#feel like i gotta watch out and look out for him but i know i DONT and it makes me feel shitty

[promptedwordsmith]

I love your headcannons so I gotta put an ask in here. As we all know, MC can act a bit childish and is quick to push touch/affection away.

It makes me think of the quote, "If you touch me without violence, you'll be the first". Would love a writing about it.

Aw thank you! I hope this is what you meant <3

Caleb

The first time Caleb touched you, you flinched.

It was barely anything—a fleeting brush of his fingers against yours as he handed you something, an innocent, meaningless gesture—but your entire body stiffened, your breath hitched, and before you even realized it, you had yanked your hand back.

The warmth of his skin lingered, and you hated it.

Caleb noticed. Of course, he did. His sharp violet eyes flickered with something unreadable, but he didn’t say anything. Not then.

But he never stopped touching you.

Not in a way that was forceful or overwhelming. Never in a way that felt like he was trying to push you past your boundaries. But it was there—the careful way his shoulder would bump into yours when you walked side by side, the way he’d place his hand on your lower back as he guided you through a crowd, the way his fingers would brush against your wrist when he passed you something.

Each time, your reaction was the same. A flinch. A step back. A refusal.

At first, he gave you space. He didn’t push, didn’t question. Caleb wasn’t the type to force someone into anything they weren’t ready for. But he wasn’t blind either. He saw the way your guard never dropped, the way your muscles tensed at even the gentlest touch.

And then, one night, he finally asked.

You were both standing outside, the city lights stretching far into the distance, stars barely visible beyond the haze. It was quiet between you, peaceful, until he broke it with a simple question.

“Why do you hate being touched?”

You froze.

Your fingers curled into fists, your heart hammering against your ribs. You wanted to ignore him, wanted to pretend you hadn’t heard, but Caleb wasn’t the kind of person who let things slide.

When you didn’t answer, he turned to face you fully, his voice steady but softer than usual. “It’s not just me, is it?” His eyes searched yours. “You don’t let anyone touch you.”

You swallowed hard.

And then you said it. The words that had been sitting on your tongue for years, unspoken, buried beneath layers of defense and survival.

“If you touch me without violence, you’ll be the first.”

The weight of those words crushed the space between you.

Caleb didn’t react right away. He didn’t wince, didn’t gasp, didn’t give you that pitying look you dreaded seeing. Instead, he just stood there, his violet gaze locked onto yours, taking in everything you weren’t saying.

You braced yourself for rejection, for discomfort, for him to leave—but he didn’t.

Instead, after a long pause, he let out a slow breath and said, “…Then I guess I’ll have to be first.”

Your stomach twisted. “Caleb—”

“I won’t push you.” His voice was firm but patient. “I won’t touch you until you let me.”

That should’ve been the end of it. It should’ve been the part where you turned away and let him go, where he accepted your boundaries and never tried again.

But the problem was Caleb never stopped caring about you.

And worse? You had let yourself care about him too.

Caleb never tried to force his way into your space, never laid a hand on you without permission. But he stayed.

He stayed through the silence, through the bad days, through the moments when you wanted to push everyone away but couldn’t bring yourself to do it with him.

He made himself a constant.

And that was dangerous.

Because the longer he stayed, the more you caught yourself wanting to reach for him.

The more you caught yourself watching his hands—the same hands that had held weapons, that had taken lives, that had commanded entire fleets—and wondering how they would feel if they touched you gently.

The more you caught yourself leaning in just a little when he stood beside you, like some part of you was trying to unlearn a lifetime of flinching.

You weren’t used to it.

You weren’t used to someone treating you like you were something precious instead of something hardened. You weren’t used to someone looking at you like you were worth waiting for.

And it scared you.

Because if you let yourself have this, if you let him in—what then?

It happened one night when you weren’t thinking.

You had both been caught in a battle, pushed to your limits, and despite everything—despite all the odds—you had both made it out alive.

Caleb was covered in cuts and bruises, exhaustion heavy in his limbs, but the moment he saw you stumble, he reached for you instinctively—just like he always did.

And this time, for the first time, you didn’t pull away.

His hands found your arms, steadying you, grounding you. You felt his warmth, his strength—and you let him hold you.

It was so small. So insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Just his hands on your arms, steady and reassuring. But to you, it felt like something shattered.

Caleb stilled, his grip light, as if he half-expected you to come to your senses and shove him away. His eyes searched yours, cautious, waiting.

But you didn’t move.

For the first time, you let yourself be touched without bracing for pain.

Without expecting violence.

Without fear.

And the look Caleb gave you in that moment—soft, careful, like he knew exactly how much this meant even if you hadn’t said a word—was enough to make something inside you break.

You swallowed hard, pulse racing.

“You’re the first.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, barely a whisper, but Caleb heard them.

He exhaled slowly, his thumb brushing the edge of your sleeve in the gentlest motion imaginable.

“Then I’ll make sure I’m never the last.”

And you believed him.

For the first time in your life, you actually believed someone.

Because Caleb had never broken a promise to you before.

And deep down, you knew he never would.

Rafayel

Rafayel had always been affectionate—too affectionate, if you were being honest. It wasn’t just the teasing smirks or the casual way he draped himself over you like a cat seeking warmth. It was the way his hands would linger, the way his gaze softened when he looked at you, the way he spoke your name like it was something precious.

But you weren’t used to it.

So, when he leaned in too close, when his fingers brushed against yours absentmindedly, when his warmth wrapped around you in unspoken promises of safety, you pushed him away. Not roughly, not cruelly, but firm enough to make the message clear.

He didn’t take offense, at least not outwardly. Rafayel always bounced back with a lopsided grin, a lazy roll of his shoulders, as if to say, Fine, I’ll wait. But there was something in his eyes—something quieter, something more knowing.

And you hated that.

Because deep down, you knew what he saw.

He saw the way you flinched, even when his touch was gentle. He saw the way your shoulders tensed whenever he got too close, the way you shrank away from affection like it was a foreign language you never learned to speak.

Most people didn’t notice. Most people assumed you were just distant, that maybe you simply weren’t the affectionate type.

Rafayel knew better.

And that made him dangerous.

It started one evening, after one of his exhibitions. The gallery had emptied out, the patrons long gone, and yet he lingered, still basking in the afterglow of another successful night. You had stayed behind too, for reasons you weren’t entirely sure of. Maybe because he had asked. Maybe because it was easier than saying no to him.

He had pulled you into the back room where his latest painting was covered with a cloth. With a dramatic flourish, he yanked it away, revealing the canvas beneath.

It was you.

Not a perfect replica, not a stiff, lifeless portrait. It was you in motion, caught mid-laugh, the golden glow of light flickering behind you as if you were something divine.

It took your breath away.

You swallowed hard, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “You painted this?”

“No, it painted itself.” Rafayel smirked, stepping closer. “Of course I painted it.”

You didn’t have words. You didn’t know how to process something so raw, so intimate. It was one thing for someone to look at you, but it was another thing entirely for someone to see you. And Rafayel had always seen you.

That was the problem.

“I—” The words stuck to your throat. You weren’t good at this. At accepting things. At being loved without conditions, without expectations.

And then, just like always, Rafayel reached for you.

His fingers, long and paint-stained, brushed against your wrist—light, hesitant, careful. No force, no demand, just warmth.

And just like always, you flinched.

You stepped back so fast you almost knocked over the easel. “Don’t.” The word escaped before you could stop it, sharp and unsteady.

Rafayel’s hand froze midair before he slowly pulled it back. His expression didn’t falter, but there was something—something—in his eyes. He tilted his head, studying you with that same knowing look that had always unsettled you.

“Why?” His voice was soft. Not teasing. Not mocking. Just curious.

Your throat tightened. You wanted to tell him to drop it. You wanted him to go back to making jokes, to fill the silence with something light, something meaningless.

But he didn’t.

Because Rafayel never let things go.

You swallowed. “Because… if you touch me without violence, you’ll be the first.”

The words hung between you, heavy and raw.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then Rafayel exhaled, slow and careful, as if he were afraid of shattering you. “Oh.”

He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t apologize, didn’t pity you. He just stood there, watching you with those piercing blue-pink eyes of his, like he was unraveling all the pieces of you you’d kept hidden for so long.

It made you want to run.

And maybe he saw that too, because he took a step back. Gave you space.

“Okay,” he said simply.

You blinked. “Okay?”

He nodded. “I won’t touch you. Not unless you want me to.”

The simplicity of it made something inside you ache.

You nodded, not trusting your voice.

For the first time in your life, someone didn’t demand. Someone didn’t take.

Someone just waited.

Days passed, and true to his word, Rafayel never touched you. He still leaned into your space, still gave you that infuriatingly charming grin, but his hands never reached for you again. Not once.

And you hated that you noticed.

You noticed the absence of his touch. You noticed the way his fingers twitched when he was excited, the way his hands curled into fists like he had to remind himself not to reach for you. You noticed how much you wanted him to.

It was terrifying.

It was exhilarating.

And one night, when he was sitting beside you, lazily sketching something while you both watched the waves crash against the shore, you made the first move.

It was small. Barely anything.

Just your pinky brushing against his.

But Rafayel noticed.

His breath hitched, and his gaze flickered to you, cautious, questioning.

You didn’t pull away.

Neither did he.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. The air between you felt electric, buzzing with something unspoken, something fragile.

Then Rafayel, ever patient, ever waiting, turned his hand palm-up beneath yours.

An invitation.

Not a demand.

You hesitated, your heart pounding, before slowly—so slowly—you let your fingers slip into his.

Warmth. Solid, steady warmth.

No violence.

No pain.

Just him.

Rafayel said nothing, didn’t make a big deal of it. He just held your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he had been waiting lifetimes for it.

And maybe, just maybe, you had been waiting too.

Sylus

The first time Sylus touched you, you flinched.

It was subtle—just a stiffening of your shoulders, a flicker of tension in your stance. But for someone as dangerously observant as Sylus, it was enough. His fingers had barely brushed your wrist—light, almost teasing—as he leaned in to whisper something low in your ear.

And yet, you recoiled.

He didn’t comment on it then, only let a smirk curl at the corner of his lips as if he hadn’t noticed.

But he had.

Of course, he had.

Sylus never missed anything.

Sylus was nothing if not patient.

He had seen resistance before. He had encountered people who feared him, people who worshipped him, people who wanted something from him. But you?

You were different.

You didn’t fear him—you feared being touched.

And that… was fascinating.

So, he tested it.

Little things, at first. A hand at the small of your back as he guided you through a door. A knuckle brushing over your cheek under the excuse of tucking away a stray strand of hair. A moment where he let his fingers graze yours when he passed you something.

Every time, your body tensed—just slightly—but you didn’t pull away.

Not right away.

You always let it happen for a heartbeat longer than necessary, as if waiting for something.

And that was when he knew.

You weren’t just unused to affection.

You were waiting for it to turn into something else.

Something harsher. Something cruel.

Something violent.

And that realization—that truth about you—made his blood burn with something he couldn’t quite name.

The night it finally broke, Sylus hadn’t meant to push too far.

It had been a long evening, tension thrumming beneath the surface between you both like an electric current. You had been irritatingly stubborn during negotiations, as always, challenging him, testing him, making him bite back a smirk as you stood your ground.

But the moment that lingered with him was after, when the night had settled and you had found yourself alone in his office.

He approached you like he always did—without hesitation.

This time, he touched your face, his thumb grazing over your cheek in a slow, deliberate motion. It wasn’t just teasing.

It wasn’t just a test.

It was real.

And you panicked.

You slapped his hand away, hard. The sound cracked through the air, sharp and startling, but Sylus didn’t react. He barely blinked, only watching as you took a step back, breath uneven, eyes wild.

His fingers flexed once before he let them drop to his side.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then, quietly—

"If you touch me without violence, you’ll be the first."

It wasn’t said with anger. It wasn’t a warning or a threat.

It was just… the truth.

And Sylus, for once in his life, didn’t have a response.

Something Unspoken

After that, he changed tactics.

He didn’t stop touching you entirely—no, never that. But he let you decide.

He let you approach him.

He gave you space but stayed close enough that you could always reach him if you wanted to.

And, for a while, you didn’t.

But then—

One night, after an exhausting mission, you sat beside him, close enough that your shoulder brushed against his. You didn’t move away.

Another time, when exhaustion weighed on you, you let him take your wrist to check your pulse, your fingers trembling slightly—but not from fear.

And then, the night that changed everything—

You let him touch your face again.

This time, when his hand cradled your cheek, you leaned into it.

Not much. Just a fraction. Just enough that he could feel the shift.

Just enough for him to know.

And that was all the permission he needed.

Slowly, deliberately, his thumb traced the curve of your jaw, his voice low when he finally spoke:

"I would never hurt you."

Your breath hitched.

He felt it.

He didn’t ask why it was so hard for you to believe him. He didn’t ask who had left you expecting pain from every touch, from every lingering moment.

He only let his hand remain where it was, grounding, steady—yours, if you wanted it.

And finally, you did.

You didn’t say anything that night. You didn’t have to.

But after that, something changed.

Sylus, perceptive as always, noticed immediately.

The way your body no longer tensed at his presence. The way you lingered just a little closer when you stood beside him. The way your fingers, hesitant at first, brushed against the sleeve of his coat as if testing a boundary you weren’t sure you were allowed to cross.

And the way, eventually, you did.

It happened late one evening, when the city outside was silent, the only sounds in the room the distant hum of a record player spinning on low and the soft shuffle of papers on his desk.

You had been sitting across from him, absentmindedly twirling a pen between your fingers when, out of nowhere—you reached for him.

Your hand, small but steady, settled against his.

No hesitation. No flinching. No fear.

Sylus, always composed, almost stopped breathing.

You didn’t say anything, and neither did he.

But his fingers curled over yours, slow, deliberate—a silent promise.

A promise that, for the first time in your life, someone’s touch wouldn’t bring pain.

And that was enough.

For now.

Xavier

The first time Xavier reached for you, you flinched.

It was instinct, sharp and immediate. His fingers had barely brushed your sleeve before you jerked away, stepping out of reach so fast you nearly tripped over your own feet. His hand hung in the air for a moment before he slowly lowered it, tilting his head as if trying to decipher something unsaid.

You weren’t looking at him, though. You were staring at your own hands, fingers curled into fists at your sides, knuckles tight. Get it together.

"You okay?" His voice was light, easy, like he hadn’t just watched you recoil from his touch as if it burned.

You forced yourself to nod. "Yeah. Just—" You hesitated, then exhaled sharply. "You shouldn’t do that."

Xavier raised an eyebrow. "Do what?"

You lifted your chin, meeting his gaze with something colder than you really felt. "Touch me."

His eyes flickered with something unreadable before his expression shifted back to something more familiar—a smirk, teasing but careful. "Alright," he said, as if it didn’t matter. "No touching."

Except it did matter. Because Xavier wasn’t someone who kept his hands to himself—not in an intrusive way, but in a way that made him feel real. He was the kind of person who nudged you with his elbow when he made a joke, who ruffled your hair just to annoy you, who tugged at your sleeve when he wanted your attention.

But he listened.

For the next few weeks, he was careful. He kept his distance, kept his hands in his pockets, kept a respectable space between the two of you even when it was just the two of you on a mission, walking side by side.

And for some reason, it made your chest ache.

You wanted him close.

You just didn’t know how to let him be.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like him. If anything, that was the problem.

Xavier had wormed his way into your life in a way no one else had before. He was constant—too constant, maybe. There was no hesitation in the way he cared, no moment of doubt in his affection. He liked you, so he showed it. He wanted to be around you, so he was. There was no second-guessing, no caution.

You didn’t know what to do with that.

Because affection had always come with conditions. Because touches had always been accompanied by something sharp—by expectation, by control, by violence.

So the idea of Xavier touching you with nothing but warmth?

It scared you more than any fight ever had.

"You ever gonna tell me why?"

You blinked up from where you sat at the edge of a rooftop, staring out at the cityscape below. Xavier was standing a few feet away, arms crossed, gaze unreadable.

"Why what?"

"Why you don’t like me touching you." His voice wasn’t accusing, wasn’t pushing—it was just curious.

You swallowed. "I just don’t."

Xavier hummed, as if considering that. "You sure about that?"

You tensed. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged, stepping forward—not close, but closer. "I’ve seen the way you look at me sometimes."

Your heart skipped. "I don’t—"

"You do," he interrupted, voice softer now. "Like you want me to reach for you, but you don’t know if you should let me."

You exhaled sharply. "It’s not that simple."

"Then explain it to me."

Your fingers curled against the fabric of your sleeves, gripping tightly. You should have expected this—Xavier wasn’t the type to let things go so easily. He was patient, sure, but he wasn’t blind. He noticed things, noticed you.

And now, he was waiting.

You stared at your hands. "If you touch me without violence," you murmured, voice barely above a whisper, "you’ll be the first."

Silence.

For a moment, you thought he might not have heard you. But then, after a long pause, Xavier let out a quiet breath.

"That’s a damn shame," he said. His voice was soft, but not pitying. "Because you deserve better than that."

You didn’t look at him. "Maybe."

"You do," he said, firmer this time. "And I want to prove it to you."

Your breath hitched. "Xavier—"

"I won’t touch you until you want me to," he promised. "But when you do?" His gaze was steady, unwavering. "I’ll make sure you never have to doubt it."

It took time.

Xavier kept his promise. He didn’t touch you—not even accidentally. He was careful, patient in a way that made your chest ache. But he never pulled away emotionally. He was still there, still unwavering, still him.

And slowly, slowly, you started to realize something.

You wanted to close that distance.

You wanted him.

It started small—lingering closer when you walked together, sitting next to him instead of across the room, letting your shoulders brush just slightly before pulling away. And Xavier noticed. He always did.

But he didn’t push.

He let you take your time, let you move at your own pace.

Until one night, after a mission, when you were exhausted and sore and tired of your own fear, you turned to him and—hesitantly, carefully—reached for his hand.

His fingers twitched in surprise, but he didn’t hesitate. He let you take his hand in yours, let you squeeze it lightly before letting go just as quickly.

You expected him to say something—maybe tease you, maybe push for more. But he didn’t. He just smiled, warm and real.

"Was that so bad?" he asked, amusement lacing his tone.

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "Shut up."

Xavier chuckled, but there was something softer in his gaze. "Alright. No teasing. Not today, anyway."

You nudged him lightly with your elbow. "I hate you."

He grinned. "You love me."

You paused.

Then, quietly, you admitted, "Yeah."

Xavier stilled. His smile faltered—just for a second—before it softened into something genuine. Something real.

"Good," he murmured.

And for the first time, when he reached for you, you didn’t pull away.

Zayne

Zayne had always been patient. It was in his nature, woven into the fabric of his being just as much as his steady hands and level-headed presence. As a surgeon, patience was a necessity—an unwavering calm in the face of pressure, a stillness when chaos reigned.

But this was different.

This was you.

You, with your guarded eyes and the walls you built around yourself so high that even he, with all his skill, couldn’t navigate them easily. He had known from the start that you were different—not because you were difficult, not because you weren’t capable of love, but because the world had been cruel to you in ways it hadn’t been to him.

And still, he wanted you.

It started slow. The quiet companionship, the moments where neither of you needed to speak but simply existed together. A shared cup of tea in the morning. The warmth of his coat draped over your shoulders on a cold night. He never pushed, never asked for more than you could give, and yet…

Even he had limits to his patience.

Zayne had always been affectionate. Not in a way that was overwhelming, nor in grand declarations. No, his love was in the small things—in the way his fingers would brush against yours when passing you something, in the way his voice would soften when speaking your name, in the way he would lean in, close enough that you could feel his warmth but never quite touching.

