intend to be your friend. He won’t be rude, or bring trouble. He won’t think of the times he found you speaking to yourself. He won’t question the substances upon your shirt.

He won’t even ask you where the missing Heartslabyul students went. After all, it was Trey’s own fault for avoiding them when they started to change.

You have your business, and he has his. And yet, when you invited him over to help you bake, Trey couldn’t refuse. He can’t. An invitation as bold as this, rejecting would probably lead to him going missing. Or changed.

Trey can feel your eyes trace up the side of his jaw, keeping a careful gaze upon his mouth as he continued to chew through this rancid mess upon his tongue. He knows he can’t spit it out. You weren’t glaring at him but that smile you had promised him that he would be punished if he so much as retches.

Trey pretends that his tears were ones of joy as he swallows the crunchy, greasy, rotting mess down his throat. Something caught onto the back of his tongue, and Trey hates that he was reminded of twitching bug legs.

You leaned forward, face just the slightest bit more open, waiting for something interesting, an excuse. “Well? How was it? I admit, baking was never my strong suit.”

He wanted to put the spoon down, make an excuse and go elsewhere. He wanted to have the courage to look you in the eye and ask if you hated him. But instead, he smiled, scooped up another spoonful and stuffed it in his mouth just so he didn’t have to speak.

However, Trey didn’t have a choice. The dollop on his tongue changed in texture and became something slimy, fleshy, and alive. He bit into it but it was the same sensation as biting into one’s own cheek. It slid to the back of his mouth, grabbed his tongue, and forced him to speak.

“It’s terrible.”

His stomach, already a churning mess, turned cold and solid. He dropped the spoon with a clatter, stuffed his fingers in his mouth and ripped whatever came alive out onto the table. Trey’s hands slammed down as he forced himself up, but he managed to keep himself from running to the nearest trashcan.

He can’t turn his back to you. He just can’t. Because of that, Trey did his best to calm his gags.

You, however, simply kept watching his crumbling self with a deeply satisfied smile.

“I’m glad to see you’re finally speaking your mind, even if I had to force it a bit.”

[cloudythoughtss]

Sweet Like Candy

Cassie has a thing for her best friend.

Pairings: Cassie x Reader

Warnings: sexual content, fem x fem, language.

You looked in the mirror at the dress you currently had on, you were shopping with Cassie for the winter dance that was coming up.

Cassie was already admiring you in the dress, shamelessly looking up and down through the mirror. “What do you think cass” you asked and turned around looking at her, “you look hot” she smiled big and glanced back up at you.

A little blush crept onto your face but you thanked her, there was always a flirty banter between you two but nothing ever developed from it.

She stood up and you watched her through the mirror, she walked over and stood behind you wrapping her slim hands around your waist and stared at you through the mirror. Your stomach filled with butterflies and your mind went blank. “I have an idea, be quiet” she mumbled in your ear and turned you around gently, she kneeled down right in front of the slit that was in your dress and started kissing the exposed skin looking up at you for permission.

Your mouth had gaped open slightly but you nodded quietly as you watched her not knowing what she was doing. She closed her eyes as she kissed your thigh and kept going higher and higher which made her slide your dress over slightly, her mouth pressed kisses over your clothed cunt which caused you to bite your lip tightly. She opened her eyes again and stared up at you with dark pupils, her fingers teasing the waistband of your panties, “can I make you feel good?” She asked with a dark whisper and you nodded sheepishly. “I need to hear yes or no” she stated with a pinch on your thigh causing you to whimper “yes-yes you can” you stammered embarrassingly.

Her fingers pulled down your panties and she teases your inner thighs with kisses, her hands moved to grip the back of your thighs for stability before she flattens her tongue against your whole cunt. You almost moaned too loud and she pinched your thigh harshly, you flustered brightly and apologized quietly putting your mouth against your arm to quiet yourself. She spit on your cunt and curled her tongue against your clit several times making you see stars before she sucked on your cunt harshly.

Your legs started shaking violently and you whimpered into your arm. She smirked and stopped for a minute making you confused before she stood up and moved you so that you were sat on the table in the changing room. She was quick to kneel before you again and started again with her assault, your hand gripped her hair tightly as you watched her. She curls 2 fingers inside you and rubs against the spongy spot while her lips suck tightly on your clit and you could have sworn you almost blacked out.

Sweat started forming on your back and you had to bite your arm so hard that it looked like someone had left hickeys on it. Cassie smiled as she watched you crumbled underneath her, she thought about this at every sleepover you had and even dreamt about it. Your thighs had clenched tightly around her head and you knew that you were close, she curled her fingers even harder and that caused you to cum all over her face and fingers and your thighs. She smirked and pulled away, she licked your thighs clean before she looked at your bright red face and sucked her fingers dry. Your mind had went blank and your breathing was shallow, “you taste better than I thought you did” she whispers before she kisses you deeply with your taste fresh on her and you smiled into the kiss.

She helped you regain your composure and the two of you walked out of the mall with two new dresses and a hunger for each other, you knew that this would be a long night at her house.

[diskaywrites]

WHUMPTOBER 2024

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 #𝟐: 𝐀𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐘𝐮𝐭𝐚 𝐱 𝐊𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 (𝐨𝐜) 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐎𝐟: 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐚𝐭 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐛, 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞: 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧

.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽..✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽..✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽..✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽..✽✦✽.◦.✽

Kelani Johnson guessed it was possible to be depressed while eating a Dole Whip at Magic Kingdom, she had just yet to experience it.

Everything in the landscape of AEW seemed to be changing so quickly since All Out and no one had felt its shift more than Wheeler Yuta. Kelani couldn't fathom how he felt, watching as the family he had built with the Blackpool Combat Club crumbled in front of his very eyes while he had been helpless to stop it. Had she had a bit of cruelty in her heart or the ability to hold a grudge, Kelani would have pointed out that it was possibly karma coming to collect its due. After all, hadn't Wheeler once caused that sadness when he broke way from a different family he had been welcomed into?

But that wasn't who Kelani was.

Instead, when Wheeler had come to her as a broken man, Kelani had welcomed her friend back with open arms. The sadness in his eyes had been enough for Kelani to embrace her old friend, even if he hadn't hugged back. All that mattered was that Wheeler knew he was loved and that if he needed a shoulder to cry on, she'd be there for him. It was Wheeler who had asked about her favorite place in the world, asked if they could attend the Halloween festivities, and Kelani would never deny someone in need.

Especially not if it involved her happy place.

The duo were tucked away by Aloha Isle, the facade of the building looking like a traditional Hawaiian building with its straw thatched roof and wooden frame. Next to them was the spinning carpets, the guests who were prayed by the golden spitting camel beside it squealing as they passed on their way to different rides. The smells of a jungle cruise were mixed with the spices of an Agrabah bazaar. It was chaotic, but less so than Fantasyland or Main Street.

"You're right," Wheeler gave a chuckle as he sat next to her on the bench, "this is delicious."

In his hand was a Pineapple Float, the tangy taste of pineapple juice made just a little moreso by the cooling pineapple ice cream. He brought the spoon to his lips, the smile on his face not quite reaching his eyes.

"My favorite way to try to cheer myself up," Kelani beamed, sipping from the green paper straw in her own cup of the dessert, "came here when..."

She stopped herself, not wanting to bring up something that would remind her friend of what he was going through. Kelani remembered sitting on this very bench, alone and wondering how she would keep the little group of best friends together after they had been abandoned by the man who sat next to her.

In the long run, the answer had been that she hadn't.

Wheeler sat the cup next to him, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. Had he not been wearing the classic Mickey eared hat, it would have looked at home in a hospital or funeral parlor. Kelani supposed that was fitting, seeing what had happened to Danielson with that plastic bag. "Does it ever go away? This feeling like the world is gonna crash in around you?"

Kelani put a hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles against the Aladdin spirit jersey he wore, "Do you want the truth or..."

"The truth," Wheeler sighed, "Bryan would want me to hear the truth."

"No," Kelani admitted, black curls bouncing as she did so, "I still find myself thinking about how together we all were, about losing all of it. But...each day you get up, it hurts a little less until it only crosses your mind from time to time. You move on, but it never stops hurting."

Wheeler sat up, drawing in an almost meditative breath, "I'm sorry, ya know, for..."

"It's okay," Kelani waved off as she used the plastic spoon in her hand to take a bite of her pineapple ice cream, "I'm sorry I brought it up."

Wheeler took a look around the small section of the park they sat in together, giving a small chuckle, "There are worse places to be depressed. Now c'mon, I wanna be depressed on Pirates of the Carribean."

[madaboutmunson]

I kill the lights, now, baby, watch me explode

I Think I Could Have Been Someone - Chapter 8

Ao3 Link

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Link to fic overview and all parts

Chapter Summary: Steve makes a nightcap get way out of hand

Author Notes: This is a mature story, definitely 18+ only.

Tags/Warnings: rockstar!AU; band; touring; music industry; alternate universe; drug usage; alcohol abuse; performing; enemies to lovers; road trip; stobin; platonic stobin; platonic with a capital P; canon typical violence; angst; masochism; fist fight

Word Count: 4.2K

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I Think I Could Have Been Someone - Part 8 - Steve POV 

Steve blinks back at him, mouth partially agape. His world's walls slowly crumble and ooze away as he asks, "What do you mean, you just wait for the marks to be hit?"

"This is off a fucking list. I used to do this shot all the time. I've done it for countless artists." Eddie bites back.

Steve shakes his head. No, there must be some mistake. Eddie had captured him. The real him.

"Don't believe me?" He grabs Steve by the arm and yanks him over to the laptop, roughly shoves him into the chair in front of it, as he types ‘barrier’ into the search bar. As the results hits fill the screen, Steve's heart empties, "Open one. Anyone you like." Eddie taunts him.

Steve swallows hard and gingerly opens a file. The air is taken out of him. It's almost identical, except the people are different. Forever greedy for hurt, Steve starts opening the others, and with each one, a new droplet threatens to form on his lash line.

"It was just chance! You ruined my life for something I could have explained in a matter of seconds!" Eddie yells, and all Steve can do is look at him and blink a tear from his eye.

"Just chance," Steve repeats, eyes locked on Eddie but not looking at him, through him. He'd been so wrong.

The rattling of the door gets louder.

"Do you have any idea what you did when you put up that fucking post?" Eddie paces, shouting at the top of his lungs, but Steve cannot respond. He feels numb. The one thing he'd been clinging to all this time wasn't real, either. His head swims with nothingness. All he can do is look and listen. Eddie squats down so his face is level with Steve's, "Let me fucking enlighten you, asshole!" He spits through gritted teeth, "First of all, I was harassed relentlessly personally, publically and online, as were the people around me. Then, because of that backlash, people didn't wanna work with me anymore. Then, of course, my savings are dwindling as I'm trying to keep a non-existent business afloat. Now I'm losing money, now I'm in debt, ok, and for you and your little horde of fucking fanatics, it's still not enough. I couldn't market my business without getting snide comments or being reported, so I'm working off networking and word of mouth. Which, as you can appreciate, is tiring and soul-grating. And then you all finally win. I'm at my lowest. Money was helping me achieve my dreams. You took it. Photography was my passion. You took it. My Happiness you stole. My love, you stole him too. And for what, Steve? For fucking what? A fucking ridiculous picture. I saw nothing in. It was a checked box. That's all." Eddie's chest is heaving, spittle flies out his mouth in a rage, and all Steve can do is watch as his insides fall apart, piece by piece. Eddie stands up to walk away.

Something in the abyss of Steve stirs. It glows a firey red, orange, yellow in the dark until it's white-hot and rapidly expanding.

Steve springs out of his chair, grabbing Eddie by the collar and sending the desk contents clattering to the ground as he sends them both reeling towards the wall until Eddie's head bashes against it.

"Where do you get off speaking to me like that, fucker?" Steve quietly seethes through his clenched teeth, "Do you know who I fucking am?" He picks Eddie easily off the wall and roughly shoves him back into it, making him yelp, "Got nothing to say now, huh, tough guy?" Steve twists the collar of Eddie's shirt and tightens it around his neck, "Is that why you agreed? To make a fool of me?" Eddie's face starts to redden, and his eyes begin to tear up. "Here is what you don't understand. You jumped up, little prick. I fucking own you. You do what I want. What I fuckin' say! Understand?" Steve sneers, as he listens to Eddie make a choked noise before releasing him. As Eddie slides to the carpeted floor, he crouches down to meet him, looks directly into his glassy, deep brown eyes and whispers, "My money will always be louder than any tantrum you could dish out. People are outside that door right now, biting at the bit to use their training on someone. So I suggest, unless you want that someone to be you, you shut the fuck up and be a good little photographer and take some goddamn pictures."

Eddie gets to his feet, and Steve mirrors his movement and scowl, "I fucking knew it would be like this. You're just what I thought you were. A walking stereotype. You're a piece of shit."

"Me? No, man. That's you all day!" Steve laughs, "Stereotype, maybe, but you are the only piece of shit here. I told you what that picture meant to me, and you fucking ate all that praise up on the plane, but once something didn't go your way, you lashed out. Have you ever thought that the reason you lost so much wasn't because of me but because of how you reacted to it? Maybe you would have thrived on the attention if you manned up."

"Oh fuck you! We aren't all attention sluts like you, ok? Some of us have creativity in our bones and a passion for what we do that isn't based on how big our house is."

"Do not ever presume that I don't have passion for what I do. I have plenty. I don't throw in the towel like some people."

"You can't even play an F major chord properly. You play the cheat version!"

"What are you even talking about? This is ridiculous!" Steve throws his hands in the air with a sarcastic laugh.

"No, buddy! What is ridiculous is that I'm still standing in this room with you. I don't need this shit. This project is over. Stick your money up your fucking ass!" Eddie seethes and walks over to his stuff to pack it away.

"You know what. Fine! Now I know you don't have the talent to capture what I thought you had. I could hire anyone to do your job!"

"Back to talent again. Do you think any of your peers like your stuff? Or do you just have a rabid set of fans you cultivated because of your appearance? And as you bury yourself in the ground line by line, gram by gram, they clamour for you more, but one day Harrington, they aren't gonna give a shit because the next new thing will be out, and you will be forgotten. As you should be!"

"You know what? If this is how you prey on people’s insecurities when you don't get your way, I can see why he left you."

"Say that again!" Eddie threatens, pointing viciously at Steve.

"What are you gonna do about it if I do? Hit me? You don't have the balls!"

"Oh no?" Eddie’s eyes widen, leaning toward Steve.

"Absolutely fucking not. You've got coward written all over you. It oozes out of you. You wouldn't dare. Go on, take a free shot."

“Mr H! Can you let us in, please? We’ll remove him from the premises.” Robin yells from the other side of the door, rattling it. He can hear her vain attempt at keeping her voice level and calm.

Eddie laughs, “That’s right, big man Harrington is gonna start a fight for his minions to finish,” he rolls his eyes, “I’ll just leave to prevent further injury from your fucking estate.”

“We’re fine, Buckley!” he turns back to Eddie, “I’m serious, go ahead, hit me. Put those years of pent-up frustration into a fist and send it my way.”

“What, and get sued for destroying your moneymaker face? I’m not that stupid, thanks”.

Steve just stares back and almost smirks.

"Do not try me!" Eddie threatens, the intense anger emanating from him. Steve can feel Eddie is right on the edge of doing something stupid, and Steve wants him to. He wants Eddie to hurt as bad as he does. He wants to make him feel so small and powerless that all he has left is violence.

Steve lifts the metaphorical hammer high to drive the final nails in the coffin of this partnership. He knows Eddie’s buttons and will keep pushing until he breaks him. "Your partner left you because you were an asshole to them, not because of me! Because you are a weak and selfish man. Because when the going got tough, you let the fallout hit everyone, didn’t you? Your precious boyfriend had no choice but to leave you, Munson. Otherwise, they would have got dragged under with you!"

Eddie launches himself at Steve, sending them crashing into another wall. His eyes ablaze, searing into Steve’s as he slams him against the wall, “Do, fucking, not ever speak about him. You hear me? You fucking junkie!” Eddie seethes through a face twisted with pure fury before Steve feels Eddie’s entire weight pressing on him now. A sliver of panic pierces him, concerned about what this man could do, how angry he was. Right now, it wasn’t as if Steve wouldn’t welcome the respite from betrayal and disappointment that a violent death might offer, but did this guy deserve to be the one to do time for it after everything? A tensed hand finds Steve’s throat. Eddie was not playing around anymore. He was livid, “A dumpster fire of a creature like you doesn’t get to comment on my relationships. Not after you openly cheat on your doting wife, and then the people you cheat on her with you want to be cuckolded by. What is wrong with you? You have everything. Four platinum albums, homes worldwide, money, awards, and accolades. Half of what you fucking have could change the life of a small town, and yet you squander it on your wares and wants and the chemicals propping up your zombie-like form. You’re disgusting to me. Vile, scum of the earth.”

Steve starts laughing under Eddie's grip. A few gentle laughs at first, but they get louder. Eddie looks at him in disgust, shoves him,  and walks away. His body is still tense and angry, but the absurdity is enough to make him back off. But Steve isn’t doing himself any favours by continuing, but he can’t stop. He’s realised something.

Steve shakes his head and catches his breath, “You tragic, pathetic little man, Munson. I just realised why you’re so pissed at me. Why didn’t you just dislike me and become indifferent over time.” Eddie's glare snaps towards him, his form slightly hunched in anger. Steve stands tall, rests a hand on his belt buckle, and drops his head to the side with a cocksure smile, “You were a fan.” He enunciates every word clearly, and each one takes Eddie down a peg or two, “Oh, isn’t this just the tastiest morsel of this whole thing.” Steve claps his hands together, “Bet your ex looked like me too, huh?”

“Keep him out of your cesspool mouth, Harrington, or I swear I’ll do it for you!”

“And now the guy at the hotel makes sense.” Steve laughs, overjoyed he's finally put the pieces together and is making Eddie miserable about it.

“ Guy at the- You’ve been spying on me? Is that why your cronies were there? Oh my god, please don’t tell me that is why he was suddenly working on your plane! You absolute psychopath!” Eddie says, folding his arms across himself in disbelief.

Steve ignores the questions, “And you think my wife dotes on me? Oh my god, hilarious, and Heidi? Please. You know why they’re there, and it has fuck all to do with me.” Steve laughs again.

Then Eddie pauses like pieces are forming together in his mind, like he realises how he’s been duped too, but unfortunately for Steve, that isn’t what Eddie is deducing at all.

He looks him straight in the eyes, a flicker of a smirk, “You wanted me! Didn’t you? How you stopped in the doorway, how you used Heidi as bait. Then you asked me outright if I was gay, and all your little minions laughed, but you genuinely wanted my answer, didn't you?” 

Steve’s inside freeze, but he has to keep up appearances here. This guy could ruin him, “Please! That’s the most ridiculous thing I ever heard. Get over yourself!”

Eddie’s smile widens, and his eyes scan over Steve. He folds his arms,” I bet you do that a lot, don’t you? Lure unsuspecting men into your bed. So you can watch them go at it with someone else, wishing it was you, don't you?” 

“You need to watch your fucking mouth.” Steve growls and points at him.

“Oh, it does have feelings.” Eddie mocks, “Here’s the thing. See,  I don’t need to say anything at all. This whole thing is being recorded. It’s making its way up into The Cloud right now. Forgot about that, didn’t ya?” Eddie beams a toothy, self-assured grin back at him.

Steve does not know how to deal with this guy. Could he offer him more money to keep quiet? Though nothing was confirmed, Steve knew the conversation had already implied enough. He could blackmail him until the end of time with this. Every fibre of his being hates this situation, stuck under someone else's will again and over something so natural, but Eddie doesn’t realise the problem he’d be creating if he did leak this. A scandal was one thing, but Steve needed his career, which would always be his Achilles' heel. Eddie sought revenge, and he wasn’t going to get it without ruining Steve, and Steve could not let that happen. He needed to keep this together.

