#or are you just going off of ‘feels’ from OTHER BAD TAKES???

[onlypinkslut]

dad toji x f!reader🎀 18+

you clingy sits on his lap after work, babbling about your sticky panties while he gropes you and lets you grind on his cock.

he comes home heavy. it's always the same. the way the door slams with too much force, the way his boots sound against the floor like he's dragging every part of the day in with him. you can hear the weight in his body before he even says a word. keys hit the counter. a long breath leaves his chest like it's been waiting for hours. he doesn't need to ask where you are. you're already watching from the edge of the hallway, bare legs cold, skirt soft against your thighs, waiting for that one signal-the stretch of leather, the pop of a button, the creak of the couch under his thighs as he sinks into it with a tired groan.

when you crawl into his lap, it isn't quick or shy. it's slow. practiced. like muscle memory. his cock is already half-hard under his jeans, heavy and waiting, and your panties are sticky from nothing but thinking.

you settle on him, skirt riding up instantly, and he doesn't say anything. just exhales deeper, like this was what he needed all along. his arms wrap around you like instinct, one hand sliding up your side, the other resting just under your ass, holding you like a father holds something small and precious and his.

you start talking. you always do. it pours out of you, soft and quick, barely thinking.

dad.. i missed you and today i sat down and it squished so bad, dad. it was so warm and sticky and i thought it was blood but it wasn't, it was just... me. like, really me. and i got scared it'd get on my skirt but i didn't wanna change because it's the one you like with the little ruffle and i kept thinking about this, about now, about sitting like this..

he presses you down a little harder. his palm spreads wide against your ass, kneading slow dragging your body closer into his belly. the pressure makes your thighs tense. your voice cracks

and you keep going.

and aliyah asked if i was okay 'cause i kept crossing my legs and i lied and said my thighs were sore from working out but they weren't. it was just... it kept dripping a little and my panties are gross now and i didn't wanna take them off without you here to see first. i don't know why. i just didn't want to.

he doesn't speak. not yet. his hands never stop. one slips beneath your shirt. the pads of his fingers

stroke up your ribs like they're tracing growth. he cups your breasts in both hands, lifting the weight of them like he's testing if they changed since this morning. his thumbs drag over your nipples until they harden under his touch. and still, your voice keeps moving.

and i don't even know what's wrong with me 'cause i was just eating yogurt and i swear i got wet when the spoon hit the bottom. i wasn't even thinking about anything bad, it was just sweet and cold and thick and it made my tongue feel weird and i thought about your fingers and how you rub me sometimes, like slow, and then i started rocking in my seat a little and aliyah noticed..

and his mouth finds your shoulder. he kisses it once. soft. open. warm.

you gasp and freeze.

his hand leaves your tits and slides under your chin, thumb brushing over your lips. you're still talking, breathless, near tears now from the buildup, from the way your body aches against his without even being fucked. he cups your cheek and tilts your face toward his.

his fingers trace your bottom lip. you open without thinking. he pushes them in.

two fingers, thick and warm, inside your mouth slow. you suck automatically, eyes fluttering shut, lips wrapping around him like they belong there. he groans low in his chest and keeps them in place.

his other hand still grips your ass, guiding the tiniest roll of your hips against him.

that's it, he murmurs, almost to himself. sweet little thing. always talking. always dripping.

you hum softly. he watches you suck. your eyes are glassy now, mouth full, hips barely rocking over his cock, still trapped behind denim. your whole body trembling from the pressure of being untouched and overwhelmed.

he pulls his fingers out slowly, trails the spit down your chin, then presses them back against your lips.

he hums like it's nothing. like this is what dads do when they get home from work and their daughters won't shut up about dessert and shopping and how your thighs got sweaty walking past the construction site.

his hand is steady while he rubs your pussy with two fingers, watching your mouth move. he cups you like he's holding something fragile and filthy, spreading your lips slow so your slick starts to drip down over his palm, and he smiles when you keep talking right through it.

you say the stickiness felt embarrassing, and you had to sit with your legs tight together so no one would notice the wet mark on your skirt. you say aliyah asked if you were okay and you lied, said it was just sweat, but you knew it wasn't. you knew it was because you were thinking of this-right now-of being here, of the way your panties always end up soaked whenever you sit on dad's lap.

he groans low in his chest, and his cock twitches under you. you feel it. thick and hot, no longer restrained by denim. at some point, he's pulled it out-fat, flushed, heavy against your inner thigh. you gasp when it presses against your slick cunt, and he just holds you closer, dragging your body down slow until your folds wrap around him, until he's nestled right between your legs and your clit throbs

from the pressure.

you whimper softly, and he kisses your jaw. one hand stays on your tits, groping them slow and warm, thumbs circling your nipples until they're hard and sensitive and aching under his touch. the other hand cups the back of your head. he kisses your lips once, twice, then again, deeper-wet and slow like he's tasting the way you breathe.

his voice is quiet when he speaks, gravelly.

you're such a sweet girl, he murmurs, just needin a little attention. panties soaked and your pussy sticky and all you needed was dad's cock under you to feel better.

you nod, dazed, lips swollen from the kisses. your hips move without you meaning to. you grind against him, and the head of his cock catches right at your entrance.

his hands grip your thighs. his eyes close for a second. and then he lifts you slightly, lines himself up, and sinks you down onto him in one slow, aching motion.

your body folds forward, your mouth falls open, and your words finally stop.

you stay seated on him even after he's fully inside, your chest pressed to his, arms around his shoulders, face buried under his jaw. you don't speak at first, can't. the stretch is too deep. it fills everything. thick and warm and heavy inside you. his cock isn't just in-it's nestled, seated, sunk into a place that feels like it was made for him. you tremble through the first minute of stillness, his handsbrubbing circles into your back like it's nothing. like it's just another evening at home.

and then, slowly, your voice returns.

you mumble into his neck, your words sticky and half-spilled, breathless but still yours.

i thought about this all day. it was... it was hot, and i kept thinking about your lap and i didn't even mean to. i wasn't trying to be nasty, it just... it felt wet, and i thought maybe it was 'cause of yesterday and my panties wouldn't dry and i didn't bring spares so i just kept wearing them and they got all stuck in between and i couldn't fix it, not without you..

he groans low. shifts his hips slightly. your mouth falls open again. your voice catches.

his hands grip your waist and begin to move you-just barely. just enough to roll your hips in slow circles, not pulling out, not thrusting, just grinding your cunt over the base of his cock like he wants to feel every tiny muscle of your pussy hug him tighter. your body shudders, folds soft, wet and open around him.

i almost cried when i sat in the car because it rubbed the wrong way, and i just kept thinking about last time when you were under me and you made me sit still so you could feel the way it dripped. i didn't wanna move. i thought if i stayed still maybe it wouldn't feel so... so much. but it did. it felt worse. in a good way.

he kisses your jaw, your neck, your lips. he cups your tits again, kneading them slow like they're tired too, like your body needs to be held everywhere. he tells you you're a good girl, that your little body is working so hard for him, that no one else could ever take care of you like this.

and you believe him.

he starts to thrust then. slow, deep, dragging every inch out until your walls tighten around

nothing-then sliding back in with the kind of force that makes your whole body rock in his lap. your head falls forward. your thighs shake.

but you're still talking.

you say your body feels heavy and hot, like the wetness won't stop. you tell him you keep getting scared you'll leak through the skirt, and he tells you it's okay, let it happen, that's what he's here for.

you say you don't want anyone else to see. he says they won't. you say it's embarrassing, and he says it's beautiful.

you always make it better, dad. i always feel good after. even when it leaks all night.

and he kisses you again, groaning into your mouth, holding you tighter.

his thrusts slow, his fat cock pulsing inside you. and your words fade again not because you don't have more to say.

but because you're about to come.

right there in his lap.

where you belong.

thank u for reading 💗🎀

onlypinkslut

[atisecnom]

😼 eating hcs ♡

Characters: The Hanks, f!reader

Warning: overstimulation, pussy eating (obvi), praise, squirting, tongue penetration, other stuff I forgot

Summary: Title pretttyyyyyy self explanatory.

A/N: be patient if u request anything pls I'm a one man show I can only write sm 💔

Ok, out of all the Hanks, Hank 4 is the biggest munch out of all of them fssssss

Hank 3 is a close second tho.

Back to Hank 4, yk those videos of kittens eating their milk sludge mixtures and when the owner pulls them away, the kitten is like covered in sludge and struggles to go back to the sludge? Hank 4 is the kitten and the sludge mixture is your pussy. (I rlly rlly hope u get what I'm saying 😭)

He can eat you out for like hourrrrsssss if you let him.

Even when you try to pull him away, he does NOT get off of you.

You could be boreline pulling out his hair from how much you're trying to pull him away, but it takes another Hank or two to pull him away from your pussy. (Have you peeped those muscles?) And even after he gets pulled away, he's all slumping and sad cuz he didn't wanna stop.

The other Hanks have to put on a timer when he has a turn with you.

When he eats you out, his tongue is all over your pussy. He sometimes slips his tongue inside you.

He shakes his head from side to side when his lips wrap around your clit.

AND he hums sm. It sends vibrations to your clit and it feels soooooo good.

Overstimulates you to. The. Max.

His pace won't change before, after, or during your orgasms

His hands stay on your legs, forcing them apart while his lips and tongue do all the work.

He's made you squirt multiple times.

Also made you cry a couple times from overstimulation. When he realized you're crying THEN he pulls away. If you tell him to continue tho he gladly will do so.

...

Now, Hank 3.

While Hank 4 uses his mouth to give pleasure to every single inch of your pussy, Hank 3 focuses on your clit.

He doesn't keep his hands on your legs to keep them open, he has one holding you in place on your waist and another usually inside you.

Hank 3 loooves the feeling of being crushed by your thighs when he hits that sweet spot.

He always has his lips and tongue abusing your clit while his finger (or fingerS) pump inside you, his other hand roaming all over your body.

Just like Hank 4, when you cum, Hank 3 doesn't stop whatever he's doing with you.

He made you squirt once and he never stopped talking and bragging about it for MONTHS.

He loves to eat you out while another Hank is fucking you. (He prefers Hank 1)

Eats you out from behind too

He prefers it actually, to eat you from behind. He just likes ass

When he's eating it from the back, he makes you arch your back and have your legs open, on your hands and knees on the bed.

NOW, he's using his hands to either had his hands on your back, forcing your back to arch, or your thighs, forcing them open.

And yk that bump on his nose does WONDERS.

...

Hank 5 is the most passionate out of all of them.

I'm talking hand holding, sweet talking, kissing your thighs.

BIIIIG on hand holding.

He holds your hands with both of his, your legs on his shoulders, your back arching.

He eats your pussy like he's making out with it.