And so, when he reached for you one evening—just a simple touch, the lightest brush of his fingertips against your wrist—he hadn’t expected you to recoil the way you did.

You flinched, your entire body going rigid, as if his touch had burned you.

Zayne froze. His hazel-green eyes flickered with something unreadable before he slowly withdrew his hand, watching you carefully. He wasn’t offended, nor was he hurt, but there was something in his expression that made your stomach twist.

“Don’t,” you whispered, your voice quieter than you intended.

His brows furrowed slightly. “I—”

“If you touch me without violence, you’ll be the first.”

The words tumbled out before you could stop them, raw and sharp. The room felt heavier in their wake, like the air had been sucked from it.

Zayne didn’t speak for a moment. He simply looked at you, studying you in that careful way he always did—like he was dissecting a puzzle, trying to understand without breaking it further.

You hated the silence. Hated the way it stretched between you like an open wound.

Then, finally, he exhaled softly.

“I see.”

And just like that, he shifted back, putting a comfortable distance between you. Not out of rejection, not out of frustration, but because he understood. He always understood.

You expected him to ask. To pry. To demand to know what had led you to this—why you had flinched, why you had spoken those words with such bitterness. But he didn’t.

He simply nodded, accepting it as fact, and changed the subject.

It should have been a relief.

It wasn’t.

Because Zayne, for all his patience and for all his understanding, was not one to simply forget.

Days passed. Then weeks.

Zayne hadn’t touched you since.

Not in the way he used to. No fleeting brushes of his fingertips, no teasing nudges, no quiet, lingering moments where his warmth bled into yours. It was as if he had drawn a line in the sand and refused to cross it.

You told yourself it was for the best.

So why did it feel so much worse?

You had never needed touch. Never craved it, never longed for it. But now, in the absence of it, you felt its loss like a phantom pain. You missed it.

You missed him.

And so, when you found yourself standing outside his apartment one evening, your fingers curled into fists at your sides, you knew you had to do something.

The door opened before you could even knock.

Zayne blinked at you, surprised but not displeased. He stepped aside, wordlessly inviting you in.

You hesitated.

And then, taking a deep breath, you walked past him, into the familiar warmth of his home.

He didn’t ask why you were there.

He simply poured you tea, as he always did, and waited.

You stared at the cup in your hands, fingers tightening around the ceramic.

“I don’t…” You hesitated. “I don’t want you to stop.”

Zayne tilted his head slightly, watching you with quiet patience. “Stop what?”

You swallowed. “Touching me.”

For the first time in a long while, he seemed genuinely surprised. Not in a dramatic way—Zayne was never dramatic—but in the way his fingers stilled against his cup, in the way his gaze softened ever so slightly.

“I thought that’s what you wanted,” he said, his voice as steady as ever.

“I did.” Your throat felt tight. “I do. But I also… I don’t know.” You exhaled sharply. “I just… don’t want you to stop trying.”

Something in his expression shifted.

He set his cup down carefully before looking at you with an intensity that made your stomach twist. Not with judgment, not with pity—just understanding.

“I never stopped,” he murmured.

Your breath hitched.

“I just adjusted,” he continued. “To what you needed.”

And you realized, with startling clarity, that he had been touching you. Just not in the way you had expected.

It was in the way he always made you tea, the way he listened so intently, the way he never pushed, never pried, but always made sure you knew he was there.

He had been touching you in the only way you would allow.

And now? Now, you wanted more.

Tentatively, hesitantly, you reached out.

Your fingers brushed against the back of his hand, and you felt him still beneath your touch.

It was light. Barely there. But it was enough.

Zayne didn’t move. Didn’t push for more.

He simply let you choose.

And, for the first time in your life, you did.

You let yourself be touched—gently, without violence, without fear.

Zayne, patient as ever, simply held still and let you set the pace.

And maybe, just maybe, for the first time in a long time, you weren’t afraid.

[scribes-of-valar]

𝐴𝑙𝑙 𝐴𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝐵𝑜𝑦

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| ᴄʟᴀʀᴋ ᴋᴇɴᴛ x fem! reader

A/N: I watched maybe two seasons of this show last year and kind of moved past it. I randomly got a Clark Kent fic on my feed last night and suddenly I have a demon in my brain telling me to write. Anyway, there is a horrendous lack of full fledged, non-smut fics for this man, so, here you go.

Summary: Your friend has been distant for months, all of a sudden he's a brand new man. He's practically a puppy dog following after you and you're not sure how to feel. What's a girl to do when she suddenly finds herself looking at not one, but two Clark Kent's?

“Have any plans?” You pull your English book from your locker, fingers stilling as you wait for Clark to respond. Silence stretches between you, long enough to make your brows furrow in confusion. Peering around the edge of your locker door with narrowed eyes, you let out a sigh. 

You should have seen this coming. As always, Clark is staring at Lana from across the hall, looking like he walked straight out of a sappy romance movie. 

She’s close, so close, but entirely out of his reach. She laughs, tucking a perfect, shiny strand of hair behind her ear, completely unaware of the way Clark pines for her. Always pining. Always looking at her like she’s the only girl in the world. 

You could gag. 

Slamming your locker shut, perhaps harder than necessary, you break Clark out of his trance as he flinches away from the noise. His head snaps toward you, blue eyes narrowed on the irritated scrunch of your face. You smile, forcing the snark out of your expression. 

“Did you say something?” His voice is kind, expression open, as though he’s finally ready to listen. But the bell rings, cutting into the moment. You only have a minute to sprint to the other side of school. 

“No,” you sigh, forcing the stilted smile to stay on your face, “I gotta go.”

“I’ll walk with you,” he offers, falling into step beside you. “That way you can tell me what you actually said,” he teases, giving you that familiar boyish grin that never fails to make you unravel. 

You bite your tongue for a moment, mind unraveling as you struggle with telling him the truth or not. This is stupid. He’s Clark, your best friend. Your stupid, oblivious, beautiful best friend. But the way he looks at you, soft and warm as he slows his stride so he can walk together a little longer. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to ask. 

No. It will definitely still hurt. 

“Would you want to do something this weekend?” You rush it all out at once and immediately look away from him, terrified by what you might see on his face. 

There’s a beat of silence. Then Clark laughs, light and easy. Your stomach twists and your head shoots up, a disbelieving glare on your face. You’d known it would be unlikely that he’d return your feelings, but laughing seems below him. 

“Why’re you being so weird?” He shakes his head, still grinning. “We’ll just do a movie night like always.” He squeezes your shoulder, casual, friendly, a wholly innocent gesture. Nothing more and nothing different. It’s completely platonic to him, as it always is. It takes you a moment to realize that he took what you were saying the wrong way. Or, maybe this is just the gentlest way he knows how to let you down. 

“Right,” you struggle to keep your voice even but it doesn’t matter, the dejection slips through your tone. His smile falters slightly and he looks like he wants to say something when the shrill ring of the bell interrupts you both.

“I’ll see you later,” he offers but he sounds uncertain. Most of your plans have fallen through lately. Either because he was busy with Lana or off disappearing somewhere. You’re not sure, but you know the divide is growing larger between you both and you’re getting scared you’re going to lose him. 

“Sure,” you give him a flat smile and he hovers beside you for a moment, like he wants to fix this but doesn’t know how. 

“You’re going to be late,” you startle slightly and glance over your shoulder. Blake, a boy you share your English class with offers you a shy smile as he hovers by the door, holding it open for you to walk through.  

“Thanks,” you walk past them both and into class, not wanting to look at Clark any longer. You miss the sharp look Blake shoots Clark and the way your friend lingers by the door for a minute before rushing off to his own class. 

You slide into your seat, lucky to have gotten in before Mrs. Brown, lord knows she would love to make a spectacle of anyone being tardy. Blake follows not far behind you, slipping into the seat beside you as always. He’s nice enough, quiet, unassuming. You’ve never said more than a few words to each other, but right now all of his attention seems to be on you. 

He whispers your name and you give him a brief glance and smile, mind still wrapped up in Clark. “Um, I was going to ask,” he stutters over his words for a moment, swallowing thickly before finally meeting your eye. “Are you doing anything this weekend?”

“Yeah,” you answer absentmindedly. “I have plans with Clark,” you tell him shortly as Mrs. Brown walks in. You don’t have time to explain that you’ll probably just end up waiting around your house all weekend. Just to get a brief and incomprehensible explanation of why you were all alone on Monday. 

He sinks back in his seat with a sigh just as the teacher begins writing the assignment on the board. You shoot him a slightly concerned look before brushing the interaction off as nothing.

Standing in the line at The Talon has become almost a hobby for you. Not just because Clark drags you here constantly, but because he distracts Lana from actually taking any orders. The wait time seems to triple every time he walks into the shop. You hear people grumbling behind you and finally move toward Clark, breaking the unspoken rule of leaving him and Lana alone. 

“There’s a line, Clark,” you sing-song, warning him. The both of them flush, breaking their hushed conversation and shooting you a sheepish look. 

“I’m sorry,” Lana apologizes and you wave her off. “Do you want anything?” 

You’d been considering getting a muffin, but when you look over and see the lovesick smile Clark is giving her, you find your appetite has disappeared. “Uh, no, I’m good.”

Clark turns toward you with a soft frown and he nearly makes you forget just how much you resent him for dragging you along to see this. “I thought you were hungry.”

You glance back at Lana and find her eyes already on him. God, what’s the point of a breakup if you’re still obsessed with each other? “No, it’s alright.”

You move away from the counter to step outside, expecting him to stay there and continue flirting despite the angry customers behind them. You’re surprised when you hear his voice immediately beside you. 

“Hey,” he moves away from the door, a grin on his face. Face wrinkling in confusion, you nod your head in greeting even though you’d just seen him. Your eyes narrow in on the leather of his jacket and your head tilts in confusion. You swear he was wearing a zip up a moment ago. “What’re you doing?” He asks, tone light as he stands beside you closer than he normally would. 

“Uh,” you’re tempted to glance over your shoulder and make sure he isn’t still standing in The Talon. “Did you hit your head?” He flushes slightly and you laugh. “Just our usual friday endeavors, you moon over Lana and I hold back the mob of angry customers who just want a coffee.” Laughing to ease some of your own tension, it trails off when you see the smile drop from his face. 

His eyes narrow and he glances toward the shop, “Idiot,” he mutters. You shoot him an affronted look and he blanches, quickly correcting himself. “Me, not you.” You want to question him further but he slings an arm over your shoulder and redirects you away from the shop. Mind a blank slate, you feel your brain break slightly at the simple touch. 

When you were younger, before Lana, before either of you even knew what crushes were, something like this would mean nothing to you. As it is, though, your friendship seems to have dwindled to nothing but compulsory hangouts and the occasional conversation in the hallway. Something as simple as his arm around you has turned into everything for you. 

“So, what are we doing tonight?” 

“Movies at your place, like usual,” you remind him. He must have slipped and hit his head on the way out of The Talon.  Either that, or he already forgot the plans you made just this morning. Neither would surprise you. 

His face screws up and he shakes his head, “God, that’s lame.” You scoff, shooting him an odd look, not bothering to remind him that it was his idea. “I mean what’s he-” 

Clark cuts himself off, glancing down at you before letting out a short laugh. “How ‘bout the fair?”

You reach up and press the back of your hand to his forehead. He gives you a bewildered laugh, taking your hand in his and grinning. “What are you doing?”

You lean back slightly, breathless at the awestruck way he’s looking at you. You’ve only ever seen him look at…

Lana, you’ve only ever seen a look like this directed at Lana. But now, those deep blue eyes are pulling you in and you feel helpless to fight them. You swallow hard, blinking while you try to remember what you were even going to say. 

“Uh,” licking your lips you don’t miss the way his eyes track the movement. “I was seeing if you had a fever. Since when do you want to go out?” 

He laces your fingers together and tugs you forward, “Since now.” 

Usually, you’re not so quick to look a gift horse in the mouth. Months, you’ve been praying he treats you with even a semblance of care he throws toward Lana. Now, you finally get it and you can’t help the sick tightening feeling in your stomach telling you this is all wrong.

The fair is less crowded than you had expected. Though, it is nearly the last day it’s in town, you suppose everyone’s already had their fill of it. You have been trying to get Clark to come with you for nearly a week, maybe this is why he had waited so long to join you. Some of the rides you actually got all to yourself. 

“You know these things are rigged,” you tease, watching as he tries and fails at the bottle toss for the third time. The bored teenage girl behind the booth briefly glances up from her book to glare at you both. You shoot her a sardonic smile and she turns to Clark. 

“You can just buy the stuffed animal, ya know?” She drawls. 

“That’s cheating-”

“Where’s the fun in that-”

You and Clark share a grin as you speak over each other. The girl pales at your joined voices and returns quickly to her book, muttering something about annoying couples. 

Your stomach flutters at the idea of you and Clark as a couple but you push it down. “Alright,” Clark chuckles and holds his arm out for you, “let’s get out of here.”

You slip your arm through his easily, smiling up at him. You’ve long since stopped questioning just how touchy he is. Clearly, he’s in a generous mood tonight and you feel like taking advantage of that as much as possible.

“Where to next?” He asks and your eyes crawl across the fairground, struggling to find something you haven’t already done. 

You toss what must be your third lemonade in the closest bin and shoot him a sheepish smile. “I think I’ll need to go to the bathroom before we do any more rides.”

He’s slow to let you go, hand drifting down to hold yours as he steps back. “I’ll wait by the ferris wheel,” he tells you lowly. 

Your cheeks flush, eyes widening slightly as you slip away from him. The ferris wheel is notorious among Smallville students as the place to make a move. Everyone knows it’s just couples that ride up in those rickety old cars. Still, Clark is slightly oblivious to stuff like that. You don’t want to get your hopes up just for it to ultimately be nothing more than a friendly outing. 

Rushing toward the sad group of Port-a-potties you let out an annoyed sigh when you see the long line awaiting you. Your foot bounces against the dirt impatiently as you peer around the girl in front of you just to see there has to be, at least, ten people before you. 

There’s a vibration in your pocket before you hear the shrill ringing of your Nokia. Digging it out of your jeans you answer without checking the contact. “Hello?” The girl in front of you shoots you a dirty look and you take a step back from her. 

“Hey, where’re you?” You frown at the sound of Clark’s voice, glancing around like you might be able to spot him in the crowd. You’d told him where you were going, why would he be calling?

“You know where I am,” you tell him, chuckling. 

There’s a slight huff on the other end and you frown, he almost sounds disappointed. “What are you talking about? We were supposed to watch movies tonight.”

“Okay, Clark, I’m officially concerned. You’ve been acting weird all day. We’re at the fair,” you say slowly, over-enunciating your words like he’s slow. “You said movies were going to be lame.”

There’s a long pause and he utters your name in a concerningly serious tone. “The person you’re with-”

“Alright, do you mind?” The girl in front of you whips around and snaps at you. Blanching, you lower the phone from your ear and she shoots you an incredibly dirty look. 

“Clark, I’ll see you in a few minutes,” you whisper into the phone. 

“Wait-” 

You cut him off, hanging up and shoving your phone in your back pocket. She turns back around and rolls her eyes. It doesn’t take long for your Nokia to start ringing again but you figure you’ll just meet Clark by the ferris wheel like he said. 

Low groaning drifts through the noises of the crowd and makes you pause. Tilting your head around the corner of a trailer, the sounds only grow louder. Everything inside you says not to investigate, but the person sounds like they’re genuinely in pain. You can’t just walk away. 

“Hey,” you call out softly. “Are you okay?”

There’s no response and you take a hesitant step closer. A scuffed white converse slips from behind the back of the trailer and it looks worryingly similar to Clark’s. “Clark?” You call out, creeping a little further into the dark. 

It’s like a cocoon of silence back here, as though the shadows swallow the voices and loud cheering sounds of the games beyond you. “No,” the small voice croaks out. You see a hand in the dirt and they begin dragging themselves forward. You jump back a step, heart picking up as you watch them get to their feet. 

This was a stupid idea, walking toward a stranger in the dark. Even in Smallville you couldn’t trust everyone. They finally turn and you let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, Blake, hey.”

He gives you a weak grimace, clutching his stomach like he’s in pain. “Hi.”

“Are you okay?” You ask, taking a step closer to him, trying to get a better look. 

“Fine, fine,” he stutters out, shifting just enough to keep his face half-hidden in the shadows.  Even knowing the person lurking within the shadows, you still feel slightly on edge. Something about the way he moves unsettles you. It’s not as though you know him well, he’s just a classmate. Someone quiet and harmless. Or, you hope he’s harmless, right now there’s something about him that feels wrong.

“Alright, um, if you’re sure,” you take a careful step backward. Your foot’s barely back on the ground when he lunges forward. His hands stretch toward you like he’s about to snatch you into the shadows with him. You’re stuck deciding whether you’re going to scream or bite him when he jerks back like a puppet being yanked on a string.  

“Sorry, sorry,” he blurts out, breathless. “Clark walked by. He- he told me to tell you he was leaving.”

Your stomach twists with panic. Right now you care more about not getting your throat slit in a dark alley than you do about Clark ditching you. Without a second thought, you turn on your heel and run out from between the trailers. You swear you hear footsteps, quick and light, following your path to the cars. 

Sliding into your car, you lock your doors and peel out of the lot. You leave the fair, and whatever just happened, behind, not looking back. The phone in your pocket vibrates again but you ignore it, too freaked out by what just happened to bother answering.  

Someone calls your name and you peer around the edge of your locker door, grimacing when you see Blake walking toward you. His brown hair is a mess, like he’s been fussing with it all morning, and his thick glasses, normally perched precariously on his nose, are nowhere to be seen. His normal polished clothes look like they’re three sizes too big and you frown.  

“Hey,” you drag the word out, trying to sound polite even if his outburst last night left you feeling incredibly unsettled. “Feeling any better?” You hesitate to meet his eyes, and when you do, your annoyance only deepens. 

He’s watching you expectantly, like he’s waiting for something. 

“Did you need anything?” You ask, voice trailing off as you close your locker and take two deliberate steps back. 

Blake’s brows furrow and he almost looks hurt before his expression smooths over into something startling unreadable. “Um, no, I’m sorry,” his gaze drifts past you. The color drains from his face and you barely have a second to process the oddity of this conversation before he turns on his heel and goes barrelling down the hall.

“Hey,” Clark’s familiar voice cuts through your confusion, and you turn to see him striding toward you. Gone is the easy, playful grin he wore last night. He looks more serious than you’ve ever seen him, intent on something. “We need to talk,” he tells you, tone grave. 

“I know,” you snipe, not bothering to hide your irritation at just leaving you alone at the fair last night. You aren’t surprised, he’s been doing that for weeks now. What stings is that, for a little while, you had felt like you were actually friends again, only for him to ruin it. 

His brow furrows and he glances around the empty hallway with a frown. “Look, we can’t talk here, but-”

The warning bell rings, cutting him off. “Shit,” you mutter, shoving your books into your bag and turning away from Clark. He calls your name but you wave him off. “Later, Clark, I can’t be late again.” He watches you go with a frown, running a hand through his hair before turning toward his own class. 

Not even ten minutes later you spot him walking past Mrs. Brown’s room. Though, you swear he was wearing a red shirt not a green one. You could be wrong, it’s not as if you had long to take in his outfit.

You figure he’s just passing by and go back to taking your notes. There’s a light hiss from the door and you frown, looking up to see him hovering in the doorway and waving you forward. You glare toward Mrs. Brown’s back and shake your head. No way, you mouth. 

Clark gives you a pleading look, frowning and motioning you forward again. You know that look, you’ve been on the receiving end of it for years now. He’s clearly not going to let go of whatever  he was badgering you about this morning. 

