#if you got through all this you deserve a cookie

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

congrats on 1k love, so deserved !! can i request han w the prompts 🧷, 🌕, 💋, 🌸, and 🧋 for the time capsule event pls ?? :3 tysmmm <33

📚 — paring・hannie x reader // genres・fluff, cookies time capsule event!! // words・1.6k // the event・wanna open your relationship time capsule? click here to request!

a/n・tee hee thank you sooo much, so crazy coming from you figuring i'm down bad for your nerd!ji series (was this lowkey based off that? yes. am i ashamed? absolutely not.) hanji being a hot nerd is so coded. to anyone reading this go check out her page her stuff is awesome!! (sorry this is kinda shit, i'm going through it right now lolol p.s there is an ungodly amount of ramen mentions in this)

🧷 — the first time you met ➵ ꒰ 0 days into your relationship ꒱

jisung is a certified loser, so naturally, he was head over heels in love with you before you two ever actually had a conversation. the first time you formally met—not him daydreaming about you in chemistry or stalking your social media—he had already been caught staring at you at least 20 times within the last hour. you've never seen a man pale and then blush so fast in your life; it was almost impressive. "do i have something on my face?" you muse, leaning forward on his desk. he's rehearsed his first real conversation with you for literal years, but alas, the moment you actually look at him, all those cool-calm-collected skills he religiously googled go poof in his brain. "w-what? n-no?? you d-don't have anything on y-your face?" his ears are so red that he can feel them, which means you can see them, and that only makes him more embarrassed. yeah, that is not a fun combo. you send him an amused smirk, running your finger along his desk. "you sure? you seem to really like my face." oh. my. god. he wants the earth to crack open and swallow him whole, shifting in his seat and clearing his throat as if this wasn't one of the most embarrassing moments in his life. "no! i-i haven't been, um..." you give him an unconvinced look. he sighs, sinking deeper into his seat, face practically on fire. "sorry..." at first, this was all a silly joke. but the way he seems so embarrassed before you, fiddling with his fingers underneath the desk and bouncing his leg as if he's going to run away, makes you think this isn't actually a joke to him. you smile, soft and disarming in its sweetness. "don't sweat it, just maybe... next time watch where you're looking." half of him expected you to laugh at him for having this silly crush, but the way you acted, how kind you were, made the delulu part of him flare up like no other. he couldn't stop thinking about you for the rest of the week, but he knew deep down, there was no possible way he could talk to you again. god had different plans because—of course this would happen to him—a week later, you get assigned to him for peer tutoring. yeah, he was so done.

💋 — the first kiss. ➵ ꒰ 1 month into your friendship ꒱

you were 'just friends' when you first kissed han jisung. he had just made a large bowl of spicy ramen, as one does, while you were finishing up some problem questions he wrote for you. you were almost finished with them when you looked over, a large splotch of sauce slathered over his bottom lip. you let out a little chuckle, motioning to his lips. "you've got something right there." he perks up, ears turning bright red. "r-right here?" he scrambles to wipe it off, but fails miserably. "no," you laugh, pointing back to where it is. "it's right there." perhaps it was because he was so flustered, but no matter how many times you showed him where it is, he just couldn't find it. he huffed in frustration, cheeks all cute and red. "i'm gonna go check the mirror." "don't worry about it," you say, pulling him back down by the sleeve, crawling to him and pressing your lips together. time stills, and when your tongue pokes out to lap against his bottom lip, he's truly convinced this was some sick, wet dream. when you finally pull away, jisung almost melts into a puddle on the floor. he should say something smooth, win you over with his totally-not-just-in-his-head flirtatious skills, but no. in classic jisung fashion, he stammers out—"d-did you, um, did you get it?" you can't help the laughter that spills from your now red and puffy lips. he can't stop thinking: shut up! shut up! shut up! you're making a total fool of yourself! "yes, jisung, i got it." "o-oh yeah, t-that's really good, w-we wouldn't want..." yeah, he doesn't say anything after that. don't worry, you didn't leave the poor boy to wallow in humiliation for long. the classic "what are we?" conversation happens the next day.

🌕 — the first night. ➵ ꒰ 1 month into your friendship ꒱

the first time you spent the night at his apartment, it was a mix of food, anime, and laughter. han has been plotting this night ever since you brought it up. he literally made an entire note on his notes app labeled super-awesome-first-night-with-my-gf. the first bullet on the list—woo my girlfriend into thinking i'm actually really cool and not just a simp. the second bullet—make tons and tons of ramen. only one of those bullets got checked off that night. anyways, the ramen was pretty smack. all jokes aside (guys tell me im so funny), you had a blast. you both huddled under the covers and didn't stop laughing until you were doubled over, stomachs cramping. he shared his favorite anime show and his super-secret-spicy-ramen recipe, which he swore up and down wasn't just ramen and cheese (it totally was). and maybe, secretly, he did woo you—just a little bit.

🌸 — the first time he got jealous. ➵ ꒰ 4 days into your relationship ꒱

it's pathetic really, how quickly han can get jealous. you weren't doing anything to evoke jealousy, you were just... talking. that's what bothered him so much — you were talking — to a tall, hot, white guy that looked nothing like him. he doesn't wanna admit it, but bagging the most beautiful girl in school came with a rap sheet of insecurities. you had only been dating for four days, but he was already worried about you also seeing how far out of his league you are. i mean, come on, you two weren't even in the same sport. (he just needs to be kissed bc what is this gorgeous baby talking about??). he'd be so pouty when you come back and sit down beside him. jisung isn't the "imma fight this hoe" kinda guy. he is the "imma cry in the corner and imagine fighting this hoe" kind guy, so when you see him avoiding your eye and pawing at his thighs, you know almost immediately. "hey ji, you good?" he scoffs, looking at you like you were crazy. "me? good? pshh, i'm so good. i'm cool, man. i'm so cool. cool like... ice..." you both cringe at that. it's silly, he knows that, and it isn't like he thought you were cheating or something — he was just... insecure. and you, being literally perfect in every way, noticed, cupping his cheeks and gingerly pointing his face toward you. "baby, talk to me, what's wrong?" he doesn't look at you when he mutters, shy and embarrassed, "who was that guy... you were talking to?" you really, really liked jisung, so you don't let out the laugh that threatened to leave your lips as you say, "who? my cousin?" han jisung has never been more horrified in his life. "your cousin?!" "yes, my love. he's my cousin." he takes another look at the fine-ass specimen of a man, then back to you. yeah, it checks out. though, meeting said cousin after that was really weird, but that's a different story for a different time.

🧋 — the first time he realized he wanted to marry you ➵ ꒰ 2 years into your relationship ꒱

han jisung realized he was going to marry you when you were looking like a total mess. work had made him feel like the entire world was sitting on his shoulders, back aching and heavy as he slipped off his shoes, stepping into the kitchen to find you—bent over the stove, stirring a heaping bowl of ramen. it was 3 in the morning, and he had taken extra shifts to help pay for bills, and quite frankly, he doesn't remember the last time he ate. you were in your hello kitty pjs, hair tangled and rustled from the power nap you took before making his meal, and the sight alone is enough to make tears spring into his eyes. "baby," he whimpers, strolling up behind you to wrap his arms tightly around your waist. you jump, but when you catch a whiff of his scent, your body relaxes into his touch, so familiar it feels like coming back home. you smile, giving the noodles one final stir before pouring them into a bowl and handing them to him, garnering it as if you were a 5-star michele."i hope you like it!" he was so tired, so tired he could collapse onto the kitchen table and never wake up again, but with you, around you—it didn't matter—he was going to eat your food gosh darn it. he took a bite and suddenly, he wasn't tired anymore, he was starved. your eyes sparkle like he just handed you the moon when his wobbly lips turn into a firm, convincing grin. "this is so good, baby. thank you." you give him this look, like you were staring straight into time, like you were imagining a life with him, and you liked it. that was where it started. it was the strangest phenomenon—it bloomed inside his chest, this feeling, and then, with disorienting intensity, it all—clicks. that's when he realized he was going to marry you, sitting there on kitchen stools, sipping on the best ramen he's ever tasted in his life.

[ace-and-sleepdeprived]

1 and 14 for my mi asks! ✅

why of course!! thank you for the ask :D

1. favorite movie? probably rogue nation, but fallout is a very close second. for how objectively dark the syndicate is as a villain, rogue nation is just. such a fun film?? easily one of the funniest in the franchise. [see: the car chase in morocco for some of the funniest m:i material] i think the main reason why i like it so much is all the benji and ethan content, and generally all the team content we get. plus it’s the first introduction of ilsa and i adore her, i freakin love rogue nation so much.

BUT DON'T KNOCK FALLOUT. it is a direct sequel to rogue nation and it expands so much on all of the stuff the previous film established, while also continuing the character-centered focus. fallout is a lot darker in my eyes and still emotionally hurts me [hunley my beloved he did NOT deserve to die :(((((] everything about it is just. so fucking good?? the stunts, the characters, everything. basically ghost protocol through fallout was where the series peaked.

14. HEADCANONS!!! most of mine are. pretty silly but i'll share them regardless!

i believe with all of my heart that ethan is definitely still a theater kid [in spite of all the retconning they've done you can take theatre major ethan out of my cold dead hands] and i think he does enjoy musicals. his favorites would probably be fiddler on the roof, les misérables, and hadestown. he has 100% cried during all of them.

benji enjoys horror, but only horror games because he cannot handle horror movies. he pondered for an entire week after playing mouthwashing for the first time.

luther is a foodie. he knows all the best places to eat in london because of how much time they've spent there, and he keeps an entire list of all of them that the team is still working through.

ilsa was briefly a film major, but she's still a sleeper cinephile. she doesn't seem like that kind of person at first glance, but once you start watching something with her and she starts pointing out different things like dialogue, camerawork, lighting, etc etc. it can either be very interesting or very annoying.

brandt has a surprising amount of knowledge about wildlife and he often startles the team whenever he mentions that the random bird they saw was actually a graylag goose.

hunley is a deceivingly good artist. like. the man paints and does printmaking in his spare time and his pieces are fucking gorgeous. he's had his stuff displayed before in small art galleries when he was in college but he unfortunately had to drop art as a career because of parental pressure, but he still does a lot of art in his spare time.

grace likes to collect trinkets, mainly vinyl pins. she's stolen so many from unsuspecting ita bags.

paris got introduced to cookie run kingdom and got into it way faster than she'd like to admit. it's mainly dark cacao cookie's fault.

degas would 100% be the one to bring a stray cat into the safehouse. actually he has done that before and he named her stormy cause she was grey. she's now the unofficial mascot of their team.

[kissyrafe]

christmas eve with rafe

cw: smut, fem!reader, rough sex, usage of the words "daddy", unprotected p in v sex (not proofread!!!)

notes: just spreading the holiday cheer! also first post so nervous

"can you please just tell me? pleeaseee..." you whined, shaking at the nicely wrapped presents underneath the tree, dying with anticipation. rafe let out a small chuckle "come on baby, it'll ruin the fun," his large hand pressed against your back, rubbing it in small circular motions. "jus' wait 'til the morning, then we can open our presents together." he spoke softly, enjoying the torture you were in.

"okay... but i better see uggs first thing in the morning." you let out a bratty sigh, placing the present back where it belonged.

you sat on the island's marble countertop in your cotton shorts, licking the cookie batter off of the holiday-themed spatula while rafe continued reading the next step on his phone. "okay so, i think we need to-" he rubbed his flour-covered fingers with his forehead before walking over to where you sat "y/n, stop eating the cookie dough." now standing right in front of you, he took the bowl, placing it down to your side. "no, you're not my father." you let out a small giggle before draping your arms over his shoulders as to not contaminate rafe's clothes with your hands that were covered in cookie dough ingredients. "oh? what about all those times in bed you called me, what was it, daddy?" his lips curled into a smug smirk, squinting his eyes at you teasingly. "shut up." you kissed rafe before he could say anything else, his hands landed on your hips, rubbing them tenderly. "y'know, you've been such a little brat today..." he murmured against your skin "from the presents 'til now," rafe's lips traveled down to your necks, nipping on your skin as he went, "i don't know what i should do with you."

you were currently bent over, your mouth hung agape, grunts and small moans flowing through with every thrust. your skin sunk into the cold marble, weak hands gripping the bowl and whisk as you stirred slowly with the help of rafe, too distracted by what was happening behind you. "c'mon baby, you got this." rafe whispered in your ear, his cock sinking into oh so slowly as he guided your hands. "p-please..." you managed to whimper out of your pathetic mouth, eyes shut. he was being so cruel.

"please what?" he teased you again, trying to draw an answer out of you, knowing damn well what you want. "please rafe, ah!⏤ daddy..." a particularly sharp thrust made your body jolt as you heard rafe give a dry chuckle. "go... faster," was all you could plead in this agonizing pleasure. he let out a small hum before biding to your demand, picking up his pace.

rafe was enjoying all of this. seeing you all needy and frustrated made him pity you in a sense, but he took amusement. after all, you deserve it. maybe it was the holiday feels or whatever, but you seemed to be so impatient today and wouldn't listen. rafe needed to teach you.

sounds of skin slapping and metal tapping mixed with each other as rafe fucked you at a relentless pace. by now, the cookies were forgotten as the only thing either of you cared about was how his cock slid against your tight and warm walls. your hands held onto the sides of the counter as you tried to steady yourself under your haze of pleasure. rafe fisted your hair, holding your head up as drool came from the corners of your mouth, dripping down to the counter. his other hand kneaded your plush vanilla-scented skin. "shit baby, pussy s' good," rafe's honey voice filled your ears, "uh⏤mmm..." was the only way you could respond as you couldn't even form words anymore. he tugged on your hair, pulling it to the side as he made you face him. "what's that? are you seriously fucked stupid by my dick?" rafe said in a smug tone, lovin' this all too much.

"come on pretty girl, use that sweet voice of yours and talk to me." he asked, his hand moving to hold your face, squeezing your cheeks in his calloused palm. "y-yes..." you softly moaned out, biting the inside of your mouth to hold back from making too much noise. "have you learned your lesson yet, huh?" rafe asked, feeling as though you were reaching your high from your moans alone. he just knew you and your body too well. you nodded frantically, begging for him to let you come. "please rafe... i'll be good⏤ promise!" your eyes opened a slight, looking at rafe's pleased expression. "c-cumming, rafe!" you shut your eyes again as your orgasm hit you, limbs weak. his dick guided you both through your euphoria, and rafe's high came soon after. "fuck, baby... you're so⏤" was followed by a stutter of thrusts and grunts from rafe, his hips snapping against your ass while spurts of hot cum filled you up.

you both are breathing heavily, and no words are exchanged after riding out your orgasms. rafe slowly pulled out of you, his cum leaking out with it. opening your eyes again, you see him with droplets of sweat hanging from his neck and forehead. turning around while maintaining eye contact, rafe plants a kiss on your plump lips.