Mainly uses his lips, not his tongue. (But he DOES use both)

He tilts his head to get better angles too.

Before your orgasm, he's going sensually and slowly, taking his time with you. During your orgasm, he eats you out still but slower, working you through it. After your orgasm, he pulls away and kisses your inner thighs until you've calmed down a little. Then he dives back in.

Usually makes you come 2 or 3 times every night.

Gives you tons of hickeys on your inner thighs.

Never made you squirt before BUT that's not a bad thing. He's just too gentle for that.

He mutters praise against your pussy while he eats you out.

And he knows exactly what to say to get you red in the face too.

He makes sure not to over work or overestimate you. And once you're fully satisfied, he crawls on top of you and kisses you softly.

While the others eat you out, he kisses your neck and lips and everywhere he can reach.

...

Now to Hank 1.

Also a very passionate eater.

He likes tongue fucking you while his thumb rubs your clit.

He moans while he eats your pussy. He gets louder when you moan louder too.

With one hand, he tubs your clit while his other hand squeezes and caresses your hips, stomach and boobs.

Like Hank 3, he likes to eat you out from behind. Though he's more gentle and passionate with his movements.

It's like he's making out with your pussy while Hank 3 is IN IT.

He wants you to ride his face fr. And isn't afraid of asking for it.

It turns him on when another Hank is kissing you while he eats your pussy and you struggle to kiss them back because you're moaning too much.

By the time he's done with you he has your juices and saliva all over his mouth, chin and cheek.

When you get close, he moves up to suck on your clit.

Makes you orgasm at least 2 or 3 times a round.

Before your orgasm, he goes at a medium pace. Not too fast not too slow. During your orgasm, he moves up to suck on your clit. After your orgasm, he slowly drags his tongue all over your pussy until you're not so sensitive anymore. Then asks you if he can continue and if you agree, he dives back in.

...

Hank 2 is the gentlest one.

He just focuses on if you're overstimulated or not. And if you are, he stops.

Eye contact and hand holding while he eats you out.

Likes it when you pull his hair, pushing him closer.

He's a little sloppy when he eats. He doesn't focus on one area, his tongue and lips are touching everywhereeeeee.

Also likes it when you ride his face. He likes when you're in control.

^^^also likes 69

His pace depends on what YOU want. If you want slow, he'll give you slow. If you want fast, he'll give you fast.

Like his pace, the amount of rounds depends on what YOU want. If you want just one or two, he'll give you that.

His pace stays the same before and during your orgasms.

He slows down and sometimes stops after it tho. He gives you a couple seconds to come back and asks you if you want more. If you agree to more, he starts by entering his middle and ring finger into your hole and slowly pumping it inside you. Then after a while, he takes them out and replaces them with his mouth.

While he preps you for his mouth again, he kisses you and praises you a ton.

He likes when you're on your back, your thighs pressed against the mattress, your legs on either side of your torso. His arms lay on your thighs, keeping them open as he eats your pussy. His hands hold yours, his fingers intertwining with his.

Teases you a little before diving in, kissing around your clit and inner thighs.

Doesn't stop for anything once he's in it.

Unless it's like an emergency and you're in danger. THEN, he's pulling away.

...

From roughest to gentlest it's: Hank 4, 3, 5, 1, and 2.

Hank 5 is a FREAK but he's just shy so you don't expect it fr.

Hanks 5 and 3 love eating you out at the same time.

Like imagine this:

You're laying on your bed. Hank 2 is on your left, kissing your head and using one hand to keep your leg open. Hank 4 is on your right, staring down at you and your body, his hand keeping your other leg open. Hanks 5 and 3 are both between your legs. Their tongues are clashing against eachother and against your clit. Hank 5 slowly pumps his middle finger in and out of you. Hank 3 uses his fingers to spread you wider to give him and 5 more room for their tongue to explore.

You throw your head back in pleasure, your fingers tangling in both of their hair. Hank 4 starts kissing and sucking on your neck. Your grip tightens on their hair and they both moan against eachothers mouths.

Hank 4 WOULD join in but homie needs his own space when eating pussy.

Hank 3 loves it tho.

Hank 3 and 5 eat your pussy while Hank 4 is under you, fucking you. Hanks 1 and 2 are by you, you're jerking one off and sucking another one off.

Everytime you guys have sex (lit every night), it starts off with them taking turns eating your pussy.

And they figure out who goes first via either Rock, Paper, Scissors or an arm wrestle.

Love my husbands

[poison-doll]

would i!!!! here's the thread i made on x the everything app, home of mechahitler, when it happened.:

in 2019, after more than a decade of being enthralled with #biohacking type stuff, i got a ~1700 gauss magnet implanted in my left ring finger. today (in 2022), i received a 3T fMRI to find out where, exactly, in my brain the depression lives as a precursor to receiving transcranial magnetic stimulation, which did different, also weird things to my body.

the mri was exquisitely painful

to begin with, essentially none of what follows is anyone's fault but my own. the doctor who ordered the mri recommended the magnet be removed. my piercer said it was fine. my doctor disagreed. after failing to find someone who would take it out for me, i resolved to do it myself, but ultimately i couldn't make myself go with it. i've done some bonkers self-surgery before but cutting my finger open, i just couldn't.

the morning i got to LA, i called the imaging clinic, told them about the implant ( the doctor hadn't ) and asked if they were equipped to remove it, or recommend someone who could. i was put on hold for a very long time. the tech came on the line and told me it should be fine. for some reason, this made me more anxious, not less. the tech had some questions for me when i arrived at the clinic. mostly along the lines of "why???" and "how?????" i told him it should be fine for up to 3 Tesla. i don't know what a Tesla is, other than a shitty car and a pretty cool guy. i'm not sure why i settled on 3. a similar implant i found online was found to be safe for MRIs up to 3T! surely a magnet would be fine. did the product page for that implant say, specifically, that none of their magnetized implants should go in an MRI? perhaps. i extrapolated. should be fine.

they took me into the room with the Loud Tube. i was expecting to feel smth in my hand as soon as i went in the room. i didn't. they gave me a bulb to squeeze in case i needed to tap out, and i laid down. still nothing. only when i put my hand on my chest did it start to spin

a brief aside. there are three main sensations that i experience with my magnet:

near microwaves or other high-frequency devices, a sort of buzzing, like holding a tattoo machine or a vibrator, but in my bones.

close to another magnet, a gentle tugging. the tugging is the only one i would describe as unpleasant, and only if they get close enough together to trap my skin in between.

running my finger over both poles of a magnet, a kind of spinning or flipping. this one was the hardest to get used to. my magnet is a disc, and it's very tangible when it turns over inside me.

this brings us to the MRI. as my table started sliding into the Loud Tube, my magnet started flipping. and it didn't stop flipping. suddenly i started experiencing all three sensations, all at the same time, turned up to 11, flipping, pulling, buzzing. in case you were curious, yes, it was uniquely terrible to experience. the pain started very soon after, a sharpness that radiated from my finger most of the way up my forearm. when i lifted my hand off my chest, i could feel the forces competing to pull my hand in different directions and it just sort of floated there. it took a little bit of muscle to move my arm back down to my chest. i was in there for 30 minutes that felt like an eternity and no time at all

several times, the technician asked if i was okay. i couldn't bring myself to say anything other than "i can feel it, but it's not too bad." the reasons i told this particular lie, thrice over, are the purview of psychology rather than anatomy and will this remain unexplained. at a certain point, my hand got very cold. the brain has a fun trick where "cold" and "wet" feel very similar. i was temporarily sure that my magnet was burrowing out of my skin, and the blood that was pooling in my palm was the prelude to a magnetic bullet flying thru my sternum

friends, there was no blood. i just needed a blanket. after failing 40 or 50 times to count to 30, they told me they were done. "huh! already?" was all i could say. as i left the magnet zone, all the sensations were still playing on loop, buzzing dancing sparking up and down my ulna. i wondered if something in my hand had broken, or maybe something in my brain.

i'm writing this about five hours after i got out of the tube. the magnet doesn't appear to have migrated. my finger is slightly bruised, which is horrifying if i'm not imagining it. i can still faintly feel it vibrating, but it doesn't hurt. all in all, a thoroughly unpleasant but not dangerous experience. if you have a magnet in your body, i would strongly recommend you not do anything that might result in an MRI being necessary. i don't regret my implant. i'm glad it's still in me. if given the chance, though, i would have had it removed before i went in the Loud Tube. i've broken bones and sat for 7 hour tattoos and had sutures without anesthetic and more besides. this one? this one sucked shit

thought too hard about MRI machines today and had this come to me in a vision

[reidrum]

countertops | c.k.

A/N: superman (2025) brainrot has consumed me so here is this. i love that silly nerd

summary: in which the kitchen counter is used for eating

cw: smut 18+ minors dni, fem!reader, prn no plot, munch!clark, fingering, praise kink, clark is down bad

wc: 1.3k *smacks the back* this baby only has smut

Clark breathes his entire body into you as his hands roam the spanse of your back, holding you steady against him while his lips take solace in every crevice of your face. He’s placed you on the kitchen counter—his favorite place to keep you to compensate for your differed heights, but also because it keeps you in one place. You could move if you wanted to, he’d let you instantly. But he knows you won’t, not when he drinks you in like a fine wine and handles you with the care of a glass necked bottle.

Your moans and breathless whines only spur him on to press against your body, rolling his hips in a dire effort to become one with yours. The length of him presses and goes in a single brush, with your own hips trailing desperately after to meet again.

“Clark,” you breathe, “need more.”

“Yeah? What more?” he mumbles, lips marking a path down your neck.”

“You know what.”

“Hm, gonna have to be more specific about that, honey.”

You whine, “Don’t be a little shit.”

He nips at your shoulder as you let out a yelp, “Such dirty language, you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“No, I’d like to kiss you with this mouth. But I’d like your mouth to do other things. Amongst that.

“Very bold,” he teases, “didn’t know three months would make you this demanding.”

“Lotta things you don’t know about me, Kent.”

“Not yet, but I will.” he kisses you soundly on the lips, letting himself linger to you for as long as he can. Which arguably, is a long time, but for as long as he can really means for as long as you can. “Now be a good girl and tell me what you want.”

“Clark,”

“What? Communication is good, you can’t get all shy on me now. I have heat ray vision, I can’t read minds.”

You mumble something incoherent into his neck, you hope there’s some superpower of his that can pick up on it.

“What was that?”

Darn.

“I said, I want you to…” you trail off.

He sucks hard on a particular spot, “To…?”

You moan loudly, “Jesus, will you go down on me? Please?”

A shit eating grin splits his stupid face, you can feel every line against your skin. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it darling?”