“Can I go to the bathroom?” You call out, not bothering raising your hand. The old bat’s half-blind, you doubt she’d see it anyway. 

She answers without even bothering to turn around and face you. “If you need to use the restroom, you do so before my class,” her shaky voice calls out with a huff. 

You roll your eyes and grab your bag, stuffing your books in it as she turns back to the board. There’s no point in arguing with her, she’s never going to give in. You wait until she drops her eraser. The second she bends over to grab it, you’re bolting toward the door. Clark grabs your arm, dragging you behind him.

He makes a break for the end of the hall, blowing past the geometry class he’s meant to be in. He busts through the school doors and leads you quickly through the courtyard. “Clark,” you hiss, trying to hold back a laugh at the stupid grin on his face. “What the hell is going on with you today?”

He glances over his shoulder at you, eyes alight with mischief, “Come on, you can’t tell me you actually want to listen to her rambling on about Shakespeare for an hour.”

You can’t argue with that, but he hasn’t done a jail bust for you in a while. Especially not during one of the few classes he shares with Lana. “No, I didn’t,” you pause as you realize he’s leading you to your car and not his truck. “Am I driving?”

“Truck didn’t start this morning,” he tells you shortly, not bothering with any further explanation. You swear you saw him drive in this morning but you could be wrong. It’s not like he’s the only kid driving his dad’s old busted truck in this town. “I’ll drive, though, you won’t know where we’re going.”

“Ominous,” you snark as he takes your hand in his, directing you toward the passenger door. Gentle hands push you up against the side of the car and he ducks down, leaning into your space. You crane your neck up, flushing slightly at the proximity. Any closer and you could kiss him. 

“Well?” He questions softly, lips curling up in a half-smile that makes you want to melt. You blink, forgetting what you were doing before you notice his outstretched, open, palm. Swallowing thickly you take your keys out of your bag and place them in his hand. “Thanks,” he ducks down, soft lips pressed against your cheek before rounding the front of the car. 

Your hand drifts toward your cheek, a bewildered smile on your face as you try and regulate your breathing. “What the hell?” You mutter, shaking your head slightly. Turning around, you open the car door and slip into the passenger seat. 

Clark greets you with a grin, scooping your hand up in his as he pulls out of the school parking lot. You don’t want to think about the trouble you’re going to be in tomorrow, all you can focus on is how good Clark’s hand feels in yours. 

“I’m really starting to feel like I’m getting kidnapped,” you joke, head tilting to look out the window. The golden fields stretch endlessly, rolling past in waves as the car gets further from town. Houses become scarce, replaced by sprawling farmland and grazing cattle. The further you go, the more isolated you feel. 

Clark chuckles, but there’s something off about the sound, a slight wheeze, a strain where there wasn’t before. His face crumples and he turns away from you, his knuckles turn white around the steering wheel from his tight grip. 

“Are you okay?” You reach instinctively toward him but he jerks his hand back. You gasp, jumping back when you catch a glimpse of his face. It ripples, the skin shifting unnaturally, as if something beneath it is struggling to break free. 

“Oh no,” Clark groans, voice strained. His entire body spasms and his hands slip from the wheel. The car lurches violently to the side, tires screeching against the pavement. Panic surges through you, hands bracing against the door as you shout his name. 

He curls into himself, muscles seizing, leaving the car veering out of control. The telephone pole ahead rushes toward you, growing larger by the second. You throw yourself forward, grasping at the wheel, desperately trying to steer, but Clark’s foot slams against the gas instead of the brake. 

Everything happens too fast. A blur flashes in front of the windshield. Then, a sudden stop. Your body flies forward, arms bracing against the dashboard as your head whips forward and back, pain rattling through your spine. 

You whine in discomfort, slowly sitting up and trying to take in your surroundings. The passenger door is ripped open. You flinch, recoiling instinctively and sending a shock of pain down your body. Your breath stutters as someone ducks their head inside, a startling familiar pair of blue eyes find yours.  

“Clark?” You whisper, gaze flicking to the seat beside you where Clark still sits, doubled over, his breathing ragged. 

The Clark outside the car reaches in and gently pulls you out. Warm, calloused hands skate carefully over your arms and shoulders. He cups the back of your neck, tilting your head up, thumbs gently smoothing over your jaw as he looks you over. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” His voice is soft, thick with concern. His eyes briefly leave yours to double check you for any injuries he might have missed. 

Your heart pounds. This isn’t possible. You must be concussed. You blink rapidly still struggling to wrap your head around the whole two Clark’s thing when the second one stumbles out of the car. 

He steps are uneven as he rounds the fender, his entire body shaking. Your rescuer moves swiftly, placing himself between you and the other Clark. He shields you, broad shoulders tense, protective to a fault. Must be the real one. Right? You rub your aching head and frown. 

“What were you going to do with her?” The one in front of you barks the question out, his voice sharp and edged with something dangerous.

“I just,” the other one keels over, cutting himself off with a pained groan and shaking his head. “Wanted to get away,” he grits out through clenched teeth, forcing himself straight again. 

“And you had to take her with you?”

“What’s going on?” You jut in, stepping back from both of them. Facing them, you see the same wounded expression reflected on both faces. Whichever is the fake, he’s certainly mastered the puppy dog look. 

Your rescuer tries to take a step forward but you throw your hand up, keeping them both at bay until you know what’s going on. He sighs and glances over at his shoulder at the other one.  “How long have you been able to do this?” 

It's like they start a conversation in the middle and you’re completely lost.  “Last year, I never saw a use for it and it was too much of a pain. But then I realized,” he looks at you, face contorting. “You would never go for a guy like me. You couldn’t. You were too wrapped up in him,” he spits the word out with venom, nodding toward the Clark you know has to be the real one. 

“You love him and that stupid all-American smile.” He chuckles, but it breaks off into a groan as he doubles over in pain, clutching his stomach. He drops to his knees and moans through clenched teeth, clutching at his face as he folds over. The longer black hair shrinks to a dull brown, broad shoulders slimming as the clothes he wears hang loose on him.

The illusion shatters, “Oh, God, Blake?” You gasp out, taking one step toward him. He shakes his head and you stop as Clark grabs your elbow. You glance up at him but he just shoots you a soft look that has you rooted to the spot. 

“I’ve been in love with you since freshman year,” Blake chuckles, still sounding like every word hurts. “If only I figured it out earlier, it’s always going to be him. I never had a chance, did I?” His gaze flickers toward Clark before he collapses to the pavement. 

You both go running toward Blake. Pressing your trembling fingers to his neck, you let out a sigh of relief when you feel his faint heartbeat. 

“We need to get him to a hospital, fast.” You lean back from Blake, looking around for Clark’s truck, confused when you don’t see it. “Dammit, Clark, where's the truck?”

He flushes, shaking his head, “I didn’t bring it.”

You frown, “What’re you talking about?” 

He glances toward Blake, the rise and fall of his chest steadily slowing. When he looks back at you his expression is unreadable, an intensity to it that you’ve never seen before. “I need you to trust me.”

“Always,” you tell him without missing a beat. He gives you a small smile but it lacks the usual warmth. 

“Close your eyes.”

“What?” You glare at him but he just shakes his head. 

“Please,” he looks close to begging and the pulse under your grip is getting weaker. Swallowing down your confusion you close your eyes. “Thank you,” he whispers, “I’ll be back.”

You frown, feeling a rough breeze blow back your hair as your eyes shoot open. But the spot in front of you is empty and the body under your hand has disappeared. Getting to your feet, you spin in one slow circle. There’s nothing out here except golden fields, your totaled car, and you. All alone. 

Clark eventually came back for you. His truck rolling into view after being on your own for half an hour. You hadn’t talked to him the whole ride back to town, too shocked by everything that had happened. 

He carried the conversation for the both of you, offering a brief explanation that only confused you more. Blake had apparently been one of the meteor freaks, somehow being exposed to it when it had left a crater in your town. 

But Clark didn’t tell you how he made it across the highway and to the hospital in under five minutes with no car. He didn’t tell you anything that actually mattered. So, you told him to drop you off at home and you haven’t seen him in a week. 

Chloe had called you once during your self-induced isolation, just to tell you that she’d driven by Blake’s house. Apparently the entire place looked like it had been cleaned out. No sign of him or his parents anywhere. You wish you could say you care, but you don’t. You’re almost grateful he’s gone. Not only did he reveal your long held secret infatuation to Clark, he’d clearly had ill intentions as he tried to take you out of town. 

Your Nokia nearly buzzes itself off your nightstand as you set your book to the side and look at the all-too familiar contact.

Clarkie

The stupid nickname you’d given him in middle school lights up the small screen and you let out a rough sigh, watching as it rings and rings before finally quieting. The screen goes dark before lighting up once more as his ringtone fills the silence of your room. He doesn’t give up easily, you have to give him that. 

You’re not entirely sure you’re ready to face him. Not now that he knows about your feelings for him. There’s no hiding what Blake so plainly laid out for him. You sink into the comforts of the pillows on your bed and wonder if you could just live here forever. 

Something knocks against your window and you ignore it as nothing more than a branch from the tree. It’s not much longer before it happens again and you rip your hands off your face and are forced to sit up. Your phone rings once more and there’s a sinking feeling in your gut that you know exactly who waits outside your window. 

“You can’t hide forever,” comes an annoying cheerful voice from outside. You force yourself off your bed and slink toward your window. Sure enough, Clark waits below it, a boyish grin poised on his face as he looks up at you. As much as you’re avoiding him, it’s plain cruel to just leave him outside. 

Reluctantly, you open your window and he’s quick to climb your tree. You back up as he slots his broad frame through and into your room. He lets out a short huff of breath and straightens up, giving you a sheepish smile. 

Taking a seat on your bed, you find it a tad difficult to look at him. Clark sucks in a deep breath and grabs your desk chair. He straddles it, resting on the back of it and staring at you until you feel like he’s going to burn holes into the side of your face. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while.”

You hum and shrug, tucking a loose wave behind your ear. “I’ve been sick,” you lie, briefly looking up. The intense way he’s looking at you leaves you breathless and you have to take in a slow breath so your heart doesn’t kick up too much.  

“I want to tell you something.” Your head shoots up, concern lacing through you at the grave tone of his words. He looks away from you, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, actually, I want to ask you something first. Is, uh,” he chuckles a little and licks his lips, a nervous tick he’s never been able to kick. “Is all that stuff that Blake said true?”

Your stomach drops, burying your face in your hands, you let out a low groan. “Oh, god,” you suck in a sharp breath, unable to look at him as heat flushes through you. 

Lying is always an option. It’s a poor option, but it’s there. Maybe, if you just lied straight through your teeth he would drop it and leave you alone. But you’ve been hiding this for so long, tucked so tightly to your chest, it would be a relief to finally be unburdened of the truth. 

“Yes,” you whisper. You don’t want to look at him, don’t want to face the truth of his rejection. Clark has been your best friend since you could walk, losing him over this stupid crush would destroy you. 

The silence drags on for too long and you feel the anxiety calling its way around you. Warmth envelops your hands and calloused palms draw them away from your face. 

You peek one eye open to find Clark kneeling before you, a soft smile on his face. “You better not be laughing at me, Kent.”

A small chuckle slips through his lips and you slap at his shoulder. He catches your hand in his, lacing his fingers through yours. “I’m not, I promise. I wish you’d told me.”

“Why? So I could ruin our friendship faster?” You snark. 

“No, so I could do this,” he darts forward, soft lips capturing yours. You freeze up, eyes wide as his hand cups the back of your neck and pulls you closer. 

There’s a brief moment of shock where you’re completely frozen. But then you feel the way his thumb rubs soothing circles on the back of your hand. And you find yourself melting into the feeling of his embrace, eyes closing as you slowly open up to him. Your arms find their way around his neck, fingers burying themselves in the soft waves of his hair. 

The kiss itself is gentle, chaste almost. But it warms you from the inside out, makes you feel like you’re going to be nothing but a puddle of goo the longer he holds you. When he pulls back, he drags it out, lips lingering as long as they can. 

You’re slow to recover, eyes glazed over as you stare at him. He seems just as shocked, like he hadn’t expected to do that. Of course, you say the first thing that comes to mind instead of just shutting up and enjoying the moment. “What about Lana?” You blurt out, wincing the second it leaves your mouth. 

He frowns at you and shrugs, “What about her?”

“You’ve been blowing me off for months for her. We go to her shop every day just so you can stare at her. Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly discovered feelings for me. I won’t be your backup, Clark.”

He shakes his head vehemently, looking almost offended by the idea. “What? No. Of course you’re not,” he snaps, narrowing his eyes at you before sinking back on his heels with a huff. “Look, I wasn’t ditching you for her, I can explain all that,” he pauses and then quickly adds, “later.”

Your eyes narrow in suspicion and he reaches up, taking your hands in his. “There’s a lot I have to tell you. But the most important thing is that I am completely over Lana.”

“Really?” You question, tone harsh but bordering almost on teasing. “You look at all your friends like that?”

He shakes his head, “No,” he pauses, “just you,” he adds with a cheeky smirk. You roll your eyes and shake your head, looking away from him. “Whatever you thought you saw between us, it was only on her end. I swear, it’s been you for a long time.”  

You look away, but he’s not accepting that, tilting your chin to face him once more. “It’s always been you,” he murmurs, voice steady, certain.

Your breath hitches, heart stuttering in your chest. Maybe this is real. Maybe it’s been you that’s been the oblivious idiot. 

You take a deep breath, meeting his gaze head-on. “Then prove it.”

His smile is slow, confident, and this time when he leans in you don’t hesitate to meet him halfway.

end. — I do not own the characters or the TV Show Smallville, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © scribes-of-valar 2025. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[inseobts]

Love is a Disease?!

luffy x fem!reader

luffy keeps dreaming about you and ask chopper to cure him...

words count: 2.7k

tags: fluffy, sfw, soft, humour

masterlist || ko-fi

Luffy jolts awake, staring at the wooden ceiling of the Sunny’s sleeping quarters. His heart is pounding, his face is warm, and his lips are still curled into a goofy grin.

It happened again.

Another dream about you.

This time, you were sitting beside him on the deck, your laughter ringing in his ears. You looked happy, so happy that he could feel it deep in his chest, like sunlight spreading through his whole body. And then, right before he woke up, you had leaned in just a little too close, your breath tickling his cheek.

Luffy groans, rolling onto his stomach and burying his face into his pillow “What the hell is this?” he mutters.

It’s been happening for days. No, weeks. Every single time he sleeps, you’re there. Sometimes you’re just talking with him, sometimes you’re laughing, sometimes you’re standing too close and making him feel… weird. A good kind of weird, but also a confusing one.

He sits up abruptly, gripping his hat “This ain’t normal” he decides.

Something must be wrong with him.

Luffy storms into Chopper’s office, his arms swinging wildly “Chopper! Fix me!”

The little reindeer jumps, nearly knocking over a stack of medical books “What?! What happened? Are you sick?!”

“I think so!” Luffy exclaims, flopping onto the examination table like a dying man.

Chopper gasps, immediately switching into doctor mode “Where does it hurt? Do you feel dizzy? Are you gonna die?!” He starts pressing his hooves against Luffy’s forehead, checking for a fever.

Luffy grumbles “It’s not like that… It’s weirder.”

Chopper frowns “What do you mean ‘weirder’?”

Luffy hesitates. He doesn’t really want to explain it, saying it out loud just makes it sound dumb.

Chopper crosses his tiny arms “Luffy, I can’t treat you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong!”

Luffy groans, throwing his arms over his face “Fine! It’s my dreams!”

Chopper blinks “Your dreams?”

“Yeah!” Luffy groans again, louder this time, like he’s in pain “Every time I sleep, I dream about Y/N!”

Chopper tilts his head “…And?”

Luffy lifts his arms just enough to peek at Chopper “What do you mean ‘and’?! That’s gotta be some kind of sickness, right?!”

Chopper strokes his chin, thinking hard “Hmmm… are they scary dreams?”

“No.”

“Are they nightmares?”

“No! They’re nice!”

Chopper blinks again “…Then what’s the problem?”

Luffy sits up, frustrated “The problem is that I keep dreaming about her! Every single time I close my eyes!” He grabs Chopper’s shoulders and shakes him “Chopper, what if I caught a disease that makes me think about her all the time?!”

Chopper wiggles out of Luffy’s grasp, landing on the floor with a small thud “I’ve never heard of that before…” He rushes over to his bookshelves and starts flipping through pages. Luffy watches him, arms crossed, tapping his foot impatiently.

After a few minutes, Chopper sighs, rubbing the back of his head. “There’s nothing here about dreaming about someone too much.”

Luffy groans, tired “Then what do I do?!”

Chopper scratches his head “Uhh… maybe you should avoid y/n for a while? Just in case...”

Luffy gasps “In case of what? What?! That’s not a cure!”

Chopper huffs “Well, I don’t know what else to do! But if seeing her all the time in your dreams is making you feel weird, maybe staying away will help! If you don't see her maybe you won't dream abour her...”

Luffy pouts “That sounds stupid.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

Luffy doesn’t.

So he groans again, dramatically flopping back onto the table “Fine… I’ll try.”

That night, as he stares at the ceiling of his hammock, he tells himself that avoiding you will be easy.

Spoiler: It won’t be.

The next morning, Luffy’s grand plan begins.

Step one: Avoid y/n.

Simple, right? He just has to stay out of your way. No sitting next to you at meals, no talking to you, and definitely no falling asleep near you. Easy...

Or so he thinks.

“Luffy! Come help me carry these crates!” your voice calls from the deck.

His whole body freezes. You’re standing there, waving him over with a bright smile. Normally, he’d rush to help, no hesitation. But today? Today, he’s a man with a mission.

“Uh… I can’t!” he blurts out, spinning on his heel.

You blink “What? Why not?”

Luffy panics. He didn’t think this far ahead. He blurts out the first excuse that pops into his head.

“Because… um… I forgot how to carry things!”

Silence.

You stare at him, eyebrows raised “…You forgot... how to carry things?...”

“Yup!” He gives you a thumbs-up and then bolts in the opposite direction before you can question him further.

You watch him go, utterly confused “What the hell was that?”

Avoiding you turns out to be way harder than Luffy thought. You’re everywhere. Laughing with Nami, training with Zoro, helping Sanji in the kitchen. No matter where he goes, there’s a chance of running into you.

And Chopper, being the loyal doctor he is, decides to follow his advice too.

Which means he’s avoiding you too.

And both of them? They are horrible at it.

Every time you walk into a room, Luffy suddenly has “something important to do” and dashes off like his life depends on it. If you try to talk to Chopper, he lets out a nervous squeak and scurries away like a scared animal.

After a few days of this, you’ve had enough.

“Usopp” you huff, plopping down beside him “Something weird is going on with Luffy and Chopper.”

Usopp looks up from the gadget he’s working on “Weird how?”

“They keep avoiding me” You frown, crossing your arms “Luffy runs away every time I talk to him, and Chopper acts like I have the plague. Did I do something?”

Usopp snorts “Nah, if you did something, Luffy would just spill it. He’s a terrible liar.”

“That’s what makes it weird!” you groan “He totally avoids talking to me. He’s never acted like this before. Same goes for Chopper...”

Then you see Chopper, Luffy and Nami going out the kitchen and you norrow your eyes pointing them to Usopp "Look, they are there chatting normally. Now call them over here"

Usopp looks at you confused but interested, "HEY LUFFY, CHOPPER, I NEED YOU OVER HERE!! LOOK AT THIS" he yells showing them the thing he was working on until now.

The two look at him and their faces turn so excited to know about Usopp's new invention. This until they see you next to Usopp, then they both look scared...