For a moment, he looks directly at Eddie in defeat. He thinks about asking him what he wants for the recording? What’s it going to take to delete it? But Eddie looks smug, and Steve can’t stand it. In Eddie's face, he sees the rest of those bastards around their boardroom table, he sees the face of his father and last of all, he sees himself, and that is all it takes for Steve to charge at him, rear back his fist and send it crashing into Eddie’s jaw. Steve expects him to go down like a sack of potatoes, but he seems to just absorb it with a grunt and a turn of his head. Now, Steve starts to panic. He hadn’t thought any of this through past this point, but now he knows what must happen. As it stands, Eddie has rumour mill dirt on him, and Steve just assaulted him. He needs Eddie to retaliate. This has to look like a two-way thing to save Steve from losing the most essential thing in his life.

Eddie rubs over where the blow landed and sets his jaw, “I think we’re done here.” He goes to pick up his belongings, but Steve cannot allow this. He reaches over when Eddie's back is turned, drags him back by the hair and spins him around to land a jab to his guts. And this time, he keels over and down he goes, to his knees, gasping for air.

The door rattles again, and Steve turns toward it, yelling, “Do not come in here. That is a fucking order, Buckley! Do your job and fucking listen! Anyone that comes in here is gonna get fucking fired!” As Steve turns back to goad Eddie further, he feels a kick to the back of his knees, collapsing his legs underneath him, and a bony set of knuckles slam into his lower back just before he crumples to the floor, with a hiss from between his teeth, as he reaches for the site of pain. As his back arches backwards in response, he feels himself being dragged up to his feet, his eyes still clenched shut. An almighty whack meets his face, and he’s sent reeling right back to the floor. A boot on his chest pushes him onto his back, and he slowly and cautiously opens his eyes to look up at the man standing over him but immediately has to shut one due to the sharp sting of pain.

He can roughly make out Eddie standing over him, panting so hard his shoulders and chest visibly rise and fall. He’s just staring, maybe shaking. Steve makes a move to sit up, and a sense of relief appears on Eddie’s face for a second, “We’re done here. Stay down!”

Steve knows he should stay down, and this will be over. They both have their own leverage now. They’ve both channelled their anger, but something curious is stirring inside him. His body aches, his head feels fuzzy, and his skin feels alive. He feels high, and he’s not ready for this to be over. He can’t ask. That might come across as pity-inducing, and he’s not after Eddie’s mercy, far from it.

So he uses the couch to drag himself up to sitting first. 

“Are you an idiot? I said stay down.” Eddie sounds more annoyed and regretful than angry, and Steve can feel what he craves slipping out of his fingers. He quickly pushes himself up, and the room spins, but he’s standing. With a grunt of effort, he shoves Eddie whilst trying to find a centre of balance, “Look, that’s enough. I’m gonna go and let Buckley in, ok? I shouldn’t have done that.”

Steve doesn’t reply, scowls and shoves again, with both hands this time, making Eddie stumble backwards. “Hey, I said enough!” Eddie snaps at him, and Steve can taste the hint of anger in it. Eddie doesn’t like being pushed around. He grabs Eddie’s T-shirt material and gathers it in his fists, one of which is starting to throb from where he’d hit him. He yanks Eddie towards his face, their noses almost touching, and Steve watches his eyes widen with fear until Steve shoves him back with all his might, sending him crashing back into the desk that Eddie just gets a hand to to prevent him from falling to the floor. His eyes are still wide, looking at Steve like he’s insane, and maybe he’s right. He feels insane. But Eddie isn’t retaliating.

Frustrated, Steve begins to stalk, paces towards him, squares his shoulders, grabs hold of Eddie’s jaw, and turns it left to right to see the red bloom of a bruise in the making. Eddie stays still, eyes wide, his mouth partially open to breathe shallow breaths.

“Harrington, what are you doing?” Eddie says as if he’s trying to get through to Steve. He looks confused and tries to wriggle away, but Steve has him in too tight a grip. Steve decides Eddie isn’t going anywhere, and that is precisely what will happen. He feels Eddie make jerky, uncertain movements to push him away, like he’s trying to find the magic combination that will get Steve to let him go without enacting any more violence. But Steve has the leverage and uses it to his advantage, looming over him, squeezing his jaw tighter. Eddie's teeth grit as he kicks and pushes back, but Steve does not relent. These little pushes and squirms weren't what he wanted from Eddie, “You’re crazy, Harrington. Let me go,” Eddie hisses through his teeth, and Steve almost laughs as he can feel him trying to knee him between the legs, but Steve just presses himself closer, forcing Eddie awkwardly backwards, with no room to flail anymore, but he’s still not fighting back enough. Steve’s hand slips down to his throat, and he squeezes. Eddie’s eyes flash with panic, and he grasps onto Steve’s offending forearm and croaks out a pitiful “Stop.”

Steve lets his eyes trail over Eddie’s features  as he shakes his head gently and tightens his grip, “No.” He says softly and squeezes again, watching the redness and panic fill Eddie’s face as his fingernails dig into Steve’s arm, sending shivers up and down his spine.

Then, in desperation, Eddie launches forward, making a choked-out noise in the process, as hurtling forward presses his throat further into his grip. Something hits the back of Steve’s legs and sends him reeling back towards the carpet again. He lands with a hard bump to the back of his head, Eddie’s neck still firmly in hand. But soon, his grip is relinquished as Eddie wails blow after blow on his arm until Steve feels a euphoric numbness spread throughout it. He looks up at Eddie, there is no pity or panic in his eyes now, only survival, and Steve is the only obstacle in his way. 

Even when Eddie is free from his grip, he doesn’t stop his physical onslaught. Eddie pins his forearms down by his sides with his knees, pushing his weight onto them, and Steve wonders if one might snap. Licks his lips at the thought of the potential exquisite pain, but before he can dwell for too long, a succession of well-placed jabs begin to litter his torso. Each one is the same cycle: instant pain, a blast of euphoria and the warm hum of blood rushing to the site before it flows much more hurriedly south, sending his head into a dizzying spin. Eddie’s eyes ablaze with anger almost thrill him more, but he can feel Eddie slowing either from effort or realisation, but Steve isn’t ready for this to be over. He needs his hands on him.

Quick as a flash, Steve bends his legs towards his chest, using them to grip hold of Eddie’s torso, and with searing pain, he uses all his strength to flip them over. Eddie flails wildly, trying to keep Steve’s brutal swings at bay. Some land, some don’t, but it was immaterial at this point. All that mattered was  Eddie was touching him, and if this violence was the only way he could have it, then so be it. He’d hurt him, some part of him hated him for being so cruel, but another part of him still wanted him. Needed him.

The flip-over happens again. Eddie, gripping his shirt at its shoulders to pin him down, looms over him, reddened, swelling starting to appear on the face that his wild hair was trying to hide. Steve braces himself for another glorious torrent of Eddie’s rage, but Eddie is just looking at him. His breath is shuddering, “Enough.” He pants.

Steve turns his head to the side, exposing his neck, like an act of submission, looks Eddie directly in the eye, and proceeds to bite down on his wrist. A hard slap meets the side of his face with a heated sting, followed by a hissed, “You’re insane.” 

Eddie’s hands retract as he inspects the damage, and Steve doesn’t miss the opportunity to have Eddie flat on his back again. Something unexpected happens as Steve rears his fist back to send reeling towards Eddie’s body. Eddie grabs hold of his shirt and pulls him right down with him. A creative act of self-defence, Steve thinks, as he’s being crushed in some sort of bear hug submission hold. He realises this might be the end of his fun, but then a new problem becomes apparent, something that hadn’t been a problem for almost a year now, and it might be that which loosens Eddie’s grip. As his body had been flush against Eddie, so had his growing arousal. He laughs with relief that everything still might be in working order. He thought it had been done for.

He pushes himself up a little, and now the grip is loosened. Face to face, noses centimetres apart, Steve waits for inevitable looks of pure repulsion or to be shoved away, but Eddie’s eyes will not meet his, and he’s swallowing hard. He’d got so caught up in this feeling he hadn’t realised maybe Eddie was freezing, newly afraid of something much worse that Steve might be capable of doing in this state, and that was enough to take the wind out of his sails, and he tries to get up, to give Eddie room.

As he pushes up, there is resistance. Eddie’s arms are no longer tightened around his torso, but his strong hands are splayed out on his back, keeping him in place. Steve looks back at him, and this time, their eyes meet, and both struggle to catch their breath. Steve watches as Eddie’s tongue glances over his swollen bottom lip. They must stay like that for a few seconds in the quiet, Steve busy searching Eddie’s eyes for what to do next. Unsure, he tries to push back again, but Eddie’s hands pull him back down, closer this time. Eddie’s every breath is moisture against the corner of Steve's lips.

“What do you want from me?” Steve mutters, desperately trying to tear his gaze from Eddie's mouth to look into his eyes.

“Nothing. I hate you,” Eddie replies breathily in the least believable way possible, almost like he is trying to convince himself it is true.

“Then let me go,” Steve mutters, his nose and lips brushing featherlike against Eddie’s cheek as he speaks. His prize is a shuddering breath and a growing pressure against his thigh.

“No,” Eddie says firmly, in a low register rasp that almost makes Steve’s thighs quake as it vibrates through him.

“What do you want from me?” Steve repeats the question into Eddie’s ear in a whisper.

Eddie's hands lower to the back pockets of his jeans and grip on firmly, “Only everything,” he replies.

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Songs that inspired this chapter:

Frantic - Metallica Heart Attack America - The Bronx

[littlewalken]

“Revelation At Sunrise” 

(a new ending to the s3 e20 episode "Talisman" so it helps if you've seen the episode or at least know what it's about, not in its original format but whatcha gonna do)

Lionel Luthor fell to his knees in the cold darkness of pre dawn as Jeremiah Holeslaw pushed him forward to the patch of Kowatche ground he had chosen to kill the man he thought was Zigith the enemy of his people. If only I had known the Star Blade was inside that clay vessel, Lionel thought, then I would have the power of ten men and not this cursed brat!

"Here!" Jeremiah pushed Lionel down to the ground. "I will make an example of you to all people!" Lionel looked up to see he was at the base of a sort of scarecrow pole with a heavy cross beam, in fact there were two poles here.

"You will hang here next to the false prophet!" Jeremiah proclaimed. 

"What false prophet?" Lionel asked as Jeremiah lifted him by the collar with one hand. "The false Numan!" Jeremiah said. "The one who thinks he is as strong as me but I felled him with one stab of my blade!" He slammed Lionel’s back to the pole with enough force to knock the wind out of him.

As he gathered his breath Lionel found his arms lobbed over the cross beamed and tied tightly to it. 

"First to make it known to the spirits that we will at last be free of the terror if Zigith!" Jeremiah said. He ripped open Lionel's shirt and held the Star Blade over his heart. Reciting ancient chants Jeremiah carved a symbol onto Lionel's chest with the razor sharp blade. Lionel didn't cry out or show any outward sign of weakness but the pain cut deep into his soul.

"You are mighty Zigith, but I, Numan, am mightier!" Jeremiah said. "You must be made to suffer as my people have suffered!" 

Lionel pulled at his binds, he felt no chance of slipping free. "If Luthor Corp had not taken over the conservatorship of the caves they might have been destroyed," he said. The wound on his chest was steadily seeping blood.

Jeremiah stood in front of Lionel holding a rusted coil of barb wire. He began to unroll it, wrapping the wire around Lionel's neck. 

"Please, we can talk about your concerns," Lionel said as barbs began to prick into his skin." Don't let Lex find me like this, he thought.

The wire snaked across Lionel's face, biting into his skin, pulling at his hair. The slightest movement only brought worse pain. Yet Lionel Luthor didn't cry out or exhibit any sign of weakness. Lex had told him some kids had done this to Clark Kent once and if the boy could survive so could he.

"And now for the false prophet!" Jeremiah said, having nearly mummified Lionel in the piercing wire. Jeremiah held the Star lade up as if he was going to plunge it into Lionel's heart but something blind sided him and sent him crashing into trees out of Lionel's view. 

Who was this false Numan he spoke of? Was there someone else with the same powers who had already been here in Smallville?

Lionel tried to turn his head to see what was happening but one of the rusted barbs caught into the corner of his mouth and cut in to his gum. He could hear trees ripping, rocks crumbling, the sounds of a great battle and he had no way of watching. But who the other participant was wouldn't be a mystery for long.

Jeremiah dragged Clark Kent to the scarecrow poles as if he were a rag doll. As the farm boy stirred Jeremiah clubbed him on the head with the hilt of the Star Blade. Lionel couldn't speak, his mouth was caught and cut, drooling blood and spit. Clark made a strange mewing noise as Jeremiah strung him up on the pole. 

"You will pay too, false Numan! For you admitted it!" He proclaimed.

When Clark's arms were tied to the cross bar Jeremiah ripped his shirt open and methodically scratched the same symbol on Clark's chest he had scratched onto Lionel's. Clark whimpered from the pain. Jeremiah left for a few moments and returned with more barb wire.

No, don't, Lionel wanted to say. Don't do this to Clark, he's innocent to this all. A barb grabbed at Clark's hand which was easily in Lionel's line of sight but it didn't pierce the flesh. The wound on his chest was dripping blood but the barbs did not pierce him. As the sun rose Jeremiah held the knife over his head. Without delay he plunged the Star Blade deep into Clark's chest. Both screamed, Jeremiah gasped as the last of his strength left him and Clark let out the blood curdling scream of a man feeling the worse pain in his life.

Jeremiah fell between the scarecrow poles. Clark gasped, blood bubbling from his lips. He looked at Lionel in a helpless daze as if realizing both were going to die. Clark tried to speak as the color drained slowly from his face. Lionel tried to return the words but he too could only speak with life's red flow.

"Lex." The word escaped slowly from Lionel's gaping mouth as he opened his eyes. Lex Luthor stood looking up at his father and Clark bound to the scarecrow poles. His face was emotionless, cold. He looked at the Star Blade, reached for it, rising up onto his toes. "Lex."

He looked up at his father. "Dad?" 

"Lex, help me."

"Dad, how?" Somehow Lex figured out how. He slowly unwrapped the barb wire from around his father, pricking himself a few times in the process, but at last Lionel was free from it. 

"What about Clark?" Lex asked when is father was able to speak clearly. 

"Don't touch the knife, if you pull it out he might bleed to death,” Lionel ordered. "Bleed to death? Clark is dead, look at him." Lex said. With one hand he untied the binds so he could catch his father with the other. Lionel stood on the ground for a moment then fell to his knees. Lex helped him lay down on his overcoat. 

"You need an ambulance, dad," Lex said. 

"No, no, get Clark down," Lionel ordered. "Answers, Lex. We can get the answers we seek."

As he carefully unwrapped the barb wire from around Clark, Lex noticed the knife was slowly beating as in time with his heart. 

"Clark," Lex said softly. "Hang on, Clark. You'll be okay." He carefully grabbed Clark around the shoulders, his body was still warm.

Except for the wounds of the Star Blade, Clark looked untouched. The only signs that the wire had been wrapped around him were slight red marks to his skin. 

"He's almost untouched, how can that be?" Lex looked at his father who in the same situation was left a bloody mess. 

"We can find out, together," Lionel said.

With a staggering gate Lionel had made it to his son's car. Lex dragged Clark with the aid of his father's coat. 

"He needs a hospital, you both do," Lex said. 

"If Clark Kent goes to a hospital you will never know how he saved your life," Lionel said. The pain of his wounds was almost too great. "Listen to me, Lex. Let's take him home. I will call our doctor if it will make you feel better."

Lex carefully lifted Clark into the car, the Star Blade keeping all but a slight trickle of blood at bay. The desire to know the truth was too great. 

"Hold on, Clark," Lex said. "Everything will be alright."

Clark lay on the bed looking serene in sleep or death. The doctor dabbed at Lionel with iodine and bandaged him where he could. Approaching Clark the doctor armed himself with bandages and sutures. Wearing latex gloves and wrapping some gauze around the handle, Lionel put his hands on the Star Blade hilt.

"Slow and steady," the doctor commanded. He piled gauze onto the wound. "It looks like the knife just missed his heart and slipped between the muscles. A little bloody but..." 

"Thank you, doctor," Lionel said as he placed the knife on a tray. "Keep the wound clean, change the bandages, let him rest. I know the routine.

"I would appreciate if you didn't tell anyone that you saw him here," Lionel continued. "As you can tell there is a mad man trying to kill our friend here and I have decided to put him under my protection." There really was no need to tell the doctor as he was a loyal Luthor employee anyway. 

"I will send you my bill, Mr Luthor," the doctor said. "And I would like to check up on the two of you in about three days unless either of you develop a fever."

"Don't worry, I will take care of everything, doctor," Lionel said. He placed his hand on Clark's forehead to check for fever. 

"Shouldn't we at least call his parents, tell them Clark is safe?" Lex asked. 

"In time," Lionel said. "We can't keep him here." "He isn't going anywhere, dad, he was nearly stabbed in the heart," Lex protested.

"Haven't you noticed that Clark is adept at making quick exits?" Lionel asked. "But there is something else I've noticed about him. All this talk about Numan coming to earth in a rain of fire." He looked at the case removed one of the wall safes where jewelry was kept. One of the rings had a stone of refined green meteor rock.

"I have a theory, about Clark at least," Lionel continued. He hardly got within five feet of Clark before the ring began to glow. "The meteor rock hexagonal shaped key reacted the same way when I showed it to Clark, before it mysteriously disappeared." 

He sat next to Clark and held the ring over him. Clark's face turned sour as if he was having a bad dream. Lionel put the ring on Clark's hand.

Clark's eyes shot open and he gasped. Lionel and Lex watched as the veins on Clark's hand turned green, it spread up his arm. 

"Take it off! It's hurting him!" Lex protested as Clark tried to claw the ring off. 

Lionel slid the ring off and Clark began to relax almost immediately. "But I was right!" He said. "And there's more, Lex.” Lionel put the ring back in the safe then took his son's hand. "Together, Lex. We will find out all of the mystery that is Clark Kent and the Luthor legacy will live forever."

Jonathan Kent watched Lex Luthor walk out of the Talon and wondered if he walked over and asked if he had seen Clark if he could keep his temper. It had been two days since he had seen his son. Jeremiah Holeslaw had been found at the base of two poles surrounded by barb wire and blood. If Clark had been there he wasn't there now and there was no sign of Lionel Luthor either. In the end it was Lex who came over to Jonathan.

"Mr Kent, have you seen Clark lately?" Lex asked with worry in his voice. 

"Not for a couple of days."

"My father was almost killed by Jeremiah Holeslaw," Lex quietly admitted. "He told me that Clark was at the scene but I don't know if he was delirious or not." "Clark was home," Jonathan lied. "He didn't go out until he went off to school."

"I just want you to know I am just as worried about Clark as you are," Lex said. "But if my father was the last person to see him alive who knows what might have happened to him?” As Lex left Martha Kent joined her husband. 

"What was that about?" "I don't know," Jonathan said. "I just don't know."

The air in the room was cool and he realized that although there was a quilt on the bed it had been folded down to his waist and his pajama top left open so the bandages on his chest could be easily attended to. Clark looked around the room, the walls and ceiling were painted a strange shade of green. He saw no windows or doors. He didn't try to sit up, his chest hurt too much to try. 

"Mom? Dad?" Clark called, remembering how his father had healed his previous wound from the Star Blade. 

A panel in the wall opened and Lionel Luthor stepped into the room. "Good morning, Clark," he said. "How are you feeling?" "My chest hurts."

"So does mine. Jeremiah Holeslaw attempted to kill us both." Lionel motioned to the barb wire wounds all over himself. 

"Where are my parents?" Clark asked. 

“Safe, at home," Lionel said. "Just as you are perfectly safe here until Jeremiah Holeslaw can be found." "I want to go home!" Clark protested, he sat up a bit in the bed. Lionel sat at the foot of it. "That isn't going to happen at the moment, Clark," he said icily. "Now lay down and rest. Are you hungry? Is there anything I can get you?" "I'm going home!" Clark insisted. He got to his feet and began to make his way to where he had seen the panel open. Clark fell to his knees as he felt as if his blood was on fire. The paint, it wasn't just green, it had little flecks of Kryptonite in it. Only the floor was unpainted.