You don’t get a chance to speak your witty comeback when you feel his fingers trace over the center outline of your trousers, silencing any and all thoughts that aren’t Clark Kent. He applies more pressure as he trails a heavy finger up and down your core.

A languish moan leaves you, “Clark, please.”

“Shh, i got ya,” he coos, “just relax.”

He deftly undoes your buttons and effortlessly lifts you with one hand while he helps you tug both your trousers and panties down. His lips find yours again and your hands snake around his shoulders to pull him even closer to you. Your fingers tangle in his hair and knot in the strands, pulling upwards in that way that you know really riles him up for you. Evidenced by immediately after said action as he detaches from the kiss and abruptly drags you to the ledge of the kitchen counter, only anchored to it by your ass that Clark is so sad he can’t handfully grab.

Sloppy kisses trail down your neck and into your chest, making no efforts to stop anywhere but his intended destination. Clark’s large hands hold your hips down to the counter as he finally sinks to his knees before you, looking up between your parted legs with a face so wrecked you hope he puts himself out of misery soon for his sake. And yours.

His height even at his kneeled position puts him at the perfect angle at eye level with where he needs to be. Clark has always been grateful for his gifts, entirely more so for his heightened olfactory senses that allow him the divinity to indulge in the scent of you and how that much closer to the Gods he feels on his knees before you like a devoted follower.

And like a devoted follower, he will go wherever the divine tells him he is destined for. And right now, that is between your legs.

Clark leans in slowly, never breaking eye contact with you as he approaches your core. His tongue flattens against you in one swift and intentional movement, the warmth of it all flooding your senses and making your eyes roll back into your head.

“Fuck,” you whine.

His tongue licks a long stripe from bottom to top slowly, letting it circle around the bundle of nerves practically begging for his attention. He doesn’t speed up—only practiced, achingly teasing, strokes that have you seeing stars.

You tangle your fingers in his hair again, in hopes it’ll spur him on enough to move faster. But Clark is a patient man, a tempted one for sure by the way his hands grip down on the top of your ass where he’s holding you, but patient nonetheless.

He dips his tongue between your folds and travels down to your opening, prodding inside and then moving back up to your clit. Clark repeats that set of actions for too long of a time to count, long enough to send you into delirium, long enough to know that you would slide off the counter like jello at any moment if he were to let go, and long enough to have you teetering on the edge of bliss torturously.

You’re not sure when he decides to finally take mercy on you, but he speeds up his ministrations and graciously inserts a finger to your core. Two for good measure.

You tighten your grip on his head, “Clark, oh my god.”

He moans shamelessly into your core, like he’s enjoying this more for his own sake than yours—he is, in case there was any room for doubt. He drinks you in like a thirsted man who just discovered an oasis, his fingers rhythmically moving in and out of you. You clench down on his fingers hard when they hit a sensitive spot within you, his name rolling off your tongue in sacred mantras.

Clark releases from you momentarily, his fingers never stopping their pace. “Close, baby?”

And god, you wish you had some sort of photographic memory or way to immortalize this moment forever. Because the vision of Clark Kent on his knees for you—looking devastatingly wrecked at how even a second away from you is wounding him, covered in you—is one you truly wish you could keep for the rest of your life.

“Y—Yeah, I’m close.” you whimper.

He dives back into you with a mission, stopping at nothing to get you there. You writhe in his arms and he exerts little to no effort at holding you steady as he continues his attack (lovingly) on you. His fingers speed up ever so slightly, curling upwards to hit that spot in you that brings you right to the brink.

“Come for me, honey.” he mumbles into your cunt, burying his face in you as much as he possibly can.

Your peak hits you all at once, loud and crashing into every atom of your being and immediately ceasing into complete bliss and quiet as Clark gently works you through your high. His fingers finally slow their pace and he continues lapping at you until the overstimulation gets to you and you forcibly push his head away.

Clark sits on the floor while you’re still up on the counter, legs slightly bent while he rests an elbow on one knee. The other arm comes up and drags across his glistening mouth, effectively wiping away all traces of you onto his dress shirt sleeve.

You pant heavily, “Jesus,”

“What?”

“You’re really hot.” you blurt out, blame the post orgasmic endorphins for your lack of filter.

He smiles like an idiot, “Yeah? How hot?”

You hop off the counter and land straddling his lap, “I can show you?”

He rises to his feet and picks you up on the way up, “I think that’s a good idea.”

[krunchkrunch]

Morning Flight

synopsis: A lazy morning with a Krypton by your side. With a super powered twist.

a/n: Based off a comic book scene where Clark and Lois hookup in the sky. And a comic panel or something I saw of Lois waking up to Clark sleep-floating.

pairing: Clark Kent/Female!Reader

tags: Smut, Shameless Smut, Penis in Vagina Sex, Superpower Use during Sex, Fluff and Smut, Slight Banter and Humour, Flying during Sex, No Use of Y/N

word count: 1.9k

——————————————————————————

It was a beautiful morning. With an even more beautiful man beside you. You had just spent an amazing night, having a romantic candlelight dinner at your shared apartment with this said man.

But this man was not just any man at all. He was Superman.

Well, he was Clark Kent to you. Or Smallville or any other teasing nicknames you could come up with about his country bumpkin roots. But at the end of the day, he was always just Clark.

But this morning you would be reminded of the capabilities of a certain starred immigrant, as you open your closed eyes and feel a lack of a comfy mattress beneath you. Your heart wakes up before you do as your eyes shoot wide open and as you look at the covers draping over you both. You look down.

Holy crap. You’re both in the air.

Random laser shaped burn marks, things being accidentally broken all the time were things you could deal with. A little annoying but fixable. But this?Sleep…floating? Sleep…flying? Meaning that you could fall flat on your face before the day has even started or process what’s happening?

You’re just glad that you were cuddling with him, your arms around his torso to keep you afloat and laying on your side. While he sleeps so blissfully with a small and sleepy smile on his face. Classic Clark.

You tap him on the shoulder gently,because god forbid he jolts asleep and you both break the bed due to dropping a few feet. “Uh…Clark?”

His eyebrows furrow as he lets out a soft groan, before opening his eyes up slowly. It takes him a while to realise what’s going on before looking to the side below him.

“Oh, darn. Didn’t know I could do that.” He murmurs groggily while fixing his hair, while the other hand is snugly around your waist. You wondered how he could talk about this so casually.

“I…didn’t know that either.” You reply with a slight dry tone, as they both of you are still very much floating with the covers just barely clinging on. You raise a slight eyebrow in amusement. “You didn’t know that you levitate in the air while sleeping? It’s never happened before?”

He chuckles a little, his voice a tad bit rougher from being still affected by sleep. “If I have���I haven’t noticed. Or no one has ever told me.” His eyes are warm with affection as he takes in your look, comfortable and right at home in his arms.

“Guess I just feel a little…elevated in spirits today.” He quips with his usual cheesy grin, waiting for the part where you playfully groan and boo him. It’s almost as fun as making the pun.

You give him a deadpan look, though your eyes can’t lie that you do find it indisputably charming. You should hate corny puns but you don’t. You have a newfound appreciation for them because of him. “Very funny. I’m glad our dinner last night had such an effect on you that it appeared in physical form.” You muse.

“Indeed. Maybe my body is showing its appreciation.” He muses back, his eyebrows do a small jump for happiness. They’re still floating by the way, as it’s not uncomfortable. She almost forgets they’re in the air right now. “You should be happy about it.”

You laugh softly. “I am. I’ll let your body know I said thank you.” You pat his chest, which makes his heart flutter. It’s an amazement how you still make his heart sing and stutter, in a way that doesn’t happen with giant monsters or threats he deals with in Metropolis.

“Though…this is some very useful information I will be remembering for later.” You say with slight mischief, as it doesn’t feel that bad as it looks like to someone walking in. You’re completely supported by his arm holding her by his side, it almost feels like they’re in a cloud of some sorts.

Maybe it’s because you’ve already overcome the fear of being in the air with him. Or maybe because…your imaginative mind was going to other places.

It seems like he catches up on that, you can’t exactly expect the man with super hearing and x-ray vision to not notice the small changes in your face. Especially since he loves to stare at it so much.

He looks down at the bed below that at you with the same gaze. “I’ll have to make note of that too.”

“It’s very convenient.” He adds.

You smile back at him slyly like a playful cat. “Yeah. It feels nice and light.” You trace his chest with your finger, feeling how bulky yet soft he is. “The bed isn’t making any noise.” You shrugs your shoulders.

You gaze into his eyes, trying to give an air of nonchalance in this little banter of yours. “Very convenient indeed.” Your voice softens like the sun peeking through the window.

“Maybe it’s not so bad after all.” He murmurs before getting an idea and shifting you so you’re now straddling him in the air. You wobble a bit before adjusting from the speed at which he moved you at, your eyes a little surprised.

“And it’s definitely not so bad like this.” He wiggles his eyebrows a little, which you return with a short eyebrow lift. He starts to feel you up, which was on your bare skin from the…fun you both had last night.

Were you really about to do this? I mean, a little flying wouldn’t hurt right? Especially with him feeling you up like this, you dissolve like putty at his strong and big hands reaching up to your ribcage.

He always convinced you to do the craziest things.

“Are you sure, Clark? I don’t wanna fall off or break my nose.” You say with slight concern, your hands on his chest for stability as you look down at his smitten eyes. Like he’s not even listening to what you’re saying as he admires your body and soul. “I need my nose.” You joke gently.

He chuckles warmly, sending a warm ripple down your spine. “I’ve got super strength, remember?” He’s already getting hard, and you feel it right against your core. “Just focus on enjoying yourself.”

“Look, I’ll show you how comfortable it is.” He promises as before you can even utter a single word, he lifts you up by your pliable hips and glides you down on his length slowly. Your retort gets cut off by a slight gasp and moan, matching with his sound of approval in a deeper tone. You forget what you were even going to say.

“Mmn…Yeah, but…how about moving? Won’t that be…challenging?” You try to breathe out as it feels like he’s in your lungs right now. It’s crazy just how much a Kansas boy like him could fit in those denim jeans of his. Even after a few months of dating, the feeling of him inside of you always felt so full and filling.

“I don’t think so…Not if I’m moving you like this…” He grunts softly as he begins to lift you up and down his aching length with ease, which makes you grip his chest tighter. You start to let out those soft moans he loved so much, he could watch your face melt into pleasure a thousand times. You’re so warm and wet, it’s such an easy glide as he practically bounces you in his lap.

“See? Do you…still think it’s difficult?” He pants as you squeeze him so tightly, like your walls are giving him a firm embrace. His face makes a small wince of pleasure, trying not to cum inside you already at your sudden heat.

“You forget how…ah…persevering I can be when it comes to you…” His eyebrows knit as a ruddy blush starts to colour his cheeks, the sound of your skin contacting filling the bedroom. His grip on your hips is tight but you don’t care, as long as he keeps pummelling your stomach like this.