"Oh sorry, I forgot I had something very important to do!!" Luffy says with a fake smile before running away.

Chopper looks at him and starts running behind him "LUFFY WAIT FOR ME!!"

In all this Nami shrugs in confusion and walks away.

Usopp turns back to you and taps his chin “Hmm… They’re hiding totally something, but what could it be?”

Your eyes narrow “We need to find out before I get crazy”

And just like that, a plan is born.

Later that day, Usopp corners Chopper in the infirmary.

“Oi, Chopper” he says casually, leaning against the wall. “What’s up with you and Luffy?”

Chopper nearly jumps out of his fur “W-What do you mean? Nothing’s up! Nothing at all!”

Usopp smirks. Terrible liar.

“Oh, really?” he presses “Because y/n thinks you guys are acting weird. And I agree.”

Chopper sweats “I-It’s not weird! We’re just… uh… busy!”

“Busy avoiding y/n?”

The poor reindeer lets out a strangled noise “N-No! We’re just—!”

He stops himself too late.

Usopp grins like a predator catching its prey “Ah-ha! So you are avoiding her.”

Chopper claps his hooves over his mouth “I-I didn’t say that!”

“But you did.” Usopp leans in “And now I gotta know why.”

Chopper squirms “I… I promised Luffy I wouldn’t say…”

“Ohh, so it’s Luffy’s problem?” Usopp’s grin gets wider “Now I really need to know.”

Chopper shakes his head rapidly “No! I-I can’t tell you! A doctor-patient relationship is built on trust!”

Usopp sighs dramatically “That’s too bad. Guess I’ll just tell y/n that you both hate her now.”

“WHAT?! No, we don’t hate her!” Chopper wails.

“Then why are you acting like she’s a ghost haunting the ship?”

Chopper hesitates. His little hooves tremble “I-It’s because… because…”

“…Because what?”

Chopper takes a deep breath. Then, in a panicked rush, he blurts—

“Luffy keeps dreaming about Y/N and thinks it’s a disease!”

Silence.

Usopp blinks “Wait. What?”

Chopper slaps his hooves over his mouth again.

“I SAID NOTHING!”

But it’s too late. Usopp already looks like he’s won the biggest jackpot in the world.

“Oh...” Usopp grins “Ohhhhhh, this is golden.”

Chopper gulps “P-Please don’t tell Luffy I told you—”

“Don’t worry,” Usopp says, slinging an arm around Chopper “I won’t tell him.”

Chopper sighs in relief.

“I’ll just fix the problem instead.”

And that’s way worse.

Usopp wastes no time.

He finds you on the deck, casually leaning against the railing, staring at the ocean with a frustrated pout. Clearly, you’re still confused about Luffy’s behavior.

“Y/N!” Usopp calls, throwing an arm around your shoulder like he’s about to tell you the best gossip of the century “Guess what?”

You raise an eyebrow “What?”

He smirks “Luffy’s been acting weird because of you.”

Your eyes widen “Because of me?”

“Yup.” Usopp leans in dramatically “Turns out, our beloved captain has been having dreams about you. Every time he sleeps.”

You blink “What kind of dreams?”

Usopp wiggles his eyebrows “You tell me.”

You roll your eyes “If this is another one of your dumb stories—”

“It’s not a story!” Usopp says, holding up his hands “Chopper accidentally spilled everything to me. Luffy came to him all panicked, thinking he had some weird ‘dream disease’ just because he keeps dreaming about you.”

You stare at him for a moment, processing. Then, realization hits.

“…Wait.” Your heart skips a beat “You mean—?”

“Yes bestie,” Usopp confirms, nodding smugly “Our dear, dumb captain is in love.”

Your brain short-circuits.

Luffy? In love with you?

You suddenly recall every weird interaction over the past few days. The way he’s been avoiding you, the way he stumbled over his words, the way he ran away from you yesterday. It all makes sense now.

You bite your lip, trying to contain the sudden warmth rushing to your face “So what do we do about it?”

Usopp grins mischievously “Oh, I have a plan already. Thank god I’m your best friend”

Later that evening, Luffy is minding his own business, stuffing his face at the dinner table, when Usopp slides into the seat beside him.

“Oi, Luffy,” he says casually, resting his chin on his hand “You free after dinner?”

Luffy, mouth full of food, nods “Mhm. Why?”

Usopp grins “No reason. Just wanna show you something.”

Luffy shrugs, too busy enjoying Sanji’s cooking to question it.

Big mistake.

Because the second he follows Usopp outside, he realizes something is off.

“Hey, where are we going?” Luffy asks, tilting his head.

“Just trust me,” Usopp says, leading him toward the front of the ship “It’s something cool.”

Luffy doesn’t think much of it—until he turns the corner and sees you standing there, arms crossed, waiting for him.

His entire body freezes.

Usopp immediately bolts in the opposite direction.

“W-Wait—!” Luffy starts to call after him, but the sniper is already gone.

The trap has been set.

And now, he’s alone with you.

Luffy swallows hard. He should run. He should stick to his original plan of avoiding you. But his legs refuse to move.

You step closer, eyeing him suspiciously “Luffy.”

He forces a grin “H-Hey, y/n!”

“Are you avoiding me?” you ask, cutting straight to the point.

His grin falters “W-What? No! Of course not! Why would I—?”

You raise an eyebrow “Usopp told me everything.”

Luffy panics.

“W-What? Pfft! No, he didn’t! He doesn’t even know anything!” Luffy waves his arms dramatically, laughing nervously “That Usopp, always making up stories! Haha! I don’t even dream! What even is a dream? I don’t—”

“Luffy.”

He shuts up instantly.

You sigh “You know you suck at lying, just tell me the truth.”

Luffy rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze “I, uh…”

You wait.

Luffy shifts uncomfortably. His heart is pounding, and he’s sweating bullets. Lying is so hard.

“…Okay, fine,” he finally mutters “I’ve been dreaming about you.”

You blink, surprised at his sudden honesty “…Every time you sleep?”

He nods.

You step closer “And it made you think something was wrong with you?”

Another nod.

You stare at him for a moment before breaking into a soft laugh. “Luffy… that’s not a disease.”

He pouts “It’s not?”

You shake your head, smiling “No, dumbass. It just means you like me.”

Luffy blinks “Like… like like?”

You roll your eyes “Yes, Luffy. Like like.”

For a moment, he just stands there, staring at you. Processing.

Then, realization hits him like a Sea King.

“…OHHH.”

You burst out laughing.

Luffy stares at you, completely dumbfounded “Wait, wait, wait—so I’m not sick?”

“Nope.”

“I’m just—” He points at himself “—in love”

You nod.

Luffy blinks. Then, suddenly, he grins.

“Huh. That’s kinda cool.”

You snort “That’s all you have to say?”

He tilts his head “Well, yeah. I mean… I like you. And you’re right here. So that’s good, right?”

Your cheeks warm “Yeah,” you admit softly “That’s good.”

Luffy beams. Then, without warning, he grabs your hand.

“Then let’s go tell the others!” he says cheerfully, already dragging you toward the dining area.

“Wait—what?”

“I gotta tell Chopper I’m not dying!”

You groan, but you can’t help smiling as Luffy excitedly pulls you along, already shouting for the crew.

Usopp, watching from a distance, smirks.

“Mission accomplished.”

Luffy bursts into the dining area with you in tow, grinning like he just found the biggest treasure in the world.

“Oi, everyone! Guess what? I’m not dying!”

The entire crew freezes.

Zoro, who was mid-sip of his sake, lowers his cup “Huh?”

Sanji looks up from the stove, cigarette dangling from his lips “I didn’t even know you thought you were dying.”

Robin chuckles, setting down her book “I assume this has something to do with y/n?”

Chopper, who had been sitting on the table, gasps in relief “You aren’t sick?! Oh, thank goodness! I was so worried—I thought maybe I misdiagnosed a new kind of illness!”

Luffy laughs, slapping a hand on Chopper’s hat “Nope! Turns out, I just like y/n!”

Silence.

Then—

“FINALLY!”

Usopp throws his hands in the air “I swear, if I had to watch you two dance around each other for another week, I was gonna lose my mind.”

Nami sighs, shaking her head “So that’s what all the weird behavior was about.” She smirks at you. “And? How do you feel about all this?”

You clear your throat, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. Your hand is still in Luffy’s, warm and firm, like he has no intention of letting go.

“I, um… I like him too, I've been obvious about it, he's the only one who was oblivous, am I wrong?” you admit.

The crew erupts.

Sanji dramatically clutches his chest “Nooooo! My sweet Y/N has been stolen by him?! Life is so cruel!”

Zoro snorts “Tch. Took you long enough, rubber idiot.”

Franky wipes a fake tear “Young love is so super!”

Brook laughs “Ah, my heart is about to explode by all this cuteness—oh wait, I don’t have a heart! Yohohoho!”

Luffy grins even wider, turning to Chopper “See? I told you it was something weird!”

Chopper crosses his tiny arms “You literally thought you had a disease.”

“Yeah! And now I don’t!” Luffy lifts your hand triumphantly “Now me and Y/N are together, so it’s all good!”

Your face heats up “I don’t remember agreeing to that part.”

Luffy tilts his head “Huh? But you like me, right?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Then we’re together!” he declares proudly, as if that’s how relationships work.

The crew laughs, and you groan, hiding your face in your free hand “I should’ve known dating Luffy would be exactly like this.”

Luffy just beams, completely unbothered “Dating sounds fun! Let’s do that!”

And honestly? Looking at his bright, happy face, you can’t even be mad.

[satinkizzes]

𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 - you trying to be dominant

CONTAINS, cho sangwoo, thanos, gi-hun, dae-ho, in-ho, jun-ho, salesman.

WARNINGS; porn with no plot, p in v, oral (f receiving), gun play, manhandling.

CHO SANGWOO;

You straddle his lap, pressing his wrists into the mattress with a sheepish smirk. His cock twitched inside you, and he let out a breath, tilting his head and looking at you with a small glimpse of confusion. "Stay still," vou whisper against his ear. For once, he's quiet, watching you with hooded eyes. But then, the corner of his mouth twitches, and before you can react, he flips you effortlessly.

Now he was on top, and slowly thrusted back into you, smirking down at you. "Cute," he murmurs, "but you know I don't like losing."

He loves it better when he was in control, using you to how he wanted. Who were you to decide how fast he pounded you into that mattress? How rough to go? No. He wanted full control. He reminded you of that by snapping his hips against yours mercilessly.

“You wouldn’t have been able to keep up anyways, darling.”

SEONG GI-HUN;

You push Gi-hun onto the couch, climbing over him with confidence. At first, he lets out a giggle, thinking you’re joking around. You’re used to just vanilla sex really, nothing too crazy, but you both still get satisfied.

His laughter dies as he realizes you're not joking. "Oh. Oh," he blinks, looking up at you with wide eyes. "Well, uhm, this is new?" He lets vou take control, but you can see his lips twitching like he's trying not to laugh.

"What?" you huff at him, sure, you were mad he wasn’t taking you seriously. But then, he grins, a toothy one, and leans up to places a kiss to your jaw.

"Nothing, I just... I think I like this.”

“Yeah?” You smiled, tilting your head as he left open mouthed kisses down your neck. He nodded, murmuring, “Well if you’re gonna act like this you gotta hurry up or I won’t last long.”

KANG DAE-HO;

You push Dae-ho up to the wall, hand on his jaw whilst you press your lips gently against his. He kisses you back, softly, until your hand starts trailing down his chest to his v-line, fingers pushing into his waistband.

A small murmur escapes his lips, and he breaks the kiss away slowly. He tries to pick you up, to take you over to the couch or the bed, but you grab his hand.

“Mm-mm.” You shake your head, looking up at him. He blinks down at you, lips parting. “What are you… doing?” He looked genuinely hurt actually, thinking you were turning him down.

You lean in, your lips ghosting over his jaw. “Taking control?” You said blatantly. You pulled him over to the bed by his shirt, and gently pushed him down, straddling his waist.

“Uh.. I- I don’t usually…” He says nervously, hands running up and down your sides. “Don’t usually what?” You ask, pushing up his shirt. “I don’t know. Let someone else take the lead?” He replied, rutting up into you in search of some friction.

“Then it’s about time you did.” You giggle, leaning down to trail kisses all the way to his stomach.

THANOS/CHOI SU BONG;

You push Thanos back against the nearest surface, gripping his chin to force his gaze on you. You couldn’t tell if it was the weed making you this bold, or the way his messy hair looked as he rolled up another joint. He raised an eyebrow, his usual cocky smirk on his lips. “Oh? What’s this?” he mused, with amusement.

“I’m taking control,” you murmur, pressing against him harder, feeling his cock start to twitch.

Thanos lets out a soft chuckle, but there’s something in his eyes. Curiosity, maybe even anticipation, or maybe it’s just his dilated pupils. “That so babe?” He tilts his head, his usual arrogance faltering just a little.

You trail your fingers down his chest, deliberately slow. “Problem with that?”

He exhaled, sharply, his hands flexing at his sides like he’s resisting the urge to grab you. His usual confidence seems to waver, just for a second. “No problem,” he mutters, voice a little rougher. “Just wondering how far you think you can get without me showing you how much of a little slut you are.”

“And if you’re gonna start doing all this shit, at least be good at it.” He said, his voice a tone of fake sweetness.

HWANG IN-HO;

You step closer, tilting your chin up to meet his unreadable gaze. "Sit down," you murmur, pushing lightly on his chest. You start to slowly unbuckle his belt, hands all over his waist.

His mask is off, and his lips curve in something dangerously close to amusement. "You're brave today.”he muses, a small smirk on his face as you start to work his length with your hands, gritting his teeth at the sudden touch.

"I don't recall asking for your opinion." His gloved hands grip your waist, and he lets out a shaky breath.

"Neither did I," he counters smoothly, a small smile looking up at you, trying to keep his composure.

HWANG JUN-HO;

You shove Jun-ho onto the bed, pinning him down with unexpected force. His brows lift, but his eyes stay burning into you. "You really think you can keep me here?" he asks, voice teasing. You smirk.

"Try me." He exhales sharply, his hands flexing at his sides.

Then, with zero effort, he reverses the position, trapping your wrists above your head.

"Nice try" he whispers, "but I'm a cop, sweetheart. Restraining people is my job." He starts to press kisses down your stomach, pulling at your shorts with one hand, the other holding your wrists.

Not even minutes later, you’re squirming under his mouth. “See. We both know you like it better like this, all opened up and pretty for me.”

SALESMAN;

You lean over the table, pressing a hand to his chest to keep him seated. His smirk deepens.

"Interesting," he muses. You tilt his chin up, your voice low. "No more games." It was more of a plead, not a demand, but you knew he’d see this as you being disobedient.

He chuckles, leaning in close, the gun in his hand caressing your jaw. "Oh, but this is my favorite kind of game.”

You let out a breath as he holds the back of your neck with his other hand, pulling your head back slightly. “You know trying to take control isn’t going to change anything, don’t you?”

The gun was being dragged down your body, all the way to your clothed cunt. You didn’t reply, but you knew the answer was yes.

[peacheeeliz]

030. my wife! (wc: 960)

“Okay, Sera, Jake, you'll stay in that little bunker over there,” Heeseung explains, referencing the small bunker built in the middle of the desert. “Roz and I will stay out here to keep Voodoo and Quix away, but if they get at least five blocks away, there's a level for you to pull that'll set off a good amount of TNT I set up.”

“A good amount of TNT?” You question, staring at the sandy bunker. “And we'll be safe from the TNT in there, right?” Heeseung's character stares at you without a word, his lack of answer leaving you on edge. “Your bunker isn't going to kill us, right?”

“Nooooo,” he says, voice pitchy as his character turns away slowly. “It'll be fine, I promise. There's nothing safer.”

“I highly doubt that,” you whisper to yourself as he goes on to continue more of the plan.

As Heeseung yaps away, Sunghoon's character turns to you. “Hey, I wasn't lying earlier. I'm here to protect you,” he says softly.

“Ew, can we keep the flirting to a minimum today?” Jake questions, rolling his eyes behind his camera. “This is a life or death situation. Now is not the time.”

“Oh, shut up,” Sunghoon lets out, huffing. “You're just jealous.”

“Yeah, I'm so jealous,” Jake continues. “So jealous that we're in the middle of a war and our allies are too busy flirting to listen to the plan.”

“The plan that will most likely kill us?” You say, laughing when he doesn't respond. “Yeah, something tells me being inside that bunker will be more dangerous than out here.”

“You guys have no faith in me,” Heeseung huffs, after finally realizing no one was listening to his explanation. “Maybe if you actually listened to me, you'd feel more confident staying in the bunker.”

“I really don't think it will,” you answer, shrugging – despite the fact he can't see it. Before he can retort, an arrow flies straight past your screen. “Oh fuck.”

Just over in the next biome, Sunoo and Taeyoung are standing in the tree line with their bows drawn. Sunghoon immediately turns back to you, “Go. We'll hold them back, alright?” He starts, ushering you towards the bunker. “And remember, if they get too close, pull that lever.”

“But we don't even know if it's safe for us,” you retort, but you still make your way towards the bunker with Jake.

“You'll be okay, baby, I promise,” he tells you. “Now go. Stay safe in there, okay?”

Your smile brightens at his comforting voice, but Jake is quick to pull you out of your trance as he calls you from across the desert. The two of you take your place in the bunker, watching as the chaos unfolds in front of you. Many shots fly across through the air, but the battle takes a while to get close and personal; and eventually, swords are drawn.

“Red Winter is coming!” Taeyoung calls out, targeting Heeseung and slashing his sword towards the older boy.

Jake's character slowly turns toward you, “What the fuck does that mean?” He asks quietly, and you can barely hold back your laugh. “This is a Minecraft series… What does that mean?”

“It means we're at war with theater kids,” you answer, laughing with the man. Your eyes find their way back to the fight outside, landing on Sunghoon as he crosses swords with Sunoo. The two draw closer and closer to the bunker, Sunghoon backtracking when he realizes just how low his health has gotten.

“Wait, wait, wait, Sera, look,” Jake exclaims, trying to show you just how close Sunoo was getting to the bunker. “You gotta pull the lever!”

“Me? Why do I have to pull the lever?” You question, furrowing your eyebrows. “Why can't you?”

“Because I don't wanna,” he says sheepishly, showcasing a nice toothy grin towards his screen. “Come on, if they get too close, they could kill us! You have to pull it.”

“Whatever, whatever,” you say, but you make your way towards the lever anyway. “If we die, I'm blaming you.”

“I can accept that,” he answers, making his character nod quickly. “Now go! He's right there with Roz” He pauses. “Wait, don't pull it. Roz is too close. It might get him, too.”

“I,” you take a deep breath. “Do you want me to pull it or not?”

“Don't pull it,” he says. Just then, an arrow is shot right into the bunker, flying right between your two characters. After a moment of silence, he speaks up again. “Okay, pull it.”

You roll your eyes and move your mouse to hover over the lever. Taking in another deep breath, you click, and everything happens in a flash. TNT explodes all around the bunker, and your hearts drop faster than you can even count, until YOU DIED is written across your screen. Your mouth falls wide open, eyes wide in disbelief as you stare at your screen in silence.

Meanwhile, Jake has a similar reaction, watching your character disappear as sand falls all around him. He lost a few hearts, but not nearly enough to kill him off. He's brought out of his trance when he hears Sunghoon scream, “My wife!”

At Sunghoon's outburst and the crash of thunder that rings through the sky, the four out in the desert to the giant hole in the sand. “No, no, no, no,” the man babbles, eyes wide as he reads the chat over and over again. How could he have let you die? He was standing there with all three lives left, and you were gone. In his state of shock, left unaware of his surroundings, Taeyoung takes his chance to attack.