Lionel knelt down to help Clark back to the bed. 

"We have much to talk about," Lionel said with a smile. "I've been ordered to a bit of bed rest myself, Clark, and it's given me time to think, about you, about Smallville. About the meteor rocks. What you know about the Kowatche caves.

“I know you know something about them, Clark." He pulled the green meteor rock ring out of his pocket. "I was going to give this to you as a thank you gift for saving Lex's life, but when he told me your parents made you return every gift he offered I thought they wouldn't be happy with this either so I decided to wait until you graduated high school.

"Then it happened again, Clark, except you saved my life this time," Lionel continued. "If you hadn't come when you did and distracted Jeremiah Holeslaw he might have stabbed me thru the heart. I never thought he'd do the same to you." He held the ring out to Clark. "Go ahead, take it.Let me know if it doesn't fit and I'll have it fixed," Lionel said. 

"No thank you, Mr Luthor," Clark said as he pulled the bed covers up to his chin. 

"It's not an emerald if that's what you're worried about," Lionel smiled. "It's a cut meteor rock. Unless you don't like meteor rocks."

Clark was sweating a bit now. "No thanks, Mr Luthor, I really can't except something like that," he said. Lionel put the ring on the night stand next to Clark. 

"Would you rather have a red one? I can have a red one made." "No, Mr Luthor."

"Enough games between us, Clark. I know some of your secrets now," Lionel said. "Just think about which ones." He went to the doorway and it opened for him. 

"Need I remind you he's just a kid and not a Luthor," Lex said when his father came into the room where they could watch Clark from.

"Remember that vial of blood that your ex wife Helen had?" Lionel asked. Lex felt no need to ask how his father knew about it. 

"I believe the only patient she kept under lock and key was Martha Kent," Lex said with a smile. 

"Come off it, Lex, we both know that blood wasn't human. Morgan Edge knew where it came from except he's dead."

"And you think I know where it came from?" Lex asked. "If I knew don't you think you'd aleady know by now, dad?" 

Lionel went out to the den, to the bookshelf safe where Lex kept things he thought no one else could find. Inside was a small vial of blood. 

"This is Clark's, isn't it?"

"I was waiting for this weekend so we could experiment on it together, dad," Lex said in mock disappointment. "Now you've gone and ruined the surprise." 

Lionel just smiled. "The blood sample has a specific reaction to meteor rocks,” he said, holding the vial over a piece of decor with a meteor rock in it. The blood began to boil. Lex looked at his father. Could they really have found common ground at last?

Lionel went to where he kept the Star Blade wrapped in suede. Not touching the blade with his skin he returned to Clark. 

"We deserve to know, Lex." His son followed.

"Lex," Clark was somewhat relieved to see his friend. "Can you take me home? My parents have got to be worried to death."

"Later, Clark," Lex said as he looked at the glowing ring. "But I have a question for you first. Remember the day we first met? The day at the bridge? I remember, I was flying over Smallville then the next thing I saw was you. Remember, Clark? 

“I remember everything about it. I swore I hit you as I went over the side of the bridge and you said I did." 

"You remember wrong, Lex," Clark said. “I said that if you had hit me I’d be dead.”

"I don't believe so," Lex said. "I kept that car, Clark. The roof was torn of of it. How do you think that happened?"

Clark looked at Lionel holding a suede wrapped item. Slowly he unwrapped it. "Perhaps we should talk about a more recent event," Lionel said. "The only people on earth with more interest in the Kowatche caves than you or I are Professor Willowbrook and Dr Waldon. One of them is dead but when he died he was clutching an octagonal disk in his hand.

“An octagonal disk the exact size and shape of an indention in a wall of the Kowatche caves, Clark, the octagonal disk that disappeared into the wall of the cave. Don't tell me that you don't know what I'm talking about." 

He was pointing the blade towards Clark. "The alloy this is made of is identical to the original octagonal disk although I don't think it could be used to stab you in the heart." "You're scaring him, dad.” Lex took Clark's hand in his. "Please, Clark, we all know you know something about the Kowatche caves. It could be the breakthrough we all need. What is it, Clark? What do you know?"

Clark lay there, surrounded by Kryptonite and the Luthors armed with the Star Blade. 

"I think I can read the pictographs," he admitted. Lex smiled with the warm and friendly glow he was capable of. Lionel's mind was working, thinking hard. For Clark it was an escape ploy. If he could read the pictographs they would have to take him there.

"Now," Lionel said as he put his hand on Lex's shoulder to signal it was time to leave. "Let's think about what else we know."

"That could be it," Lex said when they had left the room. "Let him go, we can have him translate the cave walls later." 

"No, that's not it!" Lionel growled. "The roof of your car! Mysterious fires! All the strange events he happen to be around! There is more to Clark Kent's secret then just being able to read the pictograms on the walls of the Kowatche caves!" Lionel was interrupted as the doors of the den were thrown open.

Jonathan Kent stood there with his shot gun, Martha was behind him. "Where is he, Luthor? Where is my son?"

"Jonathan, put the gun down," Lionel said as he gestured for his security team to back off. "Where's Clark?" Jonathan said as he held his shotgun at Lionel's face.

"Clark is safe and resting comfortably," Lex said. "When I found him my first thoughts were to protect him from Jeremiah..." 

"Jeremiah Holeslaw has been dead for days! Where is Clark?"

"Your son is fine." He had unwrapped the knife to show the Kents that he had it now. "So you too are familiar with the legend of Numan and Zigith," Lionel said as Jonathan put his gun down in defeat. "I have a theory, Mr Kent, a musing at most but I'm slowly collecting the proof I need about Numan. I think it's more than a legend, but at the moment we're all worried most about Clark," Lionel was relishing this bit of power. 

"Martha can see him, but I think we'll both agree he's far safer here. If the Kowatche people blame Clark for Jeremiah's death they might come looking for him." "It's okay, Jonathan," Martha said. "I'll see him, see that he's okay."

Lex led Martha to where Clark was. 

"Oh Clark!" She always had a way of making it sound more traumatic then it was. She looked at the scar on his chest, the bandaged wound. 

"Where's dad?" He asked, where was his father to heal him to help him escape? 

"Lionel is talking to him," Martha said. She looked at the green meteorite ring and the color of the walls.

"You'll be okay, baby," Martha said. She stroked Clark's hair. "It will all be okay." "No it won't," Clark protested. "I want to go home and I want to go home now!" 

Martha looked at Lex. He couldn’t answer.

"The room is painted with Kryptonite somehow. Even if he was well Clark couldn't just walk out of there!" Martha told Jonathan as they got into their truck. 

They didn't know Lionel had bugged it. 

"Kryptonite?" He turned to Lex to make sure his son had heard. 

"We'll think of something," Jonathan said. “Meanwhile, I have chores." "No, not Jor-El!” Martha said. Jonathan didn't answer.

"I have to know now, what is Kryptonite and who is Jor-El," Lionel said as he went to see Clark. 

"Wait, dad," Lex said. "We can figure this out on our own. If I know Clark like I do when he's confronted with the truth and he's going to lie about it he gets a certain look. If we flat out ask him about these things he'll just deny them."

"Yes, you're right. Kryptonite... It must be what the Kents call the meteor rocks. It might even be the proper name for it. But who is Jor-El?" "What if he is Clark's real father? When Clark disappeared over the summer where did he go?" 

"Metropolis, I learned that much from miss Chloe Sullivan." "So he might have been with his natural parents. See, dad, if we just put what we know together we might get the whole picture."

Lex went to see Clark first. 

"Why don't you let me go home, Lex? I thought you were my friend!" Clark lay on the bed as his chest still burnt with the pain of his wound. 

"I thought you were my friend too, Clark," Lex said. "I can handle Pete Ross being your best friend, your confiding in him. But from the day we met, Clark?” He touched Clark's hand. "I hit you on that bridge at sixty miles an hour. We both fell into that water yet you still had strength to tear the top off my car and pull me out. Just tell me the truth, Clark." "It was all my fault," Clark whispered. 

"The accident? No, the accident wasn't your fault."

“No!" Clark closed his eyes, slow tears were coming out. "All of it. But why do you have to know so bad, Lex?" "Because," Lex said. "It will help me get the one thing I thought I would never have. My father's love."

"A father's love isn't all it's cracked up to be some times."

"Is that what happened last summer, did you meet your parents?" 

Clark's silence told Lex more than an answer would. "Unless the Kents..." 

"The Kents are a Godsend," Clark said defensively.

"But the accident, on the day of the accident I told you I thought I hit you. Did I hit you, Clark?”

"Yes," Clark said as he looked at Lex. "You did." Lex let out the heaviest sigh in the world that he had been holding for years. "Oh Clark, why couldn't you have just told me? That day changed my life. I have treasured everyone since." Clark had curled into a ball on the bed, "What's going to happen to me?" 

"I don't know," Lex said as he looked up to one of the corners where he knew a camera was hidden. "I wish I did."

Lionel was waiting for Lex's exit, the suede wrapped Star Blade in his hand. Lex wanted to fall on his father's shoulder and hear words of comfort if not wisdom. 

"All his fault? What is all his fault?" Lionel asked. "Call Professor Willowbrook, find out if the word Kryptonite is Kowatche." "It isn't," Lex said. "Dr Waldon was a linguist. He had books on Kowatche." "Call him anyway."

Clark remained curled into the fetal position. Lionel picked up the meteor rock ring and put it in his pocket. 

"Kryptonite," Lionel said nonchalantly. "I never would have thought of calling the meteor rocks Kryptonite, I was hoping to name it Luthorite, Smallvillite maybe but I suppose I can get used to calling it Kryptonite." He put his hand on Clark's foot and squeezed hard. "Am I pronouncing that correctly? Kryptonite? We can go on like this as long as you like." Lionel said with a sigh. "How are you feeling?”

Clark was silent 

"I have something to discuss with you, Clark."

The gunshots woke Lex from the daze he had been in while watching from the control room. He had been back at the day he had been pulled from the river seeing more clearly than ever when he realized what had happened.

In the room Clark had clawed his way to the head of the bed forming himself into the tightest ball possible as Lionel emptied his hand gun. The bullets left gaping holes in the bed clothes but had bounced off of Clark. He screamed not in pain but in the soul deep terror that his worst of fears had come true.

Lionel saved the last bullet for pointing the gun at Clark's head. 

"Dad!" Lex ran into the room as Lionel fired. The bullet hit Clark in the temple but crumpled against his skin, rolling down his neck, bouncing off his shoulder and landing in his lap. His cheeks were stained red with tears.

"The strength of ten men," Lionel gasped. He looked at the Star Blade then at Clark again. "How is it that you are bullet proof yet this mere knife can pierce you to the bone?” Holding the knife handle wrapped in the suede he pointed the blade at Clark. 

"No, dad!” Lex said. He put his hands around Lionel's hands.

"Everything I have ever suspected you is true," Lionel smiled at Clark. "No wonder the Kents have been so overly protective over you. I could only imagine if my son was indestructible." 

Lex stood there watching silently as his father left. "Clark." Lex turned to his friend. Clark sat spiritually helpless on the bed. 

"I want to go home," he begged. "Please, Lex. I just want to go home." 

Lex sat on the bed and Clark fell on him in a heaving sob. 

"I forget you're only seventeen," Lex said. "I've forgotten what that feels like.”

Lex looked at the blur on the surveillance tape from the Metropolis museum on the night it was broken in to and someone tried to steal the ancient breast plate that had once belonged to Alexander the Great. He knew now deep in his heart of hearts that blur was Clark. 

If he could hit Clark and knock him off a bridge and his father could shoot him at point blank range certainly that blur could be Clark. 

"Lex?" His father came into the room. Had he been up all night? "It's time to take Clark home."

Lex looked at his father. "Why, dad? Why don't you just keep him here?"

"Because his wound is almost healed," Lionel said. "And we have the Star Blade and we know how to control him at least." He handed Lex a ring with a green stone. 

"Kryptonite," Lex smiled. "I believe this should be enough."

The Luthors went to the room where they kept Clark. He had dressed in his clothes, his jeans and torn shirts, no shoes. Lionel put a piece of Kryptonite in the pocket of Clark's plaid shirt. It took both Luthors to carry him past the painted walls and put him on a chair in the den.

"Now you will listen to me, Clark Kent," Lionel began as he stuck a metal poker in the fire and let it heat to red hot. "I have decided to allow you to go home, for now. I have no immediate need for you but I will have more questions." "I don't have any more answers, Mr Luthor, you know everything," Clark said weakly.

Lionel held the poker under Clark's chin, close enough to smell. 

"There will be more questions and more answers. And you will answer them or the Kowatche people won't be the only ones to believe you are Numan." 

Anything, anything to go home, Clark thought.

His feet sunk into the wet mud of the driveway as the sun peeked over the Kansas prairie. Clark walked slowly with the Kryptonite rock heavy in his pocket. The Luthors were long gone, for the morning. And if he didn't do as they said... If not him then his parents would feel their wrath. The latest cut from the Star Blade ran down his stomach, shallow and messy, it was the last proof needed.

With a thud he fell on the kitchen door knowing someone would soon be there. "Jonathan?" Martha called. She opened the door thinking he might have his arms full. Clark! She didn't say anything but fell on him protectively, pulling him into the safety of the house. Clark clawed at the pocket of his shirt.

Martha pulled out the Kryptonite rock and threw it as far as she could. Clark's shirt fell open revealing where Lionel had cut him. A rag to stop the bleeding, that was what she needed. He wasn't going anywhere. 

"They know, mom," Clark gasped. "The Luthors know."

Jonathan came in with his arms full of corn. It fell with a din as he knelt next to his son as Martha washed the wound area clean. He wasn't moving.

"Son," Jonathan begged as he cradled Clark's head in his lap. 

"They know, the Luthors know," Clark repeated softly. 

"What do the Luthors know?" Jonathan asked. Martha touched the bruise on Clark's temple from the bullet. Tears flowed from Jonathan's eyes and splashed on Clark's. 

"We have to... We.” He hugged Clark, holding him as tight as possible. "We have to protect him!" Jonathan sobbed. "I don't care what the Luthors know and don't know, we still have to protect him."

Clark was sullen as he walked down the halls of Smallville High looking as if the slightest thing might set him off. 

"Man oh man I hate to ask," Pete Ross said as he ran to catch up. 

"It's all over," Clark surprisingly told him. "The Luthors know. They know everything about me." "You mean Krypton and everything?" Pete asked quietly.

"I don't know what they know about Krypton but they’re pretty sure I'm Numan," Clark said in angered defeat. Pete signaled him Chloe was coming as they got closer to the Torch. "Ouch, what happened?" Chloe reached up and touched Clark where a red mark remained on his temple. 

"Just a farm accident," Clark said as he went off. 

"Go easy, he's still a little out of whack with it all," Pete said.

Clark passed Lana, he stopped. It was all his fault. The guilt from causing the meteor storm that killed her parents welled up in him. 

"Lana," he stopped her. "I want you to know." He was trying to find the words to finish. "It's all my fault," he finally said. 

"What's all your fault, Clark?" She asked, her dark eyes so loving and caring.

"All the pain in your life," he said. "It all would have been so much easier if we had never met." Clark turned down the hall and stormed away. 

"Clark!" She ran after him. "Clark Kent! If you have something to tell me you tell me now!" Lana pushed him into an empty classroom.

"Fine," Clark said half angrily. "I will answer one question." "One?" Lana said. "Alright. On the day of the tornado I thought I saw you flying towards me. I swear you were in the tornado with me." "I was," Clark said. He could only look at her for a moment before he left.

Lana ran out to the hall to call out to him but he was nowhere to be seen. She went to the Torch and Clark was there staring at the Wall of Weird. 

"How?" She asked. 

"I said one question," Clark said icily. 

"Is that how?" Lana pointed to the wall. "Did the meteor rocks affect you some how?"

"I have spent every minute of every day to be just like everyone else," he said, unable to stop his tears from falling now. "That's all I want to be, Lana. I just want to be like everyone else." She went to hug him but he pulled away, the second time he allowed her embrace.

"Oh, sorry." Chloe could have backed out silently but she still wanted Clark in her own way. He looked at her wondering if it was safe to tell her anything yet. Clark gave Lana a look of don't tell Chloe and hoped she understood.

Chloe stood there with her own secret wondering if she should tell. Lionel Luthor had been after her again, hounding her, dogging her for everything she had on Clark. Getting that he had been in Metropolis last summer, asking for her to look into anyone with the family name El no matter what the spelling. She knew she had to tell Clark.

"I suppose I owe you the same," Clark finally told Chloe. "If you could ask me one question, what would it be?"

She didn't even thing "Did you find your birth father last summer?" 

"Chloe!" Lana said. 

"In a way," Clark said as he sat down at a computer. 

"What kind of answer is 'in a way'?" Chloe asked.

"One question," Clark said angrily. 

“What’s wrong?" Lana asked, knowing she could risk an argument with him. "Just when I think I have you figured out.." 

"Because I don't know myself!" Clark spat. "And every time someone finds out they wind up getting hurt! So there is no me to figure out, alright?" He got up and stormed out of the Torch.

"What happened to him?" Chloe asked Pete. 

"Something deep," Pete said. "And I think this is just the beginning of it." 

Lana turned to look at the Wall of Weird. What did Clark mean that it was all his fault?

Outside school a limo was waiting. 

"Mr Kent!" Lionel Luthor waved with false sincerity. "I'm glad I caught up with you before you disappeared for the weekend." Get into the car, Clark read between the lines. 

"What do you want?" Clark growled. He was still outside of the car and could risk running off in front of his schoolmates.

"I think Lex might pay a visit to your parents, what is in season? Corn is it?" Lionel asked. 

Clark got into the car. 

"Once upon a time I had a vial of blood in my possession," Lionel began. "Although I wonder if I can call it blood. Morgan Edge brought me more of the substance and I've wondered if and where I could ever get more. You must think I'm stupid, Clark, or at best clueless." 

Lionel was staring him down. "It was your blood, wasn't it? How did that vial come to be? How did Morgan Edge get some?" 

Clark didn't want to answer. 

"Need I remind you that you might be beyond human but your parents aren't," Lionel said as he picked up his phone.

"I know you would but Lex wouldn't," Clark said. 

Lionel laughed. "Perhaps, or perhaps you don't know Lex as well as you think you do." He let some silence pass. "Fine. What ever that substance was I want more."

Clark winced as the Kryptonite needle pierced his arm. Perhaps this was more painful than the stab with the knife but he told himself it was all in his head. Lionel watched silently as his doctor drew blood from Clark's arm. This wouldn't be the last of it.

“Thank you, Mr Kent, that will be all," Lionel said when the doctor was finished. "I will let you know when the results are in." Yes, that was Lionel Luthor in a nut shell, be at my beck and call and be out of here when I'm done with you. 

Clark got to his feet quickly and rolled his sleeve down. He wished some how that Lionel would be upfront with what he wanted. If it's my blood then tell me its my blood, if it's my head on a platter then tell me.

"It is the same as the substance before." Lionel smiled at the first result of the doctor’s test of Clark's blood. "Good, you know what to do with it." He pondered in thought for a moment. At last he knew where he could find more of the precious substance, a never ending supply.

Having run home at top speed Clark found his parents in no more danger from Lex Luthor then arranging the next month's order of home baked goodies for the Talon. 

"Hey, Clark," Lex was rather jovial. He realized how haunted Clark looked.

"Get out!" Clark snapped at Lex. 

"Clark!" His mother scolded. 

"Get out!" Clark roared at Lex. 

"Clark, what's wrong?" Lex asked in a calming tone.

"I don't know if I can trust you," Clark said to Lex. "I don't know if you are on your father's side or not." 

"What do you mean by that?" Lex asked. 

Clark didn't answer. 

"I already got the answer from you that I wanted,” Lex continued. “You were my savior by some miracle. With all that has happened in Smallville how ever you came to be is how you came to be."

Martha noticed a small trickle of blood running down Clark's arm. She rolled his sleeve up and pressed a paper napkin against the wound. Lex's face soured. He knew what it meant, the deaths at the lab, everything.