“Hah…I guess so…” She let out a desperate whine from the throat as he starts to buck his hips up, as he does all the work while you just sit there and take it. You tilt your head back as you whimper his name a few times, your mind being filled with only how good he feels. How good you both feel together. “I..take it back…”

“Hah, yeah…You take it back..?” He can’t help but smile a little bit, though it’s not a full one due to the pleasure running through his body like an electric current. How he can manage to tease you while thrusting up into like his life depended on it astounded you. He increases the pace, which makes your eyes squeeze shut as your head falls back down as he pushes a louder moan from your lips. “I proved you wrong…?”

“Holy crap…yesyesyes…You did…” You start to ramble, he was the only person who could reduce your sharp tongue to mush. You didn’t even care about your ego right now, you would agree to anything he said at this point. He was attacking your weak spot with so much precision it was scary.

Probably because he could use his vision to pump inside of you. Which he also deeply loves. He keeps going, not even really breaking a sweat as he watches you melt on top of him intently.

“Now just focus on making me cum, Clark…I’m so close…” You begged frantically, as you opened your eyes to make eye contact with him. You can tell that he’s getting close too, but how he’s barely keeping his eyes open and staring at the slickness of your arousal around his cock. How a white ring is starting to form at the base of it. “Please…” You start to slam your hips up and down on him, now longer concerned about being in the air.

“Jeez…Don’t worry, I’m gonna get you there…I got you…Crap, you feel like heaven…” His panting and groans get more desperate and needy, his thrust getting a tad sloppy but still doing its job to get you at the finish line. The cover that was barely hanging on for dear life had now slipped off and fell onto the mattress.

But you didn’t even notice since you were already finishing all over him, just how he likes it. “Clark…! Jesus Christ…” Your hips stutter as he pushes your hips down and stops you from moving, pushing his cum further into your hole. You let out a few frantic and breathless moans, your legs trembling like a leaf in the wind.

“Ah, darn it…Just like that…So perfect…So pretty…” He praises you as his thumb rubs your waist, still feeling the pulsing and clenches of your soaked walls. He grinds your over sensitive clit against him in slow motions, dragging out your pleasure.

You let out a deep sigh, your body slumping like a tight string that had been released. You immediately felt relaxed and a little dazed, and you glanced at the dopey grin on his face.

“Darn it? Really?” You teased him as you came to your senses, huffing out a small laugh. Of course he would be the type of person to say darn it during sex.

He scoffs playfully, while his chest goes up and down. “You’re making fun of me now? While I’m so vulnerable and I just gave you so much pleasure?”

“I expected at least a thank you.”

You giggle breathlessly and lean down to give him a soft kiss on the lips, staring into those blue eyes of his for a moment. He smiles back.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He smirks.

She looks down below then back up at him. “We should…probably get down.”

He looks back down, almost like he also forgot that they were still floating completely naked.

“Oh yeah…We probably should.”

[tsukiboo]

ONE PIECE MUNCHERS

my all over the place take on how the one piece boys get down… or rather go down? ft: luffy, zoro, sanji, usopp, law, kid, and ace!

LUFFY

despite many headcannons I’ve seen I’d think luffy would be quite clueless on giving head?.. HOWEVER his curiosity would’ve gotten the best of him and he would’ve figured it out as he went. despite saying that.. he has no technique whatsoever… me and you both know how selfish he gets when he eats, that holds true to when he’s down on his knees. sure luffy should listen to what his partner is wanting from him but the way his tongue is exploring and licking every inch it touches it’s like he’s doing it for him more so for you… it got so bad you had to sit down and force him to listen afterwards bc he’s just so damn selfish! the first time luffy asked if he could give you head he was so… greedy his spit and slick covered fingers he’d lick clean just to finger them back into you and lick them again while still trying to keep his mouth attached to any part of your clit he’s been hooked since… and going forward he’s been the type to randomly ask for it, when he’s in the mood, not in the mood, hungry, or even plain bored and when you ask him why his answer is always “idk it just tastes nice” what a weirdo.

ZORO

3 words: certified. face. sitter. I can’t tell if he likes face sitting because 1) he thinks of it as training or 2) its the easiest laziest way to get you off without him doing too much. always complaining how “you’re holding back on him” or to “stop fucking hovering” and will (quite aggressively if i might add) hold you down so you can’t move… all I’ll say is don’t piss him off.…and if you do manage to piss him off the only enjoyment he’ll be having that moment forward is the feeling your legs shaking because he’s made you cum one two many times… he tries to be nice he really does but that temper.. however when he’s nice he won’t overstim you THAT bad, maybe enough to make you cry his name and maybe then he might stop.. idk it’s zoro.

SANJI

sanji sanji sanji, what a simp. he won’t hesitate to lay everything to get down, lay down, kneel down WHATEVER the case may be to please you. he doesn’t have a specific preference…although he does find himself slightly more eager to kneel down before you while you lie on the table like he’s about to pray for his meal before he eats. very very skilled, he will mentally note every. single. moan, whine, movement or “right there” so that he’ll keep doing it, wanna know why? because he’s a man that listens to please!! all shade to zoro. surprisingly doesn’t pass out from each realization of your pussy stuffed in his mouth and filling his senses….he knows not to waste a good meal.

USOPP

(for my usopp lovers out there)

oh usopp. he gets so dumb so easily eating you out. what starts as fools confidence quickly goes to desperate licks and hungry touches and a clear eagerness to make you finish!! technique?? that went out the window when you started to pull on his hair and pulling him closer. let me tell you this boy goes CRAZYYY for praise and some hair pulling!! a simple “you’re doing so good baby” or “don’t stop it feels so good” and his concentration is SHOT. he meant to listen to you and keep doing what he was doing but the heat went straight to head and right down to his dick. each session always ends up with him rubbing himself against the bed whining whilst he sucks on your clit and somehow cums before you because… well.. he’s too easy. 💔

LAW

if the art of finger was dead so was trafalgar law… bc MAN is he dedicated to the craft. is also a man who does his business in the bedroom and the bedroom only, the crew knows never to step foot in there so he finds it the perfect spot to have his attention solely on you and to have some privacy (because god knows he never can) biggest fucking tease and such a pain in the ass too. some days he hates to hear you beg, other days he won’t give you what you want until you beg he’s so damn annoying. strikes me as the type to do what he wants to do and doesn’t need guidance or pointers (he thinks he’s a fucking know it all) because he’s always so confident that he can make you come… he can.

KID

i hate him but i can’t lie when i say he’s a big fan for 69.. it always starts off as a challenge “seeing who can get the other off the fastest and easiest” then turns into him taking complete control while filthy degrading you. he loves having his dick sucked ofc but getting top while also eating you out and feeling you get so distracted so easy for him fills his sick ass ego. fuck the top atp he loves having you in the palm of his hand begging and panting for him to make you cum. what’s worse is when he starts talking (period end of sentence) so fucking filthy, telling you how much of a dumb fucked out whore you are as you embarrassingly grind on his face, he makes fun of how wet you keep getting… threatening to leave you high and dry just because.

ACE

loves when you tell him what to do and how to do it, he’s a simple man born to please. whatever your favorite position is happens to be his favorite too. he’s so damn whipped Strikes me as one of the (if not most) experienced eater from the list, with a pretty face like his it’s always getting sat on, and he’s happy to offer a seat. also another man who hasn’t lost the art of fingering!! while also giving you SO much fucking praise. he’d replace his mouth with his fingers giving himself a chance to admire you. leaving wet sloppy kisses on your thighs, stomach, tits, neck, literally any place that deserves his praise his lips are on it, worshiping you as if you were heaven-sent.

[clownhousemargarita]

“baby.” ┆ jax .𖥔 ݁ ˖

────────────── ⋆ ₍ᐢ. ༝ .ᐢ₎ ⋆ ──────────────

“jax?” your voice bounced off the hallway walls, you immediately covered your mouth in shock of how loud you were at such a late..time? yeah. sure, let’s say time. you followed your call out with a whisper, “jax? baby? where’d you go?”

you knew when he was upset, he made it obvious. he has different levels of upset — pouty bitch, irritated thumper, and ‘im putting your name in the suggestion box to abstract’.

thankfully we were at pouty bitch. it seemed that the adventure was boring, and he was cranky and tired. if he’s not constantly being entertained, he becomes hyper aware of his reality bending situation. you heard a muffled groan coming from his room, you assumed he had heard you the first time and welcomed you to find him.

you roll your eyes and make your way to his room, opening the door with the key you stole from him awhile back. you believe thats what made him fall in love with you. you were sneaky and playful. he loved that about you.

you found him in a pitiful state, his limbs not even laying in a proper way — one leg on the floor, the other sprawled out on the bed, his arms in two different directions and his head hanging off the bed. you were unsure how he wasn’t slipping down onto the floor. “are you three years old?” you put your hand on your hip with a unamused expression on your face.

he groaned again and actually allowed himself to slip off his bed, you guess he was just holding his place in that stupid position. “i’ll f$&k you up, man.” he responded pointing his finger at you. he wasn’t even facing you. you sigh and close the door behind you, reverting the key back into your pocket. “cmere.” you walk over to pick him up, he was a very light boy.

you sit down on the bed with your knees up, laying your back on his pillows. positioning him to sit on your lap, which he usually resisted as he likes it the other way around. but in his sluggish state he just let you mess around with him like a rag doll. he laid against you, his head in the crook of your neck and his hands set on your hips. you noticed the way he tightened his grip on your hips.

“im real baby.” you said softly, knowing thats what he was trying to feel. how real you were against him. “you’re real.” he repeated, sighing in relief. “you promise.” his voice upset you. your poor baby. “pinky.” you rubbed his back, he leaned back to make eye contact with you, his face went from an exhausted expression to his signature conniving smile. you smiled back at him, yours similar to his.

“you look real good right now.” he whispered, leaning in closer to you. you giggled and turned away shyly. “i look the same as i do everyday, stupid.” it’s true, you did. you all did.

“nah uh, your face is cuter than normal. maybe its the ‘taking care of me’ expression, makes me wanna do unspeakable things to you.”

you laugh and push his smiling face away in embarrassment. “shut up!” he giggled and kissed your cheek. you returned a kiss to his lips, pushing him on his back and climbing on top of him while continuing the kiss. he wrapped his arms around your neck and you set yours on his waist. he suddenly pulled away, a blank expression on his face.

“are we getting freaky.”

“bro.”

“can we?”

“never ask like that again.”

“may we get freaky?”

you pretended to get up from your dominate spot as he laughed and pulled you back down. “my bad, i was being polite.” you held back your giggling. “very considerate.” he nodded in agreement.