Within seconds, the same YOU DIED screen shines across Sunghoon's face.

synopsis ⤏ popular youtubers team up on all new minecraft smp, quick to name themselves the "newly weds" after sunghoon gifts y/n a poppy. but will these romantic endeavors between the two just be "for the lore," or will feelings blossom?

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Handle With Care 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Summary: your work blurs the lines between professional and personal.

Note: I'm on a Bucky kick and can't stop myself.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The caller ID flashing on your dashboard display makes you groan. What the hell is Sam calling for? He should be patiently waiting at the venue.

You know even before you answer what the issue is. It's the same as it always is. It can never be about anyone but him.

"Wilson," you answer matter-of-factly, "I know I'm not late."

"Never are," he confirms. "It's not you."

"Oh, I know," you put your blinker on and check the traffic behind you, "you're really going to make me pull a U-ey."

"I know, I'm sorry. Again."

"You know, I never had another job where I had to make sure my co-workers got their asses out of bed," you spin the wheel and your tires squeal on the tarmac.

"Co-workers... dang, I thought we were more than that." You can hear his pout through the phone.

"Me and you, maybe," you drone.

"Hey, he's been trying," he argues.

"Yeah, I know. You think I don't try, Wilson?"

"Look, I'll make it up to you."

"You say that a lot," you shake your head at the road.

"Look, I gotta go. It's my big day," he intones.

"Please, do. Stop worrying about the old man." You insist. "Might not be in the job description, but I'll get it done. As always. See ya soon."

"See ya." He hangs up and your music comes back on. Not for long. You idle at a light and dial out another call.

Bucky's name flashes as you wait for a pick up. Of course, he can't be bothered. On this day of all. You sigh and try two more times as you get closer to his place. Nothing.

You get out and nearly trip out of the strappy heels. Wilson owes you indeed, for more than the personal house call. You teeter up over the curb and grab onto the railing. You climb the concrete steps and pound on the front door of the townhouse.

"Barnes," you holler through. "I know you didn't forget."

You hammer again. You only stop when your fist throbs. You shake out your hands and huff. You stomp and feel the skinny heel bend dangerously. Fuck.

You don't got the tech on you to unlock the keypad, looks like the old-fashioned way will do. You shift your clutch and pull out your nail file. Bastard. You better not break a nail for his reclusive ass.

You go around back and use the file to latch the kitchen window. You know Bucky is his own security but he really should get a proper alarm. You punch the screen in and grab the frame. You haul yourself into your waist and balance there, the ledge pressing on your stomach. The smell of coffee greets you in a bold waft.

You look up as Bucky leans his vibranium palm on the counter and watches you. You snarl and reach out. "A little help?"

He keeps his coffee to his lips and nears, grabbing your forearm to leverage you inside. Your knees touch the counter and you kneel there as you catch your breath. He lets go, watching you over the brim.

"You coulda knocked," he says.

"I did," you slip your legs out from under you. "Loud."

"I was in the shower."

"Great, at least you got that done," you chide.

"Coffee?" He offers as he points to the french press.

"Barnes," you warn with a point. "Please."

You stare at him. He's in a pair of sweats and a tee shirt. His slippers are the sort of plaid that you find in a nursing home. You hold back a growl.

"You know what today is."

"I don't think I should go," he grumbles.

"Are you serious? Don't be a sour puss--" A sudden white flash lands beside you and the rattling purr rumbles against your leg. You pause to pet Alpine as if she heard you deriding her breed. "Not you," you assure her.

"I don't want to ruin it--"

"Barnes, you can put a suit on and sit pretty," you push off the counter and your ankles turn to noodles as you barely keep from a sprain. "Look at me, all dressed up like a prize pig, so go put an apple in your mouth."

He rolls his eyes, "he doesn't need me--"

"Bull," you interject.

You march past him. This is how it is. You can deal with it on missions. That's just how it goes. Most men you work with are obstinate to the point of being another adversary on their own. But outside the job, it's a bit too much.

You go down the hall and slow. It takes a moment to get your bearings. You've never been much further than the front door. You ignore the clutter across the front room floor and charge upstairs.

"Hey, what're you doing?" Bucky stands at the bottom as you stomp up.

You don't answer him. You go into his bedroom. You stop and look around. The bed is made, possibly unslept in. The room doesn't look used much at all. You go to his closet and slide the door open. You find a pair of slacks and a jacket. Tie, shirt, all presentable enough.

He appears in the doorway. You lay everything on the bed.

"Get dressed," you demand.

"I'll call Sam--"

"No, Wilson is busy. It's his day. You wanna know how you're going to ruin it?" You approach him and cross your arms. "By going AWOL. Not today, Barnes. Now, get yourself together."

You strut out and shut the door. You stop outside and call through. "Five minutes."

You continues down to the stairs and idle there. You check your phone. You can make it. Easy. He just needs to get his ass in gear.

When the door opens, you turn to him. His tie is undone. You go to him and grab it, knotting it roughly, not that he would notice.

"You couldn't shave in the shower?" You huff.

"Hey, I can do it," he tries to bat you away.

"Then why didn't you do it twenty minutes ago?" He shrugs and you pull his tie straight. You tug his lapels and straighten his jacket. "And the rest." You flick your fingers toward his face.

He shakes his head and goes into the bathroom. He grabs his comb as you linger and you see him in the mirror dragging the teeth through his thick hair. It's to his collar now. You told him to get a hair cut. He never listens. Not your problem. Well, only for today.

"Damn..."

"Here," you dip into the bathroom and grab the comb. "Just--"

You reach for the tin of gel. You just need him to look somewhat presentable. You part his hair neatly and comb it back behind his head, moving around him to check nothing's out of place. He stares at the floor. You don't want to embarrass him but goddamnit.

"Okay," you pop the cap on and wipe your hands on the towel hanging in the loop. "Let's go."

His eyes stray to the wall and he mopes. You take a breath.

"Barnes, it's for Sam," you say.

"I know," he croaks and heaves. He lifts his head and puts his shoulders straight. "I'll do my best not to fuck this up."

[lostinlovingrevery]

Smutty Stuff About Logan: The Reckoning

pt 2 about Logan and cute (and maybe nasty) smut scenarios. Grab your vibrators folks

Logan definitely likes to make a mess. A big mess. He cums a lot, so messes are inevitable. But his kind of mess is the kind where he comes inside, or over your pussy and he just sits and spreads it all over, likes he's in a trance. It sends shocks through you every time his thumb rubs his cum over you clit and stuffs it into your cunt. Is he drooling?

You're on a mission. You and logan get put in a position where you won't be able to go anywhere for awhile. Logan thinks it's a great chance for some bonding. The next thing you know your suit is gonna and Logans been fucking you for two hours. Its when Scott finally clears you both that you have to both quickly get your suits back on and you gotta finish the mission with his cum leaking out. Hes very smug about it (such a perv)

hes big about his cum being on (or in) you in general. it's one of his many ways he likes to "claim" you

making breakfast together, it turns steamy. Now he's pouring whipped cream and syrup over you tits and belly and licking it off you.

He doesn't finished cleaning you when he desperately lunges to kiss you, his chest sticking to your messy body, food covering him. you guys just end up a bunch of lovesick horny fools with syrup and whipped cream. You take turns cleaning each other.

I think Logan wouldn't be a huge masterbater. I think he'd do it out of boredom. Maybe if he was pent up. He'd probably prefer the real thing. But when you come into his life, and you guys aren't sexually together yet- he's yanking his chain nearly every night to the thought of you. An animalistic instinct he just can't control bc if he doesn't get himself off to the thought of you he's going to pounce you (pls do Logan)

Mutual masterbation. You both sit across from each other (or your straddling him) and get off on watching each other. It drives Logan insane. The rule is that you don't touch each other during the session but Logan always breaks that rule

I think Logan has potential to be a peeping tom. He wouldn't do it right away, it starts when you shower and he walks back the bathroom, the doors cracked bc you forgot to shut it- and he catches you in the mirror. You didn't see him.

He's now in his room desperately getting himself off because he's picture you naked hundreds of times but then he just saw a nice view of your tits and they're even better than he imagined

It's not how he imagine he'd get to see you, but he'll take what he can get. Now he searches in moments he could catch a look at you.

One night he catches you masterbating in your bed. You're moaning his name. He could smell your arousal. He nearly blacked out

His claws will pop out at sudden things that arouse him. You're planning to go to the beach, and he sees you in a bikini for the first time. He spots you and snikt! They're out. He didn't even notice, too busy staring at the way you tits looked in that top.

I'm currently writing a fic over this BUT, you don't like alcohol, but when you taste it on Logans lips/tongue, you can't get enough. you quickly discover you really like alcohol, but only when logans spitting it in your mouth.

you gift Logan naughty polaroids. Some are of you scantily clad, others are you just straight nude in sexual positions. He keeps one inside his coat pocket. It's not just cause it turns him on, but he deadass thinks you look so damn beautiful in your natural state. He just gotta be careful of where he is when he looks at it.

Sucking on Old Man Logans dick, you drooling and your eyes are hazy. he tastes so good, and feels so good on your tongue. He's praising you for being a good girl, telling you he's all yours, to enjoy as much as you want. He wants you to get sloppy, to suck on him and forget about everything else. You've made him cum multiple times already, and you're still sucking on him, even as he's soft and gets hard again.

Trilogy Logan ravishing you over and over again. It's been a stressful week, and he suggested you both get away from the mansion the weekend. You got a hotel room- and haven't left the bed other than to use the bathroom, and take a nice romantic (and sexual) bath with Logan. Hes putting you in positions you didn't even know was possible, pounding into you with an animalistic fury, stuffing you full of cum. you should probably consider getting plan b (unless you want a baby)

Having an argument with Worst Logan and you say something that implies that you worried about logan really caring about you, a discreet and quiet anxiety you never told him. Of course, it pisses him off and he has to show you how much he loves you. Which involves hot, rough, and sensual sex. he's fucking you and making you tell him that he loves you and that you believe it over and over.

Riding DOFP Future! Logans lap, after he woke back up in this new life. Hes been begging you to keep riding him, to keep fucking him. Kissing you sloppily as you ran your hands through his hair. You were busy grading papers, but Logan stormed into your office and practically yanked you into your bedroom. he found you, his pretty wife that he lost before he fixed things. Safe to say, reunion sex is fun.

70S! DOFP fucking you in an alleyway by the bar you two were in. "You looked too damn good in there baby. All those boys making eyes at you. Gotta make sure you know you're mine." he moans as he buries himself deep inside you, practically lifting you into the air against the wall

Watching Origins Logan chop wood from your pretty little log cabin. You get an idea, taking off all your clothes and standing on the porch, ass naked and waiting for him to notice. His face is concentrated, a cigar hanging off his lips. He just looked so hot, and you found it funnier the Logan he went not noticing your naked figure. When he finally looked up, the cigar hung off his parted lips almost comedically, before falling as he dropped the axe to his side, and he made his way to run after you, throwing you over his shoulder and bringing into the house as you shriek with laughter. He makes sure to make up for the lack of attention he gave you by stuffing you full of him and eating you out for hours

Having sex on Logans motorcycle. You're riding together when Logan pulls off suddenly, somewhere private. he gets you to sit in front of him, pulling your pants (or your skirt) down. The motorcyle still rumbling he makes you lean down so you could feel the vibrations of it, while he fucks you. Lets just say you don't last long- but logans not ready to stop.

Logan certainly doesn't want you to hurt or be in pain, but a certain amount of pride does hit him when he sees you walking around with shaky legs

This man can eat pussy for days. He'll get lost in you, licking and sucking and licking over and over. You'll have to push him off multiple times before he's done

I did my Logan variants BUT riding around with old man Logan in his car. Your legs across his lip. He's got one hand on the wheel, the other massaging your ankles and feet. He made you feel good, so you move around and give him a handjob and a blow. He pulls over, making you get into his lap and ride him- because he can just never get enough of you

Thigh jobs.

Tit jobs

nuff said

Actually no

Logan gets so damn excited when you offer one of those. Something about being able to fuck a body part that's not technically fuckable

this man would get himself off on every part of you if you'd let him

yes, armpits, elbows, knees included. hes insatiable. and gross. but thats why we love him. keep being a freak baby, i'll be a freak with you

anyway, he's fucking your thighs and you're watching as his tip appears and disappears, his precum soaking your thighs, he cums and shoots it all over your belly.

with titjobs, hes sitting over you, thrusting his cock between your wet tits. he spit all over them to lube everything up. his cum lands all over your face and open mouth

Tying each other up? Yes pls

Logan definitely loves it. Tying you up, having his way with you. I mean, he's strong enough to pin you down of course, buuuut something really fun about watching you be helpless to him

and vice versa

logan doesn't have much self control with you, so tying him up can prove difficult. he ends up breaking through the ribbons, rope, handcuffs- etc to grab you and fuck into you

you finally figure it out though, the way to make him behave

you grabbed his box of prized cubans. expensive, rare. he only smokes them on special occassions. you had him tied up, and blindfolded, taking off the blind fold- you told him the rules

"no touching. no breaking the ropes. if you do, I destroy each one of these."

Logans face fell as he saw his prized cigars. okay, maybe you both knew you really wouldn't...would you?

logan couldn't risk that

powerplay is fun

cue the most torturous session logan has every experience. he swears he'd rather have adamantium bound to his organs this time than what you're doing to him

you're playing with him. like a cat who caught a mouse. your messing with him, edging him, depriving him of your sweet pussy. an hour of sensory play. another hour of edging. He's not sure if he can take it anymore. surely he can find another box of cubans...

but then you reward him for being such a good boy. lots of praise. lots of riding and sucking. lots of kisses. when he finally gets to cum he's begging and thanking you for it

now he's starting to see why you like him being so dominant

you had your fun though. next time, he's putting you through worse :)

that's all folks! I'll make a pt 3 soon, i just got a few other fics i wanna focus on ;)

[morgana-larkin]

Alright, here’s the arrival of part 3 of “Just Tired”. I’m so glad that there’s been so much interest in this series! I’m wanting to make this series as realistic as possible for someone going through it as I still struggle with the trauma for when I went through it, even though I escaped him at the end of 2021. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I was listening to Angel Eyes by ABBA as it seemed fitting lol. Would have posted this earlier but I was watching the chiefs get their asses handed to them. Go Birds! 🦅

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Just Tired -Part 3

Warnings: Manipulation relationship, small masturbation part, Melissa going through some confusion

Words: 3.75

You awake at 5am to your alarm going off and you shut it off before you get ready. You hop in the shower and in there you can’t help your mind drift to Melissa and how beautiful she looks, even when she was downright ignoring you.

“Stop it, mind! She’s married.” You remind yourself. But that doesn’t stop your hand from wandering down to your clit and start circling it.

You lean against the shower wall and close your eyes as you picture Melissa being there. You imagine how her lips would feel all over you, how she might make you come. Would she want to use her tongue or her fingers or even a strap? You honestly wouldn’t say no to any of those if she was asking. You then feel yourself right at the edge and you start circling faster and then you come. You quickly have your shower and then you get ready and leave at 6:30. You walk up to her house at 6:58 and you knock on her door. She opens the door a few seconds later and she takes your breath away.

“Hey Y/n, just gotta grab my things then we can go.” She says and you nod.

“Alright.” You say and then take a step back and watch as she gathers all her things. When you step back you notice her ‘Go Away!’ welcome mat and you snort. “Nice mat.” You tell her as she steps outside and she smiles.

“It’s to ward off unwanted visitors.” She says as she locks the door.

“Does it work?”

“Most of the time, yes.” She says and you both walk to her car. “Apparently it doesn’t work on family.” She adds and you smile.

“Good to know.” You tell her. “So you giving me rides, does this make us acquaintances?” You ask her and she looks at you before starting the car.

“No, this is me just helping someone in need, and I’m not going out of my way to help them.”

“So you have a heart then.” You say and she rolls her eyes at you before bringing the car onto the street. “So is the husband not up?” You ask her and she shakes her head.

“He doesn’t get up until another half hour. He doesn’t have to be at the fire station until 9.” She tells you.

“He’s a firefighter?” You ask her and she nods.

“Yep.” She says and you take your phone out and go on your social media. You look up Melissa on Facebook and then you click on the name where it says who she’s married to and see a picture of him.

“And what exactly do you see in this… Joe?” You ask her and she looks at you quickly before turning her attention back to the road.

“Did you just look at my account?” She asks.

“Obviously. But what exactly do you see in him? I mean there’s ones much better looking than him.” You tell her and she quirks an eyebrow at you. “I’m gay not blind.” You tell her and she snorts.

“We met in college and he was really nice to me. He kept talking to me, giving me gifts that he knew I’d like, listening to what I say, wanting to spend all his free time with me, even before he asked me out.” She tells you and two words come to your mind when she says this, love bombing. You don’t say anything as it’s not your place and it was probably like over 20 years ago and you’re sure things are different now.

“So why are you so closed off?” You ask her to change the subject.

“You ask a lot of questions, you know that?” She asks.

“I don't normally, only when something catches my interest.” You say and she quirks an eyebrow at you.

“And I caught your interest?” She asks and you nod.

“You seem like an interesting person, and you wanting to say nothing about your life only makes you more interesting. You’re a mystery.” You tell her.

“And I like to remain a mystery.” She tells you.

“You know I could probably just ask Barb questions about if I really want, I mean you two seem close.” You say.

“Barb and I have been best friends for over a decade and she knows I like my privacy. She won’t tell you a thing.” She says to you and you lean back in the seat and pout.

“Are we close enough for me to at least know your favourite colour?” You ask her.

“It’s pink.” She says and you give her a weird look. “What?”

“The badass of Abbott likes pink? I would have never guessed that.”

“What’s wrong with pink?”

“It’s seen as a colour for little girls, especially when Barbie came out.” You explain.

“Alright, what colour do you like?” She asks.

“F/C.”

“Ok, interesting.” She says as she pulls up into the parking lot of Abbott and then you both get out and walk into the building.

*In the break room*

“I’m telling you that I saw Melissa purposely go up and start talking to Y/n. And not only that but it seemed like there was some attraction there as well.” Janine tells Jacob.

“It doesn’t matter for Melissa if there’s attraction, she’s married to a nice ma… she’s married.” Barb tells them. “She has never cheated on him and she doesn’t intend to. And has never thought about leaving him either…even though she should.” Barb adds and she gets a weird look from Janine and Jacob.

Just then you and Melissa both enter the break room and everyone looks at you both.

“What are youse looking at?” Melissa asks them.

“This is the third day where you get here at the same time.” Jacob says as you go to sit down with him and Janine.

“We just end up getting here at the same time. Is that a crime?” You ask them.

“Ok what about yesterday? I saw Melissa and you talking and smiling.” Janine asks you.

“Janine, what exactly are you asking?” You ask her and cross your arms.

“Is there an attraction between you two?” She bluntly asks. “You have mentioned you’re into hot older gingers and Melissa fits that.” She adds.

“Ok, first of all, Melissa and I were talking about our job yesterday as she was nice enough to give me pointers. Second of all, yes Melissa is a hot older ginger but she’s married and we’re not even acquaintances as Melissa very clearly told me that she barely talks to newbies.” You tell everyone and they shut up after that.

“So what pointers did Melissa give you yesterday?” Janine asks after a couple minutes.

“She told me to not do my lesson plan so far in advance and expect to fall behind, don’t be too stressed that it’s my first year of teaching on my own and she generously took a look at my first week lesson plan and said it was good and the kids will enjoy it.” You tell them and you weren’t lying as Melissa did actually tell you all those things.

“Melissa, you gave her that advice?” Barb asks her and Melissa nods.