"wanna get back to baking?"

[nejiverse]

"Kay so this is what I was thinking and hear me out first before you say anything", Satoru spoke to the three month old that was tucked against his chest while sucking on her fingers.

"You get boob time early in the morning, around like midday then in the afternoon, I was thinking like around two to three?”, the man tapped the pen in his hand against his cheek, trying to reach an agreement with his daughter…not like she had much of a choice anyway seeing as she was, well, three months old.

“Then the nights are all mine, you’ll probably be asleep anyway", he went through the timetable he'd written down on the back of a receipt he found lying on the kitchen table, face scrunched up in all seriousness, the tip of his tongue even making an appearance and poking out the side of his mouth.

"But Saturdays I want a little bit more time. They were my head rest before they were your feeding grounds remember that princess", he continued, booping her button nose.

"Toru what the hell!", you folded your arms, tapping a foot against the floor.

Satoru’s shoulders jerked up as if he had stolen a cookie from the cookie jar. “Hey!”, he frowned. “We’re having a very serious conversation over here and you’re interrupting”, he huffed.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah right. Like a one sided conversation with your three month old baby about boob rights is serious”. You never thought those words would ever come out of your mouth in the same sentence but here you were.

“It is very serious, we’re trying to keep the peace”, he glanced down at the girl who looked back up at him with big blue eyes. “Tell her peanut, we were making real progress!”.

The little girl’s gaze moved from her father to her mother, completely clueless as to what was going on.

It was brave of your husband to think he could have a serious conversation with someone whose greatest achievement to date was figuring out how to grab her own toes.

You stepped closer, getting a better look at the sheet of paper he was writing on and realising what it was. “Toru i literally still need this”, you waved the receipt in front of his face. There was no way you were going back to the store with a receipt that said “boob schedule” at the back in all caps followed by a gazillion exclamation marks.

“Babe focus, this is more important!”, he stressed, pointing at his absolutely atrocious handwriting. “I even gave her the golden hour in the morning. That’s when you’re at your most glowy and maternal, can’t be any more fairer than that”.

You blinked up at him. “Glowy..?”.

He grinned sheepishly. “Like a hot mom angel”.

Despite yourself, a laugh escaped.

“Well this schedule needs serious tweaking, she only just got here so she deserves more time”, you nodded.

“Hey! You’re not allowed to change the schedule without board approval!, Satoru exclaimed.

“My chest, my rules!”.

masterlist :)

reqs open

[hoshifighting]

how seventeen would act with reader having daddy issues

WARNINGS: it may be sensitive to some people, and there are mentions of past traumas and family issues. mostly of it is basically, seventeen and their family taking care of you <3

a/n: this was an ask that was in my inbox for a long time, sorry about this 🥺 and worse, I was writing it, and the light have gone off, so ivé lost the drabble and I cant find in my inbox, I just know that it was from my bestie hannieween, sorry about the long time 🥺🙏 I hope you like it

seungcheol: already planning how to spoil you just to make up for what you didn’t get. this man would not let you suffer through those awkward, tense family reunions. the second you even hint at feeling uncomfortable, he’s pulling you out of there and taking you straight to his family’s place. his dad, a total sweetheart. he’s the type to sit you down, ask how you’re doing, and genuinely listen. and that’s when it hits you—this is where seungcheol gets his protective streak. his dad’s got the same energy, always making sure you’re taken care of. it’s like you’re part of their family now, and honestly, it feels better than anything you’ve ever known.

jeonghan: he’s sneaky about it, but in the most loving way. like, he knows you’ve got that hole where support should be, and he’s filling it without making it obvious. he’d get his mom and dad to invite you over for a casual dinner, but then it’s all about you. “oh, y/n loves pasta, mom,” he’d say, nudging you under the table when you get shy. his parents adore you, and jeonghan’s sitting back, watching you laugh at his dad’s corny jokes with this smug little grin, like, yeah, that’s my baby.

joshua: he’d plan random trips to his family’s place, just so you can hang out with his mom. like, one weekend, you’re baking cookies with his mom, and the next, you’re playing guitar with his uncle. josh is always hovering, making sure you’re comfortable, but lowkey beaming when he sees you getting along with his family. he’s super patient, too—he never pushes, just waits for you to open up when you’re ready. and when you do... he’s holding your hand, whispering, “see? they love you, just like i do.”

junhui: he’d make sure you feel like you belong there too. he’d take you home during the holidays, and suddenly, his mom’s treating you like her own kid. jun would sit next to you at dinner, quietly making sure you’re okay, squeezing your hand under the table whenever he notices you getting overwhelmed. he’s just sitting there, watching it all unfold, thinking, yeah, this is what you deserve.

hoshi: this man would straight-up share his dad with you. like, he’d plan trips for the three of you—fishing, hiking, picnics, you name it. and he’d be so proud when you start opening up to his dad. he gets that it’s gonna take time, but when he sees you laughing at his dad’s terrible puns, he’s smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. sometimes, when hoshi’s away for schedules, you’d even hang out with his dad without him. he’ll be texting you like, “my dad loves you more than me now 😭.” and even when he’s away for work, his family still makes time for you, calling you over to hang out or have dinner.

woozi: jihoon’s not big on family talk, but he knows you are, and he gets it. instead of dragging you into his family stuff, he makes a point of creating a new kind of support for you. like, you want to skip a stressful family dinner? cool, you’re spending the night at his place, binge-watching your favorite shows and eating takeout. he’s not one for big gestures, but he makes sure you always know you’re not alone. his quiet, steady presence is the comfort you never knew you needed.

wonwoo: he’d just sit there, letting you talk, and then hit you with the most thoughtful response ever, like, “you didn’t deserve that, but you deserve everything good now. let me be that for you.” giving you the world’s warmest hug, he’d probably start joking about being your emotional support cat forever.

minghao: he fully believes in breaking cycles, so he’s the guy who helps you redefine what family even means. he’d take you to meet his ambient, his friends, his family, everywhere where he KNOWS you'll be taken care off. he’d also start little traditions with you, like Sunday morning walks or trying new restaurants, just to build something stable and comforting for you. he's not trying to be your dad—of course. but he's trying to make programs that he remembered doing with his dad and that somehow, marked his trajectory. he wants you to experience that too.

mingyu: when shit gets heavy, he doesn’t try to fix it all at once—he just sits with you, lets you cry on his shoulder, strokes your hair, and whispers, “you’re not alone, okay? you’ve got me.” when you’re ready, he’s like, “now, what do you want to do about it?” and he’ll back you no matter what. he’ll drag you out to do the most random shit—karaoke, late-night drives, baking cookies at 2 a.m.—just so you’re not stuck in your head. and when you thank him later, he’s like, “who, me? nah nah.”

seokmin: he is the kind of guy who’ll carry you—literally. if you’re overwhelmed, he’ll scoop you up like you weigh nothing and plant you on the couch with snacks, a blanket, and whatever dumb movie he picked. “you don’t need to do anything today,” he says, plopping down beside you with the softest smile. but also, he won’t sugarcoat things, but he also doesn’t let you get stuck in negative self-talk. “you’re worth more than what he made you feel.”

seungkwan: got a sixth sense for this kinda thing. you don’t even have to say the words—he knows. he’s the type to gently steer the convo every time someone in your family says something shitty, or he’ll swoop in with some sarcastic-ass joke to take the heat off you. but when it’s just the two of you, he’s soft as hell, cuddling you, stroking your hair, and reminding you that he’s your safe space now. he’d probably even offer to go with you to therapy, just to sit there and hold your hand.b

vernon: he’ll say the goofiest shit to make you laugh—like doing terrible impressions of your least favorite family members or purposely messing up on kendama. doesn’t even try to hide how much he loves you. when you’re down, he’s the type to turn everything into a you’re amazing campaign. random notes in your bag, impromptu “you’re so cool” chants, and hugs so tight they might crack your ribs.

chan: baby’s the sweetest. he’s lowkey hurt that you’ve had to deal with that kind of stuff, so he makes it his mission to show you what love and support really look like. chan’s family would love you, and he’d be so excited to share them with you. he’d plan little visits where it’s just you, him, and his parents, so it’s not overwhelming. later, he’d check in, like, “did you have fun? was it okay?” because all he wants is for you to feel loved and safe.

[milliesfishes]

౨ৎ꣑ৎshower with clark౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x clark kent

The hiss of the spray raining from the shower head loosened your taut muscles, and you released a sigh. Tilting your head back, you hummed softly, lifting your hands to smooth hair back from your face. You'd run a brush through before you stepped in, conscious of the tangles that would appear once you were done washing.

This was your safe place, where all the stress of the day melted into nothingness, swirling down the drain with anything else you'd collected during the day. You were long overdue for an everything shower, having skipped it for the past few days. There was nothing worse than a rushed shower. You wanted to take your time, to really relax. After the week you'd had, you felt you deserved it.

When the door clicked open, you perked up, pulling back the curtain and poking your head out. Water dripped from your hair onto the tile, but you hardly cared, a tired smile drawing your lips up.

Clark was rubbing his eye with one hand, stepping forward to cup your damp cheek with the other. "Baby." His voice was no more than a mumble, and your eyes wandered over him. Curls stuck to his forehead, wearing nothing except a pair of boxers.

Your shoulders relaxed, and you leaned against the side of the shower, tilting your head into his touch. "Wanna come in?"

His eyes lit up. "Yeah." You slid the shower curtain aside, watching him kick off his boxers before he got in. The water flattened his hair, and you reached up to push it out of his eyes.

Clark opened his arms, and you fell into them, pressing your cheek to his warm chest. One big hand smoothed over your hair, and he kissed the top of your head. "You left."

"I'm sorry, baby," you said softly, burrowing into him. "I didn't think you'd wake up."

His chin settled atop your head. "You can wake me up for showers. I like this. I love this," he corrected himself after a moment.

You tilted your head up, his arms around your back holding you upright. "I love it too."

He leaned down to kiss your forehead, eyes on the wall behind you. "You have a lot of pink soap."

"Mhm," you hummed, resting your cheek on his chest again. He'd never commented on it before, but it made you smile.

Clark's thumb rubbed up and down your lower back. "Is that why you always smell like a donut?"

A happy giggle bubbled up from your chest. "Donut?"

There was a pause, and he adjusted his arms comfortably around you. "You know...sweet."

"Yeah," you responded lazily, looking up at him. His eyes were sleepy, and you lifted your hands to cup his face. "Wanna try some?" The black and grey bottles of his own soap were lined up neatly next to yours, but you offered anyways. "Just one?"

Pausing for a moment, Clark used his fingers to scratch your back, and you nearly melted. "Which one?"

Reaching out from the confines of his arms, you plucked one up. "This one. Bodywash."

He leaned his cheek against your head, inhaling softly. "Okay." You squealed, causing him to jolt just slightly, but he shook it off and took the bottle from you. When you looked back up at him, he was smiling.

Showering with Clark wasn't an uncommon occurrence. You easily maneuvered around each other, swapping places on the shower bench and under the head. You borrowed the body wash back to shave, and he scrubbed at his curls, closing his eyes to rinse out his soap. It was hard to tear your eyes away from him, from the firm contours of his body, and how it looked when water was dribbling down his chest.

You knew him in every form- as the invincible hero and the quiet writer. Underneath it all was something soft, a man who melted under your touch and held you like a teddy bear at the end of every day. And here he was, rubbing your sugar cookie body wash all over him and grinning at you when he saw you watching. Clark's skin was thick, untouchable, but in times like these you could see his heart. It was bigger and brighter than anything you'd ever come across before.

You stood up for one more rinse, feeling clean and fluffy like you always did after a good wash. Clark capped the bottle he was holding, taking the razor from you and setting it on the pale pink shower caddy. He reached for you. "C'mere, honey."

Gladly, you settled back into him, feeling almost cocooned. He pressed a few kisses to your head, swaying back and forth so subtly it almost felt like a dream. Images of clouds and pastel rainbows and white fur blankets filled your mind like fog. This was always how it felt around him. Safe. Anywhere else you'd be on high alert, but when you were tucked away into him, your mind lapsed. It was like your body knew you were protected.

Getting out, Clark wrapped one of your fluffy towels around you before drying himself off. You covered your torso, reaching for your vanilla lotion, but he got to it first. "Let me?" When you nodded, he lifted you onto the counter, big hands on your waist, and knelt before you. While he worked on the first leg, you made quick work of brushing your hair, setting it to the side so you could look at him again. Leaning back on your hands, you watched him with sleepy eyes. The feeling of his hands on your smooth legs was a bonus to the calm you already felt.

He had you in his arms once he was done, and the trip to your room was a blur until he set you down into your bed, gentle and loving as always. The towel was removed, and he worked a shirt over your head, panties up your legs. With his hand under your head, Clark guided you to lay down, only leaving you for a second and reappearing on your other side to gather you into his arms. He smelled like your body wash.

The moon was glowing through the slit in the curtains, and you turned in his arms to push your head into his chest, hiding from the light. The overwhelming feeling of being taken care of flooded you, and you felt more relaxed than in months.

An 'I love you' was whispered into your hair before you drifted off. You squeezed his hand over your tummy. When you weren't half asleep in the morning, you'd make sure to say it back.

[speed-world]

do you think you could do one with Shadow milk cookie x reader, where reader is like his stage assistant, hypeman, supporting role kind of thing, reader is like fully fine with atrocities shadow milk

maybe something with like reader also having been sealed separately from the beasts so shadow milk would probably have to try and find where reader was sealed while the brave and others were running around

- :D

His partner in crime

You and Shadow Milk Cookie were almost like The Joker and Harley Quinn (minus the cycle of abuse-)

He always loves and appreciates whenever you help him out in setting up a play. Whether that be designing the characters with him, arranging the props and stage in the best condition, and even just rooting for him!

There are even times when you help him write out the script for his plays, which he adores so so very much!!

He’ll always make a point to credit you in the most dramatic and loving manner whenever you help him. And boy do I mean dramatic-

“Thank you all so so so so much for enjoying the show! But the real star that deserves the glory is my dazzling, extraordinary, and adorable~…Y/N Cookie!!!”