"My ex-wife Helen had a vial of blood stolen from her lab," Lex said. "Obviously my father took it. I had always wondered why she had guarded it so fiercely. Later he had a laboratory that was experimenting on unknown blood work." He took a deep shaking breath. "Please don't tell me that was Clark's blood."

Lex wiped his face. "He was running human trials on a medication derived from it," Lex said, unsure what emotion was appropriate. He decided to look upset. "I am so sorry."

“Sorry?" Clark roared. "What the hell is your father going to do next? When does he go too far, Lex? When he puts me in a lab? When he tells the world that I’m different?"

Lex decided to leave. "I don't know, Clark, but I do know that wherever you might go he will find you." With that he left.

"You've gone to far, dad! Clark is only a seventeen year old boy, you were that age once. Or does the devil have no memory of his sweet youth?” Lex demanded of his father. "I had to know," Lionel said as he sat in a chair in the den looking into the fire in the fireplace. 

"And now that you do know what do you plan to do? Drain Clark Kent until he's dead?" "No."

"I wondered about the blood too, but it was gone by the time I got back so I had to put it out of my mind. It makes me wonder what other secrets Helen knew about the Kents." "Only the blood and who it came from," Lionel said. "I knew to the point that it was one of the Kents but I couldn't prove it was Clark's until today."

"How long will this go on, dad? How long do you intend to terrorize them?" "Do you remember the day of the meteor strike when we first met the Kents?"

"Vaguely, I sort of remember riding in their truck."

"The cornfield you had run in to was flattened by the meteor," Lionel began. "I couldn't find you, the helicopter was... I heard their truck coming and I flagged them down. Jonathan Kent helped me find you. We drove as fast as we could, I held you in my arms. Clark sat on Martha's lap wrapped in a blanket.

"I remember worrying about your hair, wondering what the Kents had in the back of their truck that was weighing it down. Clark reached out and touched you as if trying to tell you that everything was going to be alright. We got to the hospital and I was relieved that you were going to be fine. I never thought I'd see the Kents again.

"Perhaps my curiosity for Clark Kent has been from the moment I first saw him. Jonathan and Martha asked me to help with his adoption." Lionel looked as if he was making a mental note to remember to ask Clark another question. "They needed a paper trail of sorts. It was like they had just found him and he had literally appeared out of nowhere." "And that is the greatest mystery of all, where did Clark Kent come from?" Lex asked.

Lana found Clark sulking in the barn loft where he had hoped the world would open up and swallow him but he opened his arms to her. 

"Please, I have to know, how did you get to me when I was in the tornado?" 

Clark stroked her dark hair wondering what to tell her, the truth? "I flew to you," he said in a whisper. 

Then Clark pushed Lana away and went to the railing of the stairs with his back turned to her. 

"You flew to me," Lana said with the little laugh of hers. “Clark!" He had jumped up on the railing and turned to face her. "Clark, get down!" "I'm going to tell you everything, Lana," he said. "You're going to have all the answers you've ever been seeking and you're going to know why I haven't told you. But if I tell you no one else can know, okay." "Clark, get down!" she repeated as the first tears began to fall. 

"I can't think of any other way to tell you," he said.

She ran down the stairs not knowing if she should get his parents, call for help or what. Clark lay where he had fallen to the concrete floor. He lay there like an angel with his arms out and feet together. 

His eyes opened and his full soft lips parted. "Lana?"

"Clark." She fell on his chest wanting to beat it and sob upon it to. 

He turned his head and smiled at her, "You once asked me am I man or super man.” She gave him a hard push for good measure as he sat up. "But you understand why, Lana? If everyone knew..." She put her arms around him and held him tight. Her breath was hot on his neck. He was careful not to crush her. 

"Is that what happened?" She asked. "Someone bad found out."

"Yes," he said. "I need you, Lana. I need all the friends I can get. But you have to promise not to tell anyone, especially not Chloe."

"But if you need all the friends..." "I don't know how much I can trust Chloe," Clark said. The horror of realization was all over his face. "I..." He didn't know what to say to make it better. "If she is to find out I want to be the one to tell her," he said. 

"All the times you've disappeared, you've saved me," Lana said. 

"Have been because I could," Clark said. "But I don't know how much longer I can."

Chloe knew, she knew that Lana knew what Clark’s big secret was and she didn't and it bothered her that she didn't know. Her face bore the look of 'you don't trust me' when Clark walked into the office of the Torch. 

"Chloe," he said. "Your turn is coming, alright?" "My turn?" She said.

"When will it ever be my turn?" Chloe demanded. "Or do I have to earn the right to be Clark Kent's friend?"

"Believe me, Chloe. I want nothing better than to tell the world what's going on inside of me but I am terrified what will happen if everyone finds out! But now that the Luthors know I suppose there's no reason to keep anything secret!

"You want to know? You want to know so badly what it is Lionel Luthor wanted you to find out about me?" She was shaking now. "I am the cause of this!" He pointed to the Wall of Weird. "Every bad thing that has ever happened in Smallville because of the meteor rocks has happened because of me! I caused the meteor shower, alright?” Clark turned to leave but then sat down and put his face in his hands. 

Chloe was thinking, remembering. "But how? One person couldn't be the cause of all of this." Then she turned to look at the telephone sitting on the desk. The speaker phone light was on.

"Leave me alone Lionel!" Clark roared as he picked up the phone and slammed it against the wall causing it to shatter. "I should have known," he glowered at Chloe. "If you want any more answers why don't you ask your boss?" Clark stormed out of the room.

Lionel threw the Star Blade at Lex so he had no choice but to catch it. 

"It's not the real thing," Lionel laughed. "But Clark doesn't have to know that." "Enough, dad," Lex put the knife down on the desk. "I think you're taking this too far." "I caused the meteor shower, alright?" Lionel referred to the recording he had made of Clark in the Torch. "How?" Lionel asked. "How do you think Clark Kent cause the meteor shower? That metal key had something to do with it, I am certain. There is nothing on earth like it." "Clark and I once met a young man who swore he was from another planet," Lex said half with sadness and half with a smile. "He said he came to earth in a space ship during the meteor shower and some day his people would return for him but I can't see what that has to do with Clark." Lex picked up the knife he had been given because he pondered for the briefest of seconds of using it on his father. 

"What if Clark was the alien?" Lionel asked.

Clark was sitting in the Kryptonite painted room looking angrier than usual. 

"You know how I hate waisting my time," Lionel smiled at Lex. "Go talk to him."

Lex entered the room holding the copy of the Star Blade tentatively in his hands. 

Clark looked at the blade, "What's the matter, out of Kryptonite?"  

"My father told me to bring this," Lex said quietly. "Where are you from, Clark? Where did your life's journey begin?" "You know we don't remember what happens to us when we're babies," Clark said. "The first people I remember are the Kents." 

Lex began turning the knife over in his hands. If he could hold it he couldn't be Ziggth. 

"Please, Clark, my father isn't going to ask you nicely about it." "Let him ask," Clark said as he got to his feet. "You won't use that on me! You won't hurt me, Lex." 

"I won't?" Lex asked as he rose to his feet.

They clashed, falling on to the bed, rolling on to the floor. Lex grabbed the knife and held it over Clark who grabbed the blade. He let go immediately as the knife bit into the flesh of his fingers. 

"I will do what I have to! You should know that by now," Lex balled up his fist then found himself filled with regret. He fished a handkerchief from his pocket. "Just answer my questions, Clark."

"If the Kents want you back then I'll send you back piece by piece!" Lionel said as he stormed in. He was wearing the Kryptonite ring and pulling back looked ready to punch Clark himself. 

"Use this," Lex handed over the copy of the Star Blade to his father.

"Where do you come from?" Lionel knelt on Clark's chest. He grabbed Clark's ear, ready to cut. 

"You seem to know all the answers before you ask the questions," Clark growled. Lionel began to cut with a rough sawing motion. "Krypton? There is no city on earth that is or was ever called Krypton!"

He yanked Clark's ear completely off. "Perhaps I'll send this to Dr Virgil Swan instead." "Ask him abut Krypton while you're at it!" Clark said, the pain turning into anger. 

"It's a planet," Lionel smiled. Then he realized what he had done to Clark and what he held in his hand. "Krypton is another planet, yes! And what ever happened to it sent pieces of it hurtling towards earth with you among it. How, Clark? How? How did you get here?" 

He got off of Clark and stood for a moment in shock. 

"Lex!" Lionel called. "Get the car. We have a visit to pay on the Kents."

"Where is it? Where is the thing, the ship that brought Clark here?" Lionel demanded of the Kents as he wondered where to search their farm first. 

"You're crazy!" Jonathan said, nose to nose with Lionel. 

"We both know what we saw in the Kowatche cave with that key that you had," Lionel said. "Clark didn't just fall from the sky."

"He might have," Martha shrugged. "We found Clark wandering along the side of the road. Who knows, his parents might have been killed by the meteor storm." 

Lionel gave her the most evil stare she had ever seen in her life. "Perhaps you know and perhaps you don't," he said as he regained his composure. "But here's something for you to think about." He walked over to the kitchen table and put a small box on it. 

Lex looked as if he had finally gone down a road he could never return from. The Luthors left.

Martha looked at the box but didn't open it. 

"Don't," Jonathan told her. "I already know what's inside. The moment Clark disappeared I knew in the back of my mind the only way we'd ever really see him again is in a box." He turned to look at it.

Finally Jonathan opened the box. He closed it quickly.

Clark stumbled home that night a bloody mess. He went to the barn and rigged the hose into a sort of shower. His clothes fell to the ground and he looked up to the sky where Professor Willowbrook's granddaughter Kyla had told him Krypton had been. As the water fell over his skin he wished it would was his soul clean.

"Son." Jonathan Kent stood there with a blanket. 

"It seems like all Lionel doesn't know is the name of my mother," Clark said as he turned off the water. "I called for my mother. I called out Martha Kent's name to the universe and I wanted nothing more then the safety of her arms but I never once called out for Lara."

"You were stronger than him, son," Jonathan said as he draped the blanket over Clark's shoulders. 

"No I wasn't!" Clark motioned to his missing ear. The wound had healed over but there was no telling if Kryptonians could regrow missing body parts. "Lionel Luthor mutilated me and wants to take blood from me on a regular basis!" "If we only knew why," Jonathan said. 

"I doubt he'll even tell Lex. I just wish I knew what I could do to fix things. If it meant leaving I'd go in a heart beat, if it meant killing Lionel Luthor..." "You can't say that Clark!” Jonathan demanded.

"I can, dad! Perhaps it's time to become the son Jor-El wanted me to be! What if I have more powers inside of me? What if this is just the tip of the ice berg? I wasn't born with X-Ray or heat vision? What else can I do?"

Clark stormed towards the house wanting nothing more than to go to bed and forget about the day. Martha stopped him, wrapping her arms around him. It was what he needed, the nurturing hold of a loving mother. There was a time when she could make the hurt go away with a hug but not tonight. He wanted Lara.

Pushing Martha away, Clark went up to his room and sat on his bed. If he told the world would Lionel Luthor have anything to hold over his head?

"Jor-El!" Clark pounded his fist against the wall of the Kowatche caves after having destroyed all of Lionel's equipment. "Where are you when I need you? You're keen to interrupt my life any other time but when I need you you ignore me!"

Someone else was in the cave. It had to be Lionel Luthor. 

"Clark? Is that you?" It was Lex, he was holding a suede wrapped bundle. 

"If you're going to do something to me Lex, do it," Clark said.

"Jor-El is your birth father? Does he really talk to you down here?" "He's abandoned me," Clark said as he pounded on the octagonal part of the wall one last time. "He sends me here to a place where he knows I'm different with all these great plans for me then he completely abandons me to the wild."

"You could have always had my father."

"If your father had found me I would be ruling the world by now."

“No, not yet. He'd be slowly and steadily grooming you for the exact moment. You would be raised in seclusion until the moment the world needed a hero then you would appear on the scene.” 

Lex held out the suede bundle. "It's the Star Blade, the real one. The one I used on you was a fake made with refined meteor rocks." 

Clark reached for the bundle then gasped as he grabbed his chest. 

"Et tu, Lex?" Lionel asked as he entered, holding a refined meteor rock. The Luthors shared a laugh although Lex's was tentative.

"Just waiting for your cue, dad," Lex said. The meteor rock Lionel was holding was on a string that was put around Clark's neck. 

"I believe the Star Blade is made from the same metal as the key," Lionel said as he dragged Clark to the opposite wall of the cave. "I intended to have it melted down to make a duplicate but then I decided why not just stick the knife into the cave wall in the first place?"

Holding the unwrapped blade out for his father Lex looked ready to be the diligent son and heir to the man who wanted nothing less than world conquest. 

"If Zigith touches the blade it will disintegrate," Clark said weakly.

Lionel slammed into Lex before he could touch the blade although Clark was unsure if Lex had gone after in the first place. The blade flew, landing on the ground near Clark's feet but he was too weak to reach for it.

Lara! The pain of the Kryptonite was too much and Clark begged for his birth mother. Your wish didn't go unfulfilled! Someone here loves me!

The Luthors lay in a tangle watching as the octagonal hole in the wall of the cave opened and a beam of light shot out. It reached Clark illuminating the piece of Kryptonite. He was lifted into the air as if by the gentle hands of angels. The power of the Kryptonite was nullified.

Lex took the initiative, he half jumped to his feet and dove for the Star Blade just as Clark was gently put down on the ground. Picking up the knife first Lex then Lionel and Clark watched as it started to glow.

"Son!" Lionel rose to his knees. "You are..." The blade turned black and began to crumble to dust. "No!" Lionel roared. "No!" He got to his feet and looked at Clark with fear for the first time. The Kryptonite around his neck had been turned clear.

Clark grabbed Lex by the ear, turning his face up to him. He reached into his back pocket for his knife.

"Mr Luthor!" 

He staggered to the car of the morning guard of the caves coming in for a shift change gushing blood. Lionel looked at his reflection in the windshield, his blood matted hair and beard, his stained shirt collar. 

"Don't just stand there! Help me!" Lionel snapped.

Across town at the Smallville bridge where he had first met Lex Luthor, Clark tossed a bloody ear into the water. He looked at Lex. They would never be friends again, both knew it.

The wind blew. It stung Lex's wound to the bone. 

"Please, Clark, if you have any sympathy you'll finish the job and kill me," Lex begged. "I don't want to suffer my father's wraith."

"Why will you? You are his only heir," Clark said. "He has nurtured you until the moment the world needs a hero. For did you not tell me that is how you view Zigith? If Numan's powers are not kept in check some how he just might destroy the world."

"But whomever wrote the legend of Numan didn't know about the Kents," Lex offered. It was too late, Clark was gone.

"No. No!" Lionel Luthor raised his hand to where what had been the bloodied remains of his ear had been stitched. His son, his beloved son Lex had been brought to the hospital by a police officer. A river of blood ran down his neck and had soaked into his shirt. Lex! Son!

Lionel had to step back as the doctors began their work but Lex’s ear was completely gone.

Clark Kent sunk to the floor of the Talon, his back against the wall. His clothes were splattered with blood. 

"Clark?" Lana asked as she slowly approached him. 

"It's over," he whispered. "Please, call my parents, I want to go home," Clark asked. Lana did so immediately not wanting to know what had happened to him.

It wasn't long before the Kent's arrived with a look of worry on their faces that Lana had never seen. There was whispering, Martha trying hard to keep away her tears. The Luthors knew Clark’s secret. It was over.

Lionel found himself fighting back tears. He hadn't been like this since... Julian. But Lex was here now. Lex was his only living heir. And right now Lex was being stitched to close the wound where Clark Kent had torn his ear off. Could he hear? Could they fix it?

"Mr Luthor." Professor Willowbrook had called. "I have had a vision. Another part of the legend of Numan has come to pass. Zigith walks among us." He looked at Lex.

"My son is not the personification of evil," Lionel growled. 

"Numan and Zigith are light and dark, Mr Luthor. Without one there can not be the other."

"Then how do we know it's not Clark Kent we should all be afraid of?” Lionel asked. On his finger he wore the green meteor rock ring and knew at once he was going to have one made for Lex.

He looked at his hands now scrubbed clean of blood, so clean he had plunged them in to bleach. 

"What did you do, son?" Jonathan Kent asked as they stood in the loft of the barn. "Lionel cut my ear of so I cut off his," Clark said. "And Lex's." "Oh Clark.” 

His Kryptonian healing abilities had already regrown his ear but that was mere cartilage. "They... Humans can't grow things back except hair and nails," Jonathan said. "You've scarred them forever. Who knows what they might do now and that they know your secret."

"What was I supposed to do, dad?" Clark demanded. "You weren't there to help! Jor-El didn't help me! What was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know, son," Jonathan said as he hugged Clark. "But you're right. If Jor-El was so intent on you being the ruler of this planet why didn't he help you?"

Martha came into the barn, looking at her from the loft she could have been anyone's mother. 

"Lara," Clark said distantly. "I called out to her. They had put a piece of Kryptonite around my neck but I think she was the one who saved me from it. No matter what Jor-El wants she won't let me die." 

He let go of his father and jumped down to the floor of the barn to embrace his mother. "But she has never been here to hold me," Clark wept. "She has never made me feel better. What do I do now, mom?" 

Martha listened to Clark's heartbeat, remembering a time when she could pick him up and hold him. He was the one who could hold her now, standing head and shoulders above her.

Clark held Lana, her head fitting perfectly under his chin. Fellow students as Smallville high passed them without much thought. He couldn't ignore Chloe. She stood there watching, knowing that what ever Clark's big secret was she was the only one who didn't know. Knowing that whatever it was it had brought Lana and Clark closer.

"I have to talk to Chloe," Clark told Lana. She understood. Now that Lana knew Chloe would have to be told, and now that the Luthors knew what else was going to happen. So many times she had wondered why he was the way he was, where he disappeared to. Couldn't he have told her before?

But was there really a time? How could he have just come out and tell her he was an alien from another planet? She didn't believe he was from another planet. Lana had seen enough people in Smallville effected by the meteor rocks to think Clark was just another one of them.

One of them? No, Clark wasn't one of them. He wasn't some meteor freak who had gone off the deep end. Clark had tried so hard to be normal. That was all he had ever wanted was to be normal, or that was what he said.

Chloe stood where she had been at the end of the hall as Clark walked up to her. "I've decided, I'm going to tell you," Clark said. 

"When?" Chloe demanded. 

"Now," Clark said. "But not here in school. Some place where we won't be interrupted."

They met on the bridge over the river where he first met Lex Luthor. 

"Why here?" Chloe asked as she got out of her car. 

"Because this is where it began on the day I discovered why I can never have what I want," Clark said. "I'll never have a normal life, Chloe. The meteor shower, all the troubles that have befallen Smallville, even the Luthors being here."

"Lighten up," Chloe said in her playfully sarcastic way. 

"No, I'm serious," Clark said as he sat down on the rock where a few yeas ago he had brought Lex Luthor back to life. 

"What, you're going to tell me that the mystery of Clark Kent is that you have a double life as a super hero or something?"

He gave her a look that pierced her soul. "I wish it was that simple, Chloe." 

She was silent for a long time as she came and sat next to him. He broke off a piece of the rock and crushed it into pebbles which he threw into the river. 

"I could have let Lex drown that day but I didn’t because I'm a good person."

"The meteor rocks did something to you?" Chloe asked. Now he was quiet. She was so smart, she could figure it out, couldn't she? "You can't be responsible for the meteor rocks. How could you be responsible for the meteor rocks?"

"It's called Kryptonite," Clark said. "And I'm sorry for all the trouble it's caused but I couldn't help it. Whenever something happens I wish I had never come here, I wish I could be like everyone else." "Are you saying you think you're from another planet or something?" Chloe asked. 

"I am from another planet, I came here as a baby in a space ship. The Kowatche legend of Numan, that's me. I have the strength of ten men, I can shoot fire from my eyes, I can run faster then anyone I know." Clark didn't know what else to say. "But I don't want to do any of that," Clark said. "I just want to be like everyone else. I just can't."