“I don’t like communicating with newbies but the kid looked like she was gonna have a panic attack, I wasn’t gonna sit by and do nothing.” Melissa tells her.

“Oh Janine and Jacob, would you help me hang a few things that require 2 people?” You ask them and they immediately nod.

“As long as it’s not on a ladder.” Janine says and you nod.

“You’re not climbing a ladder, it’s not high.” You tell her.

Melissa watches from her desk as you and Jacob hang some stuff up and Janine directs you both to make sure it’s straight. Melissa’s mind starts to wander. She doesn’t know why but you seem to have caught her interest a bit. Her telling you her husband doesn’t forgive her just honestly slipped out and she doesn’t why she said it. Of course her husband forgives her every time. And then she tries to remember when was the last time he said he’s sorry and she can’t remember.

“I’m telling you it’s straight.” She hears Janine says.

“It doesn’t look straight to me.” She hears you counter. She then gets up and leans against her doorframe with her arms crossed. She sees you and Janine a few feet away from her and you’re looking at your board.

“You two are loud.” She says and catches both of your attention.

“How about we ask Melissa?” You tell Janine.

“No, she’ll just side with you as you’re friends.” Janine counters.

“Ya, we’re not friends.” Melissa says and goes to stand beside Janine and looks at the board. “And it’s not straight.” She says and sees you sticking your tongue out at Janine. “It’s a little high on the left.” She adds and then goes back to her door. “Try to keep it down this time.” She says and then walks inside her classroom.

At lunchtime she gets there before anyone else does and takes a few seconds to decompress as she gets her salad out. Everyone else comes in about a minute later and Barb gets her lunch and sits down and immediately notices Melissa is looking stressed.

“Are you alright?” Barb asks her.

“Ya, just a headache.” Melissa says softly.

Barb knows that she’s lying. But she also knows Melissa enough to know that she’s not ready to say anything and she’ll tell her when she is ready.

“Want some ibuprofen?” You ask since you heard as you were at the coffee maker. “I always carry some as I can get some painful cramps when menstruating. And that’s probably too much information.” You immediately say and it gets Melissa to crack a smile.

“It’s not that type of headache, but thanks hon.” Melissa tells you and you nod.

“Want some coffee? New batch is ready.” You offer and she nods and gives you her coffee mug.

“Thanks kid.” She says as you hand her the mug back with coffee.

“Y/n, do you have any plans this weekend?” Janine asks you as you join her and Jacob at the table.

“Probably just watch the game, I hope the Eagles hand the cowboys their asses.” You say and you don’t notice Melissa smiling at that comment.

“What about you?” You ask her and she goes into some detailed plan about what her and Tariq are doing this weekend.

When lunch ends, you all get up to go but Melissa stops you and Janine.

“Just wanted to let you both know that around February is when I do this Peter Rabbit art project with the kids and each of your second graders can join as well.” She says to you both.

“Oh that sounds exciting. What do they usually make?” You ask her.

“A rabbit face from paper plates.” She says.

“Oh that sounds fun, definitely count my class in as it sounds exciting. Y/n is your class going to join?” Janine asks.

“Definitely count my class in as well, they’ll enjoy that.” You tell Melissa and she nods before she goes back to her classroom.

At the end of the day, you pack up your things and you head out the door and you run into Jacob and Janine and you have a conversation with them for a few minutes before they both head to their cars. You start to head to the bus stop when Melissa stops you.

“My car is the other way.” She tells you and you turn around to face her.

“I didn't know how long your offer was by driving me home.” You tell her.

“Until you can get gas in your car.” She says and you smile before following her to her car. You both don’t notice everyone watching you both as you get in Melissa’s car.

“Thanks again.” You tell her as you do up your seatbelt and she pulls out. “So how long have you done the Peter Rabbit project for?” You ask her.

“Since I started working here, almost 15 years ago.” She tells you. “By the way, do you really think I’m hot?” She asks you and you furrow your eyebrows. “You told Janine that in the break room this morning.” She clarifies.

“Well of course you are. You honestly don’t need all that makeup.” You tell her and you see her smiling and a hint of a blush on the cheek that you see.

Melissa gets home a few minutes after dropping you off and she immediately goes to the kitchen for a glass of wine. She takes a deep breath after she takes a few sips and puts her head in her hands. She keeps getting compliments and praises from you and she doesn’t know how to react. She then realises that it’s been awhile since she received any from Joe and a tear slips down her cheek but she quickly wipes it off.

“Don’t cry, I’m not sensitive.” She tells herself and takes a big sip of her wine.

She has 2 glasses of wine and ends up falling asleep on the couch. When Joe gets home, he leaves her be and goes to reheat leftovers and watches tv in the bedroom. Melissa gets home a couple hours later and immediately goes to eat. After she eats she hears the tv on upstairs and goes to see Joe.

“Finally awake?” Joe asks her and she nods her head.

“You could have woken me up.” She tells him.

“I wanted to watch tv by myself anyway without being asked for cuddles or any kisses.” He tells her.

“I’m sorry, I know sometimes I might be too needy and I’m trying not to be.” She tells him and she goes downstairs to watch tv by herself.

She falls asleep on the couch again and wakes up around 4am. She gets her phone out and sees that it’s dead so she charges it as she makes breakfast. She eats and then she puts some in a container for Joe when he gets up. She gets ready for work and then she goes outside a few minutes early and sees you pull up on your bike.

“I woke up late but I don’t remember biking being this tiring.” You tell her and she shakes her head at you.

“You can leave it in the backyard for now.” She tells you and you nod. You come back out a couple minutes later and you get in the car.

The car ride this time was pretty quiet as you tried to make conversation but wasn’t getting replies. She pulls up 10 minutes later and you both get out and walk inside. This time you actually don’t head to the break room, you turn into your hallway and head to your classroom instead. It takes Melissa about 30 seconds to notice as she was in her own world and wanted to question you but you were too far ahead.

“Did you and Y/n not arrive at the same time today?” Barb asks her.

“No, I saw her come in, she went to her classroom for whatever reason.” Melissa explains.

“Interesting thing yesterday, I saw her get in your car when we were all leaving for the day.” Barb says and everyone looks at Melissa.

“Oh, well that’s none of youse businesses.” Melissa says. Right after she says that, you walk in and you head straight for the coffee machine.

“Y/n, we all saw you go in Melissa’s car yesterday.” Janine immediately tells you and you shrug.

“Cool.” Is all you say and pour yourself a cup and head back to your classroom. Janine and Jacob sensed something must be wrong and follow you out.

“So Melissa, now that we’re alone, want to tell me what’s happening?” Barb asks Melissa.

“On Tuesday I saw Y/n on the side of the road in my neighbourhood and she said she ran out of gas. I’ve just been giving her rides as she lives like a minute away from me, that’s all.” Melissa explains.

“Well that’s nice of you.” Barb says and really looks at Melissa. “Is something wrong?”

“What do you think of Joe?” Melissa asks her and Barb tilts her head.

“What do you mean?”

“Well Y/n has actually given me compliments in the week she’s been here, more compliments than Joe has given me in the past year. So what does that say?” Melissa asks her.

“That Joe doesn’t give compliments.” Barb simply says. “Melissa, I’ve given my opinion on Joe many times over a decade ago and you always gave reasons why I was wrong. I stopped trying as you kept defending your marriage with him.”

“Well you never had a lot of nice opinions about him but you never knew him like I do.” Melissa states.

“You’re right, I don’t. And I hope he’s changed since then.” Barb says and goes back to her cup of coffee.

*Your classroom*

“So you went on a date 2 months ago with a girl, but stayed friends and she invited you to watch the game at a bar this weekend?” Janine says and you nod.

“I thought like everyone else that she’d just forget me and we’d never talk again.” You tell them.

“So you have a new friend, what’s the problem?” Jacob asks you.

“She’s a little crazy.” You tell them. “I’m just hoping that after the game, she never wants to speak to me again.” You add.

Melissa gets to her classroom and sees your door is closed but can see Jacob and Janine standing near your desk from the little window on the door.

The morning goes by quickly for Melissa, and before she knows it, it’s lunchtime and she heads to the break room and gets her lunch.

“So I was notified this morning by a parent of one of my students that I’m getting.” You say to Janine and Jacob.

“And what did they want?” Janine asks.

“They wanted to let me know that they tested their daughter over the summer and apparently this kid is dyslexic.” You tell them and that catches Melissa’s attention and she turns around to look at you.

“Do you know how to teach a dyslexic child?” Melissa asks you and you shake your head.

“No, but I could just google some ways to help her.” You tell her and she nods and goes on her phone.

You go to your classroom and an hour later Melissa walks in and closes your door behind her and walks up to your desk where you’re arranging some papers.

“Melissa, what can I-”

“Can you switch the dyslexic kid over to my class?” She asks you and you tilt your head.

“Why?” You ask her.

“I can help her better.” She states and you furrow your eyebrows.

“Look I know I’m new but I’m pretty sure I’m not an idiot.” You say and she sighs.

“It’s not about you being new, it’s the fact that you can’t relate to her.” She says and the gears in your head are turning until it dawns on you.

“You’re dyslexic?” You ask her and she nods.

“I haven’t had a student who’s dyslexic and I feel like I can help her the same way that I was.” She says and you smile.

“Of course, want to go to the principal to make the transfer right now?” You ask her and she looks taken back.

“Wait, you’re not going to say no?” She asks and you shrug.

“Since you’re dyslexic then you might be the best teacher to help her.” You tell her and you go to your door. “Come on, let’s go see Principal Coleman.” You say and she follows you to Ava’s office.

“What do you two want?” Ava asks you.

“We want to transfer a student from my class to Melissa’s class.” You tell her and she rolls her eyes before she gets to one of the women in the office and you follow her.

“Can you do a classroom transfer?” She asks her and the woman nods. “She’ll help you with that.” Ava tells you both and you nod.

“Thank you.” You say and you and Melissa get the transfer done. “I’ll also send you the email that the parents sent me. They said a couple ways that they’ve noticed have helped her.” You tell Melissa on the way back and she nods.

“Ok, thank you.” She tells you and you nod.

“I’ll also notify the parents and tell them about the transfer.” You tell her and she nods. “Do you mind if I tell them that you’re dyslexic as well?” You ask her.

“No, that’s alright. It’ll probably make them happier that their daughter’s teacher has the same thing.” She says.

“Alright, I’ll forward you the email right away.” You tell her and go inside your classroom.

Melissa receives the email a few minutes later and sees the ways to best help her and writes it down.

She goes through the rest of what she needs to get done and finishes about an hour before the day ends. She stays on her phone for the rest of the day and waits a few minutes for you in the parking lot.

“You waited for me?” You ask her as she’s leaning against her car.

“Well I offered you rides, plus your bike is at my place.” She says. “I’m gonna drive to my place and you can bike home.” She tells you and you nod.

“Sounds good.” You say.

Melissa drives you both to her place and you go to get your bike right away.

“Hey Melissa.” You say as you come out with your bike and she looks at you. “I can probably actually just bike to and from school.”

“You ran out of breath biking for like 5 minutes. How are you going to survive for another 30 minutes?” She asks you and you shrug. “Mm, I’ll see you Monday at 7.” She tells you and then goes inside. You put your helmet on, get on your bike and start biking back home. Melissa watches from the window as you leave and she sighs. “What the fuck am I doing?” She says out loud and goes to get some wine and chocolate.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

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Let me know if you want to be added!

[hy6erion]

I am back and with another artist reader x JayVik ask!! The ask abt reader drawing em naked rly sparked some inspiration >:))

I was wondering if you could do artist reader drawing JayVik getting each other off? (Doing the do, the devils tango, uh,, sex)

I just think it’d be delicious to make them stop mid fuck cause you gotta draw em in a specific pose

Also, if u could make reader maybe more dominant that would be very appreciated!! I feel like Jayce and Viktor could go either way here (both submissive, one dom one sub, maybe both switches(??)) but I just prefer dominant reader inserts :))

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑 - 𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐕𝐢𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✰⍣..𝐲/𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐬 𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲- 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦.

⇢ 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲/𝐧, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭, 𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢, 𝐬𝐮𝐛! 𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫, 𝐝𝐨𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥, 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠/ 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐥, 𝐦/𝐦/𝐟 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜 (𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬)

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 (𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞)

It was obscene, the way they fit together like this.

Jayce, broad and ruined, sprawled against the pillows, body straining under the weight of Viktor above him. And Viktor-delicate but devastating, perched in Jayce's lap, thighs spread wide, lips kiss-bitten and panting.

Y/n had been content to watch. Until inspiration struck.

She stretched, lazily, dragging a hand down the sheet covering her legs before finally speaking.

"Hold that pose."

It took them a second to register.

Viktor went still first. His chest still heaving, skin flushed, but his brows furrowed, mouth parting slightly. Jayce, though-he was slower to catch up, still rutting helplessly into Viktor's body, hands tightening on his thighs, entirely too lost in it to—

"Jayce," Y/n said smoothly, her voice warm but unyielding. "I said hold it."

His body locked up instantly.

Viktor let out a breathless, incredulous laugh. "Oh, you cannot be serious."

Jayce groaned. "She's serious."

Y/n smiled, reaching for her sketchbook.

"Mm. Very serious."

Jayce let his head fall back against the pillows, looking personally betrayed.

"You're actually insane."

"And you're actually gorgeous like this," she countered, flipping to a blank page.

"So stop whining and let me work."

Jayce whimpered.

Viktor, the absolute traitor, smirked as he settled against Jayce's lap, rolling his hips-barely, just enough to tease, enough to make Jayce's fingers twitch against his skin. "I think she enjoys this."

Y/n smirked right back. "You're both enjoying this."

Neither of them denied it.

Her charcoal moved in long, confident strokes, capturing everything-Jayce's tension, his arms trembling where they held Viktor, the way his fingers flexed against pale thighs like he was dying to move but wouldn't dare without permission. The way Viktor's back arched slightly, hands braced against Jayce's chest, lips parted like he was waiting to be kissed.

They were a masterpiece.

Jayce shifted, barely a twitch, but enough to catch her attention. His breath hitched. "Y/n, please-"

She paused.Jayce swallowed hard.

Y/n tilted her head. "Please what?"

Jayce's throat bobbed. "Please let me move-"

She hummed, tapping the edge of the charcoal against her chin as she considered. "Hmm. I don't know. You look good like this. Desperate. Obedient."

Jayce whined, head falling back against the pillows.

Viktor chuckled, dragging his fingers over Jayce's chest in slow, taunting motions. "I think she likes us suffering."

Y/n grinned. "You say that like it's a secret."

Jayce groaned, thrashing slightly, but Viktor held him down, smirking.

"You love this," Viktor murmured, raking his nails down Jayce's stomach, watching him tremble.

Jayce's fingers twitched, his restraint crumbling. "You are both evil-"

"Oh, poor you" Y/n murmured, setting her sketchbook aside. She slid off the pillows, crawling over him, watching the way his breathing stuttered as she hovered just above him. "You love it."

Jayce's lips parted.

Viktor smirked above him. "Very."

Jayce barely had time to breathe before Y/n kissed him hard, sinking her fingers into his hair, dragging her nails against his scalp until he whimpered into her mouth. His hands twitched, but he didn't move, still obeying her earlier command.

Y/n grinned against his lips, pleased.

Then she pulled back and tilted Viktor's face to hers instead, kissing him slow, deliberate, until his hands shook against Jayce's chest. Until his hips jerked forward, unthinking, chasing more.

By the time she pulled away, they were wrecked.

And they were hers.

[chrisstvrns]

𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐦𝐞: 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐱 | 𝐜.𝐬

warnings: not proofread, fluff of chris painting his daisy on madisons wall :)

word count: 1k

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six

it had been three weeks since chris told you he was moving back to boston, and now the triplets were nearly fully moved back. they had to move a few more boxes, and then? they were back. full time. right now, you and the triplets were in madisons nursery, white and yellow paint cans scattered on the floor. chris was leaning over her crib, dragging white paints along the wall. 

chris paused for a moment, stepping back to assess his work. the daisy was still a rough outline, but the petals were coming together nicely against the soft pink background. his brows furrowed in concentration, lips quirking into a faint smile despite the paint smudged across his cheek.  

“you sure you don’t want me to just stick to solid colors?” he asked over his shoulder, his tone teasing but cautious, like he still wasn’t sure how much room he had to step into this part of your life.  

you shook your head with a laugh, sitting cross-legged on the floor, organizing madison’s tiny clothes into neat piles. “you’re doing great, picasso,” you joked, though your chest tightened at the surreal sight of him here—fully present, fully involved.  

chris huffed a quiet laugh, dipping the brush back into the paint. “i don’t know about great, but madison deserves a nice room. gotta make it special.”  

there was a softness in his voice that hadn’t always been there before. the weight of everything that had happened—the unexpected pregnancy, the messy emotions when he found out, and now this attempt at something new—lingered in the air like unspoken words.  

you watched him silently for a moment, the realization settling deeper into your bones: chris was trying. he was trying to be here, trying to show up in ways that mattered, even if neither of you had fully figured out what that looked like yet.  

“she’s gonna love it,” you said quietly, your voice carrying more meaning than just the mural on the wall.  

chris glanced back at you, his blue eyes softer than usual. “yeah,” he murmured. “i hope so.”  

chris turned back to the wall, his brush moving with slower, more deliberate strokes as he filled in the daisy’s petals. the room smelled faintly of fresh paint and new beginnings.  

“do you think she likes daisies?” he asked suddenly, voice low but curious.  

you smiled, folding a soft yellow onesie and placing it neatly in the drawer. “how could she not? daisies are happy flowers.”  

“yeah,” he said, thoughtful. “she should be surrounded by happy things.”  

there it was again—that quiet determination in his voice, like he was making a promise not just to madison but to you, too. the weight of everything unspoken settled between you, but it didn’t feel heavy this time. it felt hopeful.  

“she’s surrounded by love,” you said softly, standing up and brushing paint flecks off your leggings. “that’s what matters.”  

chris put down the brush and wiped his hands on his jeans, leaving faint white streaks across the denim. “i’m gonna make sure of that,” he said, meeting your gaze. “for both of you.”  

the sincerity in his words made your throat tighten, but you nodded, swallowing down the lump of emotion. “we know,” you whispered.  

he took a step closer, hesitant but firm, and you let yourself believe—just for a moment—that maybe this was the beginning of something good. something right.  

you finish folding her clothes, standing up and placing them in her dresser. you watch as nick and matt fiddle with some trinkets on her tallest dresser, chris continuing to paint. he picks up a dab of yellow paint, drawing a circle in the middle of the flower. 

he steps back, admiring it. you walk over to him, silently standing next to him. 

"what do you think?" chris asked quietly, his voice warm but uncertain as he tilted his head toward the daisy.  

you tilted your head, mimicking his stance. "it’s perfect," you said softly, the simplicity of the flower somehow capturing everything you hoped for madison’s world—peaceful, joyful, and bright.  

"yeah?" he glanced at you, searching for reassurance.  

"yeah," you nodded, brushing your shoulder against his lightly. "she's gonna love it. i already do."  

he exhaled a laugh, the sound soft but genuine. "good. couldn’t have messed this up. my first major dad duty, you know?"  

his words caught you off guard, and you turned to look at him, your expression softening. there was no hesitation in the way he said it—no doubt, no fear. just a quiet certainty that this was where he was supposed to be.  

"you're doing okay so far," you teased gently, though your voice wavered with emotion.  

chris grinned, paint-streaked and slightly bashful. "just okay? i'll work on that."  

from across the room, matt let out an exaggerated groan. "can you guys be done with the heartfelt stuff? nick just knocked over a whole box of diapers, and i'm not cleaning it up."  