A giant spotlight was cast on you as confetti and ribbons popped out all over the audience. You smiled and bowed as Shadow Milk applauded you, and after a while, everyone started applauding you!! If they didn’t, then the jester made sure they would cheer for his assistant…”

There are times where in the middle of his performance, he allows a pause for you to applaud and cheer and for him!

Of course, all of the audience is free to do the same whenever that brief moment comes, but usually it’s only you. Granted, all he cares about is your praise and appreciation, so he doesn’t care if you’re the only one clapping for him.

When he was imprisoned by the Witches, you were…displaced. The Witches knew your connection to Shadow Milk, and sealed you to the far ends of Earthbread outside of the Beast-Yeast continent.

Shadow Milk was furious beyond belief when he saw you being sealed up too. You weren’t a Beast or did anything wrong like he did, so why were you being punished like this?!

It hurt him so much, especially because he couldn’t do anything but sit in that dang tree…

Granted, this wouldn’t stop you from doing everything you could to get back to Beast-Yeast, or more get back to Shadow Milk

When you two were finally reunited in the Faerie Kingdom, after both your seals were broken down, you both ignored GingerBrave, Elder Faerie, and everyone else there and went to a discreet place to yourselves.

While you were reconnecting the lost time, he told you about Pure Vanilla and the Witches, and you’d be right there to hold him if he got shaken up or cried when mentioning them. You hated the witches and Purr Vanilla Cookie just as much, if not more than he did.

When Pure Vanilla and his company caught up to you, it was you who personally a play where certain caricatures would reference the witches, Pure Vanilla, or any others that Shadow Milk wasn’t fond of. You wouldn’t have any mercy in disrespecting said caricatures in the plays, which Shadow Milk loved and cheered for!!

No matter what, you were always there to support Shadow Milk and his crazy antics. He would do the same, loving you and being with you through every single thing.

[no1blacksapphirefan]

for the Self Aware AU, I was wondering if I could request the Beast and Ancient cookies (and Black Sapphire and Elder Fairy Cookie) reacting to seeing the play working on something diligently for awhile with the app playing music in the background, the player sometimes picking them up to get a better look at them occasionally, and then after awhile they see the player in a Cosplay of said Cookie and that's what the player had been studying them so much for and working so diligently on?

I'd love to cosplay some of the cookies honestly but I can't buy a wig and they're usually expensive </3 Anywho, here's your request done!

((Wrote this when I was kinda eepy so please ignore any mistakes I made 🙏))

Shadow Milk He's trying to peer closely at what you're doing, darn this screen!! He's just curious why you seem to both be paying attention to him and not. What's gotten his favourite star all concentrated??

His eyes widen a bit as you came into view wearing a different outfit...his outfit, wearing a wig...that resembled him...oh he gets such an insanely happy and giddy smile. Giggling like a school girl as he sees you look over yourself happily.

He could get used to seeing you wear his own outfit, oh how he'd love to compliment you in person, you deserve all the praise and he doesn't think it deserves to be said through the screen.

Burning Spice You already got his attention as you have his cookie profile open, looking back and forth, seemingly working hard. You've been both paying attention to him but also he's been lacking it. He questions what could be so important that you're-

He can't help that large grin as he sees you wear an outfit similar to his, twirling around as you happily look into the mirror, bringing the phone with you so you can compare the two. He can't help but let out a loud laugh of delight, it might've startled you, he didn't mean it he promises!! He's just in such a delight seeing you're outfit.

You should, no have to wear it more often!! It suits you better than he could ever imagine. And if you do continue to wear it on different occasions? Oh he's so prideful about it.

Mystic Flour She's rather confused at first, were you just admiring her? So be it. Though with the fact you're only glancing at her? She feels there's something else with the way you continue to look at her closely before placing your attention on something else.

She pauses for a moment as she sees you appear wearing similar attire to her own. Not only her attire but her hair and veil. Do you wish...to be her? She can't say she's unhappy, the way you look is absolutely amazing.

While she wouldn't be looking to see if you wore her attire again, she'll be very happy if you do. She thinks it suits you, perhaps if you come to her world she'll let you wear the actual outfit of hers.

Pure Vanilla He's so curious, what's gotten his birdie attention that requires looking at him? Were you drawing him? Oh he'll be so honoured. He'd love to see how you draw him and if he can he would hang whatever it is on his wa-

He's so surprised to see you come into view and you're wearing his outfit. So that's what you've been working on! You even made your own staff, oh you're so creative and you used that skill on him!! He's so happy to see it. He's fascinated by your handiwork.

He'd love to see you wear it again! Just spotting you holding onto the staff you made is enough for him honestly, he's all smiley and happy when he sees it.

White Lily She waits patiently, she assumes you'll come back and play the game. There's a reason you opened up the game anyways right? She's willing to wait even if she wants to know why you keep looking at her and than away.

She nearly lets out a gasp seeing you wear her outfit. Wearing things she wore. Did you want to be her? Really? She's so surprised and flustered on the inside. If you decide to cosplay Dark Enchantress Cookie inside? She'll be mouth agape, you look happy though so...

She gets a bit blushy every time she spots you wearing the cosplay of her. She thinks you look nice and is so honoured you seem to want to wear her outfit.

Hollyberry Patiently awaiting until she has your attention again. She doesn't mind waiting! Besides you seem pretty concentrated, she won't interrupt you even if she could. Just waits happily until you come back.

Her smile widens more as soon as she sees you come into view. I feel she knows decently what a cosplay is. And she's so happy you've chosen her to cosplay. She admires all the little details you've put into making the outfits. No wonder you looked at her so intently at some times.

She'll love to see you wear it again, and if she can? I see her wanting to do the same. Gathering cloths and such to try and wear a similar outfit to yours. Style a wig so it fits you perfectly as well. it'll be the perfect matching outfit!!

Golden Cheese She waits as well, but becomes almost impatient after awhile. She'll still wait for you, she always will. But what's taking you so long?? Don't you need to do a bit of arena?? Here she'll solo, just come back soon-

Her eyes widen in surprise before her she grins like mad. Of course you'd want to look like her, she admires your handiwork. How the outfit you're wearing is near perfect to hers and how the wig you're wearing is styled just like hers. You've just boosted her ego by 10.

You have to wear it often!! Even 24/7 (She knows you can't) she adores how you look. Please wear it more for her :)

Dark Cacao He didn't take notice. Well he did, any cookie would realise how your attention seems to be on two things at once but he didn't mind. It was rather tranquil, besides aside from small curses he'd hear fall from your mouth.

When he sees what you've been working on, he's more than surprised. How long did that take? Surely not the amount of time you two have spent sitting together right? This must've taken days if not weeks. He can't say he's unhappy though, you look fantastic. You even made your own sword!!

The memory of you wearing that outfit is forever in graved into his mind, while he doesn't mind seeing it again and he'll be more than happy to witness just that. He thinks it's much more magical the first time he saw it.

Black Sapphire Oh he wants to grab your attention and he knows it wouldn't be too hard. But you seem far to concentrated on something and he swears he saw a needle in your hands. He'd rather not hurt you by accident.

All that annoyance of waiting disappears as he sees you wear...his outfit? His hair? Omg even his mic??? He knew he had fans but never would he think he'd have someone who wanted to look like him. Oh he's more than honoured. You look fantastic, dare he says you look better than him?

Wear it more often, he encourages it. He won't force you but he'll try his best to hint for you to wear it. And if other cookies are around when that happens? He's more than quick to point it out proudly.

Elder Faerie What's going on in that mind of yours he wonders. You seem rather interested. He can tell your sewing something, then styling and then crafting but he can't put it together on what you seem to be doing.

Until you come into view, admiring yourself in your mirror as you see how you look. You look fantastic in his outfit. And he can tell so much thought went into it, you didn't seem to miss ANY detail and he's more than impressed.

He'd love to see it again, it's not a need or anything but any time he sees you wear that outfit again he's instantly put into a happy mood, the faerie knights can tell how much seeing you cosplay him puts him in a good mood.

[kjhbsies]

Baked With Love

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Smallville Clark Kent x popular reader

synopsis: Y/N was the popular girl who wore her heart on her sleeve—for him. But Clark, caught between fear and pride, kept pushing her away… until her absence finally made him realize what he had lost.

wordcount: 3,505

note: 16+ angst to fluff

For most of his college life, Clark Kent had genuinely no idea why you liked him so much. It all began on a very unfortunate afternoon when Lex Luthor introduced you two. Lex had said...

"Clark, this is Y/n. She's a family friend from the city. Be nice."

You were effortlessly intimidating— born in a silverspoon, a wardrobe that looked like it walked straight out of a fashion magazine cover, and a confidence that Clark couldn't even fathom. You were loud, bold, smart-mouthed, and just happened to be jaw-droppingly pretty. Clark tried not to think about it, but he failed miserably.

Clark didn't feel uneasy with you, per se. But you weren't exactly his to pick for "people I'd like to be trapped in a room with." Not because you were mean. No, you were actually weirdly nice. You just had this energy. An unshakable presence that made Clark, the most powerful being on Earth, feel like an awkward schoolboy with sweaty palms.

One day, you popped in the barn, saying something about "needing fresh country air." Then the next week, you were lounging in his loft like you owned it, flipping through one of his books like you weren't just sitting in the sacred space of solitude he thought only he and Lana would occupy. Then there was the time you baked cookies and just showed up at the Kent kitchen, and Clark genuinely thought Martha had invited you. She didn't.

It was like you were on a personal mission to infiltrate every square inch of his life— and you were doing it so casually that no one really questioned it. Not even Clark.

Until Pete started teasing.

"Hey, look. Your girlfriend's here."

Clark would turn with a flush in his ears. "She's not my—"

But Pete was already laughing.

Even Chloe had chimed in. "You know, Y/n's got her sights on you, right? Like a missle. Might as well surrender."

Clark had no response to that. Mainly because he had just run into you in the hallway and accidentally inhaled whatever perfume you were wearing, which now lived permanently in his brain.

You'd greet him like it was the most natural thing in the world— "Hey, Clarkie." With that little smug grin like you knew you made him nervous. And maybe you did. Okay. Fine. You definitely did.

But to be honest, Clark didn't find any of it funny anymore.

Sure, despite being one of the popular girls on campus, you never acted like it. You were popular, yeah, but not in the usual sense— people gravitated towards you because you had personality. You were brilliant in class, always raising your hand with the kind of answers that made instructors nod like proud parents. You were involved in different university organizations, and somehow, you still made the President's List every semester like it was no big deal.

Basically, you were the kind of girl that many people admire. And yet, somehow, you had decided to direct that same energy to Clark. And it wasn't subtle, either.

You brought him snacks. You had saved him a seat in the library. You texted him stupid memes at night. You even helped him with his Physics project once— and looked good doing it, too, in that annoyingly cute shirt and eyeglasses.

But Clark had brushed it all off. It's not like he didn't find you attractive. He did. Painfully so.

You were a lightning in a bottle— vibrant, driven, and bold. And he was just... Clark. The farm boy with secrets a size of a planet, who spent most of his nights chasing off meteoric weirdos and hiding his abilities from half the people in this town.

You deserved someone normal. Someone who wasn't still half-tangled in the heartbreak that was Lana Lang.

You arrived at the Kent farm with a basket in hand, your smile as sweet as the scent of the freshly baked pastries you brought.

"Oh, Y/n. You always bring something so delightful." Martha beamed, ushering you in.

Clark, leaning against the barn wall, tried not to stare. You were just... too much. Too pretty, too kind, too good to be real. His mom always looked at you with sparkling eyes, and Jonathan always seemed to feel the same way.

When the two of you were finally alone, you turned to him, hopeful.

"So... you free this Saturday?" You asked casually, hopping to sit on a slab of wood. "It's my birthday. Lex is hosting something in his house. Nothing too crazy, just a small thing. A few people, food, music. Chloe and Pete are also invited. I was hoping you could come?"

Clark looked up from the hay he was pretending to be interested in. Your eyes were soft, curious, and earnest. He hated it.

"I... uh, I might be busy. Football stuff. The season's picking up, and my parents are going to be out of town this weekend. I'll probably be covering some chores."

You blinked once and then smiled faintly.

"Oh..." You said, trying to hide your disappointment. "Well, it's open if you change your mind."

You left him a cupcake on the table. Vanilla with pink frosting and sprinkles. He didn't eat it.

And Saturday came fast.

You woke up with butterflies in your stomach. Your room was filled with balloons Lex insisted having delivered, despite your protests. "It's your birthday, Y/n. Let people celebrate you for once." He argued.

You liked Clark. A lot. It wasn't some game. Not some challenge your friends had dared you to do. You weren't being ironic. Your feelings were real— surprisingly real— and Lex had raised an eyebrow once, muttering something like, "Well, that was unexpected."

But he didn't understand. Clark was real in ways no one else around you ever was. He didn't care about money or popularity or image. He was awkward and shy, yet grounded. And you loved that about him.

So you got ready. You wore your favorite dress. You styled your hair. You told yourself he'd show up. He had to.

By 8:00 PM, the living room was warm and full of laughter. Music played softly in the background. Your friends chattered around the dinner table, passing drinks and stories.

"Clark's coming?" Lex asked you as he handed you a drink.

You shrugged, smiling tightly. "I hope so."

Chloe had shown up with a gift and a knowing smile. "Clark and Pete didn't say anything to me. But maybe they're just late."

You nodded. But the hours passed.

9.00. No Clark.

10:00. Still nothing.

By 10:30, your phone screen was painfully blank, and your stomach had started twisting into knots.

By 11:00, the guests started filtering out. Some hugged you and wished "happy birthday" with laughter and light hearts. But all you could feel was this hollow building up in your chest. He wasn't coming; he never was.

"Come on," Lex said gently, wrapping a gentle arm around your shoulders. "Let's go back inside. Stop waiting for someone who won't show."

Unbeknowst to you, Clark was not at home. Wasn't working on some chores. He was at a party across the town. A big one— loud music, red solo cups, beer pongs, too many football jerseys, and girls hanging around. Pete and Clark had been invited there, and both of them reluctantly showed up.

Clark drank a lot. Way more than he should've. But not enough to get drunk (he couldn't, anyway), but just enough to blur the guilt.

The sun hadn't even reached its peak yet when you arrived at the Kent farm, your hands cradling a tray of leftover cake—chocolate hazelnut with buttercream, the one you baked yourself because it reminded you the first time Clark ever complimented something you made. You told yourself it wasn't a big deal. Just a small peace offering. Just a way to see him.