Just another one of Clark Kent's wild stories, that was what Chloe Sullivan took it as. At least he had got her not to talk to anyone outside of Pete and Lana about it. 

He arrived home to find a Luthor car in the driveway. Lionel was in the house, a heavy bandage taped to the side of his head. He and Clark stared at each other for a moment. 

"I supposed I deserved this," Lionel motioned to his ear. "But why Lex? Why did you have to maim my son?"

"Because I didn't have the courage to finish the job," Clark said coldly. Jonathan Kent stood in between Clark and Lionel. "He asked me to kill him, Mr Luthor, but I couldn't. I'm not like that."

"Clark," Lionel stopped him from walking off and doing his chores. "Numan and Zigith, please, I need to know. What is going to happen to Lex?" "I don't know any more than you do," Clark said as he dashed of to the fields.

"You just let him control you like that?" Lionel demanded of Jonathan. 

"Well how do you suggest I deal with Clark?" Jonathan asked. "What the hell would you do, Lionel? Lock him in a room lined with meteor rocks? Hope it holds?"

Lionel reached in his pocket. "Hope is strong, Mr Kent."

Lex was in the Talon but he didn't look up to snuff. Without hair he couldn't hide the bandage on the side of his head. He wasn't himself.

Clark entered and a strange silence fell over the place as if everyone knew he had been the one to deal the savage blow. Clark was giving him his space. Lex never looked up. He was pale.

Seeing that Lex wasn't going to talk to him Clark went over to order his coffee. Lana guessed what had happened. 

"Lex won't talk to you?" She asked. 

"I don't blame him," Clark said. But I do. Clark sat at the bar and folded his hands. "Perhaps I had to trade him for you and Chloe, I don't know."

"I don't know about Chloe," Lana said. "She thinks you've come up with a whopper." "I can't think of any way to convince her. I'm not putting on a show," Clark said. He looked over his shoulder as Lex was getting up to leave. "How is Lex?"

"Almost like another person," Lana said. "I want to ask him about some business things for the Talon but it was like he wasn't even listening to me." "I wish it hadn't happened the way it did," Clark said. "I might have told him, I probably would have. There was never a chance."

Lana looked up, Chloe had come in.

Lex's hand touched the octagonal shaped fissure on the wall of the Kowatche caves. He looked at the pictograms focusing on the one that showed a two headed figure. 

"If ever there was a time to come into my life now would be good." Clark's voice echoed off the walls. "What kind of parents were you back on Krypton?"

"No better than the ones here on earth," Lex said quietly. "Who is he, Clark? What is your real dad like?" 

"He's a monster," Clark said coldly. "He wants a future for me I can't possibly live up to." "We are so much alike." Lex began to laugh and weep at the same time. "I am never going to be good enough for him. He’s never going to love me." "I wish I knew what happened that my parents had to send me away," Clark said as he touched the wall. "But I will never know."

"Do we have to be at odds, Clark? We were so close, Clark. We were close to defeating my father. With your powers..." 

"No, Lex." "What do you mean 'no'?" "I mean no," Clark said. He turned to leave.

"Why do you keep telling me 'no'?" Lex demanded. "You have a gift, the greatest gift in the universe! Don't you know what you could do with it, Clark?" "Don't you think I do?" Clark asked. "I wake up every morning knowing I have to watch everything I do because of what I am!” He left Lex alone in the cave. 

"You are no better than anyone else, Clark!" Lex spat.

Lana was there ready for her dinner in the loft. "I have made up my mind and I've decided I can go to Paris later," she told Clark. "You need me right now." "I'm eternally grateful," Clark said as he held her. "I'm going to need you, Lana, and I'll need Chloe and Pete and everyone I can get. I don't know what's going to happen."

The evening was cool and inviting, calling them out into the fields. The corn was sweet. Lana was his for the taking tonight.

Kal-El

Clark looked to the heavens, to where Krypton had once been.

Kal-El now I will speak to you.

Why now? Clark wondered as he held Lana close. If Jor-El wanted him he'd have to take her too. He looked at Lana, her dark eyes. Something was wrong. Had they had stumbled upon a piece of Kryptonite? No, he didn't see any.

Kal-El

He led her from the plants in the field to the back pasture. If he could fly now would have been a wonderful moment to ascend into the heavens, even if it were only a few feet, but the feeling that a piece of Kryptonite was near hadn't left him. Something was very wrong.

Lionel Luthor stepped out from the darkness. He held his hand out, a glowing Kryptonite stone was in it. 

"What's going on?" Lana asked. Taking her by the hand Clark turned to leave Lionel but found Lex holding a piece of Kryptonite.

"Son." Jonathan Kent, somehow holding his composure, was also holding a piece of Kryptonite, albeit a small one, Chloe, Pete, Clark saw his mother. He went to her, he longed for her protection. But he saw in her eyes not to come closer.

"Dad? What's going on?" Clark asked as he wrapped his arms protectively around Lana. "I'm sorry son," Jonathan said. 

"It's for your own good," Lionel said. "You attacked my son."

Clark looked at Lana one last time. "You knew." Now would be a good time. He felt as if strong hands were lifting him into the air. Clark didn't look down. They would all betray you, he had been warned. "Clark!" Only Martha called for him.

Jonathan Kent looked at the ad in the paper he had placed for the fifth harvest in a row seeking temporary help. They had been lucky so far. The only hired hand to rob them had been caught and they had got decent reparation.

He looked at Lana Lang still selling coffee at the Talon. She had grown up so pretty, would have made a lovely daughter-in-law, except that Clark had never come back. Even if his heart had settled on Chloe Sullivan her go getter attitude would have been a great match.

The Luthors still held their grasp on Smallville but Pete Ross had stepped up to the public office plate and was beginning to steadily take them on. Lionel Luthor had been nothing. He was almost gone now, dying slowly and steadily from liver disease while under house arrest for the murder of his parents.

Lex might have been considered one of Clark's best friends once but he was almost unrecognizable now. He had become such a vicious and twisted man, where his father had left the stub of his ear as a battle scar Lex had a new one made with the greatest and latest of plastic surgery at his beck and call. If you had known what he looked like before it still didn't look right.

The entire town hadn't looked right since Clark had left. Jonathan's heart ached. He knew Jor-El would come for Clark some day. Why did their good bye have to be that way?

He returned to the farm and looked up at the empty barn loft that wasjust as Clark had left it incase he would return to them, even for a minute. He looked at the corn that would be harvested soon, the house that needed painting, the cows that needed tending. Every year there was more and more he just couldn't do alone. This would be the last year, he and Martha had decided.

The stranger arrived at the farm mid-morning carrying a duffle bag and wearing worn work boots. He was a tall young man with platinum gold curls reminding Jonathan Kent a lot of himself as a young man. 

"Morning," he said. He was holding a copy of the ad ripped out from a paper. "Is this the Kent farm that needs a hired hand?" "Yes it is," Jonathan said.

"Kalvin Cygnat," the young man said as he shook Jonathan's hand. "I just finished school and I'm kinda looking for myself, if you know what I mean." "Well farm work is hard work," Jonathan warned. "And the pay isn't good outside of room and board." 

Kalvin just smiled, "As I said, Mr Kent, I'm looking for myself. Some hard work with my hands, time to think. I hope to find what I'm looking for."

There was something about the young man, warm and charismatic that Jonathan knew he would have to hire him. 

"When will the harvest begin?" Kalvin asked. 

"In a week or so, there are some repairs that need to be done as well," Jonathan said. "Patching the roof, painting.” He led Clavin into the house. "You can stay in the upstairs room. It was our son Clark’s." 

There were pictures of a black haired boy all over the place. "Has he gone off to seek his fortune?" Kalvin asked. 

"Something like that," Jonathan said.

The room had been stripped of anything that might have been personal to Clark. It was all boxed up in the closet. 

"If you're hungry I'm sure I can find you something," Jonathan offered. "My wife, Martha, is out grocery shopping right now." "I'm fine now, thanks," Kalvin said as he put his bag on the bed. "Can I get you to give me the grand tour? I've never been on a farm before." 

"Never?" Jonathan asked. 

"I grew up in Metropolis, the only horses I've ever seen are the ones that pull the carriages in the park," Kalvin said.

"Well we don't have any horses," Jonathan said. "Mostly chickens, free range for their eggs and some for meat, and a small herd of cattle. The big crop here is corn." He led Kalvin towards the chicken coop as Martha drove up in her car.

By the way she stood there for a moment Jonathan guessed Martha must have been seeing things. 

"Honey, this is Kalvin, he'll be helping out this year," Jonathan said as he went to fetch one of the shopping bags. A son, she had a son to care for again. The other hands had been older, men, this one was still a baby in need of some guidance. 

"Mrs Kent," he introduced himself. His eyes were a soft blue-grey, his smile enchanting. Supper hadn't been like this for so long. Tomorrow they'd go into town and buy paint for the house and barn. A new shade of yellow, a new shade of red. Maybe it would convince Jonathan to stay here. They could give up the cows and the corn for more chickens. A field of sunflowers could spring up behind the house. Those were easy to harvest.

Lex sat at a table going over the books of the Talon. Lana didn't go to his house any more. The Luthor manor was slowly becoming Lionel's tomb and perhaps it rightly should be. Jonathan Kent was stopping in to buy some of the tea Martha liked and to show the place to Kalvin.

"Mr Kent." Lana always had a smile for him although she had long ago faced the facts of real life. "Lana Lang, Kalvin Cygnat. He is going to be around the farm for awhile. And this is Lex Luthor, Smallville and one of Metroplolis' leading business men."

Looking up at Kalvin, Lex gave him a once over then returned to his paper work. 

"Miss Lang, Mr Luthor," Kalvin said in his warm polite way. "I hope you don't see me here too often. Being that Mr Kent has hired me to help him." "Well business does pick up here in the fall," Lana said with the nose wrinkling smile that she hadn't worn in a long time.

"Everything is in order," Lex said as he stood up and closed the book. "Go ahead and make any order changes you see fit." He took a better look at Kalvin now. "Welcome to Smallville, Mr Cygnat.” And with that Lex Luthor was off.

The last stop was at the newspaper to cancel the ad. Chloe Sullivan was in charge of the Smallville Shopper now but it always ate at her that she could have been more. Whenever she looked at Metropolis or the Daily Bugle she felt there was something that got away, until she saw Kalvin.

Hot, young, drifterish, there was something romantic about him. She would have to visit him at work on the Kent farm and do a photo essay on a hot shirtless day's work. Something to look forward to for a change. There was something about him that was desirable.

Lionel Luthor lay in his sick bed looking out on the sweeping yard with the topiary garden he had watched grow as his life ebbed away. "Lex? Have you heard if Jonathan Kent has got the help he needs yet?" 

"Why are you still so interested in the Kents?" Lex asked.

At last his father had faced justice but Lex hadn't wanted to watch his father literally rot away. In Lionel's hands was a letter. He was laughing.

"What is it?" Lex asked as he took the paper. 

"Remember how I was searching for a cure to my disease using Clark Kent's blood?" Lionel asked. 

"Vaguely," Lex said as he gave the paper back.

"The laboratory discovered it," Lionel said with a grin. "At last they have a cure. Except they have no way to make it. We are out of Clark's blood."

Lex wasn't smiling nor was he frowning. "And who's idea was it to drive him away?" Lex asked. "Who was so afraid of him they wanted to keep him locked up in a cage?" 

Lionel's face turned sour. He knew that he had been the one perhaps to push Clark away the hardest.

Martha Kent smiled inside filled with an intensely warm glow she hadn't felt in so long. Jonathan was still asleep, she knew better than to wake him these days, but Kalvin sat at the kitchen table eating a hearty farm breakfast. 

"Is it okay if I start painting the house without Mr Kent?" Kalvin asked.

"I don't think he will mind," Martha said. "Mr Kent won't admit it but he can't do as much as he used to. Our son Clark was a great help." She was quiet for a moment as if she was pondering whether to tell him the next thing or not. "We might sell the farm soon and move to a smaller home."

"Unless your son comes back," Kalvin said. 

"Jonathan would want nothing more than to leave the farm to Clark," Martha said with a slight blush. "We used to have dreams of him marrying Lana Lang when she lived across the street, grandchildren. But dreams change."

"When I was young I wanted to be an astronaut," Kalvin said. "But as I got older my feet got more on the ground. Where does Mr Kent keep his ladder?" "The tools are out in the barn," Martha said.

By the time Jonathan had woken and come for his breakfast Kalvin was well into the effort of scraping and sanding the outside of the house. 

"He was so eager to get started," Martha said. 

"We'll see how eager he is to stay," Jonathan said. Twice they had to replace men who had come to help.

By the time he was enjoying a sandwich under the shade tree Kalvin looked as if he belonged on the farm. He watched the cows graze and some crows settle on the fence. 

"Was Clark ever so comfortable in his own skin?" Martha asked Jonathan as they sat on the porch. 

"I don't know," he said, missing his son more than he had in a long time. Give him back, Jor-El. Let him visit us. I just need to know all is well with Clark. Let me know the years he spent with us weren't in vain.

Kalvin closed his eyes to take a nap. Remember when Clark climbed that tree? He fell out and landed on his back, I was so afraid he had hurt himself. It was during that time we were still learning how special Clark was.

Lionel Luthor looked at the blond young man baring flowers, vegetables and other bounty of the Kent farm. He took the wilted bouquet from the vase and replaced it. 

"How is the harvest?" Lionel asked. 

"Getting there," Kalvin said. “Now that I'm better at driving the combine."

"I've heard the Kents are going to sell their farm soon," Lionel said weakly. 

"They can't keep up with it any more," Kalvin said as he came to Lionel's bedside. 

"No," Lionel said. "Tell them I'll hire however many hands they need. The day there isn't a Kent farm in Smallville is the day there isn't a Smallville." "If only I could stay forever," Kalvin said.

Lex opened the double doors to the balcony to let in the sweet summer night air to his father's room. 

"How can you love me and hate me so much?" Lionel asked. 

"I've been asking myself that most of my life, dad," Lex said coldly.

He turned and faced his father. "Lately I've been wondering that if a cure had been found for your disease if I would let you receive it. There has to be some innocent child out there who needs it more." 

"Luthor Corp doctors will find a synthetic version soon," Lionel said. 

"Soon enough for you?" Lex asked.

"I pray every night," Lionel said. Lex looked around the room aglow in the twilight. The bouquet was the only gesture of love to be seen. 

"Sweet dreams, dad. Someone will be in to tuck you in for the night shortly.

On the balcony railing was a pot of miniature roses. The white sun loving blooms that were hardly bigger than Lionel's thumb nail glowed as if they were under a black light. There had been a time when he was strong enough to sit in a wheel chair and tend them himself. He closed his eyes. He didn't deserve to see this beautiful site. Lex was right, he was a monster. 

The smell of barbecue wafted over the Kent farm. They had never had such gatherings when Clark was there. Only when he was gone had hey realized how much of regular small town life they had kept from him. As beef and sweet white corn cooked on the grill there was still something missing.

A sheriff's deputy pulled in to the driveway. "Mr and Mrs Kent, can you come here for a moment,” the deputy called as he got out. 

Lionel Luthor sat in the back seat of the car. 

"I am going to Metropolis for a hearing," Lionel said. He looked better than he had in years. "There has been a break thru in the research for a cure to my disease. We have more of the protein it is derived from. Luthor Corp will be able to make enough to treat all known cases." 

The Kents knew what it meant. Somehow Clark had found out Luthor Corp needed more of his blood and had given it. 

"Good luck, Mr Luthor," Jonathan said.

As the sheriff drove away the Kents returned to their gathering. Chloe was taking pictures, Pete was in a deep conversation with some of his constituents. Lana was enjoying a day off. But the main topic on everyone's minds was Kalvin.

It was as if the town had been in a slump, a depression. The appearance of one young man had lifted the town's spirits, but the Kents' had only been lifted so far. He wasn't their Clark.

Lana wished Kalvin would stay. She needed him. Once she had felt she would slowly wilt away at the Talon but now she felt different. If she could get him to stay she might have a chance at happiness again.

She had openly flirted with him and he had flirted back. Now they sat next to each other enjoying the party, enjoying each other's company. She had showed him the river, the dam, some of the other places she had thought would only be for Clark and her. It had been an unmeasurable release.

"I really wish you wouldn't sell your farm," Kalvin said as the Kents dropped him off at the bus stop. "I know a few people in Metropolis who might be interested in helping you out. There are so many city kids who've never seen a farm. It's close enough to have field trips if you wanted."

The farm crawling with children. Martha would be beside herself. Jonathan wasn't sure. "Let me know," he said. "But Clark will always have first choice." "As he should," Kalvin said as the bus arrived.

"Will we ever see him again?" Martha asked as the bus disappeared in to the horizon. 

"I don't know," Jonathan said. "He didn't leave his phone number or anything." Martha buried her face in Jonathan's shoulder and cried.

Chloe's hands shook as she looked at the pictures she had taken at the Kent's barbecue. For the time Kalvin had been here no one had been able to pin him down for long but there on the computer was all the evidence she needed. He was sitting there sandwiched between Lana and Pete, a familiar look in his eyes, that sparkling smile. So she sat in her car in the Kent's drive way knowing that if she told anyone she deserved to tell them first. If she didn't chicken out and drive away.

There wasn't a chance to do that as Jonathan Kent came around the corner of the house and saw her. 

"Chloe," he was happy to see her. 

"Mr Kent," she didn't know how to feel. "I was just bringing you the pictures from the barbecue. Kalvin is in some of them."

That brought a smile to Jonathan's face. "He was something else, wasn't he?" 

"Jonathan!" Martha was calling him like the house was on fire.

On the TV a hotel in Metropolis was on fire. People were hanging out of windows, waving from the roof tops. Someone fell from the top floor and someone else caught them.

The rescuer only stopped long enough to put the man on the ground before leaping into the air to save more people. 

"That is the third person today to be saved by this mysterious stranger," the reporter said as the station showed a repeat of an earlier close up of the man.

The rescuer wore a blue unitard with red trunks and a yellow belt. A red cape was at his shoulders and a yellow and red 'S' was emblazoned on his chest. His hair was black and his jaw square and powerful.

As the rescuer flew into the flames and emerged with two people under his arms Martha sat down in a half faint. 

"It's Clark, it has to be," she gasped. 

Jonathan hugged her, "He's in Metropolis then. We can find him."

"But he was here too," Chloe said as she showed them one of the pictures of Kalvin. "He didn't forget us, Mr Kent. But why didn't he say anything?" 

Martha looked at the pictures. It was her son, her precious Clark had returned but why hadn't he said so?

Lionel Luthor sat in a wheelchair not yet strong enough to stand. His house arrest would continue even tho his health had returned and the District Attorney had argued he could go to prison now. No, the court had shown leniency because he had shown compassion by allowing himself to be the human guinea pig for the cure to his liver disease.

Once Luthor Corp could unlock the protein strain who knew what else it could treat? As he was returned to his hotel suite with the ankle bracelet still attached Lionel wondered how Lex felt. The smell of smoke from the fire across the street was still strong.

"Escaped again by the skin of your teeth, didn't you dad?" Lex said when they were alone. 

“Please, Lex, my health might have partially returned but I'll never be the man I once was. It's highly doubtable I'll ever get out of this chair, my muscles have atrophied too much. I'll never even have the chance to leave the house."

Lex turned on the television to watch the evening news. "Dad, you aren't going to believe this." 

Someone had got a clear picture of the hero, his piercing blue eyes, the look that he was bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders. They watched the replay of the rescues, how he flew away as reporters tried to talk to him.

Lionel turned to look out the window, he had watched the fire and its aftermath play out live. What have I done to deserve this? He picked up his phone and hoped an old number was still in it.

"Are you certain you've done the right thing?"

Clark Kent sat in Dr Virgil Swan's penthouse looking towards the direction of the fire. "People would have died or been seriously injured if I hadn't helped," he said. 

"I believe that is the direct work of the Kents," Dr Swan smiled. "It shows more and more every day, Kal-El."