"that was your fault," nick protested, holding up his hands defensively. "you bumped me!"  

chris chuckled, shaking his head. "guess i better go handle that," he muttered, stepping toward the chaos.  

you stayed where you were, eyes lingering on the daisy, the pink walls, and the scattered paint cans. it wasn’t perfect—none of this was—but it was real. it was yours. and as you watched chris wrangle nick and matt into helping clean up the mess, you knew it was going to be enough.  

from the monitor, you heard madisons cried coming from your mom office, and your mothers coos calming her. 

you knew this was it. you were okay. you and chris were together again. and maybe, hopefully, this time it will all work out. you, chris, and madison were a family.  

you were finally okay again. 

chris glanced back at you from across the room, a playful smirk tugging at his lips despite nick and matt’s bickering. “hey,” he called out softly, like he had something more to say but wasn’t sure how to put it into words.  

“yeah?” you asked, your voice steady but curious.  

“thanks for letting me be here,” he said, sincerity lacing every word.  

you smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. “thanks for showing up,” you replied gently.  

and in that simple exchange, surrounded by the mess, the laughter, and the lingering smell of paint, you realized something—being okay didn’t mean perfect. it just meant showing up, trying, and finding joy in the chaos.  

and that? that was more than enough.

────────────୨ৎ────────────

a/n: were finally done with this series!! i loved writing it so much i hope u all enjoyed it!! :)) if u have any ideas of what else you might wanna see let me know and i might do a part seven?

- aurora ᯓ✮⋆˙

find other parts of this series here

likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! ੈ✩‧₊˚

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[cambankromyy]

THE ISLAND LOOKOUT (pt.8): stop being weird - (smau & irl au) childhood bsf!rafe cameron x thornton!reader

series masterlist; general masterlist; taglist

an; lmfao i watched babygirl last night so smut coming in the next few chapters FINALLY!!

part 7- part 8 - part 9

you don’t do weird, dramatic silences. you don’t ignore each other. you don’t fight.

so why does it kind of feel like you are?

it’s been days since the last pogue hangout. since you started seeing rafe a little less. since you realized he wasn’t really… talking to you anymore. not like normal. not like you two.

it’s not like he’s outright avoiding you—he still shows up, still answers when you text—but he’s dry. dismissive. like he doesn’t really care. and maybe you wouldn’t care either, if it weren’t so obvious.

you roll onto your back, staring at the ceiling, your phone resting on your stomach. music plays softly from your speaker, some song you don’t even realize is on until it ends. the room feels too quiet. the kind of quiet that makes your thoughts louder than they need to be.

before you can think too hard about it, you grab your phone and open your messages.

it’s not like you to overthink things. not with rafe. but the whole thing is just… off. and it’s not like he’s going to tell you what’s up—clearly—so you do the next best thing.

meanwhile, your life is moving. no time to think about rafe. no time to care.

you’re at the chateau, cross-faded, curled up against jj on the couch, barely processing the conversation happening around you. his arm is slung around your waist, and at some point, your head ends up on his shoulder. the night moves fast like that, all smoke and static and warmth, the air thick with laughter and the low hum of music from a speaker someone set on the counter.

jj’s rolling another joint, half-focused on pope and john b arguing over something stupid, while kiara eggs them on. you don’t even know what they’re mad about, but it’s funny watching them get worked up, hands flying, voices overlapping.

jj nudges you with his shoulder, eyes lazy, smirking. “you good over there, champ?”

you hum in response, tilting your head back to look at him. “never better.”

he grins, flicking the lighter to life.

at some point, jj drags you off the couch, pulling you toward the kitchen under the excuse of “we need snacks.” the real reason, as it turns out, is to shotgun a beer with you, which you only half succeed at before nearly choking on it. jj laughs so hard he almost chokes too, smacking the counter as he wheezes, before shoving the neck of his hoodie at you to wipe your mouth like you haven’t known each other for two weeks at most.

“you suck at this,” he says, grinning.

“fuck you,” you cough, still recovering.

“nah, that was tragic,” he teases, cracking open another one like you didn’t just borderline aspirate the first. “you gotta commit. you hesitated.”

you glare at him, wiping your chin with his hoodie before flipping it back at his face. “let’s see you do better, mr. professional.”

jj winks, tilting his head back as he downs the beer effortlessly, then slamming the empty can on the counter with an exaggerated gasp. “light work,” he announces.

you roll your eyes. “congrats. you’ve peaked.”

he throws an arm over your shoulder, pulling you into a loose side hug as he grabs a bag of chips off the counter. “c’mon, princess. let’s go pretend we got the snacks and not just our crippling alcohol dependencies.”

sometime past 2 a.m., you end up back on the couch, jj next to you, kiara half in your lap, legs thrown over the armrest. your limbs feel heavy, head fogged over with exhaustion, but you feel good. easy. warm in the way that only comes with nights like this.

you don’t check your phone. don’t think about unread messages or stubborn boys who’d rather sit in their heads than get out of them.

not your problem tonight.

tags: @italk2god @angelicameron @marleymarleymarleymarley, @queenvane64, @raeven-marie43 @idiotussupremus @sereneera @yesshewrites1 @inlovewithchriss @ethanthequeefqueen @amterasuu @popou61 @drewsstars @yannew @anothertimegirl @flvredcas @yootvi @mrsdrewstarkeyy @niaunofficial @cooper8224 @rafegetinmybed @pogueprincesa @6r4cie @adalia-lovelace @bee-43 @drewrry @masongetinmybed @defnotayonna @lcversvoid @my-name-is-baby @lolasangelz @polli05927 @laniirackssss @rafecameronswifeyy @hello-therree

[tonysbed]

Secrets I keep | Part 13

Lando Norris x sister!reader

Max Fewtrell x norris!reader

Daniel Ricardo x Norris!reader

summary: You and Max have been dancing around your feelings for years but jealousy gets the best of us all..

not proofread

warnings: mention of loosing virginity, no they’re not gonna fuck on the boat, ITS LANDOS. Smut will be marked. Reader is definitely a woman 😔☝️ For the first time, I wrote protected sex 😧

warnings in the smut part: choking, rough sex, virginity loss, use of good girl, fingering, it could be cringe for some idk

series masterlist | previous | next

-

“Max..” Your voice was quiet and your eyes met his “We don’t have to, we’ll go up there and take a nap or anything” You nod, he smiles gently and presses a kiss to your nose “Tell me when I’m crossing lines okay? I’m not gonna loose you because i’m selfish or anything” His tone was quiet and gentle, matching yours.

“I will. I just..” You look down. Max senses that you’re struggling, grabs the forgotten ice cream, puts it back in the freezer and takes you back upstairs.

He pulls you on your previous spot, making you lay your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry” “For what?” “We didn’t..” And we don’t have to. I literally could not care less. If you don’t want it, I don’t want it either.”

You smile at him as his thumb caressed your cheek. You sigh and press your lips together, making Max tilt his head at you “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s fine” He shakes his head “No. Talk to me” You shake your head “It’s okay” “No it’s not. I can only help you when you tell me what’s wrong” “Nothings really wrong..” “But?”

You sigh and fidget with a bracelet Lando had gifted you years ago “It hasn’t changed..” Max looked confused “Changed? What?” “Me, uhm..” “Well, It doesn’t really matter if you do or not. I’m still right here” You chuckle and blush at his words.

“It’s no that” His hand rests over yours “Then what?” “I asked something of you, something you didn’t want.. well..” Max face twists from confusion to realisation “You’re..you never..?” You shake your head “I didn’t know we’d end up here but I never really found anyone I trusted enough”

He stares at you “And where is the problem?” “Maybe you didn’t want-“ “You listen to me now.” He sits up “I wanted you. I want you and I will want you until I take my last breath. That’s how much you consume me. I need you in every way that you allow me to have you. And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you couldn’t be open about this, but I promise you, It’s okay. And we don’t have to. Okay? That’s not why we’re here”

He holds your face in his hands “Okay?” You nod and gently meet his lips.

“We’ve been through enough to not hide something from the other. And we’ll probably go through hell a few times. Especially when the internet catches on, but that all won’t matter cause we’ve got each other.”

You smile and nod “Okay” Max smiles too “Okay. And now we should slowly go back to land. I’m starving” You chuckle “Ay ay, captain” You smirk “Dork” He ruffles through you hair “Hey!”

He quickly kissed the top of your head and heads to turn the boat around. You watch him leading you both back to the land. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as you thought.

-

yn added to their story

caption: I wish I knew what he tried there, but I have no clue @/ maxfewtrell

reply’s:

lando did he get stuck?

yn no he actually didn’t

lando ohhh, miracle

yn almost tho

alexandrasaintmleux when is your busy schedule free for me 😔

yn always, you just gotta say when you’re free 😔 I think we also need to talk about something that happened yesterday 👀

alexandrasaintmleux ohh 👀

user you and max are hanging out a lot

user you’re with max again??

-

yn and alexandrasaintmleux added to their story

(yn cap: 🦋🤍 | alex cap: 💕🌸)

“But you guys didn’t sleep with each other?” “No I couldn’t.. I mean we talked about it afterwards. And he told me that it’s okay but it doesn’t feel okay”

She smiles at you “You’re finally where you wanted to be all along. It is okay. No matter what the media, what lando, and definitely daniel says. They don’t matter. Did he give you any reason not to trust him?”

“No?” “Then talk to him again. And if you aren’t ready, then that’s okay too.” “Everyone-“ “Shut up.” You blink at her “Stop comparing yourself, please. If I had the chance again, I would’ve rather thought about who I had my first time with. But I wanted to fit in, to loose my virginity. That’s stupid tho. Do it with someone you love, and not do it when everyone tells you to lose it.”

You nod “Alright, alright. Before you start writing poems here.” You chuckle and Alex laughs “I’m sure i’ll write some about the insufferable love you two have for each other” “Me and Max? Talk about yourself with the wannabe fashionista”

“That’s mean” She says but laughs “His pants are the worst! How would you let him go out like that?” You cringe “He likes it I guess. I’ll help him here and there but..he’s expressing himself..?”

“Don’t make me feel bad “ You chuckle but pick up your phone that lit up.

“Who is it?” “Max” She smirks at you “Shut up” “I didn’t say anything” You roll your eyes “What does he want?” “Asking if I was up for dinner tonight. But keegan and morgan would be joining if I was okay with it”

“But you wanted to talk to him” “I’m not gonna talk to him about him talking my virginity in public, Alex!” You whisper yell. She shrugs and you roll your eyes again.

“Maybe you won’t even have to talk” She smirks again “Alex” You whine “Do you trust him?” “Yes” “Do you want it to be him?” “Yes” She smiles as she sips her coffee.

“We’ll see what happens” “Just don’t panic. You’ll be okay.” you nod “Thank you alex” “You know I won’t judge” She winks.

-

maxfewtrell

liked by landonorris, charlesleclerc, angryginge13 and 625.836 others

maxfewtrell recently 🌺👀

user WHO IS THAT

lando I still beat you.

maxfewtrell 🙄🙄

angryginge13 not surprised. He was ogling his girlfriend the entire time

maxfewtrell I was not

lando you were.

user let us innnn

user he looks so happy omg

user this is so cute

user handplacement 🥹

-

You kicked off your heels in the hallway and made your way to the living room. You flopped down onto the couch and you hear a chuckle from behind you “Told you to wear other shoes.” “But others wouldn’t have fit to my outfit” You pout.

“Then you should’ve changed” “So you don’t like my outfit?” “Oh trust me, I love it” You blush a bit as he sits next to you, hand on your knee.

“How was the meet up with Alexandra? More gossip?” “Maybe” Max smiled and closed his eyes. His head rested on the back of the couch as you watched him.

“Everything okay?” He mumbled a few moments later and opened one eye to look at you “yeah, i’m okay” You smile warmly. He smiles, closes his eye and gently strokes your leg.

Either he hasn’t noticed, or he’s doing it on purpose but with each stoke, his hand itched higher and higher. When he got to your thigh, your breath hitched.

You saw max’s lips twitch upwards slightly. His thumb makes a soothing motion over your inner thigh, which isn’t soothing at all (Ykyk that feeling).

“Fewtrell.” He hums “What are you doing?” “I’m not doing anything” He turns his head and looks at you with an innocent smile “I know exactly what you’re doing.” “Then why are you asking?”

* Smut until the next mark *

“Don’t play with me, Fewtrell” “No? But I thought that’s exactly what you wanted” You glare at him “Maybe I don’t want it anymore” He chuckled “No? Then why is my hand trapped between your thighs?” He smirks. Fuck, you hadn’t even noticed that your thighs were pressed together.

You look up at him with a faint blush on your cheeks. His free hand cups your cheek “Tell me to stop and I will” You shake your head “Don’t” “No? You sure” You nod and he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yes”

That’s all it took for max to let his restraint go. His lips crash into yours “Tell me if I make you uncomfortable or-“ “Just shut up” You breath out. He chuckled, pulled his hand from between your thighs and climbed over you.

His hands were next to your head, yours finding their place on his sides “Max” You say quietly as his lips gently glide over your jaw “Hm?” You raise your hands to his cheeks and pull him in for another kiss.

One hand slowly wanders down to the first button on his shirt, which he catches in his hand. You look at him puzzled “I’m not fucking you on your couch” “Why not?” “Not happening”

He gets up and throws you over his shoulder as if you weighted nothing “Max! What the fuck!” “You’ll live.” You chuckle as he makes his way to your bedroom.

He gently sets you down on the bed and doesn’t restrain your hands from opening his shirt this time. He watched every move of your hands and looks right into your eyes as you push the dress shirt off him.

He lets it fall to the floor as he leans over you again, his lips almost touching yours “Still okay?” “yes” You lean up the last bit to kiss him, making him smile into the kiss.

One of his hands trace your back “Wanna keep it on or can I..” Max eyes you for a moment, keeping alert for any possible discomfort. You breath for a moment “It’s okay” You say quietly.

He smiles and gently opens your dress. It falls of your shoulders as he pulls you up by your hands and strips you off the dress completely.

His eyes roam your body, but instead of being embarrassed, it’s sends a warm sensation through your body.

“Got your wish after all, huh?” He chuckled “Shut up and hurry up” “Patience baby. Everything at its time” You roll your eyes but yelp as Max pushes you back on the bed.

“Up” He says and you move more upwards on the bed as he towers over you. His lips find your jaw once again while one of his hands roams your form.

He trails down your body, keeping eye contact. “Max, please. Don’t tease” “I’m not teasing, i’m enjoying” His hands slide up your sides and stop at your bra “Can I take it off?” You nod and Max opens your bra and throws it off the bed.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He murmured against your skin. His hands gently knead your tits and smirks as you let out a gasp.

He comes up to your ear, gently biting under it, earning a muffled moan “Has anyone ever touched you, baby?” You shake your head, breathless “No? Oh fuck” He chuckled and let his head fall forward for a moment.

Max composed himself again as his hands travel down to the last piece of clothing that’s covering you. He looks at you and you nod. He raised an eyebrow “Yes, max for fucks sake. Stop asking and do something, please”

He smirked and pulled down your underwear, leaving you bare in front of him. You tug at his pants “No, not yet” He gently guides your hand above your head “This is about you, not me” You whine “You can have me later, let me make my stupid decision up, hmm?”

He gently glides two fingers through your folds. You bite your lip to keep your moans quiet, but Max wasn’t having any of it.

“Let me hear you, otherwise I’ll stop” He pulls his hand away and you buckle your hips upwards, which was quickly shut down by max shoving and holding your hips down.

His fingers find your clit and circle it slowly. One of your hands grabs max’s arm. He smiles and speeds up slowly. Your breathing was already unsteady but it wasn’t enough “Max, please” “Use your words. What do you want?”

You blush and clench your jaw “I’m not a mind reader, you gotta tell me” “Your fingers” “oh yeah?” You nod eagerly “Well, who am I to deny you that” He slowly inserts one of his fingers and watches your face for any discomfort.

When he doesn’t find any, he curves his finger upwards. You moan and thighten your grip on his arm “More, please Max” He inserts another finger into you and picks up the pace.

He keeps his thumb on your clit, kissing your thighs in the process. You moan out his name, nothing else than him filling your mind.

“What a good girl” Max raised an eyebrow as you clenched around his fingers “Oh? You like when I call you that?” You blush and hide your face in your hands.

“Don’t hide yourself, come on Baby” He peels your hands away “Eyes on me. You wanna cum on my fingers?” You nod “Yeah? You think you can handle my cock too?” You nod eagerly “Yes, I can”

Max smirks, picking up the speed again and you whine “Aw, are you sensitive?” You push your head backwards into the pillow.

The squelch of the movement inside of you is the only noise filling the room for a moment, making you fist the blanket and max’s arm.

“So good- Max! ‘m close” “Yeah? I’ve got you, cum all over my fingers. Need it” He says and bites the inside your thigh.

The pain pushes you over the edge, your nails digging into Max’s arm.

He slowed down his pace, letting you ride out your high. He pulls out and wipes his fingers on his pants, his free hand gently stroking your abdomen.

You look at him, catching your breath, hair sticking to your forehead. Max chuckled “If you look this fucked out on my fingers, I wonder what my cock does to to you”

You bite your lip and reach out to him, fingers hooking into his belt. Max raised his eyebrows at you but smirks “Go ahead” He nods and you unbuckle his belt. He moves backwards on the bed to stand back up and take his pants off.

“You’re still clothed” You say, sitting on your knees now, tilting your head and pointing at his boxers. Max chuckled “Impatient, are we?” He smirks but you cross your arms “Alright, alright” He chuckled, taking off his underwear too and crawling back above you, pushing you back on your back.

You hold the eye contact but flicker to his lips. His hands reached for the nightstand and takes something off it. “You wanna do it?” You look at the condom. Where the hell did that thing come from and when did he even place it there?

But your thoughts were interrupted when max kissed your jaw “Hm?” “I wanna do it” You whisper “Alright then” He holds the pack up to your mouth and you gently grab it with your teeth, to not damage anything.

You both sit back up, and you rip open the package. You place it on his cock and out of the corner of your eye you can see his hands clenching, holding back from touching you. You smirks and roll the condom down.

Max squeezed his eyes shut and mumbled a quiet ‘fuck’ You keep moving your hand up and down his cock “Sweetheart, no- oh fuck” You thighten your grip slightly, making Max gasp.

“That’s not what- oh” His breath quickens “I’m just making sure it’s on properly” You smile innocently, and before you can say anything else, his hand grips your throat “You’re a minx. I’d be careful if I was you” “Oh yeah? What’re you gonna do?”

He smirks slowly and clenched his jaw “Nothing today. This is about you, but don’t think I’ll forget you being a little brat.”

You raise your eyebrows “Me? I would never” “You’ve never and you still..” Max cuts himself off “I forgot, you read” You smile “Not so innocent, are you baby?” He smiles and pulls you in by your throat.

His lips press against yours and he pulls away again, making you try and chase him, which doesn’t work with his hand around your throat.

He gently pushes you back down and presses gentle kisses around your neck, keeping your hips still with his hands.

“Max, please” He raised an eyebrow “Stop teasing. You don’t need to be a mind reader to know what I want. Please, I thought you wanted to make it up to me? “ You whine, making him press his lips together, nodding “I know, I know sweetheart. You’ll get what you want”

He lines himself up with you but looks up first “Tell me to go slower or stop, okay? You got the control on the pace” You nod, hand wrapping around his bicep.

He slowly pushes in, making you gasp. Your nails dig into his arm, making him hiss. Your scrunch your eyebrows together “Wait-fuck. A moment, please” Max stops immediately and looks up “You okay?” You nod “Just need a moment”

He nods and waits for your cue to move again. Your mouth opens in a soundless moan, which makes Max wrap his hand around your throat once again “Come on, don’t go shy on me now, Pretty girl. Let me hear you” You try to stop the restrain on your moans and Max stills inside you, once he’s in by the hilt.