Maybe, you thought, he regretted not showing up. Maybe you could laugh it off, hand him a slice, tell him he owed you one, and pretend like the silence between you hadn't cut through your chest the night before.

But as you reached a gravel path leading to their porch, your steps faltered. An unfamiliar girl emerged from the front door. Probably your age. Wearing one of Clark's flannel shirts, barely buttoned. Her hair was a mess, her lipstick smudged, like she had just woken up.

You took a step backwards, hiding from their line of sight.

And then came Clark. Topless. Barefoot. Looking like a tragic painting of betrayal in broad daylight, sunlight washing over his body like it was trying to make him look holy. But there was nothing sacred about the red kiss marks littering his neck or the one at the corner of his mouth.

The girl turned, smiling up at him before heading to her car. And before she got in, she tiptoed and planted a soft, small kiss on his cheek.

He smiled back. Not awkwardly. Not nervously. Like it was easy.

You quickly backed away, ducking behind the side of the barn as Clark went back inside his house. The pain burned inside of you. It was sickening and humiliating.

God, you thought, I wore my favorite dress last night just for him.

Without a second thought, you immediately found the nearest trash bin and shoved the cake in with trembling fingers. You walked away without looking back.

"Why didn't you show up at Y/n's birthday party?" Chloe asked sharply, catching Clark mid-page of the local meteor-rock incident report. Pete, just beside him, visibly flinched and gave him a look.

Clark blinked. "What?"

"You heard me." Chloe leaned across the table, arms crossed. "She was excited to see you, you know? Lex threw the thing in his house. It wasn't exactly as small as one would expect. So where were you?"

Pete tried to focus on his apple juice.

"I... we were busy. Football thing. Plus, I didn't think it was a big deal. I mean, she was always around, right? I figure she'd understand."

"Always around?"

Clark sighed. "She's just... always there, alright? Popping out of corners. Bringing pastries at 7 AM. Sitting in my loft like she owns it It's annoying. She's always tailing me, and I never asked her to."

Silence.

Even Pete stopped sipping on his juice.

And behind the bookshelves, hidden just out of sight, Y/n froze.

You had only come in to return Chloe's notes in your shared Philosophy class. You weren't even going to say hi. You were keeping your distance— just like you promised yourself.

"She's not so bad like you made it seem, Clark." You heard Chloe.

"I just want some peace," Clark muttered, clearly annoyed.

"You can't run away from her forever."

"I'd be glad to try."

But Clark didn't have to because that same week, you became an enigma after that. He didn't even have to dodge around the barn. Didn't have to wake up seeing your face first in the morning. You weren't popping in with muffins or sticking heart-shaped post-it notes around his loft window. You weren't waving at him in the hallways. You were just gone.

His brows furrowed every time he walked past your locker and found it unopened. He found himself always glancing at the entrance of their barn more than once, hoping you'd finally show up one morning. At the farmer's market, he wandered longer than necessary at the baking aisle booth, wondering if you'd suddenly walk by.

You didn't.

Jonathan asked him to take out the trash. And Clark, half annoyed, half distracted, grabbed the bin from the porch and stomped towards the compost. But when he opened the lid, he saw a cake box. Pink polka dots, cute bow— the one you always used.

His stomach dropped.

What's it doing in here?

Clark's grip on the edge of the box tightened. Guilt rolling in immediately.

You weren't annoying. You were just kind. Consistent. Loud in a good way. You liked him, and he treated it like a problem. And now, he realized what kind of an asshole he was.

He had to apologize. But he didn't know where to start. Finding you was not an easy task, either. He wandered through the halls, eyes scanning every classroom, but you weren't there. He went to the farmer's market three mornings in a row— hoping— praying— you'd be there. But you weren't.

He had gone two full weeks without a glimpse of you. He hated to admit how often he found himself pausing during the day, waiting. Hoping.

So when Lex rolled into their farm one day in one of his new ridiculously expensive cars, Clark barely noticed. He was too busy dragging the hay until he heard Lex's voice.

"Clark," Lex said, grinning. "Hope I'm not interrupting you."

And then Clark saw you.

You stepped out of the passenger seat, wearing jeans and a simple cropped tee, hair styled neatly. No designer boots. No bold lipstick. But Clark swore his lungs forgot to work.

You offered him a polite nod. "Hey, Clark."

And that was it.

Lex greeted the Kents, asking for a quick word inside. And then, it was just the two of you, sitting in silence, like strangers.

You took a seat on one of the old wooden benches, thumbing through your phone. Clark awkwardly stood by the wooden door for a few seconds, pretending to dust his hands, eyes flicking towards you every five seconds.

He cleared his throat, stepping closer. "Lex got a new car."

You didn't look up. "Yeah, Lamborghini. He won't stop talking about it."

Clark scratched the back of his neck. "It's... nice."

"Yeah."

Silence again.

"Look, I— I'm sorry about your birthday. Me and Pete... we couldn't come."

You finally glanced up. "It's okay; you were busy."

Clark nodded, unable to say something else, especially now that you seemed uninterested in what he was going to say.

Earlier that week, he had stormed inside the Torch like a man possessed. Chloe looked up from her computer with an annoyed glare.

"Can't you see I'm busy?" She snapped, clicking through the keyboard.

Clark ran a frustrated hand along his hair. "I need a bit of advice. About Y/n."

Chloe didn't even look up. "Wow. That only took, what, half the semester? You realize she's been MIA, right? Like, completely ghosted. And now you want to talk?"

Clark sighed. "Chloe, please."

She glanced up, her eyebrows shooting up when she heard how desperate and wrecked he was.

"She won't even look at me now. She used to be everywhere, and now it's like she never existed. And— I— I don't know."

"You miss her."

"I do," He admitted. "I didn't think I would, but I do. It's like— I keep looking for her. Like she's supposed to be there, and when she's not—God, Chloe. It was driving me nuts."

And then she'd told him to just talk to you. Simple. Direct. No weird detours.

So when Lex called about the delivery that Thursday, Clark had thought maybe this is it. Maybe this was the moment the universe was finally giving him another shot. He had practiced a dozen versions of the same line in his head.

But when you descended the stairs in that usual, effortless way, bored eyes locked into the screen of your phone, he realized immediately— something had changed.

"Lex isn't here." You said, eyes darting at the box he was carrying. "You can leave it in the kitchen."

"I know," He replied, a little breathless. "I was hoping you'd be home."

You paused. "Really?"

Clark nodded, setting down the box of fruits and vegetables. "Been doing alright?"

You shrugged. "Same old. You?"

"Maybe." He shifted nervously. "I— I'm free this Saturday. If you wanted to— I dunno, go by the lake with us. Just hanging out."

You looked at him. "You don't have to pretend, you know?"

Clark blinked. "Pretend? I— I wasn't—"

"It's fine, Clark. If you don't like me, you could just say it to my face. I'm a smart girl, Clark. I'll understand whatever reason you have."

"But I don't—" He tried to move forward, to explain, but you were already walking away from him.

Down Main Street, past the closed café and the silent bookstore, hands in his jacket pockets, brows furrowed so deeply, Clark found himself walking in the streets of Smallville. His boots scuffed against the pavement with every distracted step, and his mind was loud— too loud.

He was driving himself mad.

So when Lex pulled up next to him in his Lamborghini, rolling down the window and watching Clark with one raised brow, it was hard to look anywhere but embarrassed.

“Late night for a stroll,” Lex said casually, but his eyes were sharp. Observing. “Don’t tell me the world’s strongest farm boy is out here moping.”

Clark gave him a dry look but didn’t deny it. Didn’t even try.

Lex tilted his head. “You look like hell.”

“I feel like it,” Clark muttered.

Lex leaned his elbow on the edge of his window. “This about Y/N?”

Clark stopped walking.

Lex gave a small, knowing smile. “Figured.” There was silence for a beat, and then Lex said, almost thoughtfully, “You know… You really got the wrong idea about her.”

"Clark looked down. "Oh, yeah?"

Lex looked away briefly before adding, “Did you know that she waited by the door longer than she’d ever admit on her birthday? Kept peeking at the window, fixing her dress— her favorite one. And then, when you didn't show up, I know that broke her heart.”

Clark swallowed hard. "I..." He shook his head, trying so hard to convey coherent words but failing to do so.

“Don’t screw this up, Kent,” Lex said more gently now. “You think you’re the only one scared? That girl was brave enough to love you in front of everyone. Maybe it’s your turn.”

Clark didn’t speak. He just reached into his pocket, pulled out his truck keys, and offered them to Lex.

Lex raised a brow. “What’s this?”

“I need your car,” Clark said, almost urgently.

Lex blinked. “You’re not going to wreck it, are you?”

“No promises,” Clark replied, already moving.

Lex rolled his eyes, but tossed him the keys anyway. “She’s at my house. Kitchen. Baking. Don’t ask what time it is.”

Clark was already gone before the sentence ended, a streak of blur and hope trailing behind him.

You were baking again.

It was your comfort. Your reset button. The world could fall apart but give you flour, eggs, and your favorite playlist and you could pretend everything was fine for a few hours.

You didn’t expect to hear tires screech in Lex’s driveway. Didn’t expect heavy, rushed footsteps across the porch. Didn’t expect the door to swing open like something out of a dramatic rom-com.

Clark Kent stood there, breathless.

Hair wind-swept. Cheeks flushed. Eyes wild with emotion. He looked like he’d run across all of Smallville just to get here. He had.

“Y/N..."

You blinked at him, surprised, a spoon still in your hand. “Clark?”

“I— I need to talk to you,” he said, stepping inside before you could shut him out. “Please. Just hear me out. I won’t screw it up this time.”

“Clark, I’m kind of—busy—”

“Please.”

You froze.

“I was stupid, okay?” He said. “I was scared. You’re… everything. You’re so vibrant and loud and brilliant, and I thought I wasn’t enough for that. I thought I couldn’t keep up with someone like you. But I was wrong. You make me better.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Clark beat you to it again.

“I like you,” He breathed. “I really like you. And I don’t want to keep pretending I don’t. I don’t want to keep lying to myself that losing you is somehow better than facing how much I care.”

You stared at him, heart thudding. “Clark…”

He looked desperate. “Please say something.”

“I liked you first. But that doesn’t mean I want to be someone you settle for. I don’t want to be some spontaneous decision because you’re lonely.”

Clark shook his head, stepping closer. “You’re not. You’re not a decision. You’re the only thing I’m sure of right now.”

There was still doubt in your eyes. Still guardedness.

So Clark did the only thing he could think of to prove he meant every word.

He kissed you.

Gently at first— carefully, like you were made of glass. But then you responded, melting into it with a small sigh, hands finding his chest, and it deepened— slow and sweet and real.

When you finally pulled away, slightly breathless and a little dazed, he leaned his forehead against yours.

“You’re it for me,” He whispered. “I didn’t see it before. But I do now.”

You smiled, just a little. “You’re gonna owe me, Clarkie.”

“I’ll bake,” He offered.

You laughed. “You can’t even toast a bread.”

He grinned, his heart lighter than it had been in weeks. “Then I’ll learn.”

©kjhbsies

[thewritingfairy]

↪ 04. Distraction is the best medication inspired by acid-ixx, rizzanon and nikovraskol

PREV PART trigger warnings: medical + emotional/physical neglect, high pain, flashbacks, enabling, shouting main m.list series m.list

 

Your baking had been a success, your cake for mama Angelica was perfect. The decoration (courtesy of your friend Flora) looked gorgeous, your cookies were smelling amazing, and the cake you made from left over batter looked delicious. You just couldn’t wait to try them, but right now the kitchen must be cleaned. You just need a minute to catch your breath, so you sit down on the kitchen stool but something feels off. You feel dizzy, more so then usual. “I need to stay seated for a while,” you blurt out, causing your friends to stop chatting. Your eyes unfocused, your hands shaking just ever so light. But most importantly, you looked like you were about to drop death. “I’ll help with the clean up-”

“How long has it been since you’ve eaten?” Maria interrupts you, grabbing a glass out of the cupboard as your youngest friend, Willow, grabs a cookie and hands it you. “you look like you haven’t eaten all day.”

You hum nervously; “Well, I might have only eaten an apple before I left the house….”

“...You better be joking,” Maria hisses as she gives you a glass of water. “you are eating that cookie, rest while we clean this up and then I am going to make you a meal.” You giggle nervously, however Maria isn’t playing around. Neither are the rest of your friends. “Doesn’t that butler, mr. Pennyworth, always make sure you eat before you leave?”

You throw your head back as you sigh; “Jason and Richard are at the manor.”

Your friends blink and turn to look at each other. “That Jason?” Francis, Willow’s older brother and one of your closest friends, asks. “The Jason that should be in jail?”

“You mean the Jason that faked his death?!” Willow shouts before you could respond. “The bitch ass that got Mr Wayne to disregard you even more, the bitch ass that destroyed your mother’s heirlooms?!”

Maria whistles anxiously, signalling to your other friends that it’s time to clean up. Francis and Willow are a duo that you do not want to cross when they are pissed off. You wince and rub your arm gently. You’re too exhausted and too pain ridden to talk about this right now. “Guys, I don’t really want to talk about this in my current state,” when those words left your mouth Francis and Willow’s expression soften, they don’t want to cause you stress. But their anger at Jason coming over to the manor was something you could understand. It’s anger you feel as well. It’s anger that has consumed you since the day Jason got that terrifying crazed look in his eyes and destroyed the last view things you had of your mother. But that anger meant Jason had a hold over you, that he had power of you, and now you’ve let go of that anger. Jason doesn’t deserve anything when it comes to you.

He doesn’t deserve your anger, he doesn’t deserve your tears, your mother does and ancestors do. You tried to fix the heirlooms and most you were able to save, but you still had a box full of shards and remains of heirlooms that were even older than the whole Wayne family combined. You still hold the grief of never learning about your mother’s family, you still hold grief over the things you never learned.“He no longer has any power over me,” you whisper, your voice breaking as tears threaten to fall down your face. “I just don’t want to see him.”

“And that’s alright,” Francis whispers, sitting in front of you on his knees as he takes your hand. “as Maxwell always says, chose your own peace. Not what makes them more comfortable.”

“However,” Willow interjects. “Do eat, your body needs nutrition. Especially with what it goes through every day.”

“….I know, I just wasn’t hungry,” you say as you felt the need to justify your actions. “I was nervous for that job interview, wow.”