"I wish I hadn't gone back to Smallville," Clark said as he picked up the glasses he now wore as part of his civilian disguise of Kalvin Cygnat. "It hurts too much." "But you know where fate has taken them now," Dr Swan said thoughtfully. "Their lives are full and rewarding." 

"Except for the Kents."

Going to the decorative box where Dr Swan kept the hexagonal key. Clark wanted to take it in his hand and throw it into the river. Was it truly the right decision to let myself be revealed? He asked his birth father. Is this following the path you chose for me?

Dr Swan was reading the news ticker on one of his large computer screens. "You visited Luthor Corp?" 

"I left some of my blood at the laboratory that was working on a cure for Lionel Luthor's liver disease," Clark said. "He isn't the only sufferer."

"If they can replicate it they might patent it then Luthor Corp will be much richer," Dr Swan said. 

"Jor-El assured me they can't," Clark said. He was dressed in a suit and tie, off to do his job as the science reporter for the Daily Bugle. "But in the mean time I can ask them about it."

Lana looked at the picture of her and Kalvin/Clark giving the camera goofy smiles. He looked nice as a blond but she had preferred him with dark wavy locks. In the next picture the look of love was in his eyes as he looked at he. She wished she could have gone to Metropolis with the Kents to look for him, everyone who knew Clark, and especially those who knew his secret, did.

"Kalvin Cygnat." Lionel had managed to stay in Metropolis past his court hearing, he was allowed to stay in town as long as he didn't leave his hotel suite. Now he sat on the phone with an operator at the Daily Bugle having found only one Kalvin Cygnat this side of the Mississippi. "Leave a message? This is Lionel Luthor, I don't leave messages."

Cygnat, young swan, how had he missed that? Hanging up the phone Lionel knew if he couldn't get a hold of Clark directly he could get a hold of someone who could.

Dr Swan answered on a speaker phone. There was no telling who else might be listening. After pleasantries Lionel asked Dr Swan if he had heard from Clark lately. 

"No, I haven't heard from Clark Kent in years," Dr Swan said which was true because when Clark came to him he had accepted his fate as Kal-El of Krypton.

"I was only wondering," Lionel said. 

Dr Swan looked at Clark who was listening to the conversation. 

"If you do hear from Clark I would like to know if I can ever have his forgiveness," Lionel said. "When we last saw each other it wasn't on the best of terms. I know now I was in the wrong." "If I see Clark I will tell him," Dr Swan said. 

"And tell him his parents miss him," Lionel added before he hung up.

Super-Man and Green Lantern ain't got nothing on me. Jonathan and Martha Kent had stopped their search for Clark long enough to eat at a hot dog cart and listen to a street singer. Above them loomed the Luthor Corp tower and the Daily Bugle. Kalvin Cygnat hadn't left a forwarding address but with a name as unusual as his it wasn't hard to track him down.

"Have you ever seen this Super-Man?" Jonathan asked as he tossed the change from lunch into the singer's guitar case. 

"I saw him fly by once," he said. "That time when the draw bridge was stuck. He picked up a big tanker truck like it was nothing."

The Kents went into the Daily Bugle building. As they asked for Kalvin and left their names a dark haired young woman with light eyes perked up. 

"Are you Kents as in the Smallville Kents?" She asked. 

"That would be us," Jonathan said.

"Lois Lane, I'm Chloe Sullivan's cousin. She has been telling me about you and your son Clark for years,” she looked around as if to see that hot to trot Clark had come with them. 

"Perhaps you can help us, we're looking for Kalvin Cygnat," Jonathan said. 

"Creepy Kalvin," Lois said with a sly smile that suggested she gave nick names to those she liked. "He comes in around assignment and deadline times," Lois explained. "He's the science reporter, part time. A shame too because he could really be a good reporter if he put his mind to it." "If you see him ask him to call us," Martha said. 

Going back outside the Kents found the weather had turned and a thunderstorm was blowing in. 

"Back to the hotel," Jonathan suggested. Upon hearing they too were coming to Metropolis, Lionel Luthor had insisted on paying their way. They stayed in the same posh hotel he did experiencing a lifestyle they could never imagine.

"Remember when this used to be fun?" Martha asked as they dashed along, doing their best to avoid the raindrops. 

"I remember this used to be fun," Jonathan said as they stopped under the shelter of a store front and shared a kiss. The street light changed and they went to cross.

If the blaring horn didn't startle the Kents the feeling of being lifted off their feet did. Below them a taxi had blown thru the traffic light and barely missed other cars. 

"Where are you staying at?" "The Regal Davenport," Jonathan said as he looked up to see who was carrying them.

Gently they were set on the roof of their hotel. Before them stood a tall muscular man in a blue and red costume with an 'S' on his chest. His hair was black, his jaw square and his smile warm and comforting.

"Clark!" Martha cried as he took off in to the air. He turned around and looked at them. "Clark! Please, come home!" She stood there with her arms open to hold and comfort him. He was torn inside.

Then Clark swept her up and hugged the only mother he had ever known. 

"Why didn't you tell us it was you?" Jonathan asked as he too was embraced by his son. "I just couldn't," Clark said as he held his parents. "I was hiding from Jor-El. I thought... There is no way to get away from him. I knew I'd have to face my destiny sooner or later."

"We've read about your exploits," Martha said. "The people you've saved, all the good things you've done."

"It was because of you," Clark said. "I've always felt if Jor-El had his way I would have grown up to be a bully but you taught me right from wrong."

In the near distance was a helicopter. "I have to go," Clark said sadly. 

"We understand," Jonathan said. "But please, call, write, let us know you're okay." They stood watching until Clark was out of sight.

Lana sat in the chair by one of the one of the little rooms with a bank of computers in the Daily Bugle waiting for Kalvin/Clark or whoever he was feeling like being today. She didn't like that Lois. Clark was a sucker for long dark hair and she flaunted hers like... Lana had perhaps done the same once.

She had been sitting there so quietly she had almost missed him. He looked lost in his suit hiding behind an over sized pair of glasses. 

"I'm glad I found you. Do you have a moment to talk? Please?"

He had gone back to black hair and seemed so much like her old Clark again. He looked around for a quite place and ultimately took her inside a closet where computer supplies were kept. 

"Who sent you? Did my parents tell you where to find me?" Clark demanded angrily.

"No," Lana said tearfully. "I found you myself. I took time away from my job, money out of my pocket to come and find you! Why did you go away?" "Because I had to," Clark said, keeping her at arm's length. He opened the door to exit. 

"I love you," Lana blurted out. "Is that why you left?" Lois was waiting for him.

Lionel Luthor sat in his hotel suite surrounded by newspaper and print-outs about Super-Man. 

"It's all done, dad," Lex said. "You have been removed from everything at that has to do with Luthor Corp except for your particular medical project." "As the courts wanted," Lionel sighed. "But it's a small price to pay for my life."

Lex looked at one of the pictures. "If this is Clark I wonder why he doesn't visit. He is the science reporter for the Daily Bugle."

"I don't want to push him further away," Lionel said. "If he is still angry with me I don't want his parents to be further affected." 

Lex looked at the Kryptonite ring he had worn from the day Clark left. "It's time to go back to Smallville now, dad. The courts can no longer be placated." 

"I know," Lionel said as he looked down on the street. "I just wish…” That couldn't be a helicopter. If it was it would be making noise. "Alright, Lex, I'm ready to go home.”

Jonathan and Martha Kent watched the sun set over what had been their corn field for many years. 

"Flowers," he scoffed. "Acres and acres of flowers." "The seed company would give us a good deal and it's a far easier harvest," she sighed. 

"I just can't," he said. "This is Kansas, corn country.” Turning to go into the house they saw a man walking up the drive way. He always came home in time for supper.

"I finally decided if I was going to be at odds with Jor-El I might as well be here," Clark said. "Metropolis is only a minute's flight away."

"Everyone is going to be so happy you've returned," Martha said. 

"I hope," Clark said. "It was for your sake I left." 

"How so?" Jonathan asked. 

"Jor-El," Clark said. "I spent years running from him. Finally I decided I had to accept what destiny held for me. I went out in the middle of nowhere and refined my abilities then I went to Metropolis where I stayed with Dr Swan. One day I saw breaking news where someone really needed help and I knew I had to do something."

"You're a real hero, son," Jonathan said. "I couldn't ask for anything more." "Well I could," Clark said. "It's been a long day and I could certainly go for one of mom's good old fashioned dinners."

Lex looked up to see Clark walk into the Talon. Lana dashed from behind the counter and into his arms. "Are you back for good?" She asked. 

"For now," he said. "Metropolis was just too busy for me. Lex."

"Nice to see you again, Clark." He was wearing the Kryptonite ring which caused Clark to react a bit but he fought to keep his composure. "Oh, forgive me, I forgot I was wearing it," Lex said as he pocketed the ring, which didn’t help much.

"You look well," Clark motioned to his ear. "I am sorry about that, to this day." 

"It's alright," Lex said. "Looking back on that time we were all different people." 

"How is your father?" Clark asked. 

"Recovering," Lex said. It's almost like you never left, almost. "How are your parents?" Lex asked. 

"Good," Clark smiled. "We're planning next year's crop, corn, some potatoes, bell peppers. I can't wait, I've missed it." "We've all missed you," Lana said.

Clark walked to the mouth of the Kowatche caves. He was still running but for a while, just awhile, he could run home.

[reidhalstead]

Often, monsters quickly find the weakness to drive a dagger into; the magicless mark that stains his hand and exactly what it used to represent. Reid hasn't yet come up with a good comeback, or excuse that tells someone differently. Yes. He's beyond upset, furious— bitter, a tome of unspilt wrath that has its pages set only to eradicate curses like this one. Better served as fertiliser for some strain of parasitical plants — he imagines Kiri would have something witty to say about that. If death didn't take that from her too.

"Not before I watched them crumble to dust," He utters back — a terrible lie, that he knows his sire would laugh at him for. Reid's hand brushes over the tattoo on his hand, like it itches; an old tic that sometimes has him believing the phantom sensation that it prickles with magic again. Wanting to warn him, to be wary — to be smart on this. But it's not magic or the faded swirl of a hunter's mark.

It's all the other senses he's denying are there. Recognising power in a different way than before. The woman spins a story —

"You can tell yourself whatever you want, if it helps you sleep," He'll assume the lie. Because that's easier too. Liars. The pair of them. Vampires. Full of monstrous traits that Halstead bitterly represses. He's still spitting his assertions, as noble as ever: "The answer still remains to be, you."

A pair of vigilantes in an alley, bickering over morals. Reid hates himself enough as it is. He doesn't want this to be all its mercies if that is what she is biting for.

I've known men like you for centuries. She hasn't even finished talking, and Reid's rolling his eyes into oblivion — Puffs his chest, once, at her speech. He doesn't have one so well prepared, as apparently she does.

"Were you once a budding-poet?" It's frank, dismissive. She can think what she likes. "You're terrible at it." Political speeches of hierarchical divides, of monsters and men. He is done with the memories of what he once was, is, and the former life he's trying to remember for its fractured parts. "You're slow with this dirt beneath your boot stuff, because if I'm not going to be that. Then you will be." And he's closing the distance between them.

His bark of laughter would startle her if she weren’t so focused on his every move, she wasn’t looking for this tonight. She never really does, despite her charm and willingness to socialize, she wants to go home. This time of year is always hard. A deep sadness in her aching for the loss of true connection. This bastard with his vicious, loathing words. The way he looks at her. It’s then that it clicks, she knows what it is. Knows what he is. At least what he was, perhaps one day he’ll pick up his flag of hatred once more. Maybe he’ll take a stroll in the sun. Whatever it is, she hopes it serves him well. It’s clear he isn’t happy, that he is pushing past judgments on others. that he thinks the corpse in the trash would have stood by him if he confronted her and marked her as the villain.

Hunters…they’re all the same at the end of it. No, not all, there was a difference between protecting and taking care of one another and mindless violence. An honor to a true soldier. This man is just a reckless thrill junkie who had thought himself better because he had a heartbeat and pulse. Because he was normal. Her eyes dance with delight as she looks at him, lips turning up in a mocking smirk. “Upset because someone got the better of you, Hunter?” she sneers the title, he’s less than shit beneath her shoe. He sees the other side and yet clings to a life of bloodthirsty violence. He doesn’t know her, and yet like them all he passes judgment. Assumes. Thinks he knows better because just like anyone in any walk of life there were bad ones.

“His name was Aaron Miller, he had a bad drinking habit. Would get real violent with his girlfriend after a bottle of scotch. The witch in question, Amelia Greene, daycare teacher. Makes healing potions in her free time. Tell me, who deserved to die tonight?” she asks him, watching him, daring him to pick one because of who they are.

“You never think of anything but yourself, even when you are on the other side. So don’t pretend to know anything about me or what I do. I’ve known men like you for centuries. Thinking you’re above anyone else because you have a knife, a gun, an axe and a vendetta against anything you decide is unnatural. I’ve watched your kind burn houses and villages. Watched you hang innocent women. All for what? Your great crusade? So yes, this hunter pissed me off. For beating a human. For stalking innocent witches like they’re lambs to slaughter. He got his. What he deserved, Treated like trash, shit beneath my heel. That’s the reality of where you come from. I will tell you there are Hunters who aren’t addicted to the hunt. But the kind like you? The ones who think they are above it all, well ask yourself who the true villains of the stories are.”

[ayekittyk4t]

all you girls try to be saints, i’ll make you wanna sin

♱ Desc: A battle of who can make the other more jealous ends in a much, much more exciting way.

♱ Pairing: Plug!Eren x AFAB reader

♱ Content Warning: Unestablished relationship, friends with benefits, possessive behavior, spit, thigh fucking, choking, biting, hair pulling, manhandling, cream pie

♱ Word Count: 5473

a/n after months i’m finally bringing back plug!eren bc i randomly got the motivation to write. i’ve been trying to write him again for a while so i really hope u guys enjoy bc this mf has me stuck. title is from oddlook. give it a listen ;)

wattpad | ao3

(Chapter 3)

The low hum of your favorite song plays softly through the bedroom. A scented candle lit and filled the room with the aroma of citrus and basil. Along with it, wafts the faint scent of marijuana. The wind blows in through the open window, shouts of children playing below and music coming from the neighbor's garages blare into the room. Past the window, the sun is setting into the horizon while the moon readies itself to shimmer with the stars. Brisk air rushes once more, hitting the bare skin on your thighs as you smooth your dress out in front of your full-length mirror.

“How does it look?” you ask softly while twirling and checking yourself out. Peering over your shoulder, you wait for a response from him. Erens eyes skim your body as he sits in your velvet pink chair, legs kicked up onto the matching ottoman. An arm hangs out the window, joint attached to his nimble fingers. His other is thrown over his head, running his hands through thick brown locks.

Perfect, he wants to say. He doesn’t know why you’re even asking. The little black dress hugs your body perfectly, sweetheart neckline scooping your plump breasts, gold hoops, and a matching initial necklace adorning your chest.

Christ, he mumbled under his breath. You looked just so good to him. Eren wanted to take you right then and there, work his fingers magically into you, split you open with his ring and middle, rubbing that spongy spot inside you. His thumb circles your clit, lips on your neck, licking and sucking violet bruises into your skin. You’d be crumbling in his hands. Shaking and moaning, scratching his back, and pulling his hair. Your hair is a mess, your makeup is ruined with tears, and your dress torn. Eren would think you were the most beautiful of all still.

“Good.” is all he says.

“Just good?” you look over your shoulder, head tilted back and brows furrowed in uncertainty. Eren watches as you pout at him, a fresh set of burgundy colored stiletto nails playing with your necklace.

His eyes drag across what you’re wearing once more. The dress was short, your ass was hanging out and if you were gonna dance the way you always did, you were going to give everybody a perfect view of your panties. He didn’t like that one bit. He knew what people said about you, how many people wanted to be with you.

“Man, if I could fuck around with that piece of ass.” Porco would mummer under his breath, hungry eyes eating you up as you danced with a friend. he’d nudge Eren, giving him a toothy smile that made him want to knock his teeth in.

“Fuck off, Porco.”

“What? If you aren’t gonna fuck her, I’d gladly do it.” Porco throws his hands up defensively, chucking and mumbling something Eren couldn’t hear.

If only that asshole knew how Eren would make you feel. How you were in the backseat of his car just an hour ago, ass in the air as he pounded into you. Hands holding your hips, and nails piercing your skin. He’s grunting, you’re moaning and skin is slapping skin.

“Why? Are you trying to look nice for someone at the party?” Eren snorts, lip twitching and curving into a smirk. The way his tone makes you wonder if he’s trying to get something from you, almost like he’s jealous.

The smirk on your rouge lips mirrors him, only growing larger into a smile from your realization, “are you jealous?”

Yes, he was.

“Answer my question first.” his gaze averts to the window. Below a car passes and ashes fall from his joint. you’re quite speechless, watching as he brings his hand back into the room and takes a long drag from the joint.

You had no idea where this behavior was coming from. You also didn’t know whether it was something you liked or disliked. All you could do is scoff and roll your eyes.

“For your information…” you begin, taking a seat at your vanity to touch up your makeup, “I am not getting ready for anyone but myself.” you dab blush onto your cheekbones, “You have no right to be jealous anyway.”

Erens shifts in his chair, your comment immediately caught his attention. You keep your eyes glued to your figure in the mirror. The conversation had shivers crawling all over your body, goosebumps growing on your thighs and arms. There wasn’t an idea in your mind where it would go next.

“Why?”

A pause and you’re turning to face him. The look in his eyes is unreadable. Was he angry? Was he disappointed? Was he happy? He had a blank gaze and flat lips, there wasn’t anything to even read.

“You’re not my boyfriend.” A scoff leaves your lips as you shake your head in disbelief.

There’s a long pause in the room. The space seems to shrink between your shared gazes, and the mixture of the lit candle and cannabis is making you nauseous.

Erens eyes narrow, turning away slowly with a lazy smile. You do the same, ignoring his presence to choose which perfume you’d wear tonight.

Though you don’t see him do so, you hear him. He's putting out the joint on your windowsill as you study the bottles. Swinging his legs over the ottoman, groaning lowly as he does so. You pick up a bottle. His steps are quiet, yet so heavy. each one seems to mimic your increasing heart rate. You spray each side of your neck. Honeysuckle and Vanilla. The steps stop, and you can just feel him behind you.

“Look at me.” With a slow shut of your eyes, you ignore Erens demand, spraying more perfume onto your wrists.

Eren wasn’t amused one bit. Rough hands cup your chin, pulling you - forcing you to look at him. His hands were warm and reeked of burnt weed. You scrunch your nose in disgust, but Eren can read you like a book, knowing already that you were going to spit something so vulgar at him. He tightens his grip on your chin, hoping it’d prevent you from speaking. It does.

“I fuck you, right?” He catches you off guard. You wonder where the conversation was going but you didn’t want it to go wrong. This was the uncharted territory between you and Eren.

You nod, nostrils flaring.

“I make you cum too.” It sounds like a question, but it’s a statement. He makes you cum a lot.

You nod.

“And who buys you all this?” Thick fingers reach your necklace. He grabs the chain, letting it dangle between his finger.

You swallow hard, but there’s a lump stuck in the depths of your throat, “You do, Eren.”

He’s at peace with your answers, both hands falling free from you. However, his eyes are still glued onto you giving you a warm smile. Still, behind his warm smile is one coated in wickedness.

You can't help but feel yourself heat up. Warmth flooding your cheeks, ears, and chest. Warmth filling you everywhere. A pooling between your legs follows.

“I’ll be in the car.”

He leaves the room.

You're frozen for a while before turning back to the mirror. You fix your hair a little, adding one more spray of perfume to your nape.

–

It was a rare occasion for you to drink. Alcohol never sat right with you and it made you do things. The way it burns going down your esophagus falls into the acidic pit of your stomach and sets fire to the walls. It makes you do bad things. Dance till you drop, make out with one or two of your girlfriends, but the craziest thing you did was grow a relationship with a local drug dealer. Atop of that, you fucked him.