“You tell me when to move, okay?” You nod, pulling him down for a kiss, your fingers tangling into his hair.

“Okay, you can move” He slowly pulls out and trusts back in. Your eyes widen as he continues the movement “Holy- Max” He chuckles and leans his head next to your ear, making you listen to his breathing.

“How are you feeling?” He says, quickly pecking your cheek “Good” “Yeah? Feels good?” You nod, eyes occasionally rolling into the back of your head.

“Told you we should’ve done this earlier- fuck” You grad the arm that is wrapped around your throat “Yeah? Bet you would’ve loved to be fucked everywhere, hm? Having to keep quiet if I actually fucked you in my drivers room, your own room or mine? Or on the italy vacation?”

“I don’t- I don’t know what you’re talking about” You get out between moans “No? Running around in those dresses, my god. And bending over every time I was around you? Total accident i’m sure” He growls, thightening his hold on your throat.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head once again at his action “you’re fucking filthy, aren’t you? If you like me chocking you, what else is it I will find when I fuck you, hm?” He smirks as you blush “Always the ones you thought were innocent” He chuckled as you silenced him with a kiss.

“Please, faster” Max gladly listens, picking up his pace and reaching down to play with your clit “Max- Oh god”

“You have no idea how long I wanted to do this to you. I don’t know how I kept away from you, but I won’t ever be able to ever again” Max’s breath gets heavier and his head hangs down.

“Harder” “Baby im already-“ “You’re not gonna break me” He lets out a breathless laugh “Jesus, you’re gonna be the death of me” He obliged either way and soon you could feel the pleasure creeping up on you.

Max felt your repeatedly clenching around him as his thrusts don’t falter “Are you close? Can feel you squeezing me so- oh my- fucking tight” You nod “Yeah? Wanna come on my cock? Be a good girl?” “Yeah, wanna be good- fuck”

He smirks at the effect he has on you, but his expression quickly turns into concern as tears roll down your cheeks and he starts to slow down “Hey-hey are you okay?” “Don’t stop, please max. Fuck, keep going”

It was then he realised you were crying because it just felt good “Not hurting, please I’m so close” He nods and picks up his pace again.

This time he picks up your hips a bit which earns him a loud moan “Oh- right there, max” He chuckled but continued pounding into you, as his own orgasm crept up on him.

“Yeah? Finally found it” He says more to himself than you but tries to continually hitting the spot, over and over again.

“Gonna cum, max. Don’t stop, don’t-“ “I won’t, let go baby. I got you, be a good girl” You pulled him down into a heated kiss as white hot please consumed every fibre of your body, your other hand gripping his shoulder, marking another part of him.

Your orgasm triggered his own and his hands grip your hips, probably bruising them slightly in the process.

His forehead rests on yours as you slowly come down from your high. Max slowly pulls out, which earns him a quiet hiss of you.

“Sorry” he mumbled and pulled the condom off to throw it in the trash.

* smut end * holy cow that was long 😭 Anyway.

“You want a bath or just lay here” Max whispered as he cuddled up to you “Just a moment. But a bath sounds nice too” “I’ll quickly turn on the water and be right back” You nod with closed eyes.

A few moments later you hear the water running and Max is back in the room, now in sweatpants “Why are you wearing those?” “Do you know how weird it feels to walk around naked?” He laughs and crawls back to you, pulling you onto his chest “Don’t fall asleep on me now. We still gotta clean you up”

“How can I not when you brush through my hair like that and cuddle me” You mumble “To bad, sweetheart. Still gonna have the bath” You don’t move and max laughs “Do I have to carry you?” “Mhm”

He chuckled again but picks you up “Let’s go then” You keep your eyes closed, leaning on his shoulder. “Can you open the door? My hands are quite occupied”

You smile and open the door. The warmth of the room immediately makes you feel even sleepier. He sets you down for a moment and closes the door.

“Come on, hop hop in there” “Don’t rush me” You say and hold a hand out “Yeah yeah” He picks you back up and you squeal “Max!” He slowly sets you down in the bathtub. He sits beside the tub and holds your hand, head resting on the side and looking at you.

“You’re staring.” “I know. But do you really care?” “No” You smile and look at him. His smile widens “Good.” He sits up properly to kiss you. Your hand draws shapes on his shoulder “Oh” “Hm?”

You chuckle “Did I do that?” You point to the countless scratches on his arms and shoulders “I think you did, yeah” He laughs “Even down here!” He looks at the lower part of his arm “How am I supposed to hide that?”

“Hoodie?” He looks at you deadpan “Hoodie? It’s like.. super hot outside?” “Then you’ll be smoking hot” He chuckled “You’re crazy” “Yet you’re still sitting here” Max nods “Yeah, somehow” You roll your eyes and lay back down.

comfortable silence fills the room. Max’s hand gently caressed your face as you calm down. You were right were you wanted to be, without any disturbance..right?

-

Holy shit. It’s been a while since I wrote smut, so go easy on me. Part 14 is still coming out tomorrow, no worries about that 🤭

[tsuyalovebot]

ur writing is insane, i love it sm!!!

any thoughts on caleb with a biiiit of a gentle— soft ‘daddy’ persona? 😼

hello! first of all, thank you so much! i'm really happy knowing that the way i write for caleb is well received :] second, i am SO sorry this took so long to get out, i didn't even notice i had this in my inbox (; ; )

for caleb though, i can definitely see that coming to life. he's got a parental vibe to the way he nurtures mc. to look at it one way, our caleb right now feels very brotherly. a lot of it has to do with their banter and how he treats mc. another way of seeing him is when he's the colonel. very commanding, no questions asked, expectant, and domineering. i feel like a soft daddy persona would fall between those two. he doesn't need to be excessively stern, but he toes that line instead.

i don't know if i'm envisioning him correctly (i have never written for this specific persona before, and i don't often consume mentioned persona either). but here's my take nonnie!

most of the stuff caleb says and does comes off as nagging in the eyes of mc. he'd have to establish some sense of quiet authority over you to shift the narrative. making you feel protected and taken care of. maybe he cuts back a bit on the teasing from time to time, and whenever you start to edge into an argument (hah), it's then that i imagine he takes control of it. he did it before, surely; instances of him treating you a parent would their child. it kind of leaves you a bit more meek. not as resistant.

you'd cross the line in one way or another. he was trying hard to not really go too far — it wasn't that big of a deal, it was simply about your tendency to come home late when visiting skyhaven. but, the words leave you with such startling sharpness that it leaves the both of you reeling. and you watch, in real time, as caleb slips and slides from your fingertips.

"you know you were wrong to say that, right?" he starts. nothing gives away any sign of anger, irritation, nor vexation. the words come out measured.

he isn't chastising you. not yet.

and you know you were wrong, you knew that saying that obviously wasn't the smartest decision on your part. and yet, the bitter phrases still left you with ease. he's watching you now, expectant.

you're quiet. he notices.

"i'm not mad," he says, voice softer now. from where he's standing, he's tall and looming and pressuring. but with every tentative step taken toward you, subtracting the distance separating your bodies, there's nothing intimidating.

his hands find yours, tightly clasped on your lap. each digit that was wringing itself slowly undid the curl, the tight clasp. the expertise in his manner of undoing you was methodical.

"but you gotta be kinder, you know that." the assurance comes in a subtle form of advice, not at all suffocating. and yet you're nodding along with his words, letting him pull, wind you up in his arms, and sway side to side.

it's oddly soothing. you can't really curse at him like this, not that you'd try.

"so well-behaved. that's it."

your face buried in his chest in silent apology, his lips on your hair. when he uses his fingers to hold your chin and experimentally move your head, you don't resist, looking up at him. you don't know when you started looking for approval in those quietly commanding eyes of his.

"good. that's good," he whispers, smiling.

you blurt the words on instinct. "i'm sorry."

he hums. "you're forgiven. you gonna do it again?"

"no."

his smile widens, and he leans down. when he kisses you, it's slow. methodical. and you're like melted butter in those few seconds, even as he's settling the two of you down onto the couch. you're on his lap and kissing him, barely catching how he murmurs, "i know you won't."

[riqomi]

valentines day ˖ 박성훈

박성훈 ˖ 𝑓em!r .. g. fluff est. relationship ──── BOOKSHELF (894) tw: kissing request? yes

the city was alive with love—shop windows glowing with heart-shaped decorations, couples strolling down the streets, laughter and warmth filling the crisp winter air. the scent of roses and freshly baked chocolate treats lingered around every corner, making everything feel like a scene from a romance movie.

as you wrapped your scarf tighter around your neck, your phone buzzed with a message.

sunghoon: almost ready? i’ll be waiting downstairs.

your heart skipped a beat. sunghoon had been unusually secretive about tonight’s plans, only telling you to dress warmly. you quickly checked your reflection in the mirror, adjusting your coat before heading outside.

when you reached the lobby of your apartment, you spotted him leaning against his sleek black car, hands tucked into the pockets of his long wool coat. the soft glow of the streetlights illuminated his flawless features—his sharp jawline, the tip of his nose slightly pink from the cold, and the familiar half-smirk that made your stomach flutter.

the moment he saw you, his eyes softened, and a slow smile spread across his lips. “hey, gorgeous.”

you laughed, feeling warmth spread through you despite the cold. “you’re being extra smooth today.”

sunghoon opened the car door for you with a playful bow. “i mean, it is valentine’s day. gotta impress my date.”

as he drove through the city, one hand resting on the steering wheel, the other occasionally adjusting the heater to make sure you were warm enough, you couldn’t help but admire him. his side profile was breathtaking—the way his lashes cast soft shadows on his cheeks, the gentle hum of his voice when he asked if you were comfortable.

"are you really not gonna give me a hint about where we’re going?" you asked, turning to him with curiosity.

he simply smirked. "nope. you’ll see when we get there."

after a short drive, the car pulled up to a quiet park, the entrance lined with twinkling fairy lights. your eyes widened as you stepped out, the sight before you making your breath hitch.

a private outdoor ice-skating rink lay ahead, nestled between trees dusted with snow. the fairy lights cast a golden glow over the ice, making it look like something straight out of a winter fairytale.

"surprise," sunghoon said, watching your reaction. "i know you always wanted to skate under the stars."

you turned to him in awe. "you planned all this?"

he rubbed the back of his neck, a little bashful. "yeah… i had to book it in advance. didn’t want anyone ruining our moment."

your heart melted at how much thought he had put into this.

after lacing up your skates, you hesitantly stepped onto the ice, wobbling slightly. sunghoon, the natural skater, glided beside you effortlessly.

he chuckled, reaching for your hands. "come here. i won’t let you fall."

you pouted. "that’s easy for you to say, mr. figure skater."

sunghoon only grinned before pulling you closer. his hands wrapped around yours firmly, guiding you as you slowly moved across the ice. the warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, it felt like the entire world had faded away.

"you’re doing great," he murmured, his voice soft as he gazed at you.

"only because you’re holding me up," you teased, laughing as he effortlessly spun you, catching you smoothly before you could stumble.

his arms circled your waist, holding you close. "that’s the plan," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

for a moment, neither of you moved. the air between you was thick with unspoken words, your faces just inches apart. the twinkle of the lights reflected in his dark brown eyes, and the way he looked at you—like you were the only person in the world—made your heart hammer in your chest.

"sunghoon…" you whispered.

he reached up, brushing a stray snowflake from your hair before cupping your cheek gently. "can i kiss you?" he asked, his voice barely above a breath.

your lips parted, your breath hitching as you nodded.

sunghoon leaned in slowly, his eyes never leaving yours until the very last moment. then, finally, his lips met yours in a soft, lingering kiss. the world seemed to fade as he kissed you tenderly, his arms tightening around you as if he never wanted to let go. the cold air no longer mattered, the snow falling around you only adding to the magic of the moment.

when he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, a small smile playing on his lips.

"you’re freezing," he murmured, running his thumb over your cheek.

"and whose fault is that?" you teased, breathless.

he chuckled before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close. "i’ll warm you up," he whispered against your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

as the night stretched on, you skated hand in hand, stopping only to sip hot chocolate from a thermos he had prepared. when it was finally time to leave, sunghoon led you back to the car, but not before pressing another kiss to your lips under the softly falling snow.

"happy valentine’s day, love," he whispered.

"best valentine’s ever," you murmured, leaning into him as he held you close.

and in that moment, under the glow of the city and the quiet whisper of winter, you knew—sunghoon was your forever.

[theyluvpeach]

chasing you.

you avoid him. he catches you. dealer!reader x client!chris blurb <3

He's starting to think he's the problem. Those are words Chris never thought would form in his brain—But here he is, trying to figure out why hasn't seen you all week.

It doesn't make any sense. You're always around campus, yet when he's actively looking for you, you're nowhere to be seen. Chris doesn't even want to talk to you. He just wants to give you your shit back so Matt will stop bothering him about it.

Even though he's your friend—And he was the one to even invite you to the party in the first place—He has to return your heels cause apparently, Matt has better shit to do then chase you around all day.

He's been all around campus looking for you. If you're not at the campus cafe, he's gonna launch your heels at Matt's head.

Matt is so lucky you're here.

You're in the corner at a booth with tons of books and your computer in front of you. You're not your usual neon colored self. There's no star clips in your hair. You don't have on an overly tight top. No flared jeans. You're unrecognizable.

He can see the fear settle in your eyes as he walks up to you. So, you were avoiding him.

"Chris." The tension in your voice is quite frankly, insane. That night, after leaving you in his room, all he did was talk to Matt about what to do with you and then passed out on the couch after the party was over. What could he have done in that time?

"Kid, I know you were shitfaced last week, but I can't believe you forgot all about your stuff." You blink at him multiple times. "What?"

He shoves your heels and tights that are stuffed in them to you, "Y'know? All this?"

You slowly take them, your face lighting up. "Oh... Oh!"

"Huh?" He's confused. You were all gloomy just a second ago, and now you look like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Mh....I thought we fucked, if I'm being completely honest." He watches you tuck your heels away into your bag. "This reminded me we didn't, thanks."

Chris, for once in his life, is speechless. You were avoiding him because you thought you guys fucked. Honestly, he'll take this over you being all over Aiden. He wonders if you remember that... he's not gonna bring it up.

Huh. This is probably how the girls he sleeps with feel after they wake up alone in the morning.

"Nah, I don' fuck my brothers friends." You tilt your head at him, annoyingly, and raise your eyebrow. "Michelle."

"Doesn't count."

"Brittany."

"Also doesn't count."

"Vivi—"

"You friends with all the girls I fuck or somethin'?" You laugh, loudly. Bringing attention to yourself, but you don't care. You're definitely back to your usual self. "Some of them. They're wondering why I'm hanging around Mr. Community Dick."

Chris rolls his eyes. "Matt deserves that title."

"Eh, you guys are tied." You smile at him. And he gets that feeling in his chest again. The one that makes him feel like he's dying. When you start looking at him like he's crazy makes him remember that you guys are having a conversation and process that's he's staring at you.

He awkwardly coughs. "Whatcha' got all these books for anyway?" You groan, resting your forehead on the table. "Ecology."

He blinks.

"Plants." You sit up, resting your head in your hands, "Its the study of how living organisms interact with their physical environment—"

"We get it. You're smart. Trust."

"Well—" You flush at the compliment. Maybe not pissing you off gets him places. "That's just the definition!"

He eyes the stacks of books at your table. "You got a test, or are you just a nerd?"

You scoff. "I'm not a nerd. We have a test, and since my teacher writes questions like she hasn't talked to a human being in years, I'm doing some light reading."

"Light reading?" He teases. "Whatever." He checks his phone as you roll your eyes, well shit.

He spent way more time talking to you than he thought he would. He's gonna be late to the class he promised Nate he'd go to for the first time in forever.

"Gotta go," He says, beginning to walk backward towards the exit, "Don't drink so much next time, alright, kid? Not tryna chase you around again."

"I would've remembered eventually!"

tags 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚: @inspiredangel @whore4mattsturniolo @domizzzsstuff @sosasturns @drewswife

[antinousletmehit]

I had a TERRIBLE day so may I please have some soft antinous with his sister, like some gentle moments or smt

She sat on the floor in front of Antinous, grumbling as he awkwardly tried to braid her hair.“Ow! You’re pulling too hard!” she whined, swatting his hands away.

Antinous groaned. “Stop moving! I don’t know how to do this crap!”

She crossed her arms. “Then why are you even trying?”

“Because you look like a wild animal,” he muttered, tying the end of the braid (very poorly). “There. Done.”

She reached back, feeling the messy, lopsided disaster. She turned around and deadpanned at him. “What is this?”

Antinous smirked. “A masterpiece.”

She huffed, undid the braid, and grabbed his wrist. “Fine. If you wanna do my hair, you have to let me do yours.”

He tried to pull away. “Like hell you will—” But it was too late. She pounced onto his back, shoving his hair into a dozen tiny braids, giggling as she messed with it.

Eurymachus walked in, took one look at Antinous, and burst out laughing. Antinous sighed.

—

“Alright,” Antinous said, holding up his fists, “if you wanna fight, you gotta start with a good stance.” She mimicked him, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Now,” he continued, “try to hit me.” She grinned—then immediately kicked him in the shin.

Antinous yelped and clutched his leg. “You little—that’s not how you fight!”

“You didn’t say I couldn’t kick you,” she said smugly.

Antinous glared at her, then lunged, scooping her up and dropping her into the grass. She flopped like a ragdoll.

She sat up, pouting. “That’s cheating.”

He smirked, ruffling her hair. “No, that’s winning.”

—

She sat at the table, swinging her feet as she ate. Antinous watched her for a moment before suddenly gripping her cheeks.

“Why,” he groaned, squeezing them together, “are you so damn cute?”

She made a muffled noise, trying to swat his hands away.

Eurymachus, passing by, snickered. “Cuteness aggression again?”

Antinous squished her face even tighter. “Look at her! Look at her stupid tiny face!”

She bit his hand.

Antinous yelped and jerked back. “You little—!”

She stuck out her tongue and ran off, laughing as Antinous chased after her.

—

Antinous was leaning back against the wall, exhausted, when he felt a weight press against his side. He glanced down. She had curled up next to him, her head resting against his arm, eyes closed.

He sighed. “…Great. Now I can’t move.”

Eurymachus, sitting nearby, smirked. “Aren’t you gonna shove her off?”

Antinous huffed but didn’t push her away. “Nah. She’s already annoying when she’s awake. Might as well enjoy the silence.”

But as he said that, his arm instinctively wrapped around her shoulder, keeping her steady.

Eurymachus grinned. “You’re such a softie.”

“Shut up.”

—

“Let go of me!” She kicked and thrashed, but Antinous effortlessly slung her over his shoulder.

“You threw a shoe at Melanthius,” he said flatly.

“He deserved it!”

Antinous sighed, walking through the halls while she flailed. Suitors chuckled as they passed.

“She causing trouble again?” Amphinomus asked.

Antinous rolled his eyes. “When isn’t she?”

“I’M BEING KIDNAPPED!” She shrieked.

Antinous gave her a light smack on the back. “No, you’re being carried home like the brat you are.”

She just huffed, crossing her arms.

And when he finally dropped her onto her bed, she immediately grabbed his tunic, refusing to let go.

Antinous sighed. “What now?”

She mumbled sleepily, “Don’t leave.”

He hesitated—then sat beside her, arms crossed. “Fine. But if you snore, I’m leaving.”

She just yawned and curled up next to him.

And despite his words, he stayed.