“Yeah who knew Penguin would be such a good employer,” Maria comments as she takes out a pan from the pantry. “Why don’t you guys go sit in the living room, my parents and sister aren’t coming home until like 8 pm so we can just watch whatever on the TV.”

Flora gasps dramatically. “We are re-watching Winx the rainbow seasons!”

“Fine by me,” you say with a shrug. “can someone help me get over to the couch though? I still feel a bit light-headed and I do not trust my legs right now.”

“Understandable,” Willow hums as she helps you up and intertwines your arms. “especially with how clumsy you can be. Like who thought of that combination?”

“The universe.” Francis deadpans.

“Bitch.” Willow curses as she sticks her tongue out.

You’re glad, distraction is the best medicine against high pain (and quite frankly the Rainbow version of the early Winx seasons are amazing and filled with nostalgia). Your brain was no longer focused on the extremes of what could have happened if life went differently. Sure, your pain’s still prevalent and your eyes are heavy with exhaustion. But you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

“Alright who wants a plate besides (Name)?”

this chapter will have a side story diving deeper into what Jason did (you won't need to read this for future chapters but it will give more context), thank you for reading<3 NEXT PART

Taglist: @prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue, @shadowytravelerlover, @1abi, @leeiasure, @frank-vanderboom, @stove-top96, @amber-content, @lithiumval, @bunniotomia, @chericia, @marsmabe, @cssammyyarts, @lingxio, @foolishseven, @kore-of-the-underworld, @bunbunboysworld, @homeless-clown, @alwaysholymilkshake, @miashico, @kittzu

[cherryxbooo]

I’ll do anything to make you happy

Summary: You were excited for winter break to start because it meant one thing: spending more time with Lando. But little did you know, that was the one thing you wouldn't be getting.

Reader x Lando Norris

Genre: fluff/angst

Winter always held a special kind of charm for me.

The frosty mornings, cozy blankets, and steaming cups of cocoa had always made this season my favorite.

But this year, it held a different promise: Lando finally had a break from racing.

After months of hectic schedules, jet-setting across the globe, and stolen moments in between races, I was looking forward to having him all to myself.

At first, it was everything I’d imagined and more.

We spent lazy mornings tangled in bed, with me teasing him about his messy hair while he pulled me closer, claiming I was his personal heater.

Breakfasts turned into brunches because we couldn’t stop talking or joking around.

We watched movies, baked cookies that turned out terrible, and played endless rounds of Mario Kart, which I always managed to win.

“You’re only winning because I’m letting you,” Lando said one evening, his grin teasing as he tossed the controller onto the couch.

“Sure you are,” I replied, laughing as I grabbed my victory snack from the table.

Those first few days felt like we were in our own little world, where nothing else mattered but us.

But soon, reality began creeping in.

It started innocently enough.

“Babe, Max just called,” Lando said one morning, leaning against the counter with his coffee mug in hand.

“He’s organizing a karting session. Shouldn’t take long.”

I smiled, my heart swelling with pride.

Racing was his passion, and I loved seeing him happy. “Go have fun. Just don’t let him beat you.”

“Never,” he said with a wink, kissing my temple quickly before heading out.

That day, I didn’t mind the quiet. I worked on some projects, caught up with friends, and even took a long bath.

By the time he got home, his cheeks were flushed with cold, and he couldn’t stop talking about how much fun he’d had.

But karting soon turned into golf.

Golf turned into poker nights. And poker nights turned into outings that stretched late into the night.

“I’ll be back soon,” he’d text, always with a heart emoji. But “soon” became later and later each time.

I told myself it was fine. He deserved this break.

He’d worked so hard all year, and if spending time with his friends helped him unwind, who was I to complain?

But as the days wore on, the house began to feel emptier, and so did I.

One evening, I decided to surprise him with his favorite dinner.

I spent hours in the kitchen, setting the table with candles and dimming the lights for a cozy atmosphere.

When Lando walked through the door, his expression softened as he took in the setup.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.

“I wanted to,” I replied, smiling up at him.

“You’ve been so busy, and I thought it’d be nice to have a quiet night together.”

“That’s so sweet,” he said, leaning down to kiss me.

“But the guys are waiting for me. I promised I’d meet them for drinks tonight. Let’s rain check this?”

My smile faltered, but I nodded. “Of course.”

He kissed me again and was out the door before I could say anything more.

I sat down at the table, staring at the empty chair across from me.

The candles flickered, their light reflecting off the untouched plates. I took a deep breath, telling myself it was okay.

But deep down, a tiny crack had formed in my heart.

Days turned into weeks, and the cracks only deepened.

Lando’s absence became more noticeable, and I began to feel like a ghost in our own home.

One evening, after scrolling through endless photos of him with his friends on Instagram, I called Mia, my best friend.

“What’s wrong?” she asked the moment she picked up.

I sighed, the weight of my emotions pressing down on me.

“It’s Lando. He’s been spending so much time with his friends lately, and I feel like I’m… invisible.”

Mia was quiet for a moment before saying, “Y/N, you’re not invisible. But you need to talk to him. He’s not a mind reader.”

“I don’t want to seem clingy,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re not clingy. You’re his girlfriend. He should want to spend time with you. Talk to him.”

Her words gave me the push I needed. That night, when Lando came home, I gathered my courage.

“Can we talk?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Of course,” he said, sitting down next to me.

I took a deep breath.

“I’ve been feeling… neglected lately. I know you’re enjoying your break, and I want you to have fun, but I miss us. I miss you.”

He frowned, reaching for my hand.

“Babe, I’m sorry if it feels that way. But I’m here now, aren’t I?”

I nodded, but his words didn’t ease the ache in my chest. Before I could say more, he kissed me and stood up.

“Max needs help with something,” he said, grabbing his keys. “Love you!”

And just like that, he was gone. Again.

I tried my best to push away all negative thoughts until I thought about the positive ones.

Our second anniversary was just days away, and I held onto the hope that he’d make it special.

I told myself the late nights didn’t matter. He was probably planning something incredible for our anniversary.

The next day,

The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft golden hues.

I stretched lazily, a content smile curling my lips as I reached across the bed.

My fingers met cold sheets. The space beside me was empty.

I frowned, the giddy excitement I had woken up with faltering.

Today was our second anniversary.

I had imagined waking up wrapped in Lando’s arms, whispering sleepy “Happy anniversary” wishes before sharing breakfast together.

Instead, he was gone.

I also realized that I hadn't heard him come back last night.

He told me he was just helping Max out with something, but he probably went out partying with his friends afterward, again.

I tried to shake off the disappointment as I climbed out of bed, brushing my hair out of my face.

Maybe he had planned a surprise and needed to step out early.

A flutter of hope lifted my spirits as I grabbed my robe and headed toward the kitchen.

The scent of coffee greeted me, but there was no sign of Lando.

Instead, on the counter, I found a note written in his familiar scrawl:

“Gone golfing with the guys. Be back later. Love you.”

My heart sank. Golfing? On our anniversary?

I swallowed the lump rising in my throat, trying to focus on the fact that he had said he’d be back later.

He wouldn’t forget our dinner, right?

We’d planned this evening together weeks ago, and I’d been looking forward to it ever since.

I folded the note and placed it aside, telling myself not to overthink it. He would be back in time.

He promised.

After a quick breakfast, I set to work preparing for the evening.

My heart thudded with a mix of excitement and nervousness as I laid out my plans.

Lando had been so busy lately, and this was my chance to remind him how much I loved him, despite everything.

I spent hours in the kitchen, cooking all his favorite dishes: his go-to pasta, a roasted chicken dish he always requested, and even the dessert I’d failed at three times before finally perfecting.

The smells of herbs, garlic, and chocolate filled the apartment, making it feel warm and inviting.

Between stirring pots and chopping vegetables, I took breaks to set up the dining table.

I draped it with a soft cream tablecloth, adding candles and a scattering of rose petals for a romantic touch.

Fairy lights hung along the walls, casting a cozy glow that made the space feel magical.

On the counter, I carefully placed his gift, a sleek watch he had admired months ago but never bought for himself.

Not forgetting to attach a handwritten note to the box.

With everything ready, I checked the clock.

It was almost evening. So I had to hurry up to get ready.

I slipped into the dress I had chosen weeks ago, a soft, fitted number I knew he loved on me.

My makeup was simple yet elegant, and I added the finishing touch, a spritz of the perfume Lando had gifted me for my last birthday.

I felt beautiful, excited, and nervous all at once as I sat on the couch, watching the clock.

Five minutes passed. Then ten.

By the time twenty minutes had gone by, I grabbed my phone, texting him a quick, “Hey, are you on your way?”

No response.

An hour later, I texted again. Then called. Still nothing.

My excitement turned into a gnawing worry that sat heavy in my chest.

Where was he? Had he forgotten?

Two hours passed.

The candles on the table had burned down halfway, their flickering flames reflecting off the now-cold plates of food.

The fairy lights, once magical, now felt like mockery.

Finally, three hours later, I gave up.

Tears stung my eyes as I blew out the candles, packed away the food, and removed my dress, exchanging it for soft pajamas.

My makeup was smeared with tears by the time I climbed into bed.

I grabbed my phone one last time, and my heart shattered when I saw the Instagram story.

It was one of Lando’s friends, showing a clip of him laughing, drink in hand, surrounded by his friends.

He looked happy. Carefree.

And completely oblivious that tonight was our anniversary.

The tears came faster, hot and uncontrollable. I buried my face in the pillow, the ache in my chest overwhelming.

I had been so sure he’d come back, that he’d remember. But I was wrong.

Later that night,

The apartment was cloaked in silence when Lando opened the front door, the click of the lock echoing faintly in the stillness.

He stumbled inside the weight of exhaustion and faint traces of guilt tugging at his chest.

The soft glow of the streetlights outside illuminated the darkened space just enough for him to make out his surroundings.

Something felt… off.

He reached for the light switch, and as the room was bathed in warm light, his eyes landed on the dining table across from him.

He froze.

The table was beautifully decorated, candles placed strategically, now melted into small stubs, surrounded by rose petals that had been artfully scattered.

Plates of food were neatly covered with lids to keep them from going bad, but even from a distance, Lando could tell they were his favorites.

He took a tentative step forward, his stomach sinking further with each movement.

Resting near the center of the table was a small, wrapped box with a note attached to it.

The sight made his chest tighten, a creeping realization clawing at the edges of his mind.

His fingers trembled as he picked up the note. Unfolding it carefully, he read the words in her familiar handwriting:

"To my Lando, the best thing that ever happened to me. Thank you for being my partner, my love, my everything. Happy anniversary, baby. Love, Y/N."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart sank as the full weight of the evening’s significance crashed over him.

Anniversary. He’d forgotten their second anniversary.

Lando stood there, the note still clutched in his hand, his throat tightening as shame washed over him.

He thought back to the past few weeks, to the times he’d brushed you off or come home late without so much as an explanation.

He couldn’t even recall the last time you two spent real, quality time together.

You had tried to talk to him about it, about how you felt neglected, and he had dismissed your concerns every single time.

Now, standing there amidst the evidence of your effort and love, he felt like the worst boyfriend in the world.

Lando exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair as regret threatened to overwhelm him.

He couldn’t blame anyone but himself.

He glanced around the room, noticing how quiet it was. He knew you were asleep.

His eyes landed on his phone, dead from the night’s events.

With a heavy sigh, he plugged it into the charger, pacing nervously as he waited for it to turn back on.

When it finally lit up, the screen was flooded with notifications, missed calls and unread messages from Y/N.

The time stamps told the story of your evening:

“Hey, are you on your way?” - 8 p.m. “I’m waiting for you… everything’s ready.” -8:30 p.m. “Lando, please call me.” -9 p.m. “Are you okay? I’m starting to worry.” -10 p.m.

The last message was hours old, her tone shifting from hopeful to concerned.

Each notification felt like another jab to his heart, the guilt almost unbearable.

He dropped his phone onto the counter and made his way toward their shared bedroom.

Pushing the door open quietly, he stepped into the dimly lit room.

His gaze immediately found her curled up under the covers, her face half-buried in the pillow.

His breath hitched when he noticed the faint streaks on her cheeks, traces of tears she hadn’t been able to hide.

The sight made his heart clench painfully. She’d cried herself to sleep, and it was his fault.

Lando approached the bed slowly, kneeling beside her as he took in her tear-streaked face.

She looked so peaceful yet so vulnerable, her chest rising and falling softly with each breath.

Guilt swirled in his chest as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, thick with regret.

Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, lingering for a moment as if hoping it could somehow convey all the apologies he couldn’t say while she was awake.

His thumb grazed her cheek, and he sighed deeply.

“You didn’t deserve this,” he murmured, his voice breaking.

“I’ve been such an ass… the worst boyfriend. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I love you so much.”

She stirred slightly at his touch but didn’t wake.

Lando watched her for a moment longer before standing, his mind racing with plans to fix what he’d broken.

Tomorrow, he vowed, would be all about her.

The next morning, I woke up with a dull ache in my chest, my body heavy from the night before.

My eyes were sore and puffy from crying myself to sleep.

I glanced at the empty side of the bed, already prepared for the familiar sting of disappointment.

Figured he’d leave again before I woke up, I thought bitterly.

Dragging myself out of bed, I moved to the bathroom to freshen up.

The cold water on my face didn’t do much to wash away the exhaustion or the emotional weight from the previous night.

With a sigh, I tied my hair back and made my way downstairs, expecting another day of hurt to unfold.

Halfway down the stairs, though, something unusual stopped me in my tracks.

The smell of coffee, rich and inviting, wafted through the air.

There was another scent too, pancakes? My brow furrowed in confusion.

"That can’t be right. Lando doesn’t cook... does he? Who am i kidding he can't even boil eggs."

I cautiously descended the rest of the stairs, each step filling me with equal parts curiosity and hesitation.

As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I froze at the sight before me.

There he was, standing by the stove, flipping a pancake with a focused but slightly clumsy determination.

Plates of food lined the table, croissants, fresh fruit, juice, and what looked like store-bought pastries.

It didn’t take long to figure out most of the spread wasn’t homemade, but the effort was unmistakably his.

“Morning, love,” Lando greeted me, his tone soft and tentative, his lips curling into a nervous smile.

I raised an eyebrow, my arms crossing instinctively. “What’s all this?”

He put the spatula down and stepped closer, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel.

“It’s breakfast... and an apology,” he said, his voice earnest.

My eyes flickered between him and the spread on the table.

I could see he was trying, but the hurt from last night still lingered like a heavy cloud over my chest.

“Come sit,” he said gently, pulling a chair out for me.