And it was good. It was so, so good. Alcohol never tasted better to you up until that night. On his tongue, as it massaged yours, transferring the taste of Hennessy onto your tastebuds. It was so addicting, you couldn’t have him for just one night, so you took him for more.

You took him in the car whether he was parked outside in front of a busy party or an empty parking lot. You took him on the couch in his apartment. His kitchen, bed, and your favorite place, in his shower.

Where hot streams of water would fall onto your sticky, burning skin. Hands grasping your waist just to flip you around and shove you into the wall. Eren was so aggressive behind closed doors and all you wanted from him was more. And Eren couldn’t deny his Princess, so he gave you all he had. He pulled at your roots, put you in a chokehold, he thrust so deep and hard. He did all for you.

You never felt so clean and dirty at the same time with Eren.

To think he was the one attracted to you first. Now, you can't explain your feelings towards the boy. All you knew is that like the spoiled girl you are, you wanted more. More than sex in his shower. More than his alcohol-infused kisses. More than his pungent aroma of marijuana and Dolce & Gabbana Light Blue.

The flaw you carried with you was one you’d hated for as long as you can remember. That being an absolute idiot coming to expressing what you feel. Eren didn’t see that, he only saw you pushing him away.

“You look ill.” A concerned look on the black-haired girl flashes across her face. Lips downturned and thin brows clinging to each other as they furrow in concern. Mikasa inched closer to you to grab your attention, though the attempt was a failure. You’d been too angry.

Alcohol. The poison made you feel so many strong emotions, one, in particular, being anger. Anger because you were being ignored. Anger because Eren was flirting with girls because it’s “good for business”. Anger because he was left alone with them in a room.

“I’m…” You're annoyed, tired, frustrated. You were so much more but none of the words seem to pass through your lips. “Let’s dance.”

Mikasa is taken back. One second you were sulking around the stone fire pit and the next your nails were sunk into Mikasa's skin dragging her to the group of bodies dancing. She couldn’t help but smile at you. You were circling her, mouthing the lyrics of the song playing and moving your hands up her shoulders to wrap your arms around her neck.

It wasn’t long before you two were swaying your bodies together. Hands entangled with each other and your faces were close enough that the tips of your noses were touching. Time flew while the two of you danced, lost in each other’s spaces and engulfing yourselves in the music.

“What’s wrong?” Mikasa asks into your ear, lips brushing your skin. She smelled strong, like warm sugar and juicy red candied apples. If you weren’t so addicted to Eren and had a tinge of alcohol in your system, you’d eat her up right then and there.

It was the second time tonight she pointed out your discomfort. Although you were tempted to tell her the truth about the source of your irritation is Eren, you wouldn’t allow yourself.

Playfully, you blew air at her face. Black locks uncover her gray eyes and she blinks hard, “I’m ok, Mikasa.”’ You sigh softly, pushing hair behind her ear, “I just wanna dance with you.”

So that is what you did. You danced on the travertine patio of some random rich boy whose party you were crashing. The activity was usually fun for the most part. The excitement of sneaking in and pretending to recognize drunk faces. Then when they’d finally noticed, you’d run out as fast you could. The thrill was everything.

Today, however, isn’t like the previous times.

As you peek over Mikasa's shoulder, you glance at Eren who’s walking towards the stone fire pit you once sad at. Behind him trails a tall blonde in a brown halter mini dress. Her hair sways with each step she takes to sit on the armrest of the seat Eren had taken. Her breasts are in his face while she speaks to him and he stares intensely at the pair while taking a sip of beer. The sight alone made your heart beat, blood rushed throughout your body, and your fist clenched around Mikasa's dress. Eren catches the heated flicker in your eyes and smiles devilishly.

“Mika, Porcos here right?” She nods, confused as to why you're even asking, “Where is he?” She looks more confused. Your plan was plain and simple: do the same thing Eren was. Though he called his “business” you knew how he played, and this was a game.

“By the keg.” She points a dainty finger over your shoulder. Low and behold, Porco is conversing with men who were unknown to you. His hands flayed when he spoke and he raked his fingers through his hair.

“I’ll be back, Mikasa.” You're gone, leaving her to go back to the fire pit with Eren and his piece for tonight.

You push throw bodies, unfamiliar faces confused at who you were as you passed them and made your way to Porco.

“Hey, Porco.” You say sweetly, pulling his attention away from the men he was speaking to right to you. A dopey smile flashes across his face as he throws his hand to the back of his neck.

Nervously he calls your name, “What happened to dancing with Mikasa?”

“You were watching us?” You come closer to him. The two random men excused themselves as soon as they heard your flirty tone.

“How can I not.” His jaw tightens as he studied your expressions. He’s resting the waters with you seeing how you’d react to his flirtatious remarks. His attraction towards you was obvious, though you never played into it up until tonight. Tonight he’d be fun to play with.

Smiling gently, you push closer to him, “I got bored.” You looked up at him through your long lashes. He smelt your perfume, becoming entranced by the scent of it as the sight of your breasts pushed against him, “I wanted to speak to you too.”

Porco was good-looking. He was tall, built, had great hair, and had an attractive face. He just knew all about it. Bragged about girls and his skills. It wasn’t your thing, but for the time being, it would be.

“You wanna play with me today?” He brings his face down to yours, using his beer to lift your chin. You couldn’t help but notice how bad his flirting was, laughing at his words. He didn’t know. He’d assumed you were laughing with him, not at him.

“Should I not?” You play along with him, wrapping a hand around his neck and leaning in to whisper in his ear, “You always talk about how good you are.” His hand finds its way wrapping around your waist, inching closer and closer to your ass, “I want you to show me.”

“Only for yo-”

His words are cut short and you're pulled away from his grasp. Another pair of hands wrap around your wrist, stealing you from the blonde.

“Oh, Porco, man!” Eren. He shouts, throwing a hand and gripping Porcos shoulder. He shakes him while the grip on your wrist tightens, “I’m sorry, but I gotta take this monster home.” He shrugs, eyes lidded but burning holes right into Porco.

Before you or Porco can say another word, Eren is gone, dragging you away from him and the party. You try to fight his grasp and keep your comments quiet in case you hadn’t caused a scene enough at the party.

“Let go, Eren.” You wiggle from his grasp but he is just so much stronger than you, “Eren, c’mon, stop being a little bitch!” Finally, you yell at him, smacking him lightly on the shoulder as soon as you're far enough from the crowds.

He stops, doesn’t turn your way, nor does he speak. He just stops his steps, stands on an empty sidewalk of the suburban neighborhood hood, shoves his hands into his pockets, and continues walking.

Your heart pounds against your chest watching him walk away. Chest rising and nails sinking into the skin of your palms. How could he be so calm? It made you feel so angry. A different kind of anger from before, one couldn't easily explain.

“Are you coming or not?” Eren calls out from the side of his car. His hands were still shoved into his pockets.

“No.” You say sternly, crossing your arms.

He scoffs, shaking his head slowly at you. Then he laughs and gets in the car. The engine starts and the car rolls down to where you stand and stops.

“Stop acting like a child and get in.” His arm is out the window waving you down to get on, the other on the steering wheel. You ignore him once again. Quite literally, acting like a child while not even looking his way.

“Get in, you look stupid.”

“Don’t call me stupid, Eren.” You’re looking at him now, eyes wide and jaw clenched.

“Get in.”

“I can get a ride.”

“Yeah?” He looks up at you within dishealved locks, clicking his tongue, and shakes his head lightly again. He laughs. He’s high. “From Porco? That idiot just wants you for what’s in your pants.”

In the end, you cave in. Entering Erens car just infuriated you more. He was quiet, he didn’t say anything once you sat on the leather seats of his E30. You expected more from him about you messing around Porco. Maybe an explanation about the blonde. Nothing. He said nothing.

“That’s fine, Eren.” You speak softly and he begins to drive out of the neighborhood, “I don’t care if Porco wanted me for what’s in my pants.” Still, he doesn’t say a thing, “I wanted to fuck him.”

As you watch him, he clenched his jaw and his knuckles grip harder on the wheel. Then when you’re stopped at the red light, he revs the engine of his car. When it’s green, he speeds off. You poked the bear. He driving recklessly. Exceeding the speed limit, making sharp turns, and braking hard. He continues this throughout the drive to your apartment. Once you arrive, you jump out of the car, slamming the door as quickly as you could. You didn’t want to hear a thing from Eren.

Truly, you didn’t mind fucking Porco but you never were going to go through with it. You said what you said to get a reaction from Eren and you got what you wanted all along. You always did when it came to Eren.

Once you enter your apartment, you kick your heels off. Looking over your shoulder at the brunette getting closer to the door. When he just barely reaches the entrance, you slam the door in his face.

He’s quick, swinging the door and walking your way with force. He scares you, making your skin crawl once he grabs ahold of your face with one hand.

“Get your hands off me!” You speak incoherently from the pressure he’s applying to your face. With that, he lets go, grabbing your arm and dragging you into your bedroom to force you onto the bed, “Get off.”

“You don’t get to act like a brat after what you told me.” He hovers over you, keeling and keeping a knee between your legs to separate them. Your dress rides up, exposing your black lace panties. His hands hold your wrists in place on either side of your head.

You looked delectable to him. He saw that you were afraid, never seeing this side of him. But you also had some fight in you left, you weren’t gonna cower down soon. Though, especially, he saw that you were excited.

The way your chest rose, your nose was scrunched, your eyes glossed over, and the burning heat from your cunt against his knee. A wet patch grew on the center of your panties and he couldn’t ignore it.

“Really? I cant? Not even after you and that blonde bitch?” You spit out, teeth grinding against each other in a condescending tone, “I bet she fucked you so she can get seven grams with a discount? I know how you like smoking chicks out, you did it with me.”

The look in his eyes was purely dark. He was readable, so extremely readable. A once beautiful set of turquoise eyes is now dark. They're dark as a forest of evergreens. He gave you a look of wanting to ruin you.

“Don’t be so jealous, Princess.” He lowers himself so that his face was inches from yours, pushing and rubbing his knee against your cunt, “I didn’t smoke her out as I do with you.” A smile pulled at his lips as he watches you begin to rut your hips against his knee. And although you were angry, the itch and need to relive the throbbing at your pussy was much more important to you than yelling at Eren.

“D-did you fuck her?” You whimpered out as the rutting of your hips sent waves of heat throughout your body and your thighs began to ache from the work alone.

“Why would you care? I’m not your boyfriend.” He’s so close to your lips now. You pathetically attempt to kiss him, but he dodges your lips and watches as you embarrassingly rut your hips to reach completion. It wasn’t close to enough though, you needed more of him. His fingers, his mouth, his cock. Something more.

He feels bad for you, you tried but failed horribly at standing up to Eren. The craving you had for the boy was intense and it needed to be treated immediately. But this time, he was punishing you and he wasn’t gonna give it to you that easily.

“Look at you,” Finally he lets go of your wrists, getting up and leaving you high and dry on your silk sheets. And christ what a sight you were to him. Chest rising high, tits nearly spilling from your sweetheart neckline, and your dress cinched and just barely above your crotch exposing your cute little black panties with a bow. He couldn’t resist you. He wouldn’t.

“Get on your knees.” He spits out, watching over you like some god. And even though your mind told you not to cave in more than you already have, you continued to get on your knees. Eren watched as you struggled with weak legs and arms, becoming more and more impatient. Eventually, you were positioned perfectly.

“You’re beautiful like this.” He growled, “So fucking beautiful.” He exaggerates each word, smoothing over the soft skin of the back of your until reaches the globes of your ass. He squeezed hard, shoving you forward and into the mattress.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to speak coherently to Eren. Almost all five of your senses were Eren. From the corner of your eyes, you see him leaning over you and admiring you. His voice is low and raspy while whispering sweet yet poisonous comments into your ear. Eren smells of his cologne. His intoxicating, clean fresh cologne and his weed. Calloused hands run up the arch of your back and press down, making your ass stick higher in the air. But you couldn’t take him.

He wouldn’t let you, and all you wanted was him in your mouth. You needed to taste his spit on your plump lips. You had a craving for his saliva on your tongue.

“How bad do you want it?” Eren asks, pushing your dress until it’s just below your bra.

“Bad.” Whiny and breathy, you rock your hips back to meet Erens crotch. Through the rough material of his jeans, you shimmy your ass on his hard cock. “So bad, Eren.”

With that, he lets go. His hand snakes around your neck and the other gets a brutal grip on your hair, pulling your head back. You whine from the stinging at your scalp. It hurt, but the pooling between your legs said otherwise. Once your face is off your sheets, his hand squeezes your cheeks together, making your lips pucker. He sticks his fingers in your mouth, pressing his pointer and middle down on your tongue so you’d drool over the length of them. He pushes farther, making you gag and your eyes brim with tears, ruining your makeup. Eren laughs darkly.

“No one can make you feel as good as I do.” He rasps, his fingers still messaging your tongue and making you gag as his other lets go of your hair to undo his belt. The jingle alone makes you jump, goosebumps crawl all over your body, and your cunt drips.

You shake your head. No. No one can make you feel as good as Eren.

A string of saliva falls past your glossy lips once Erens fingers leave your mouth. He groans at how soaked his fingers are from your mouth. His other hand comes back to your head pushing you into the mattress again and the other releases his cock from his briefs. Fuck, he utters under his breath once he wraps his hands around his aching cock.

Your breathing is restrained, nearly choking from the face full of bed sheets and Erens forceful behavior. You’re aching everywhere for him, but especially your cunt. Releasing the balled-up sheets from your hands, you slowly inch one between your legs. Pathetically, you reach for your throbbing clit but your finger isn’t long enough.

Eren shakes his head, hair messy and falling from the hair tie, “You need help, Princess?” He coos, almost mocking your whines and begging for relief from the ache between your legs. You nod eagerly.

“Words, Princess.”

“Please, Eren. I-I need you so bad.”

Eren is breathing heavily, pulling you closer to him and peeling your panties off. Under the moonlight, your cunt glistens with slick and pulsates for him. With his cockhead, he rubs your lips, spreading them to toy with your clit.

“More, please, just fuck me.”

“Be patient.” So you try to be. You let him play and tease you for a while. You let him stick his dick between your thighs, and fuck them. Wetting his length with your juices as he barely catches your clit with each slow thrust. He groans lowly with each stroke and each little noise you make.

And for your patience, he rewards you. His cock-head passes through the first ring of muscle. You’re welcoming him so well that he shoved himself inside you and that you let out a sharp yelp once he does. Your cunt wraps around him with intense heat and your gasping and groaning at his harshness.

He watched you below him. How you catch your breath, your knuckles turn white from the tight grips you had on your sheets, but your back arch’s more for him.

“Hard,” You speak softly and breathlessly, muffled, “go hard.”

Eren would cum at just that. Though he wouldn’t before he broke you. He nearly pulls the entirety of his fat cock out of your cunt, just leaving the tip inside, then forces himself back into the warmth of your pussy. He is slow at first but harsh, teasing you because he knows how much you like it rough. His hand roams the arch of your back, pushing hard. The other wrapping around your neck, squeezing hard. Then he’s fucking you. Fucking you hard.

He rammed his hips into you at a fast pace. His cock fills your walls and tip fucking your cervix. Your senses were heightened each time Eren slammed into you. Your moans are so lewd and loud, his grunting so animalistic. The oak legs of your bed scratched the floor and your bed frame hit the thin walls of your bedroom from Erens aggressiveness.

You're sore from him already. From the slapping of his thighs on yours and calloused hands all over your body. But you didn’t mind. You loved all of it. You loved all Eren gave you.

“I only fuck you like this,” He rasps between each thrust, “This pussy only takes me like this.” Slamming, slapping, groaning. Your mouth is dry as you breathe hard, gasping for air as Eren's hand squeezes harder around your neck.

“J-just you, Eren. Only E-eren can.” You say it softly, but you doubt he couldn’t even hear you.

Erens lost. He’s in a daze and living a dream of being in your pussy. Fucking you so deep, that he completely loses himself. Strong arms wrap around your stomach, pulling you to his chest with his cock still in your cunt, but thrusts paused. One arm stays at your waist, holding onto you until his fingertips bruise your tender skin. The other snakes to your neck again, gently but roughly, he puts you in a headlock and begins the rhythmic slamming of his cock into your pussy once more.

You panting like a bitch in heat, clawing at Erens waist to gain balance. Though his force is too much. He's fucking up into you like a beast. Grunting and muttering the sweetest yet disgusting praises into your ears. The soft hoodie he kept on is your only source of softness. His lips brisk from your neck and your ear and he bites down on your lobe. You’re a moaning mess when his lips suck the supple skin of your neck, only to bite down till he breaks a layer of skin. The belt lying above his knees scratches your skin, and his hand finds its way up to your stomach. Pulling your bra cup, he frees your tits, messaging them and pinching your nipple.

With one harsh thrust, Eren pushes you back into the bed. You’re limp, letting him use you like a fucktoy. Your throat is raw from moaning so much, from calling out F-fuck, Eren. Right there, Eren. Mmm, harder, Eren. You wouldn’t be surprised if your landlord came to visit you the next morning. Either way, you couldn’t care one bit.

The build-up Eren was giving you was amazing. So painfully amazing.

His hands roamed to your hips and held you in place for a couple of seconds until one came to rub your clit. You lost your mind at that. Whining louder from his thick, long fingers rubbing delicious circles onto your throbbing clit and his tip fucking your cervix nice and deep.

Your entire body filled with warmth and your joints turned into gelatin. Eren breathed harshly through grinding teeth feeling your walls cave in on him. The pulsing of your cunt added to his pleasure so did the rise and fall of your back.

“Squeezing me so fuckin’ good, Princess” He spits out, “You gonna cum, hm?”

Out of breath, yes’s fall past your lips. Raw, raspy yes’s.

“Yeah, yes, Eren.”

With Eren, your orgasms were never just one knot snapping. It was multiple. Multiple knots snapping at an unexplainably fast speed with great intensity. So with one more snap of his hips. That’s what happens. Those knots snap, and you’re gone. Moaning, yelping, whining, screaming. You’re gushing all over his fat cock you don’t even notice the mess you make on him and your bed sheets.

A panting, worn out, hot mess you were. Legs trembling and wet from your juices. Eren's thrusts became sporadic as he came closer to his high from the sight of you squirting all over him.

“F-fuckin’ hell, Princess.” He moans lowly, “Dirty-fucking-slut,” He accentuates each word with a hard, tired-out thrust. He smacks your ass, squeezing the globes to pull you back to him once more. He cums. His big, cock shoots and stuffs you full of his cum. Moon-shaped marking and pierced into the skin of your hips from his grasp, red and nearly purple from his strength.

You’re quiet besides your painting, no longer able to say a thing, no longer able to move. He broke you just like he wanted to.

Eren keeps his cock inside you, reaching out to grab a handful of your hair, he turns you. His other hand moves your hair out of your face and wipes a glob of tears away from your mascara-stained eyes. He’s breathing heavily through his nose, his nostrils flaring. He’s sweaty and his cheeks are rosy from leaving his hoodie on.

Once more, he thrusts himself into you. Stuffing you full of his cum and not letting a single drop fall. He watches as your face contorts. Wet lips fall, eyes roll back, and nose scrunch.

“Only I fuck you this good. Remember that, Princess.”

[lokiskitten]

Request for @hazelw013 !!

Jonathan Pine | special room service

Jonathan Pine x fem!reader

plot : It’s past midnight. After encountering the hotel’s night manager, this one agrees to make you a drink before it is requested for him to bring it up to your room. From there, things take a lustful turn as you’re settled on turning Jonathan into your midnight snack.

warnings : loWkey girlboss reader, mention of alcohol, smut, light roleplay, oral ( f receiving ), unprotected sex including vaginal penetration.

The night had come, and the clock now indicated one in the morning. All of the customers- which were mostly elderly people- had went to sleep, and you found yourself dipped into complete silence and peace. You thought that this would be the perfect occasion to get a drink and enjoy the emptiness of the bar all to yourself. Now, that wouldn’t be much of a hard task. After making your way downstairs, your first move was to reach for the night manager who stood behind the entry’s counter. “Excuse me, is the bar still open?” You asked him, orbs coming in contact with his ocean blue ones. It appeared as if you had suddenly pulled him out of a moment of distraction. He forced a smile to appear on his face.