“i love you.” he said suddenly. no, it wasn’t the first time you two said that to each other, but he seemed so shy about admitting that unprompted. it wasn’t genuine, like he thought out loud. you smiled sweetly,

“i love you more baby.”

──────────── ִ ʚ♡ɞ ────────────

~ clown 𓆩♡𓆪┆ ⤿ 💌 ⌗ 7/13/25

[star-girl69]

❦ Buttons

Daniela Avanzini … college!au

Synopsis: It turns out it was never casual.

Feel free to send Dani requests 😘

Warnings: y’all they play strip poker except it’s not poker bc idk how to play. They play strip card. Idk. I think we get the point… but just to make it clear!! Alcohol, reader drinks, probably inaccurate depictions of parties and alcohol (guys I write fanfic I don’t go out.) possessive!dani, jealous!dani, a little bit of angst but a happy ending, lots of making out, some sexual innuendos and such, the usual swearing, lmk if I missed anything!

A/n: this is my first Katseye fic but anyways I think it’s cute lmk what y’all think 😘 this fic is so long. Omg. I’m sorry. ALSO!! This fic is not a real portrayal of anyone mentioned! This is for entertainment purposes only 💗

And also yes I’m using my original side characters from my other fics BC I WANT TO!!!!

Maybe listen to … Buttons by The Pussycat Dolls (or the Dream Academy version 🙈)

—-

Your eyes flick over the elaborate Instagram post, smiling at the shameless picture of your best friend on the second slide, looking at the infographic again.

Another party your best friend is throwing.

This one is supposed to a game night with promises of seven minutes in Heaven, spin the bottle, card games, and stripping games.

You roll over in bed, turning to face your roommate.

“Jackie?”

She’s engrossed in her phone, giggling at something, but as soon as she turns to look at you a wicked smile crosses her face.

“Have you seen my beautiful new instagram post?” She smirks. “Don’t I look so pretty in it?”

You stare her down, the corner of your lips unwillingly turning up into a smile.

“Ugh. Whatever! I’m a grown woman, okay? And, besides, it’s not even my party. It’s Matty’s and his frat’s party, I’m just promoting.”

“When is it?” You relent, slightly curious, feeling a little bit better by the fact it wasn’t technically her party.

“Girl, read the fucking infographic. That shit takes time to make.”

You roll your eyes but look back to your phone anyways.

“Tomorrow. Fun. No way I’m going with one day’s notice to a themed party.”

Jackie quickly stands up at this, crossing the room to throw herself on top of you.

“No!” She shouts, straddling you and pinning your hands to the bed. “You have to come, Y/N!!”

You attempt to push her off you with a screech.

“I literally don’t!!”

“Dani will probably be there…” she says suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows.

Shit.

As soon as she mentions the name of your infuriating friends-with-benefits-situationship-who-you-kinda-want-to-be-more she knew that you would be coming.

An opportunity to see Dani is an opportunity to… do other things with Dani.

“Maybe I’ll come,” you shrug, but your heart beats more just at the thought of her.

“You’re so in love with her,” Jackie teases, light-heartedly.

You quickly stick a smile on her face as she relents, getting up off of you and moving to your shared closet, talking animatedly about an outfit for you to “bag a baddie” whether that’s Dani, or someone to make her jealous.

Maybe your life revolves a bit too much around Daniela.

Sometimes, laying awake in her arms after a hook up, you stare up at the ceiling and try to coach yourself into believing that you’re happy with just this. You’re happy with whatever the hell you two are. You’re okay with not having all of her.

Then you’ll remember what just happened moments earlier.

And you’ll remember the way she makes you feel, that bad habit she has of biting her lip that drives you crazy, the way she tucks your hair behind your ears even when she’s on top of you.

She always finds a way to tuck your hair behind your ear. It’s not in a weird way, and you’ve never asked her why she does it, but you like to think to yourself that it’s just another way to touch you.

Sometimes she lingers.

God, sometimes her fingers stray just a bit too long, and her eyes widen and she catches herself. She’ll tuck her hands behind her back and start biting her lip, like she’s physically restraining herself from touching you.

Holding hands is a bit too platonic. Grabbing your waist is a bit too romantic.

But this, for whatever reason, feels good. It feels right.

You usually lay in bed for a bit longer. Listening to her breathing against you. And every night you tell yourself this is the last time you’ll let yourself pretend she’s your girlfriend. And every time the cycle repeats again.

—-

“Fuckin’ Professor Davis,” you mumble to yourself, angrily zipping your bag up as you sigh heavily. Your last class on Friday is always the worst no matter what it is. So close to freedom yet so far. It didn’t help that Professor Davis was fucking infuriating.

“What are you mumblin’ about?”

Your body tenses up.

“Nothing, Dani,” you mumble.

She easily falls into step beside you, shoulders bumping, and usually her presence would brighten your day- but Jackie was sending you pictures all class of outfit options for the two of you. Now you were stressed out, annoyed by the impossible deadline Professor Davis had set- really? A three page essay due on Wednesday?

“I don’t know why I ever wait for you after your class with him. He pisses you off so much,” she teases.

“It’s not my fault he’s the most idiotic professor to ever teach ever. I mean, seriously-”

She reaches out and tucks your hair behind your ear in a gesture that’s supposed to be calming.

And you’re… kinda in love with her. So it works.

“Calm down,” she soothes. You meet her eyes. She’s smiling at you softly, amusement etched all over her face. You quickly look forward again.

“Fine, whatever,” you mumble.

“Mumbling again,” she scolds jokingly, but thankfully lets it go. “Are you going to the party tonight? I figure you are, since Jackie posted it.”

“Yeah. Are you?”

“As long as you’re there, cariño.”

Her voice drops.

“Can I see you after? Please?”

Everything in your body screams to run to her. But that part of you that is still fighting desperately not to get hurt is screaming at you to run away.

Your heart starts beating faster.

She makes you feel like you’re drowning.

“Maybe,” you say.

“I’ll change that,” she smiles. She gets closer until she’s whispering in your ear. “I’ve missed you so much.”

You fall back into it.

“Maybe, Daniela.” You shoot her a smile. Her eyes light up. This is part of it, for her. The chase thrills her. She’s a little bit like a big lion, or something. She gives off this fierceness and definitely can be, but there’s also this big cuddly side to her. And that part of her that likes to chase you around on a stick.

That’s what it’s like, you suddenly realize.

She’s chasing you around like you’re dangling on a stick in front of her. When really you’re attached to her already.

You stop in front of the door to your dorm.

“I mean, no pressure.” She backtracks. “It’s not like we’re dating. You can do whatever you want.”

And just like that, she breaks the fantasy you were building.

“Oh, yeah, obviously.”

You start walking to your dorm before you can stop and replay the conversation in your head. You don’t notice the way her jaw tightens. The slight change in her voice, like she was forcing the words out. You don’t stay long enough to notice it.

—-

She says all the right things, calls you these Spanish pet names that are ten times better than anything anyone could say in English, and you know the intention behind it is wrong.

It’s not done out of love.

It’s all transactional- she makes you feel special. You fall into her bed. Into her. Again. And… again. And you flirt right back because it feels so good to pretend.

You sigh, cheers coming from the next room over as the already drunk frat boys get the broken speaker to work again. Music starts blaring through the house.

You don’t recognize the song, but it is in Spanish.

You roll your eyes, red solo cup crunching under your tight grip. Of course everything always comes back to her.

Maybe she’ll just always haunt you.

“Fuck,” you mumble, shaking your head as you reach for a bottle of vodka and pour more of it into your shitty drink.

“Y/N,” Jackie says with a bright smile, although the concern seeps into her eyes. “You okay, babe?”

It’s 9pm, the start time Jackie wrote on her infographic. People will start showing up soon, but it won’t actually become a true party until 10.

“Pregaming,” you shrug, knowing she sees right through it.

“Okay, fuck this.”

Her hand clamps around your wrist and she drags you through the mostly empty house until she locks the two of you in the bathroom.

“You’ve been acting all fuckin’ moody lately,” she immediately accuses. Your mouth drops open in shock. “I’m sick of it. Talk to me.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I literally haven’t.”

Sure, you’ve been thinking about Dani a bit more lately, but it wasn’t outwardly noticeable.

“The last time you hooked up with Dani you came home the next morning with some really sexy bruises on your hips to be fair, but also some crazy sad look in your eyes. Then you laid in bed staring at the ceiling hugging a goddamn pillow.”

Her eyes narrow on you.

“Dani is really beautiful, but no friends with benefits shit should make you feel like shit.”

Maybe you did do that.

“It’s whatever, okay?”

“It’s not, though. Not when I can see it on your face, babe.”

She grabs your hand, this earnest look in her eyes that suddenly reminds you she’s your best friend. She’s the girl who hugged you when you would get homesick freshman year. She’s the girl who parties with you and makes sure you’re never alone. She’s the one who listens to you talk about Daniela.

“It just sucks,” you finally relent.

“Yeah?”

“Like, sometimes I want to be more. But I know that would never happen. She’s just so… Dani. She doesn’t really fit with me. She would never want me back. Like ever. So maybe it’s better to just let her go now, you know?”

Jackie draws you into a tight hug that literally fixes every broken part of your soul.

You don’t realize it when a single tear escapes your glassy eyes and rolls down your face, but she notices it.

“I don’t think I want to keep being led on like this.”

It breaks you to say that. You’ve given Dani so much of your time, finally accepting that you were only meant to love her and leave her is harder than you thought.

The thing about Daniela is not only that she’s startlingly beautiful and haunts your every waking moment, but she’s so goddamn charismatic that everyone loves her. It’s why you love her.

Jackie backs away, and you look at yourself in the mirror. Red sparkly top. Jean shorts that were way too short. Your arms wrapped around yourself and a look on your face like you had just survived a war.

“First of all, don’t think like that. You are so gorgeous, and she’s lucky to have you. Also, she’s completely in love with you. I honest-to-God think so.”

You roll your eyes.

“Okay. Why don’t we just have fun tonight? Tomorrow we can talk.”

“I need to get so drunk,” you weakly laugh, wiping the tears from your face.

“I can definitely help with that.”

—-

This is definitely not the best party you’ve ever been to. But you’re so drunk that it certainly feels like it.

It’s 11, the house is now so full of people you just have to push through the crowd and hope you don’t knock someone over. So crowded that saying “excuse me” is pointless.

It’s exhilarating, this many people around, and for a while you really forget about her. Dancing with Jackie until Megan crosses your path on the dance floor.

Dani and her group of 5 other girls are inseparable.

Where one of them is, the rest of them are soon following. If Megan is here, so is Lara, Yoonchae, Sophia, and Manon. And Daniela.

Megan doesn’t see you, but by the way she’s animatedly greeting people, she probably just got here. And, shit, your eyes gravitate towards the door.