I hesitated for a moment before sitting down, my arms still crossed defensively.

Lando grabbed a plate, placing a pancake in front of me before adding a small pile of fruit and a croissant on the side.

I eyed him suspiciously as he poured me a cup of coffee, then sat across from me.

“What are you doing, Lando?” I asked, my voice tinged with a mix of confusion and frustration.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he met my gaze.

“I messed up, Y/N. Big time. And I need you to know how sorry I am.” His voice was steady but filled with regret.

I stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

“Last night,” he began, his brows furrowing,

“I forgot our anniversary. I forgot the one day I should’ve been making you feel like the most important person in the world. And it’s not just last night, I’ve been neglecting you for weeks. You told me how you felt, and I brushed it off like an idiot.”

His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, and I could see the weight of his guilt etched into every line on his face.

“I’ve been selfish, caught up in my own world, and I didn’t see how much I was hurting you. You deserve so much better than that, Y/N. Better than me.”

I felt my throat tighten as his words sank in. The sincerity in his tone chipped away at the walls I’d put up.

“I was so hurt, Lando,” I said, my voice trembling.

“I waited for you all night. I planned everything because I thought… I thought you’d come home and we’d celebrate together. I stayed up, hoping you’d walk through that door with a smile, ready to tell me how much you love me. But you didn’t.”

Tears pricked my eyes as I continued.

“I saw that video of you and your friends. You were laughing and having fun while I sat here, alone, on what was supposed to be our night.”

Lando’s face fell, his hands gripping the edge of the table as if grounding himself from the weight of my words.

“I know,” he whispered.

“And I hate myself for it. Seeing what you did for me last night, the decorations, the food, the note. I realized just how much I’ve been taking you for granted. I never want you to feel that way again, Y/N. You’re the most important thing in my life. I need you to believe that.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, sliding it across the table to me.

“What’s this?” I asked, my voice softer now, though my heart still carried the sting of last night.

“Open it,” he urged.

I carefully lifted the lid, revealing a delicate necklace with a sparkling pendant.

The intricate design caught the morning light, making it shimmer.

“Lando…” I trailed off, overwhelmed.

“It’s not enough to make up for what I’ve done,” he said quickly,

“but it’s a start. And today, it’s all about you. Whatever you want to do, wherever you want to go, we’ll do it.”

I stared at the necklace for a moment before meeting his eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”

“But,” I added, my tone firm, “this doesn’t mean I’ve fully forgiven you yet.”

“I know,” he said, nodding.

“And I don’t expect you to. But I’ll spend every day proving to you how much I care, how much I love you. I won’t stop until you believe me again.”

The determination in his voice made my chest tighten.

I wanted to hold onto my anger, to make him feel the depth of my hurt, but seeing him now, vulnerable, regretful, and desperate to make things right.

I couldn’t help but feel the smallest crack in my resolve.

As the morning unfolded, Lando’s sincerity shone through.

He insisted on clearing the table and cleaning up, stealing small glances at me as if trying to gauge my mood.

I wasn’t ready to let go of all the hurt just yet, but for the first time in weeks, I felt a glimmer of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other.

The morning's heartfelt apology set the tone for what became one of the most memorable days Lando and I had spent together in weeks.

While I was still guarded, I couldn’t deny that he was trying, really trying, to make things right.

As I got ready to leave the house, he was already by my side, holding my hand, his other arm slung casually around my shoulder.

“I promised today would be all about you,” he said, giving me that signature soft smile.

“So, where to first?”

We started with a trip to the mall. At first, I felt a little awkward, hesitant to fully enjoy the experience.

But Lando was like a lovesick puppy, following me from store to store, holding my bags, and insisting I buy anything that caught my eye.

“Do you like this dress?” I asked, holding up a flowy sundress against myself.

“I love it,” he said without hesitation. “But I’d probably love anything on you.”

I rolled my eyes at his smooth comment but couldn’t help the blush creeping up my cheeks. “You’re just saying that.”

“Nope,” he replied, grabbing the dress and adding it to the pile of things he’d insisted on buying.

From clothes to accessories, he didn’t say no to anything.

When I protested, saying he was spending too much, he brushed it off.

“I’d spend everything on you, Y/N,” he said with such sincerity it made my heart ache.

Afterward, he took me to my favorite café for lunch.

The cozy little place was one we often went to in the early days of our relationship, and the nostalgia hit me hard as we sat down.

“I missed this,” I admitted as I sipped my coffee.

“Me too,” Lando said, reaching across the table to hold my hand.

“And I’m going to make sure we never lose this again.”

Next, he surprised me with a visit to a local pottery studio.

I couldn’t help but laugh when Lando struggled to shape a vase, the clay slipping through his fingers.

“Okay, you’re supposed to keep your hands steady,” I teased, leaning over to guide him.

“Oh, so now you’re an expert?” he joked, though his grin softened as I showed him how to shape the clay.

It was messy, chaotic, and perfect.

By the end, we both had clay smudged on our faces, and we were laughing like we hadn’t in weeks.

From there, we stopped at a flower shop.

Lando picked out the biggest bouquet of my favorite flowers, holding it out to me with a boyish grin.

“For you,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re really pulling out all the stops today, aren’t you?” I teased, though my heart swelled as I buried my nose in the fragrant blooms.

“Only the best for my girl,” he replied, his tone playful but his eyes serious.

For the rest of the day, he didn’t leave my side.

He held my hand as we walked through the streets, his arm draped protectively around me whenever we stopped to rest.

He peppered me with kisses at every opportunity; on my cheek, my forehead, my temple.

“You’re being extra clingy today,” I said with a small laugh as he pulled me into another hug.

“Making up for lost time,” he murmured, his chin resting on the top of my head.

Bit by bit, the walls I’d built around my heart began to crumble.

His efforts felt genuine, and I found myself smiling more easily, the hurt from the night before slowly fading into the background.

By the time we got home, the sun was setting, painting the sky in soft shades of pink and orange.

We were both tired but happy as we curled up on the couch together.

Lando tucked me under his arm, his fingers gently tracing patterns on my shoulder.

“Y/N,” he said after a long moment of silence.

His tone was serious, and I looked up at him curiously.

“Yeah?”

“I need to say this again because you deserve to hear it,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

“I’m so sorry for everything, for neglecting you, for forgetting our anniversary, for making you feel like you weren’t my priority. You are my priority, Y/N. You’re the best thing in my life, and I hate that I made you feel otherwise.”

His words hit me straight in the chest, and I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

“I know I hurt you,” he continued, his hand cupping my cheek as he looked into my eyes.

“But I swear, I’ll spend every day proving how much I love you. I’ll never let you feel like that again.”

My heart felt full as I reached up to hold his hand.

“You’ve done a lot for me today, Lando,” I said softly.

“And it’s helped. I can see how much you mean it.”

“So... does that mean you forgive me?” he asked, his tone hopeful but cautious.

I smiled, leaning up to kiss him. “Yeah, I forgive you.”

The relief on his face was almost comical, and he immediately began peppering my face with kisses, my cheeks, my forehead, my nose, even the corners of my lips.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he murmured between kisses, his joy infectious.

Just when I thought the day was over, Lando suddenly sat up.

“Wait, I have one last thing,” he said, standing and disappearing into the other room.

I frowned, confused, as he returned with a small envelope in hand.

“What is this?” I asked as he handed it to me.

“Open it,” he urged, a playful but nervous glint in his eyes.

I carefully tore open the envelope, and my breath caught as I pulled out two plane tickets.

My eyes widened as I read the destination: Maldives.

“Lando… are you serious?” I asked, my voice trembling with disbelief.

He grinned. “You’ve always said you wanted to go. So, I booked us a two-week stay. Just you and me. No distractions.”

Tears welled in my eyes as I looked at him, overwhelmed.

“You didn’t have to do this…”

“Yes, I did,” he said firmly, pulling me into his arms.

“I’ll do anything to make you happy, Y/N. Anything.”

I hugged him tightly, burying my face in his chest.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“I love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“I love you too,” I replied, my voice muffled but sincere.

We settled back into the couch, cuddled up together, the weight of the past few weeks finally lifting.

After a long silence, I broke it with a playful smile.

“If you ever neglect me like that again, I’m breaking up with your ass,” I teased.

Lando laughed, his arms tightening around me. “Fair enough. But don’t worry, I won’t. Not ever again.”

And for the first time in weeks, I believed him.

The end

[demonic0angel]

Can we get Young Justice's perspective in the ghost maze?

Part 1, part 3

"Why did we fall in love with ghost royalty again?" Kon asked.

"Because she's small, cute, and cuddly?" Tim replied dryly.

"Less whining, more butt kicking!" Anita snapped. "Slobo, can you—"

"Don't even mention it! Let's get these monsters and then we kill her bastich of a brother!" He said, before he lifted up by a harpy with a yelp.

"I'm not sure we can kill him," Suzie said with a sigh. She screamed at the kidnapping harpy, making her drop Slobo. Bart raced around and picked him up before he fell, just as he ducked, as Cassie flew overhead and punched another harpy trying to come near.

"Any moment now!" Cassie screamed at Tim, as the hydra started approaching them again, finally finding its way back to them through the maze with its heads poking over the walls.

"I deserve cuddles after this," Kon continued to complain. "Lots and lots of ghost cuddles. And hot chocolate and chocolate chip cookies."

"Great, now I'm hungry, along with bruised, tired, and annoyed," Anita said, before she commanded a stray dinosaur bird thing to go away.

"Got it!" Tim shouted when he finally solved the puzzle and they all ran through the open door. This time, it was a pit full of snakes and the fliers of the group immediately grabbed their non-flying members and rose off of the ground. Kon in particular, sighed as he had to carry Slobo and Bart, who were already squirming.

They carefully flew down to let Tim solve the puzzle and then they quickly escaped, just as the manticore broke down a wall and rushed at them. They slid inside of the other puzzle room, locking the doors behind them. Harpies and other flying monsters still flew around in the sky.

"I hate this," Suzie said. "The Ghost Zone is terrible. Dani's brother is even more terrible."

"Speaking of Dani," Cassie said, looking up, "Look! She's in the stands!"

They all looked up, where they could now see Dani waving at them frantically. She was dressed in royal clothes and looked worried for them.

"Oh thank goodness! She's okay!" Anita said with a sigh of relief. "I thought her brother kidnapped her."

Tim hummed. "I'm pretty sure if that was true, we would've already seen her tearing her way through this maze for us."

Kon cracked his knuckles. "We have to get to her. This entire thing is a test for us, isn't it?"

Cassie nodded. "That's right. Alright, you guys, game faces on. Dani's counting on us and if we want to prove ourselves to her brother, we have to win this with flying colors! Even the Justice League is here, watching us! We have to prove to them all that we're heroes who can fight for the ones we love!"

Bart put his hand out. "For Dani?"

"For Dani!" They all agreed before immediately rushing out to solve the puzzle and take down the monsters and obstacles around them, determined to prove the adults wrong and show Dani that they could definitely be worthy of her!

In the stands, Danny looked at Wonder Woman and sighed. "Couldn't you have taught her to be less inspiring? I want them to lose."

[elssero]

bakugo would be the type of dad who for the life of him cannot say no to his little girl.

k.bakugo

♰ girldad ! bakugo fluff <333

he never imagined himself as a family man, he’d always had the idea that he’d work his ass off for number one and just.. do that forever?

he kept that mindset right up until he met you. pretty little thing with a mouth just as snappy as his and that was all it took for him to be whipped.

to say you swept him of his feet would be an understatement. he physically bumped into you in his agency building and in return you raised your voice at him and told him to watch where the fuck he’s going.

the rest is certainly history, he chases after you and you let him. much to his delight your married a mere 3 years later, laughing at the stupidity of your first meeting.

when discussing children you decide on one for now, bakugo grew up and only child and he quite enjoyed being the center of his parents attention, he only wishes the same for his own.

your pregnant in no time, thanks to his… persistent efforts and he can’t contain the love he has for you as you begin to swell. he completely dotes on you.

your hungry? a three course meal is on its way. your sleepy? he’s carrying you bridal style, laying you down in bed and tucking you in. you deserve only best in his eyes, just as his little girl will.

he doesn’t leave you or the baby’s side for weeks after the birth, your begging him to go back to work at this point because kirishima cannot work another 16 hour shift to cover for him.

he hates every minute he spends away from you, it’s spent grumbling about how he’d much rather be curled up in bed with you. he drops in the charts the first year the child is born but he doesn’t care, he can’t care, not when he’s coming home to you- his beautiful wife and his pride and joy of a baby girl.

as the kid gets older he starts working full time again, you too go back to work a couple days a week while your child’s at school, he insists that you don’t- he takes good enough care of you right?? but you do it anyway, it’s more for something to do rather than for the income.

now spending more time away from his kid- the time he does spend with her he cherishes every minute, they’re baking cookies, he’s taking her shopping, he’s spoiling her rotten :(.

she feels a little sick and wants to stay off school? suddenly they’re both begging you to let her stay off and when you finally agree- he’s calling into work saying he can’t make it so they can spend the day together.

he helps her with quirk training when she insists she wants to be a hero just like daddy. he cries the first time he hears it, unable to control the surge of joy he feels seeing his kids face looking up at him with admiration.

he takes her into the agency to meet all her favorite pro heros- he sets up play dates with his friends kids so his little angel can grow up around kids her age.

as she grows he makes sure that they never lose their closeness- he promises her that she can tell him anything and she does, she truely the light of his life.

it’s the last year of middle school for his girl when he gets the phone call he’s been dreading for years- she got into a fight today in school, a serious one too it seems and he’s rushing as fast as he possibly can, he doesn’t even take the time to phone you because he’s so worried, he makes a mental note to call you the second he’s out of the place.

he bursts through the door and he can’t help the sigh of relief he lets out when he sees that she’s okay, infact she’s not ruffed up at all- which only makes him more worried. had his kid been the one to start the fight? his little angel?

the principal explains the situation pretty clearly, the other kid involved admitted that they had been purposely attempting to get under her skin- using his name to do it.

he’s furious of course- but he can’t help overwhelming happiness that bubbles in his throat when he realises this is your first fight- a fight that you had only started to protect his name.

he thanks the principal for his time and escorts his kid out, she’s silent the entire walk back to the car while he fights back a smirk- “are you mad at me?” she looks up at him from her place in the passenger seat and he just bursts into a smile-

“let’s go get some ice cream kid- just don’t tell your mother about this alright?”