“Absolutely madam. This way, please.” He answered, opening his arm in order to show you the way to go before joining you in your journey to the bar. You couldn’t help but feel attracted by how handsome his whole being was, adding up to his overall butler look which could only be an asset in that lustful imagination of yours. The man opened the door for you, allowing you to step inside of the bar area before penetrating inside the room himself. Unfortunately, you were both caught off guard by an unexpected visual : the bartender was missing. Disappointment filled your organism face to such a sight, an emotion Jonathan managed to notice through those pretty features of yours.

“Looks like I’ll be serving you a drink myself for tonight.” He offered professionally, as it was his duty to make sure every single customer was left entirely satisfied by their trip in this hotel. You smiled up at him, feeling grateful that he was willing to do such a thing- and internally squirming at the thought of getting to spend some extra alone time with this beautiful stranger. You sat down onto one of the bar’s stools, adjusting your position until you found the one which appeared the most comfortable though your eyes never ceased to stare at the night manager’s back. Jonathan turned towards you again, his hand delicately delivering you a small bowl of crisps before asking you about your tonight’s envies.

“What will it be, madam?” He questioned on a friendly tone, your mind allowing intrusive thoughts to take over regarding all the dirty and inappropriate things you could’ve potentially answered to that question. But instead, you stuck to being polite. “I’ll just have whatever you serve me. Surprise me.” You answered on a flirty tone, body leaning forward as you allowed your elbows to rest against the counter. Surprisingly enough, this demand appeared to ravish the man. “Right away madam.” He answered with a smile before turning around as his mind began to think of what drink he could potentially offer you. Meanwhile, you patiently waited, eyes wandering towards lower places were you got the pleasure to get a peek of his clothed bum. In your mind, there still was no scientific explanation to why male bottoms were attractive, but you just went with it.

A couple of short minutes later, a glass was finally placed before your forearms. It was cocktail shaped, which could only lead your mouth to water at the thought of getting to taste a mixture of fruit juice and alcohol. “Thank you.” You spoke politely, your eyes looking up at him whilst your fingers wrapped around the base of the glass. The liquid was soon to penetrate within your mouth with ease, filling your tastebuds with bliss and satisfaction. It tasted excellent. “Wow, this is very good. What’s it called?” You asked the trainee barman, earning a chuckle from his flustered self. “A secret receipt of mines.” He answered happily before making his way out of the counter, ready to go back to his original spot before being interrupted by your enhanced self.

“Mr. Pine?” You stopped him through his track, leading the gentleman to turn around and raise his eyebrows as he waited for you to expose your demand to him. “Would you be nice enough to bring me my drink up to my room?” You asked, legs crossing together and revealing more of your flesh due to the short dress you wore. You were secretly hoping that this would help him make up his mind as well as growing more attracted to you. Jonathan’s eyes diverted to your legs for a split second, the orbs then looking up at your face as a smile appeared on his features. “Of course madam.” He answered, leading you to get up from your chair whilst he made his way back to the bar.

As quickly as you could, you made your way back into your room in order to get ready for Jonathan’s arrival. It took you half a second to slide your panties to your ankles before tossing them to the side, body sitting down on the edge of the bed right before you heard the door of your room open. As expected, it was none but your beloved butler and guest. “Here’s your drink, madam.” He announced politely whilst making his way through the bedroom, his body bending over as he placed the glass down onto the coffee table. Meanwhile, your legs had slowly begin to part, exposing your naked sex to his sight and desperately waiting for the man to finally notice.

“Is there anything else you desire?” He asked as his head diverted back towards your body, eyes catching glimpse of your bare cunt. Clenching his jaw, Jonathan immediately looked away as visible confusion and embarrassment showed onto his tensed facial features- a reaction which only made you crave him even more. “Madam..” Jonathan began awkwardly, head now turned towards the window as his hands fidgeted together. “I desire you.” You answered lustfully, body leaning back on your palms as your thighs remained spread. Jonathan gasped. Somehow, his blue eyes finally accepted to look at your body- and that as if he was reconsidering his personal decision.

After all, no one had to know, and it probably would only be a matter of minutes. To be frankly honest, the night manager missed feeling the warmth of a woman against his body, sharing mutual pleasure with someone of the opposite sex and participating into some nice aftercare. He had been single for a while, as his constant travels held him back from settling down with a girl of his own. His lips pressed together as you grew impatient, head tilting to the side as you now allowed one of your legs to extend towards his crotch. “Please? I feel so lonely.. I suspect the same as you.” You purred alongside your kitty which craved for manly attention. Watching Jonathan finally agree to remove his vest filled you with bliss, as it could only mean he had decided to give in your proposition.

“Madam... I took notice of the way you seemed to degrade the hotel’s belongings. I’m afraid I’m gonna have to do something about that.” Jonathan allowed himself to come up with a little bit of enhancing roleplay, leading you to squirm in excitement even if you tried your best to remain in character. “I’m so terribly sorry? How could I potentially repay you?” You asked him as he removed his tie before beginning to unbutton the first few buttons of his white shirt- and all of that as his eyes remained on you. “I only see one way.” The night manager finished, his body now nearing yours as you crumbled beneath his intimidating aura.

Surprisingly enough, Jonathan decided to get on his knees, his hands taking ahold of your own before smoothly sliding their way underneath your thighs. Biting onto your bottom lip, your enhance self looked down as the night manager began to taste your cunt- starting with laying kisses on your clit before moving down to your entrance which had yet to soak up. His nose pressed against your hardened bud, this delightful sensation sending shivers down your spine as you continued to watch him work in awe. One of your hands moved up to his head, fingers gently brushing through his hair as if you wanted to reward him for his good work.

A couple of muffled moans eventually escaped your sealed lips, head tilting once in a while as Jonathan continued to eat you out whilst feeling your hand pet his head. He appeared to enjoy this. “Tell me, Mr. Pine..” you began- a sentence which didn’t stop the man through his track. “Is this gonna be included in the trip’s fees?” You joked calmly before being able to feel his lips twitch against your core, indicating that you had managed to make him smile. His licks and kisses suddenly grew rougher, head now slightly nodding against your crotch and that probably in order to stimulate your clit. “Mmh.. fuck.” You moaned just so slightly, brows knitting together as you carried on looking down at him whilst petting his hair.

“I want you inside of me now.” You ended up spitting out, leading the slightly older man to look up from your genitals. He licked his lips clean as he watched your body fall back against the mattress of the king sized bed, getting back up on his feet as his hands began to unbutton his pants. “Sure thing madam.” He smirked, earning an amused giggle from your excited self. You ended up biting down on your bottom lip, head tilting as you couldn’t seem to be able to wait any further. Your core was throbbing, still feeling the side effects of Jonathan’s previous gift. Once his pants had finally fallen to his ankles, the night manager moved closer to your body, dragging you to his crotch with the help of his strong hold.

You looked down at his clothed bulge which had yet to harden to it’s full size, feeling pleased to witness how big it already appeared- indicating that it would probably feel just right inside of your needy cunt. His hand began to gently stroke the mass through the pair of boxers he adorned, ocean blue eyes looking down at you as you took the initiative to remove your dress. Your naked body was exposed to his orbs, the sight of your breasts helping with his crotch’s current issue. His cock was now hard enough to carry penetration and Jonathan didn’t loose any time to slide his boxers down. His member possessed the perfect length and shape. You wanted him, and he wanted you. Within a matter of minutes, you had managed to make him succumb to your charms.

“You look gorgeous.” He stated, his large hand moving down to caress your stomach before sliding up to your breast. The man offered it a gentle squeeze before going back to his initial position- which consisted in sitting up between your legs. He made sure to have your ankles lock together around his neck as his lips laid passionate kisses onto your thigh. If something was sure, is that this man was all about feminine pleasure whilst still managing to please himself through the process. A real gentleman. His head diverted down towards his own crotch, guiding his length to your entrance in order to ease up the overall penetration process. Jonathan’s breath shortened as he finally slid inside of your soaked self and your eyelids shut close in order to be fully able to focus on the pleasure he was about to provide the two of you.

The intercourse was truly able to start when the night manager began to thrust in and out of you, shockwaves of pleasure spreading through your body and leaving you to scramble beneath bliss. The first thrusts were always the hardest to handle. Moaning, you felt Jonathan’s grip grow tighter onto your hips, allowing you to understand that this overall process also had nice affects on his mood and organism. “Fuck..” he moaned, eyebrows knitted together in a sad manner. His eyes remained on you, admiring your body which he saw as nothing but a temple he was meant to take care of a of respect. Your hands were soon to take ahold of the bedsheets, your organism growing more and more affected and aroused as time passed by.

“Mr. Pine...” ironically enough, you didn’t even know his first name- even if he was fully aware of yours. The thrusts carried on and only intensified through time, driving the two of you towards your respective orgasm which you simply couldn’t wait to reach. The man didn’t appear afraid to moan and express the pleasure he was feeling, and that in multiple different ways. You could tell that he shared the same sensation as you did, and it only enhanced the overall intercourse to think that there was a chance for you to come simultaneously. “I’m gonna come..” you announced, feeling as Jonathan fastened up the pace as if he desired to catch up on you. This move easily pushed you over the edge, driving you towards the climax you were longing for.

A great feeling of bliss took over your body, moans exiting your lips as you found yourself dipped into your climax. Jonathan pulled out, efficiently catching up as a couple of pumps offered to his cock were enough to lead him to cum. The white liquid landed on your clit and lower stomach, staining your skin in the most beautiful way. The two of you remained panting, though Jonathan made an effort to keep himself onto his feet as his hand held onto your thigh. “Christ..” you breathed out, eyelids opening again as your head diverted towards the night manager. “You’d be pleased to bring me a handkerchief so I can clean myself up, Mr Pine.” You demanded tiredly, earning a nod from the man who was violently pulled back to his original functions. “Right away madam.” He answered, taking a few seconds to pull himself back into his pants.

I don’t see much Jonathan imagines, which is a shame. I hope this will bring happiness to the people who find themselves in the same situation as me! Thanks for reading. Don’t hesitate to share, like and comment! It always means whole lots to me and any writer.

@devilsuga @theaudacitytowrite ❤️

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Let It Go: Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader

synopsis: a run-in with your ex proves to be... interesting. (Sort of inspired by tonight's episode of MPL and my own run-in with an ex).

wc: 1.4k

tw: NSFW

masterlist

song recommendation:

"You somehow managed to forget all about me, huh?" There's a beat before you can manage to mumble,

"I..."

"Why are you here?" Your ex motions to the club around you, and you bite your lip. "You never wanted to go out to the club when we were together."

And he's right. You never wanted to party, to drink, to allow yourself to feel any intoxication around him. Because he would take advantage of it. You fiddle with the strings of your purse, then exhale deeply.

"Listen, Kisaki, I--"

"Listen, Kisaki," he mocks you, laughing. "You always sound so pitiful when you're explaining yourself." The man narrows his blue eyes at you behind his glasses, swiping his hair back from his face. "It's a shame. You were only someone I used to pass the time; I never really liked you anyway." You try to hold back tears, try to look anywhere but at his face, but you feel something within you begin to crumble again.

This was it. This is what Kisaki did to you, then he'd choose to "make it up" how he pleased. Oftentimes, he would just coerce you into having rough sex, then call it forgiven. But you couldn't forgive him. Not when he--

"Is there a problem, y/n?"

The sound of your current boyfriend's voice brings you back to the present moment, and you look over your shoulder at Ran Haitani. He cocks his head at you, smiling sweetly, with a hand placed on your shoulder. When Ran sees the tears forming in your eyes, the corners of his mouth droop, and he turns to Kiskai with a blank look.

"Has my girlfriend offended you?" he wonders, sliding his warm hand from your shoulder and touching your waist. You want to tell him, you want to inform him of the nasty words Kisaki said to you earlier, but the blonde and black-haired man doesn't get a chance.

"She's offending me with her presence," Kiskai spits and Ran nods.

"I see; my apologies." He begins to escort you away, holding you close and clutching his fist by his side. "I'm honoring your wish, y/n."

"No violence, please."

Ran is avoiding a fight, you realize after the sting of him not defending you passes. You had asked him to avoid it earlier that night, and the hot-headed older brother would defend you physically if he had to. But he doesn't have to. Not right now.

"Hey, from one man to another, I wouldn't be her boyfriend. She's really sloppy seconds, and kind of an embarrassment if you know what I mean."

The movement is quick, and if you hadn't been by his side, you would have missed it. A glass drops to the floor, and you see Kisaki on the floor, clutching his face as Ran stands over him, straightening his jacket and giving him a fake grimace.

"Oh, my bad." He squats down to face Kisaki, whispering, "From one man to another, you better not look her way ever again. Or that broken nose will turn into a broken face."

Ran stands, then rejoins your side and tries to usher you away from the sight of Kisaki cradling his broken nose, blue eyes looking over at you in horror.

You blink slowly, deciphering the horror in his eyes as what kind of monster did she exchange me for? and let your lover lead you away with whispered curses against your abuser.

_____________________________________________________________

"I'm not sorry for what I did."

The words are whispered against the skin of your wrist, and Ran appears to be as apologetic as he can be in the moonlight spilling through the open window. The long, gauzy curtains brush against the wood floors of the apartment while you turn your head to look at your semi-remorseful boyfriend, skin prickling with goosebumps.

"It's fine."

"Can I make it up to you, though? I know you wanted to enjoy your night, but--"

"No." Your word silences him, and Ran stares out at the cityscape, inhaling deeply. Memories of the years of abuse endured under Kisaki's thumb come rushing back to you, and your shaky breaths begin anew. Ran pulls you close as you begin to shake, sniffing as mucus clogs your nostrils and makes it hard to breathe.

"Just let it out."

"I just... I should've been--" You choke out a sob, pressing yourself into the old band t-shirt that smells like Ran's expensive cologne. The woodsy smell calms you only marginally, but it smells like home.

"You're no one's 'sloppy seconds'. And you're not embarrassing." Ran pulls you away from his shirt, tilting your chin up with his index finger as he murmurs, "Your ex is going to be alone for a long time. He's the problem, not you."

Ran presses your fingertips to his lips and kisses your right hand then your left, reminding you of the first time he showed up to your door, covered in dirt and blood and craving your touch. He pulls you to him and kisses your lips, holding both of your wrists behind him so all your body can do is lean forward onto his chest.

You pull away to breathe, then continue kissing his soft lips, hoping he would never let you go from this moment in his arms. Your wrists are released, then hands roam up your exposed thighs and under the large t-shirt you'd pulled on after making it home and showering. You smell like Ran - everything smells like him - and you drown in the scent; teakwood and Oudh clouding your nostrils.

"I love every inch of you," Ran vows, pulling your shirt over your body. You help him and lift off of his chest, tossing the article of clothing onto the floor as his hands come to caress your breasts and waist. "I hope you'll never think about his words again after tonight." Ran licks his lips, then proceeds to press you down so he can capture your nipples in his mouth and suck on them, going back and forth between the two.

"Ran," you gasp, cradling his neck with your right hand. "Ran." You repeat his name over and over again, rolling your hips over the seams of his jeans and letting small moans escape your lips as he caters to you, to your body that's been so starved for something other than sadness.

Fingers slide below your underwear and part your lips, rubbing gentle motions onto your slit and making you exhale so deeply that you feel you won't ever have another breath in your lungs.

"That's it," Ran whispers into the darkness. "Just let it all go."

Just let it all go.

You let go as Ran slides his fingers into your cunt and brings you to the edge of pleasure, where it crests and then falls off a cliff. His violet eyes watch you through it all, making sure each of his movements is adequate and pleasing to you before continuing down his quest of making you unravel at his behest.

"I love you," he groans as you sink onto his cock. "I really do."

You kiss him in response, moving your hips up and down as you ride him slowly, with his hands gripping your hips and guiding you up and down his length. You cling to Ran, which is how he likes it, hair draped over to one side while you fuck him lazily and draw him to the edge before stopping. And each time, his eyes find yours, mouth opening to curse as you drag him back and forth between pleasure and frustration.

"Make me cum," Ran finally gasps, eyes hooded. "Do it, my love."

You smack your hips into his quickly, kissing down his neck while he lays beneath you, fingers clenching and letting go of the flesh of your ass cheeks rapidly. "Baby," you grunt, pussy sucking him in as you cum for a second time. Ran shoots up in the bed suddenly, pressing you against him as he spills his seed into your dripping pussy, eyes rolling into the back of his head as his hips jerk four times.

"Oh..." Ran sighs as he comes down from his high, head swimming. You rest on top of him, still pulsing around his length as he recovers. "You're so perfect."

"So are you," you grin, your head in the clouds. "I love you."

Ran takes two fingers and slides them down your lips in acknowledgment, and you press a single kiss to them, remembering the way he'd done the same motion after your first kiss, and how you'd ended up just like this, tangled up in each other after one of his fights.

[enruiinas]

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ He's still seething as he attempts to steady himself under the girl's scrutinizing stare. Law's teeth are clenched so tightly his jaw aches, but the small pain is a welcome distraction from arms that tremble to support his weight and the persistent ringing that nearly drowns the soft response out. He wants to snap at her again, to tell her to get out of here, but the shock of the encounter abates with every passing moment, and in its wake comes the physical pain even his rage can't fend off forever.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Not that he isn't giving it his best effort, of course. Fingers curl into fists amongst the rubble, and Law takes several deep breaths to compose himself -to will his body to stop trembling and his eyes to stop burning- before he can respond to her. A fit of coughs wracks his battered frame, and though the boy's thin shoulders go rigid with the movement, he bites down hard on the cry that threatens to spill from his lips when the fit sends jolts of pain through his body.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ It feels like an eternity of holding his breath and willing the ringing in his ears to stop before he's able to glare up at her again.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ❝Well, I’m not,❞ he spits around a mouthful of blood. And then wills every stubborn ounce of determination into his voice as he ❝And that Corazon creep is gonna wish I was the next time I see him.❞

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Because he would see him again. No matter what this girl or anyone in the room he’d just been tossed out of had to say about, Law wouldn’t give up that easily. He had three years to live and was hellbent on taking as much of the world with him before he went – and the Donquixote executive had just rocketed to the top of his priority list.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Golden eyes narrow as he considers the rest of the information she’s provided: that the girl knows this Corazon means she must be one of them, and at the edges of his memory, he thinks there had been someone else in the room above them. Someone quiet, tucked away in a corner he’d paid no mind to. Nothing like the other two children who had gaped at him and giggled when the large, silent man had lumbered in. He’d smacked them around as quickly as he’s deposited Law from the window; had they all found themselves here at some point? Some kind of initiation ceremony?

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ The executive with the sunglasses had told him that of a hundred kids, almost all of them had run away crying within two days. (Or died, he thinks. He is sure his ribs are broken. At least one of them; it feels like all of them.) If this is what it means to survive here, he can’t afford to sit here feeling sorry for himself. If they’ve all been treated like this and made it through, then he’ll just have to survive as well. There’s nothing else left for him to do, and the girl’s advice aside, he’s going to get his revenge before he dies.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Steeling himself against the fresh wave of pain the action sends over him, Law takes the proffered hand, too distracted by his rage to pretend he doesn’t want the help – and too distracted, or perhaps too addled by the bodily trauma he’s just survived- to notice the hand hadn’t come from the quiet girl. It’s only when he sees hers – one clutching the book to her chest, the other rejoining it as he watches, that Law blinks and looks between the girl and the forearm that appears to have sprouted from a crumbled bit of building among the scrap heaps. He withdraws his hand quickly, dark brows creasing as he looks between them again.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Clearly, it can’t be her hand – hers are both accounted for. But it looks like her hand and appears to be growing out of a wall, and though he’s never seen the effects of one up close before, he’s heard rumors of strange phenomena like this – unusual abilities, granted by mysterious fruit that bear the gifts of all the worlds’ seas. He looks at the hand once more and turns his head slightly, irritation forgotten in the moment of curiosity.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ❝Is that a Devil Fruit?❞