You don’t see her come in.

Jackie grabs you, obviously seeing Megan too, pulling you close to whisper in your ear.

“You good?” She asks, shouting slightly so you can hear her over the music and commotion.

You take a deep breath. You’re that perfect level of drunk where nothing can stay in your mind for too long, and all you want is to dance.

You nod.

She smiles.

Daniela appears behind her.

She’ll never want you back.

It keeps repeating in your head like a mantra. It’s written behind your eyes. It’s all you can think about.

“Hi Jackie,” she says, but doesn’t even spare her a glance.

She’ll never want you back.

Dani’s eyes rake their way up your body and you’re sure she can see you visibly swallow.

She really is like a lion. Her eyes are striking, her smile is sharp, everything about her has this sort of quality that makes it seem like she’s hiding razor sharp claws somewhere.

Her eyes are like claws now, stopping specifically around your hips and chest and leaving particularly deep marks.

“Hey, baby.”

Her smile. Your legs feel weak.

“Miss me?” She asks, joking on the fact you just saw each other a few hours ago.

“Obviously not,” Jackie says for you, a joking smile on her face. Her eyes are full of panic, glancing to you, not sure how she’s supposed to react on your behalf.

She’ll never want you back.

“H-hi,” you say back, stupidly. Your brain feels like it’s being sloshed around in a bucket of vodka.

She laughs. “Wow, you are so drunk.”

She steps closer, one hand coming to your waist, too low, fingertips brushing your ass- the other tucking your goddamn hair behind your ear.

You can’t stop staring at her eyes.

Your inhibitions are down. You’re about to make a total fool of yourself, you’re about to literally fuck her on the dance floor.

She’ll never want you back.

Someone squeezes your hand and caresses your shoulder. But it takes you a few seconds to look away from Dani, for everything to come back into focus.

The music starts blaring again. An elbow jams into your back.

She’ll never want you back.

“Y/N,” Jackie says. “I gotta go talk to Matty.”

“Wait, Jackie!” You say, needing to get away from Daniela, but she’s already disappeared into the crowd.

Dani grabs you as you try to run after her.

She’ll never want you back.

“You are way too drunk to be on your own,” she’s slightly teasing, slightly serious, and her thumb is rubbing back and forth from where she holds you by your arms. “You good?”

She’ll never want you back.

“Drunk,” you shrug. Drunk on her. And on vodka, but whatever. “I’m sorry, Dani, I really have to go.” You start trying to pull away, watching her frown.

Dani frowns. “Y/N-”

“No, I-I’m sorry. I gotta get away.”

You don’t stay long enough to see the hurt look on her face.

—-

After another few shots of reassurance, you feel a little better, a little more drunk, and now that you’re away from Dani- your head is clearer.

You would laugh if you could.

You’re so drunk your balance is shot, you can’t even think about what you’re doing, and yet you don’t feel like you’re drowning.

After watching you down three shots, Jackie had sighed, made Matty promise to watch out for the two of you, and quickly caught up.

The two of you like this with dangerously low inhibitions was probably not good… but it was too late to do anything about it.

People had been playing card games all night mixed in with some drinking, placing bets on who would win, but now the party had started to congregate in whatever room this was.

There were two couches, and in between was a small coffee table, low to the ground. There were a few decks of cards and drinks scattered about, but everyone gave the area a wide berth.

You and Jackie watched the unmoving area.

“That’s where he wants the strip poker to happen.”

“Really?” You turn to Jackie, her Instagram post suddenly flashing back to you. “Oh, yeah. Strip poker,” you giggle. “They’re all a bunch of pigs.”

“Could be fun.”

She shrugs, as if what she says is nonchalant.

You lock eyes before she suddenly bursts into laughter.

But something inside of you lights up.

“Wait, let’s do it.”

“What?” She gawks. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not? We’re single…ish. Hot.”

For once, this excitement doesn’t have you thinking about Dani.

Jackie thinks it over.

Matty suddenly comes up behind the two of you, all of you forgetting his earlier promise to watch out for you two, and he’s clearly just as drunk.

“Did I hear you say you wanna play?”

You and Jackie share one last look.

—-

“Ladies and gentlemen, my drunk guys and girls, welcome to another one of my fuckin’ amazing parties!”

The crowd cheers.

You and Jackie are sitting across from each other at the table, being given random kitchen table chairs and told that you’re more than welcome to stand on them. You smile. You’re happy.

“Tonight is our main event. My two beautiful friends, Jackie and Y/N, are going to give everyone a wonderful show of… strip poker!!”

The house literally shakes with how much cheering happens.

“Remember to pay 5 dollars to me if you haven’t!” He shouts, before unceremoniously and rather quickly dealing each of you seven cards. “You draw one card at a time. Whoever gets the lower number has to take something off. Aces beat everything.”

He flashes both of you a bright smile before stepping back.

You’re not nervous. You’re not thinking about her. You cross your legs on the chair, a few boys whistle, and that only makes you feel more confident.

“Ready?” Jackie asks, smiling wide, giddy and excited.

“Yes,” you say, sporting and equally cheery smile.

“3..!” Matty starts counting down.

You grab a card.

“2..!”

Your stomach flips.

“1..!”

You swear you see a flash of something familiar in the crowd.

You both flip your cards.

Jackie draws a 10. You draw a 6.

The crowd erupts into cheers and whistles.

You smile, standing up as you place one of your legs on the chair. You run your hand down your legs before finally slipping your shoe off.

“Nope! Nope!” Matty shouts. “Shoes aren’t technically an item of clothing, but I’ll allow it if you take both off.”

This is met with more cheers.

You’re honestly kinda flattered by how many people want you to take your clothes off. You pretend to pout, when really you feel great. This was the reminder you needed.

So what if Dani didn’t want you back? Someone else in this crowd could take her spot.

You take your other shoe off with the same amount of fanfare before sitting back down.

Jackie loses the next round and takes off her shoes too.

Jackie loses again.

She undoes her belt and throws it to Matty.

You lose.

You don’t have enough clothing to be playing this.

Thankfully you do have a pair of fishnets on, but all of this cheering is kinda getting to your head, so you stand up on the chair. You wobble a bit and the crowd laughs, but you steady yourself by bending over and grabbing onto the back of it. Jackie and the group of people behind her cheer a little louder.

You start rolling down your fishnets, letting them shimmy down your ankles, and finally kicking them off into the crowd.

They were ripping, anyways.

“Spin! Spin! Spin! Spin!” The crowd chants.

You laugh. “You want me to spin?” You shout.

You glance at Jackie, but she only laughs and starts clapping to encourage you.

You twist your hands up into the air, tilting your head back slightly to expose the column of your neck. You do a few spins, looking back down at the crowd. The faces mostly bend together, and it’s mostly boys like Matty in the crowd, clearly enjoying the show.

You feel this sense of headiness that reminds you of when it’s good with Dani. You feel this all rush to your head, this admiration. You may have a giant ego after all of this.

That’s when you see her. When you really remember that she’s there, she’s real. She was almost yours.

But she’ll never want you back.

She’s in the crowd with a few of her friends who are cheering for you and smiling. They’re all sweet, and you wave to them.

Dani’s eyes are dark. She’s practically glaring at you. Her red solo cup is getting crushed in her tight grip.

Good, you think to yourself. You’re not stupid. You’re sure she has a roster. She can find someone else because she’s incapable of choosing you and committing.

You blow her a kiss.

You sit back down, feeling flushed and exposed. But in a weird good way. Maybe you wouldn’t be doing this if you were sober. But you’re drunk, and there’s nothing you can do.

At this point, Jackie has grabbed her cards and started standing on the chair too. You grab one of yours, feeling hundreds of eyes rake over your body the way that Dani’s do.

A drumroll starts.

You flip your cards.

You lose again.

Now you really don’t have anything else to give up.

Jackie throws her head back and laughs.

Your hands find the ends of your shirt, lifting it up over your head, leaving you in your short shorts and a red lacy bra.

The crowd goes absolutely crazy. You can’t stop smiling.

You can’t help but look towards Dani again. She’s facing Manon, her best friend, looking back at your intermittently.

Your heart stutters as you realize she’s angry.

She keeps gesturing to you.

Manon looks to be trying to calm her down. Sophia is holding onto her arm like she had tried to run up to the chair and stop you.

You look away, taking a steadying breath.

The sixth round. Jackie loses and takes off her shirt too, leaving herself in a bra and shorts just like you. At least she still has her tights on.

The last round.

You lose.

You start to fiddle with the buttons on your shorts. There’s two of them, and you have fun unbuttoning them slowly, biting your lip as you do so, sharing a few charged glances with Dani- who can’t take her eyes off of you.

You finally slip them off. Someone whistles so loud it actually kind of hurts your ears. You flick them off onto the floor.

Jackie shrugs before raising her hands in the air.

“I may as well join you!” She shouts, slipping off her own shorts.

She’s two far away to reach, but you suddenly wish you could hold her hand.

After a few more seconds of standing up there, a bunch of boys rush forward to help you off of the chair, one guy actually getting on his hands and knees in front of you as a very ineffective stepping stool. You grab two random hands as you step onto the guys back, before finally stepping off and onto the floor again.

At the bottom of this staircase of men is Dani and her group.

Megan and Lara are laughing hysterically at all of the men reaching for you.

You walk forward, hips swaying. Lara and Megan immediately bow down and grab your hands jokingly.

“Oh my god, you were so good!” Megan says, smiling as she stands up again.

“You are so hot,” Lara compliments simply. “Do you wanna get out of here?” She wiggles her eyebrow suggestively before bursting into more laughter.

“I think I have a very long roster now,” you laugh. “But I’ll add you.”

“Oh thank you Y/N, the amazing sexy Y/N.”

Yoonchae is the next to speak up. She’s an exchange student from Korea, and you smile at the way her cheeks are a little pink from just watching you.

“I’m scared,” she says. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

“We get crazy in America, babe!” Lara shouts.

You finally bring yourself to look at Dani, placing your hands on your waist.

Manon is standing shoulder to shoulder with her. Sophia is smiling at you but holding Dani’s hand tightly.

“Did you guys like it?”

“Um, yes!!” Sophia shouts. “You really put on a show! Are you sure you don’t wanna change your major to theatre?”

“I think I have a boner,” Manon jokes with a shrug.

Dani, who had been silently glaring at you the entire time, finally seems to break at this. While the rest of you erupt into laughter, she breaks out of Sophia’s grip and grabs your wrist.

“You need to come with me. Now.”

“Dani,” you start. Her grip on your wrist is possessive.

“Shut up.”

Her friends all try to interject but she’s suddenly pulling you through the crowd. You’re too surprised to even think about letting you go.

You find yourself in a hallway.