[writingwisterias]

i need a fic where di leon is a grumpy farmer and reader is the golden retriever girl who went to spend time with her grandparents and is invading his farm to steal the strawberries from his garden (obs: she is a little afraid of him) HDJEKDGWJDGWJ😭😭 im hungry to read something like this PLS SAVE ME

Anon you won me over with this! It's like you know me and my love for strawberries! I hope you enjoy!! I got carried away I'm sorry it took so long omg!!

Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, Soft Leon, Age-gap, Cow-girl, Overstimulation, Hinted PTSD, Soft Dom Leon, Switch Leon, Leon deserves every bit of happiness, Unprotected Sex, Missionary, Words: 5k

DI!Leon Kennedy x AFAB!Fem! reader

The wind blew at your dress as you stared at the fence opposite you, the gaps wide enough to use as a way to hoist yourself up. A curious nature was always a dangerous one your mother would whisper but you just couldn’t help being curious, not when the fruit over the fence looked so much riper than yours. You shouldn’t be greedy and just accept the ones that you have grown. No one was home, at least it looked like that. The window that overlooked the garden always had the curtains drawn shut, the swing chair on the back porch had a thin layer of dust from its lack of use. You had shown at the old fence a few days in a row, the strawberries turning a brighter red each time. Surely they wouldn’t care if you stole a few? The white buds that laid around them signalled a new batch coming in. 

If it wasn’t for your grandparents constant mention of the man that resided here you would have assumed it was abandoned. You always thought it must be lonely living in a farmhouse this big, the green of his own garden stretching just as far as your family’s. Your boots notched on the fence perfectly giving you the stability you needed as you began to climb over. The wind whipped away at your hair, the sun gave you an angelic glow. 

At least that’s what Leon thought as he watched you from his bedroom window, his form hidden in the folds of the curtain. His coffee was as bitter as he could make it steaming in his hands. He wouldn’t confront you, he never has not in the many years he's watched you do this. Not when in a few days you would come back down to the fence with your small basket containing a book and some of those mouth–watering cookies and he got to watch someone live freely without the horrors that haunted him. 

Leon never knew what caused him to grow the fruit. Perhaps it was the craving of something sweet in his seemingly bitter life or maybe it was just to see your curious features every summer to see if the plant had made it through the harshness of winter. Leon’s years of service had dwindled, his aging body no longer fit enough for whatever they wanted him to do. Which allowed him to finally nurture the life he thought he deserved, the simple dream he imagined for himself all those years ago. 

The farmhouse was always a part of this dream of his, the expansive land always seemed like the perfect ending and start to family life. Since he moved in, your grandparents helped him get settled quickly. The older couple were innocent in their teaching to help him learn how to repair everything. Leon offered what labour his body would allow nowadays as a thanks to their warmth. It was then that first summer he saw you. 

This sweet ray of sunshine that ran through the blades of glass like you were in the sound of music. Every colour of dress looked good on you, your hair always pulled in styles that frame your face perfectly. Too bad he respected the kindness of his elder neighbours to do anything about it. Your youthful features told him it was wrong, his darkened ones were too dangerous for yours. His touch would surely taint you, corrupt you. So he settled on his observations. 

It didn’t take much brain power for him to figure out that you were afraid of being caught. Not when you held the berries in the skirt of your dress staring at the kitchen window. If only you were smart enough to look up, then you would see him. He didn’t have the heart to stop you from doing this. Not when it kept that gap in the curtains open allowing the single ray of sunshine to spread out on the floor of his bedroom in his otherwise shadow of a home. 

“Not stealing Leon’s strawberries again are you?” Your grandmother spoke from the kitchen doorway. You had finished preparing them for the cookies, licking the syrup that they created as you sprinkle them with sugar. “Do you think he would mind? I never asked but all the curtains were drawn again” You spoke turning to face her. It felt like home here, like you belonged to help them out during summer. Your boots waiting at the door for the next adventure. You had long since swapped the summer dress you wore earlier to the lounge clothes you would normally wear at home. At least ones your elders would approve of. 

“I don’t even think he eats them himself,” she laughed as she stood next to you. “Perhaps he just grows them for you, he lives alone after all” 

The idea of him doing this made you blush, you weren’t sure why. If it were true the action was kind and it almost made you feel guilty for your actions. You turned your face away from her instead, willing yourself to focus on the cookie dough that you were currently rolling out in small balls and placing them on the baking tray. “I’m sure he doesn’t, we’ve never met and as far as I know he doesn’t know I’m the infamous thief” You awkwardly blubbered out. “I guess he must think it’s a pretty big rabbit then since they steal so many at a time” She laughed, her hands held out towards the bowl, washed and ready to help you with the baking process. 

It was moments like this that you enjoyed, the simplicity of it reminding you of the true home you craved. The bed they provided was always soft and warm, the sheets smelling like the fresh air that would filter in throughout the day. It was an escape for you, the life you always dreamed of but were never sure you could sustain on your own. The six weeks were a countdown of your daydream ending. The stark reminder that reality was close to hitting you in the face and you would have to wait three seasons for your return. It was always bittersweet. Moments like these will always be cherished, especially as you chatted about anything and everything you could whilst the cookies baked. Their smell fills the room. 

“I should thank him one day for growing such great strawberries, I wonder how he does it” You laughed as you took a bite from one of them now they were finished. “He’s home more often than you think, love. I think he would like to see who stealing his strawberries, maybe he’ll give you some tips for yours” 

One day you’ll be brave enough to walk up his driveway instead of over the fence with some of your infamous treats. To put a face to the name that was spoken so commonly in this household. The image of him you formed in your mind was good enough but there was always that lingering curiosity to see if it would match. 

You could see the farmhouse from your bedroom whilst you began already mapping out the spot you’ll sit at tomorrow. The sun setting gives the sky a red glow. It was always your favourite time of day watching the foxes weave through the longer grass, the deer making a fleeting appearance as they ran across the fields. It wasn’t like the city you would have to return to, the sky barely visible amongst the smog of the industries. 

The basket you always took was ready at your bedroom door filled with your latest read and the dress you had picked out hanging neatly above it. A weekly routine for you at this point – it has been since the first week you arrived. You enjoyed the sun on your skin, the smell of the fresh grass as you laid across it. Despite enjoying your time here it often felt lonely, you wished for a sibling or someone to enjoy the outside but no they were far too busy now to continue this tradition. They didn’t care for the open space like you did or how good it felt to be off the grid for a few months.

The dew drops darkened the leather on your boots, the blades of grass leaving small thin lines as you waded through it to that one spot you wanted. However, today felt different, like something had shifted in your routine. Not necessarily something bad, just different. You paused allowing the soft breeze to cool your skin, it was only then that you spotted the normally empty swing chair now occupied. You stood frozen watching the wind swipe at the brunette, his features calm…serene. When he finally met your eyes he smiled, a toothy grin that suited his face. You gave your own shy one back before returning to your previous task. 

You faced away from the direction of the wind, pinching the blanket at the corners as you let the wind straighten it out. Moving the basket to pin the fabric down, all practiced movements. Careful and methodical to ensure your skin never touches the damp grass. Your dress was blush pink today, it suited you. It was one of his favourites, the fabric laying delicately over your skin with small frills at the hemline. You looked like a princess, something that he shouldn’t disturb. He shocked himself today when he sat on the swing, the hinges creaking with his weight. 

Leon bought the swing with the intention of watching his family run around as he sat on it, drinking the bitter coffee he subjected himself to with his partner in his arms. It was what he wanted but it never happened and perhaps it never will. Maybe he was always made to be the fun uncle to his friends' children. His large house entertaining them – that was if he ever invited them over. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to approach the fence today, to finally introduce himself to you. Compared to you he seemed undressed, like some peasant trying to introduce themselves to a princess. 

You didn’t pay attention to the sound of the fence moving, or the shadow that formed over your book as he stood above you. Perhaps you had chosen to sit too close to the fence today. “So you are my strawberry thief I take it?” He chuckled, his voice horse from not talking to anyone in days. He smiled softly when you blushed and looked up before giving a shy nod. Leon watched as you moved to sit on your knees, giving him your full attention. Your eyes drifting upwards slowly until finally meeting his face. His eyes were tired but held the most beautiful colour of blue, his lashes were long and thick as he blinked. The stubble coating his cheeks suited him. “I am” You finally replied. 

Leon’s head dropped slightly as he chuckled at the timidness of your voice, his posture was relaxed as he leant up against the fence; coffee mug still held tightly in his hands. “Do I not get a sample of what my produce gets turned into?”

It was weird to you, with the way your grandparents describe Leon you always assumed he was a lot older than he came across. His form was strong, you see that he had put in effort to get it like that. His job was never mentioned, your grandparents cared little of how he obtained the money to even own the house. Everyone was subjected to their secrets you supposed yet you still craved to learn his. You looked at the scars along his hands as you passed him a cookie; each one holding stories you now felt eager to learn. 

The fence is now a barrier between the two of you, the sun shining down on his hair allowing  the few blond strands he had left glow like natural highlights. The tiredness was evident now you were closer also spying the crows feet that formed as he smiled at you. You found yourself waiting eagerly for his thoughts, maybe if he thought that they tasted good then he wouldn’t get mad at your trespassing for the sweet fruit. Somewhere inside of you now craved for his approval or praise on the taste. 

The low groan he let out once he had taken a bite shouldn’t have affected you the way that it did. Your thighs pressing together slightly to ease some of the tension. “These are so good, your grandparents are right. You are a good baker” He complimented, scoffing the whole thing as if you might take it away from him before he got the chance to finish. You beamed at him, eyes twinkling at the compliment and approval. The sight caused him to pause, to scan over the softer features you held. It was only then he realised how beautiful you actually were. 

How was he allowed to be in the presence of such beauty? He barely deserved this house, let alone to be standing here in front of you. Part of him wished to invite you over the fence, to greet you in the house. Host a dinner with you. Leon knew the state of the house wasn’t acceptable to you, shame filling him with the idea of you even seeing it. Instead he thanked you once more before bidding you a good day and heading inside. Leaving you to your peaceful afternoon. 

However, this time he left the back door open allowing the summer breeze to blow inside along with the sun. 

It wasn’t until a few days later that you saw him again, only this time he was in the living room of your grandparents house. His posture was relaxed as he spoke to them, leaning back slightly in the chair one leg leant over the other. “Oh honey! You’re awake, Leon has left something in the kitchen for you” Your grandmother smiled, a wink following shortly as she turned to look at you. With a nod of your head you turned to walk to the kitchen where a tupperware container of strawberries laid. A post-it note on the top with your name neatly written. 

“Figured you could make a batch of cookies with these ones? I picked them today” Leon said from the doorway. 

You turned to face him, smiling brightly once again. He was leant against the doorframe, his eyes scanning your form. “I’d be happy to, they are the fruits of your labour after all” You replied. Leon chuckled softly, nodding slightly. “I suppose they are” 

“I’d be happy to do it for you though, I can bring them round tomorrow afternoon?” 

It was now his turn to smile brightly before nodding. With that he left you to resume your task, returning to his spot in the chair as your grandparents spoke to him about their plans for harvest season. 

You took greater care in the making of his, each strawberry cut perfectly. The sugar left to marinate slightly longer. It was cute the way you sat in front of the oven, observing them through the slightly browning window. They had to be perfect, Leon didn’t deserve anything less than that. Besides you felt like you owed him this at least. 

You knew the nerves were high today as it took you longer to pick out the dress. Each one felt unworthy to be worn in front of him. A pile of dresses were now left to crease in front of the wardrobe as you worked your way through them until you found the one. The milkmaid dress was a rare one for you, not yet worn this summer despite the way it clung to your curves as you tightened the back. The front extenuating your breasts perfectly whilst keeping some modesty. You allowed your hair to fall naturally today, small wisps of it framing your face after all it wasn’t too windy. You weren’t sure what compelled you to look good today, the outfit was nothing unusual. The worn brown boots still found their way on your feet, the heels clicking slightly on the drive as you began your journey to his front door. Your basket clutched tightly in your hand as if it was some precious cargo.  

Leon waited at the kitchen window, waiting to spy you sauntering down the hill again. It made him jump when you knocked on the door, it wasn't your fault you did it slightly too loud for him. The bangs echoing around the empty house. His brain short circuited for a moment as he tried to calm his heart rate down. Breathing in and out with one hand clutched to his chest the other gripping the counter. When he eventually did open the door he spied you rocking on the balls of your feet. The dress swaying with your movements. You gave him another one of your infamous bright smiles; your hands holding out the basket of goodies to him. “Special delivery?” You joked. 

Fuck, you were so cute. Your cheeks darkened in colour as he stepped aside to allow you to enter. For the first time in months the curtains were all open. The sunlight bouncing around the space eliminates the darkness in every corner. His shelves were filled with trinkets and medals, his couch a rustic brown leather one with seats so plush you knew you could curl up in them. It was basic, something you assumed a man of his age to decorate like.

The kitchen is filled with the basics, enough for someone living on their own to get by. He set the basket on the kitchen island, a mug of tea already brewed waiting for you. The mug was cute, decorated with small flowers. It was clearly a gift from someone, his cup didn’t match. Instead adorned the words ‘NO.1 Uncle’. “I’m excited” He chuckled, unwrapping the basket to get out the tupperware container. A pink post-it note on the top with his name in cursive writing. “Nice touch”

You watched as he took a bite of one, the crumbs catching in the stubble and in his cupped hand he moved in a poor attempt to catch them. He let out that same low groan as the other day, his eyes shutting slightly as if the action made him savour the taste further. It looked like you had touched the front of his jeans, your cheeks heated up with the imagery. Instead, willing your mind to focus on the warmth of the mug you cradled. “Somehow they are even better than I remembered” He chuckled, already reaching for another. 

Your cheeks flushed at the compliment smiling against the rim of the mug as you brought it to your lips. “Seriously, did you do anything different?” He asked, prompting you to finally speak. Hoping that you would eventually relax into the chair, perhaps next summer you would grace him with your presence more. He was in dire need of company after all and somehow he felt like you needed the same thing. 

“I only added some more sugar, perhaps you just need a sweeter pallet” You teased, before taking a bite of your own cookie. Sugar dusted your lips, the juice of the berries giving them a slight shine like a natural gloss. You watched as his tongue swiped over his lower lip, his eyes boring into yours. He was watching for something you weren’t quite sure of. You watched as his hands flexed around his mug, relaxing and then contracting again. His eyes suddenly dazed over before they met you once more. “Are you okay?” 