She opens one door. Someone shouts and you get a glimpse of two people on a bed.

“Oh god,” you mumble.

She drags you to the next door.

“Dani. What the fuck are you doing?” You try to tug her to stop, but she quickly rejects that and pulls you forward.

The next door is locked.

“Fuck,” she curses, taking you to the next door.

“Dani!” You shout.

The next door is open and empty.

She pulls you inside. She doesn’t even bother to turn the lights on, but the light to the adjoining bathroom was left on, giving you enough light to see her.

Seeing Dani in the dark is all you’ll ever do. Unless you get out now, you’re stuck in this cycle forever. She told you when you first started this that she’s not ready for commitment. And you respect that, and you love being with her- but you can’t keep pretending that you’re okay with only having some of her.

She unzips her hoodie and puts it over your shoulders.

“Please. You look like you’re freezing.”

“Dani.” You take a breath, zipping up her jacket, not feeling well enough to be completely exposed to her. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Like actually?”

“Um, with me? You fucking blew me off earlier. Next time I see you, you’re getting fucking naked for the entire goddamn party.”

“We are not dating,” you remind her. “And also, don’t slut shame me. I can do whatever I want.”

She leans against the door, her head hitting the back of it. Her neck is exposed, and you think back to the last time you were with her, how you kissed up her neck.

Sadness burrows deep inside you before your anger resolves.

“I can do whatever I want,” you repeat. “You told me this was casual. Besides, I’m sure you’ve been fucking other girls.”

Okay, that wasn’t true. But you’re angry.

Her mouth gapes open in shock.

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

“Don’t be dumb, Daniela. You’re, like, the most popular girl here. You could have anyone.”

“You don’t be dumb. You’re the only girl I’m fucking. Are you serious? Why would I even look at anyone else when you’re right in front of me.”

“Whatever. You wanted this to be casual. Remember that, Dani.”

She jumps off of the door. She grabs your face with one hand, her fingers digging into your cheeks and kisses your roughly. It’s all emotion. It’s all anger, jealously, every ugly emotion that she bares openly to you in this messy kiss.

It feels like fireworks. Like butterflies. Like what all the cliches say it’s supposed to feel like.

She finally lets you pull away. A string of split connects the two of you. Her lipstick and yours is smeared on her face. You’re both breathing heavily, her pupils are dilated, her eyes moving from your lips, pouted due to her tight grip on your cheeks, back up to your eyes.

“I’m changing my mind- no. I have changed my mind, Y/N. I want all of you. I’ve wanted all of you. For a long time. And I wish I told you sooner, because this was the worst night of my life.”

She smiles like that solves anything.

It all starts to click in your head.

“Are you serious?” You push her hand off of your face.

Her smile falters.

“I’m in love with you, hermosa.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“What?” She asks, looking genuinely confused.

“You wanted this to be casual. You led me on for months, Daniela. You made me feel like shit. I-I lost so much. So much of my self-respect and my confidence letting you drag me around. I’ve been in love with you since the moment I saw you. And tonight was good for me. It… made me feel good again.”

You didn’t even know you were feeling like this until she was in front of you with your lipstick on her face and you were suddenly shouting at her.

But it’s always been there.

The reason you thought she would never want you back… maybe it wasn’t anything she did. Maybe it was just your own brain making stuff up.

“I don’t think you could ever love me.”

“Herm- Y/N-”

“I think I want to be alone right now.”

“Oh.”

She looks like a kicked puppy.

You want to leave. But you can’t bring yourself to.

“It doesn’t matter that I love you?”

You take a step towards her and the door. You can’t decide which one you’re stepping towards.

“Because I do. I love you. I was literally about to step up there grab you off of that chair myself. I-I was so jealous. Like embarrassingly jealous. I think I discovered things about myself,” she laughs quickly before sobering up again. “And I just… I just want you.”

She steps closer.

“Please just say you love me back.”

“I do love you, Dani.”

Her eyes soften.

“But I need to, like, think about myself for once. Seriously. So I can’t… I can’t do this right now. As much as I want too.”

The silence stretches out.

“Say it one more time,” she whispers, finally looking away from you, eyes fixing on the floor.

It’s easy to say because it’s true.

“I love you, Daniela.”

—-

When you leave the bedroom, tears are streaming down your face. You’re not looking where you’re going, too busy trying to keep mascara from running down your face. It’s no surprise when someone says your name and softly stops you.

“Manon,” you say, taking a deep breath. Dani still hasn’t left the bedroom you were in.

“What happened?” She asks, in a way that tells you she’s not demanding, but simply open to listening.

“How much did you know?”

You’re not sure how much of what you did Dani told her friends.

“I know you guys were having sex,” she says, cautiously.

“Mhm.” You laugh dryly. “And we just confessed our love for each other, so, yeah.”

Her brows furrow. “Wait. Then why-”

A door behind you creaks open and shut.

Manon looks up and you can tell by her reaction that it’s Dani leaving the bedroom. You can feel her eyes on your back.

“I’m gonna go,” you mumble, slipping away from Manon and into the crowd of people. She hesitates but doesn’t stop you.

You lose yourself in the anonymity of the crowd.

Manon draws Dani into a hug, comforting the brunette as she does her best not to cry. “Babe, what happened?”

“She loves me,” is all Dani can think to say. Because that’s all that matters.

—-

You wake up the next morning hungover. Your head pounds, you can hear Jackie throwing up in the bathroom, and you remember everything.

How good it felt playing that game. How good it felt to know that Dani loved you. How much it hurt to know that you needed to step away to love yourself.

You stare at the ceiling, unmoving, listening to Jackie in the bathroom and trying to will away your own nausea. When she comes back, she flops onto your bed which makes your head scream.

“Jackie!” You moan, putting your hands over your eyes.

“What happened with Dani?”

“Damn. No hi? How are you?”

“Girl.”

After the talk with Dani, you had quickly found Jackie and left with her… without some of your clothes. You hadn’t wanted to talk about it last night, but it was obvious something had happened. You felt like you had been drowning, on the brink of death, and had finally been returned to air. All you wanted to do was sit here and breathe… even though you yearned for the touch of the hands that were drowning you.

“Y/N?” She pries, gently. She’s laying on her side, tucked in next to you with her head on your shoulder. “I saw her drag you off. What happened after that?”

You sigh.

“She… told me she’s in love with me.”

“WHAT?!”

“JACKIE!”

You hiss, digging your hands into your temples as she groans too. After a minute of recovery, your headaches have both faded back to their regular dull stabbing.

“Sorry. But what. The. Fuck. I fuckin’ knew it, first of all.”

“Oh, well that’s nice for you,” you remark sarcastically.

“And… why isn’t that good?”

“Because I hated myself when I was with her. You were literally the one who told me that she shouldn’t make me feel like shit.”

“Okay, true. But half of that stuff you were freaking out about was in your head. Babe, it was obvious she was in love with you.”

“Well why didn’t you tell me?!!”

“I literally did.”

“Whatever,” you mumble, not emotionally ready to handle that. “I think it’s pretty over. Or it will be over, once we get over each other.”

“But.. you’re in love with each other? I think you can learn to love yourself while she loves you too. Actually, that may be helpful. Like, I can tell you you’re beautiful, but I am not going to kiss you. Sorry.”

“Rude,” you gasp.

“Like, you’re hot, but Dani would kill me. I saw her while we were playing. She was pissed.”

“She told me she was jealous,” you admit.

“She wasn’t just jealous, she was, like, crazy possessive. She did not stop looking at you the entire time. Except for when she started arguing with Manon. She looked like she wanted to kill everyone in the room and then fuck you.”

She pokes you.

“Girl, that’s kinda hot.”

You stare at the ceiling.

“That’s okay. I know you like it.”

“Anyways,” you sigh, ignoring your best friend’s giggle. “I think I just need some time?”

“That sounds like a question, babe.”

“Because I don’t know!” You sigh. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Okay, well, I guess you should take some time to think. But I am team Dani, just so you know.”

“Thanks, Jackie,” you roll your eyes, wincing when it aggravates your headache.

“You do know you fell asleep in her hoodie though, right?”

You sit up on instinct, looking at the hoodie in shock. It’s hers. The one she put on you in the bedroom.

“Fuck.”

Your stomach turns.

“Fuck.”

“I’m supporting you from over here,” Jackie says as you run into the bathroom.

Dani: I hope ur not too hungover this morning.

Dani: If u ever need anything I’m here. Always

—-

The next time you see Daniela is after your Monday class with Professor Davis. Luckily, he was tame today, because you and Daniela always cross paths in this hallway.

You go the same direction at the same time. She always finds you in this hallway and walks you to your dorm. It used to be something cute that made you feel special. That made it easier to pretend like you were really dating.

When you exit the lecture hall, the first thing you do is look at her. She’s walking down the hallway, but looking straight ahead in an almost unnatural way. You hesitate at the door.

You watch as she finally gives in, sneaking one glance over to your lecture hall as she walks past.

Your gazes lock immediately.

Someone walking out of the classroom bumps into your back. You don’t even acknowledge it.

She looks away first.

Then glances back again.

—-

Matty places a McDonald’s bag on your desk.

“I’m sorry about not taking care of you guys on Friday.”

“It’s ok, Matty,” you say, grabbing the fast food bad from him and smiling at the correct order. “Thank you very much.”

Despite the shit you and Jackie sometimes give him, he really is a good guy. And by frat standards, he’s an angel.

“If it makes you guys feel any better, you were both really sexy.”

“Thanks,” you smile.

“We know,” Jackie says at the same time.

“A few of the guys already asked me if I can throw another party with strip poker again,” he laughs.

“Maybe we should perform again,” you joke.

“For real?” Matty asks, face turning serious.

“No,” you roll your eyes.

“Oh. No, yeah, that’s cool. A few guys asked for your guys numbers, too. But I shut that down.”

“I dunno,” Jackie starts, picking at a throw pillow in her lap. “I think Y/N needs a little something-something.”

“About Dani, right?” Matty asks. “I saw you two getting pretty heated but you disappeared with her before I could get over there.”

“Well,” you sigh, and Jackie lays back in her bed with a loud groan. You ignore her. “You know how we were having sex, right? Turns out we were both in love with each other. But I thought she was just kinda leading me on and I felt like shit, so now I’m like… taking space, I guess.”

“But you’re both in love with each other?” He frowns.

“Not the point. I need to love myself.”

“Sure,” he mumbles. “We are throwing another one this Friday too. We forgot it was the chapters birthday on Friday, or else we wouldn’t have thrown the last one.” He glances at you with a smirk. “Wanna make sure Dani’s there and then pole dance?”

You laugh.

“Sure!”

“Wait, for real?” You roll your eyes at his serious face.

Jackie throws a pillow at him.