It had been years since someone had asked him that, it had been years since he isolated himself to these simpler days. He was sure most of his friends would have thought he must have died, his phone left uncharged and on the coffee table. The only thing he didn’t dust for your arrival. He craved your touch, to taste the sugar that still lingered on your lips. It was wrong of him to have these desires but it felt right in his soul. It felt like a reward was finally being granted to him in the form of your soft fingers over his scarred hands. 

Leon didn’t deserve you. Not your attention, not these cookies, the kindness you offered as you directed his head back to you. It was then you saw the man your grandparents cared for, the lonely broken one that slipped through small cracks. That only wanted to help and protect people. To be useful to someone in a way that didn’t involve violence or blood. That was why he grew the strawberries every year, to see you smile as they greeted you in a bright red. He knew it made you happy. 

Maybe that was why you leaned forwards. Your hand cupping his cheek, the stubble that coated it pricking into your skin as you kissed him. You felt the tension fade when your lips met, the sugar and crumbs that coated your lips adding to the texture. His tongue swiping, prodding for access to taste you further. His hands found your arms, tugging you closer without yanking you out of the chair. Your hair tickled the corners of his face as his fingers weaved through the strands. You tasted like his dream, like his future he wanted. You were sweet, so sweet. Brightening his pallet from the bitterness he subjected himself to. 

Your foreheads met when you pulled away, the sun shining brightly causing you both to close your eyes. “We don’t have to– I’m sorry…” He mumbled before you cut him off with a peck. His eyes meeting yours again, this time vulnerability laced them. Longing for a connection. “I want to” 

“You can’t…not me. You don’t deserve my mess” 

His words didn’t make sense to you, perhaps you should have waited longer before you got off the stool giving you both a chance to get to know each other better. You didn’t though, instead you found yourself now standing between his legs to look at him, the pain that lingered in his soul now visible to you. “I make a mess when I bake and get something delicious out of it.” 

It took him a moment to process what you meant, his eyes scanning you again before finally nodding. His frame towered yours as he dragged you further into the house. The stairs creaking under your weight. The tour was brief, informal as he dragged you to his room. Part of him wanted to guide you to the guest room instead, the sheets in there weren’t tainted with the sweat of his nightmares. It was like you knew which one his room was, the curtains still drawn except for that small gap. 

He was gentle when he brought you to the edge of the bed, his lips trapping yours into a needy kiss. You felt his hands run up your sides until they reached your shoulders where he began to pull away at the straps of your dress. He broke the kiss to savour the taste there, sucking softly at the nape of your neck. Inhaling your fresh scent, the sweet vanilla suited you. Your own hands teased the hem of his shirt, silently waiting for his approval to remove it. Part of him wanted to shake his head, to keep the red lines that decorated his skin away from your innocent eyes but for this work. To get what he needed, you had to see. 

“They’re ugly I know” 

You hadn’t expected him to be insecure, to hate the stories you were fascinated to learn since you saw them upon his hands. His breath faltered as you shook your head before leaning in to kiss each one, it didn’t matter if they were faded. “Not to me” 

Not to you? 

He found comfort in that as he cupped your face, directing your attention back to him. His blue eyes boring into yours. “You are so sweet, it’s cute how fitting it is” 

Leon began to unlace the dress, watching as the fabric loosened around your body until it fell on the floor at your feet, leaving you in just your underwear. Your fingers worked on the belt, the clash of the metal on the floor made him flinch slightly. He didn’t have time to calm his brain, to count down in his head like before; not when your fingers moved along the outline of his growing bulge. Feeling his cock thicken beneath his boxers. You smiled at the low groan he let out again, “I love that sound” 

He pushed you against the bed, watching as you laid back. Your legs spread eagerly for him showing off the darkened colour of your underwear. “So wet already? I bet the taste is better than any of your cookies and sweeter than any fruit I could grow for you” Leon spoke as he crawled up the bed. His arms rested either side of your head as he hovered above you, hiding you in his shadow. You smiled at him, shaking your head slightly before pushing him to lay on his back. He needed to relax, to get the attention he’s carved for so many years. A chance to escape the shadow he claimed to bring. 

As the afternoon changed to evening the breeze picked up, blowing the drawn fabric of his curtain open. The sun flickering over your body as you straddled him. “You deserve to be happy Leon, everyone does” You whispered in the shell of his ear. Your teeth grazed his lobe before kissing against his pulse point, moving the pressure down until you reached his collarbone. You watched as your marks blossomed along his skin. Each line of raised scar being covered by you and your claim. “You deserve this after your years of service – you earned those medals on your shelf” 

Each praise caused him to groan softly, his hips lifting to meet yours. You looked between the two of you, smiling at the darkened spot on his underwear. “Please” 

His beg was simple, one word but his voice cracked holding emotions you weren’t sure you could comprehend yet. You would grant him this moment of escape, of pleasure he was worthy of taking. You moaned at the sight of his cock as you finally freed him. The tip glistened with the steady stream of pre-cum he was producing. You smirked at his whimper as you ran your finger over his head gathering it before bringing your finger to your lips. Sucking softly on the taste of him. Leon’s cock jumped at the sight, the needy cock begging for your attention once more. You removed your underwear, the fabric discarded in the pile of clothes at the bottom of the bed. Leon had done the same, his thighs clenching underneath as he prepared for your warmth to encase him. 

For the connection he’s craved for so long. 

He moaned as you sunk onto his length, your walls already fluttering beautifully around him. His hands landed on your hips gripping at the flesh softly only tightening when you began to move. You felt like heaven, the sun giving you that same angelic glow he watched from his window. Your breasts bounced with your movements, your nipples hardening begging for his lips or fingers. Who was he to deny them? 

You cupped the back of his head as he captured one of them, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud as his fingers tweaked the other one. You felt each exhale he made, the air escaping over the soft mound. His name sounded like music as it left your lips in breathy moans. You deserved to be worshiped like this, like the goddess the sun painted you out to be. His house was bright again, the corners rid of any lingering cobwebs. The porch swing was used again, his skin actually felt the warmth of summer in his own leisure and not yard work. 

He felt you clench, your rhythm faltering as your core tightened with need. Your clit throbbed against his happy trail. Your thighs tighten around his hips. He smiled as you threw your head back, your nails digging crescent marks in his shoulders, scraping new lines over the old ones. “Come on sweetie, cum for me please” he begged, helping you move at the speed you needed. You felt his cock twitch inside, stroking that spongy spot. 

He begged for your release once more before it flooded through you. Your head falling to his shoulder as your chest heaved. Leon moved you both, pinning you against the sheets with his own set of needy thrusts. The pleasure tightened his balls as his release grew closer.  “So perfect” He whispered against your skin, claiming you with his set of marks. Nipping at the soft skin of your breasts. You whimpered at the overstimulation, the sound falling effortlessly off your lips as he brought you to another orgasm. He groaned deeply as you milked him, sucked him closer inside. Your legs trapped him, holding him in place as you pressed into the swell of his ass. 

Your eyes twinkled brightly as you met him again, nothing but acceptance and pleasure lingering in them. A silent devotion to love him. He groaned once more before he spilled himself inside of you. His chest heaving breaths that met your own. Neither of you moved, trapped in this moment as his warmth spread inside you. His world was smaller, reduced to that smile you gave him. Nothing else mattered, nothing else would matter, not when he had this. Something to hold, to worship, to service. A purpose again. 

The kiss was gentle as he pressed his lips against yours, the swing creaked with your combined weight as you laid in his arms. You smiled against his lips relishing in the sweet taste that lingered on them after you had both settled eating fresh strawberries. With the red streaks in the sky now finally being able to watch your favourite time of day in the warmth of his embrace instead of the coldness of your room alone. 

[lovesickletters]

A little idea that’s been playing on my mind recently is yandere SACRAU… (for those uninitiated, an AU where the characters are self aware that they are in a game, and also simultaneously aware of the player, who they sometimes see as a godlike entity, invisibly guiding them).

Shadow Milk Cookie taking centre stage during his update, trying to keep all your attention on him, him, him as he throws himself at the oven doors, whining about when it will be his turn. His relentless tirade against the only entrance into your kingdom did little other than chip away at his soulstone, shards that either flew out through the grate or he slipped under the door as peace offerings. Surely if he got enough through, he would be able to reassemble on the other side?

Mystic Flour Cookie and Burning Spice trying their hardest to resist incinerating him on the spot after their own lackluster time in the spotlight. It’s not fair, why did that self-centred clown get to hog the stage (and your attention), when their own time had felt like a fleeting dream? Why did he, out of any of the cookies there, deserve to be gifted more of an opportunity than they?

And then Shadow Milk’s fervour quickly turning to rage as the gears begin to click into place, the resources you had saved for Pure Vanilla Cookie’s awakening striking true, as that irritating, blonde fool extends a hand to push open the oven doors with little resistance, only slamming shut when Shadow Milk tries his luck. There’s a smug sense of self-satisfaction that Mystic Flour and Burning Spice can’t help but feel at his simmering frustration. Better luck next time?

[a-cross-the-universe]

Paging Dr. John Carter, MD: Mildly Jealous

John Carter x f! reader

***

It was supposed to be a peaceful lunch. After back-to-back shifts at County, the smell of espresso and the soft jazz playing from the corner speaker were almost enough to make you forget the ER even existed.

Almost.

John Carter leaned forward, scanning the menu with lazy interest. “Should we split a sandwich, or are we doing the ‘order too much and regret it’ thing again?”

Before you could answer, the curly-haired waiter returned, notepad in hand and an annoyingly persistent grin stretched across his face. “Ready to order, gorgeous?”

You blinked. “Um…”

“Right,” Carter cut in, keeping his tone light. “We’ll have the club sandwich with extra pickles, and she’ll have the tomato bisque. That sound good, babe?”

You nodded, caught between amusement and awkwardness. “Perfect.”

The waiter’s eyes lingered. “You sure I can’t interest you in something a little sweeter? On the house.”

Carter gave a tight smile. “She’s got plenty of sweet already, thanks.”

“Oh?” the waiter said, either oblivious or pretending to be. “Well, let me know if you change your mind.”

When he finally walked off, Carter leaned back in his seat with a disbelieving scoff.

“Persistent,” you said, sipping your water.

“He’s either got nerves of steel, or no survival instinct.” Carter shook his head, eyes narrowed playfully. “Honestly, it’s impressive. Like watching someone juggle knives and not realize they’re on fire.”

You smothered a laugh behind your hand. “You’re not… mad?”

“Jealous? Sure,” he said casually. “But mad? No. I’m just waiting to see how long it takes him to crash and burn.”

The next twenty minutes were more of the same—more compliments, more glances that lingered way too long, more Carter trying to stay cool while clearly simmering under the surface. At one point, the waiter brought you an extra cookie “just because you deserve a treat,” and Carter just smiled.

That should’ve been your first warning.

Because the moment the waiter walked away again, Carter slid his chair closer to yours, leaned in, and said with a calm that was far too quiet, “Alright. That’s enough.”

You barely had time to blink before Carter’s hand was cupping the side of your face and he kissed you—firm, deep, and without the usual teasing he gave when you were in public. This was possessive. Deliberate. His fingers slid into your hair, and you could feel him smiling against your mouth when you melted into it, momentarily forgetting anyone else even existed.

When he pulled back, your lips tingled and your head spun. “Okay,” you breathed, blinking up at him. “That was…”

“Effective,” Carter finished, clearly pleased with himself.

You glanced around. The waiter had definitely seen. He stood frozen a few tables away, face slightly pale as he adjusted his apron and made a hasty retreat behind the counter.

“You really just—” you started, wide-eyed.

Carter shrugged, sipping his coffee with the calm satisfaction of a man who had won. “I tried the polite route. But apparently, some people need subtitles.”

You laughed, cheeks warm. “You jealous dork.”

He leaned in again, voice low and smug. “I’d say ‘jealous,’ but let’s be honest—I just really like kissing you.”

“Mm,” you smirked. “Well… maybe I’ll let a few more guys flirt with me if it means more kisses like that.”

“Try it,” he said, already moving in for another. “See what happens.”

The afternoon sun peeked through scattered clouds, casting a warm glow over the quiet landscape as you and Carter strolled down the street, hand-in-hand. The air smelled like roasted coffee beans and fresh pavement, but all you could think about was that kiss.

“You know,” you said, glancing at him sideways, “I can’t tell if I should be flattered or concerned by how fast you went full ‘this-is-my-woman’ in there.”

Carter gave you a smug look. “Flattered. Definitely flattered.”

You smirked, swinging your hand in his. “Mmm… I don’t know. That guy was pretty cute.”

Carter slowed, eyeing you. “Don’t.”

You bit your lip, fighting a grin. “What? I’m just saying, if you hadn’t been there, I might’ve—”

He stopped walking. “You wouldn’t have.”

You leaned in, all mock-seriousness. “Maybe I liked the attention.”

“Oh, you liked it?” Carter asked, eyes narrowing with a smirk. “Is that why your cheeks turned pink every time he called you gorgeous?”

“That was the lighting,” you deadpanned.

“Sure,” he muttered, pulling you close by the waist.

You tilted your head at him, playing innocent. “So… if another guy flirts with me tomorrow, are you gonna make out with me in the middle of the grocery store?”

“Don’t test me.”

“Or what?”

Carter leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. “Or I’ll make it so obvious you’re mine, that guy will be too afraid to even bag your groceries.”

You laughed, heart flipping. “John Carter, you cannot just go around intimidating men with your Doctor hotness.”

He stepped back, looking pleased. “That wasn’t hotness. That was strategy.”

“Mm. A very jealous strategy.”

He raised his brow. “You seemed pretty into the kiss.”

You shrugged, feigning indifference. “I mean… it was alright.”

Carter blinked at you. “Alright?”

“Seven out of ten,” you teased, trying not to laugh.

“Oh, really?” he said, pulling you back toward him with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Guess I’ll have to do better next time.”

You let him wrap his arms around you, already anticipating that “next time” with a grin. “I’ll be sure to find someone even bolder.”

“Don’t you dare,” he murmured, and then kissed you again—right in the middle of the sidewalk.

***

WHAT A TIME TO BE ALIVE!!! I watched ER like 3 YEARS AGO and was DESPERATE for John Carter fanfic — LITERALLY FOUND CRUMBS. CRUMBS!!! And now??? With The Pitt and Noah Wyle being all over the place??? WE'RE EATING (finally!!!) I REPEAT, WE ARE EATING!!!

I’m SO OBSESSED with him it’s actually embarrassing but also I have no shame BYE.

#JohnCarterSupremacy

💖