“Obviously not, Matty. God, men are so stupid sometimes.”

“Damn, okay. Will you post again, Jacks?”

“Of course,” she smiles. “And Y/N- I think a distraction could be good for you. A one night stand, you know? Either to forget about her or make you realize that you’re meant to be with Dani. I prefer the second option.”

She smiles.

You glare back.

“Whatever. We’ll be there.”

—-

You: hey I still have your hoodie

Dani: keep it

You: Idk if that’s a good idea

Dani: keep it anyways

Dani: I’m not giving up on us

“Okay, so,” Jackie starts, looking up from your phone. “First of all, oh my god that is so hot. Second of all, I don’t think you should say anything else. Leave her wanting more, you know?”

You sigh, taking the phone back from her and looking at the text chain. Not only did she infuriatingly text back 10 seconds after you texted her, like she was just sitting around waiting for you to talk to her again, but her chasing you did feel… kinda good.

You understood why Dani did like a little bit of a cat and mouse game. It feels good to be wanted.

—-

This outfit feels like you’ve accidentally played another game of strip poker, and every time you lost, you had to take a pair of scissors to these tiny shorts and purple top marked with cut outs, showing so much skin you feel like you should pray just for wearing it.

You hug the wall. You’re not drunk enough to feel confident yet, and Dani will probably be here, and you think about her more than you should for someone who just walked away from her.

Jackie finally comes back, handing you two shots.

“Hey!” She scolds, watching you try to pull up and down on your outfit simultaneously. “Stop that. Now drink and be fun again.”

You sigh.

“I probably shouldn’t be using alcohol as a confidence booster.”

“No, probably not.”

You scan the party. Still no sign of Dani or any of her friends.

“You’re looking for her,” Jackie teases. “I can tell.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, hiding behind the now empty shot glass.

“Did you, like, want her to prove that she loves you?”

You toy around with the idea. “Maybe? Is that bad? That I don’t even know why I’m doing this?”

“No, because I know.”

You look towards her with a smile, but her face is serious.

“You’re overthinking it. You were sad when you were with Dani because you thought she would never choose you. Then she chose you, you got scared, but you want her back.”

She leans in closer.

“You need to get out of your head and let her prove that she loves you.”

“Jackie,” you groan, too overwhelmed.

But you know she’s right. You keep staring into the crowd, hoping she’ll pop up again. Remembering how good it felt to know that she wanted you until that self-sabotaging sadness and anger took over. Remembering the way she kissed you. The way she grabbed you. The way she said she wanted to take you off of that chair.

Jackie slaps your ass.

“Come on, girl! You look sexy! Go dance, and I’m sure as soon as she walks in she’ll be sliding all up on you.”

The alcohol is slowly starting to make you feel a little looser…

“I’m not going alone.”

Jackie grabs your hand.

—-

The dance floor is decidedly unsexy. There are green strobe lights making everything look kinda sickly, it’s hot, you’re sweating, and you’re surrounded by a bunch of hot and sweaty people.

It doesn’t help that half of these frat boys are practically seven feet tall and looming over everyone else, either.

Jackie had abandoned you a while ago, but you were okay with that.

You feel good.

You feel eyes on you.

It makes you feel like you did on that chair.

And it helps that you’ve had like 10 more shots.

A body appears behind you, hot skin pressing against your exposed back- you immediately know it’s not her. You turn around only to find some random frat boy with an unbuttoned shirt grinding up on you.

He grins.

You’re drunk and lose your balance, and he immediately swoops in to steady you.

“Remember me? I’m the guy you stepped on last week.”

You do laugh at that.

“That was you? Well, thanks.” Too busy thinking about her to really look at him.

He leans forward, breath hot in your ear.

“Wanna give me a private show?”

You pull back, stomach sinking, awkward smile on your face.

“Thanks,” you start, putting your hands on his chest to slowly try to push him back, his hands remaining tight on your waist. “But no thanks.”

“Come on, you know you want too, sweetheart.”

And the only thing you can think is that it’s not in Spanish.

Suddenly his hands are pushed off of you and replaced by familiar hands, by hands that you would know anywhere, the hands that could drown you and you would still want more.

“No touching,” she says to him, a faux gasp in her scolding tone. Her fingers splay out across your hips. You can practically hear the smirk in her voice.

He looks between the two of you.

“Threesome?”

“Ew,” you automatically blurt out.

Dani hums.

“I’m not big on sharing.” Her arms wrap around you tighter. “You can go now. She’s good here.”

“Whatever,” the guy, who never even told you his name, says before ducking his head in embarrassment and disappearing into the crowd.

But you’re too focused on the way Daniela is touching you. She kisses your neck and your entire body shudders.

“Every time I see you at these parties you’re always getting someone else’s attention.”

She needs to stop whispering in your ear in that tone of voice.

“Dani,” you start, but your voice is breathy. You’re shaking in her arms. You think it’s anticipation. “What are you doing?”

“I told you. I’m not giving up. But I’ll stop if you really want me too.”

You don’t speak.

She smiles and kisses your neck again.

“That’s what I thought.”

You place your hands over hers.

“Dani.”

It’s a warning. To her. To yourself.

“Hermosa.”

You told her not to call you that. But she’s obviously testing your boundaries… and you don’t say anything again.

“I’m sorry,” you suddenly breathe.

You can feel her confusion against you.

“Wh-”

She barely gets the word out before you whip around in her arms, plant your hands on her cheeks, and slam your lips onto hers.

She kisses you back immediately, her hands running up and down your sides like she’s trying to touch as much of you as possible. Like her hands are covered in paint, and the more of you she touches the more that everyone can see you’re hers.

That you never stopped being hers.

Both of you are hungry and the kiss is just as messy as the last one, except this one is so much sweeter because you both know you won’t ever go back to what this last week has been again. You’ll never let her go again. She’ll never let you go again.

She starts kissing your cheek, moving down to your jaw, your neck, mumbling something.

“Espléndida,” she keeps repeating. “Beautiful, hermosa, you’re so beautiful, so beautiful…”

“Dani,” you say, staring into the green strobe light across the room and letting the dots burn across your vision. You would be okay with going blind if she was the last thing you got to see.

She bites down hard on your neck. You gasp but pull her closer, your hands tangling in her curls.

“I want you to be mine,” she says against your skin, kissing the red mark she just made. “Please be mine.”

It hits you.

She’s begging for you.

Daniela has never begged for anyone in her life. Not Daniela, perfect Daniela either her perfect hair and outfits and mouth. With her perfect words and the way she speaks Spanish when she’s losing herself in you.

There are people all around you. You can barely hear her over this loud uptick in the music, and she’s whispering into your ear that she wants you, all she wants is you, her hand curling around the base of your neck.

Another hickey slowly forming.

Someone taps your shoulder.

“What?” You mumble.

“Um, guys,” the voice says, slightly sheepish.

Dani lifts her head from your neck, cheeks flushed with… jealousy?

“Can you not?” She immediately hisses without even seeing who it is.

Megan and Lara stand in front of you.

Megan is at least trying to hide her laugh. Lara is just doubled over hysterically crying.

“I don’t know if you guys noticed.,, but a lot of people are looking at you and you’re basically fucking in front of everyone.”

You finally glance around, nameless faces immediately turning away and staring at anything else.

“Um…” you start, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“We’re clearly busy,” Dani answers for you.

“Okay, damn, Miss Possessive,” Lara laughs, holding her hands up in mock defense. “Nobody is gonna take her from you.”

Dani hasn’t moved her hands from your neck and your waist.

“Just leave us alone,” she groans, throwing her head back, voice slightly whiny. “Seriously, guys.”

“All I’m saying is your car is literally parked outside,” Megan shrugs.

Dani blinks. Grabs your hand.

“We’re leaving.”

Lara stops you, putting her hand on your shoulder.

“Wait, Y/N. Do you feel safe?”

You burst out laughing.

Dani tugs you closer to her.

“Shut up, Lara!”

Her cheeks are red as she drags you through the party, ignoring your laughter, she only stops to let you snatch a mostly empty bottle of vodka you insist on grabbing… sensing you may need some liquid courage to get through this conversation.

But you hope there isn’t a lot of talking.

Dani’s red Mustang is parked a little ways down the street, and you don’t talk the entire way there. You’re trying to hide the bottle of vodka in your jacket, and she’s intently holding onto your hand.

The sun is setting. The sky is painted dark purple and pink.

The car is eerily quiet. It’s definitely different in the light. Without the anonymity of the dark, you feel as exposed as you did during the game. But the way her gaze lands on you- she makes you feel held and loved even when the console of the car separates you.

She makes you feel as heady as you did performing for all those people.

You bring the bottle to your lips and choke down a disgusting sip before handing it to Dani. She does the same.

“Dani,” you start, but your breath hitches when she reaches over and puts a hand on your thigh. Like it’s casual. Like it’s meant to be there.

“Yeah?”

You take a breath. You have to say this now, because everything about her makes you want to climb over and kiss her. Hard.

“I’m sorry.”

She frowns.

“Why? You don’t have to be sorry, baby.”

“Dani-”

“Wait,” she stops you, squeezing your thigh so you look at her instead of your hands. “Can I say something?”

You can’t stop looking into her eyes. Her entire face is full of real, earnest honesty.

You nod.

“You… told me that you felt like you weren’t good enough for me.”

She pauses. Your heart sinks, but you nod again.

“So it’s my fault. I should have showed you I loved you better.”

“No,” you sigh, looking away again. “You didn’t do anything. No- I mean- you did everything right. It was all me being stupid. I was just…” it takes you a second to say the word. “Insecure. Really insecure. And then I got scared when it got real. But I love you, Dani. And I’m sorry I ran away.”

She grabs your chin, softly angling your face toward her. She’s smiling.

“You came back. That’s all I care about.”

“I did.”

You smile.

You lean forward to kiss her, but she leans back, biting her lip.

“I’m not gonna kiss you, baby. Not until you say it.”

“Say what?” You ask.

The way she tucks your hair behind your ear. The way she makes you feel. The way she holds you. The way she kisses you. The way she’s so kind, so smart, so talented. The way she’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of.

“That you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Dani,” you breathe, watching as that feline look crawls its way home onto her face.

“Yeah?”

“I’m yours, Daniela Avanzini.”

Her lips part, corners of her mouth still curled up, and she leans forward achingly slow- then stops.

“Hermosa, I spent a week without you and went crazy.” Her hand moves higher, toying with the end of your jean shorts. “We’re going to need some rules.”

“Rules?” You smile. “Maybe I don’t feel safe.”

She squeezes your thigh like a warning.

“I think you like me like this.”

You don’t respond, and that’s answer enough.

“First of all, clothes like this are for me only.”

She kisses your jaw, lips lingering there.

She’s right. You do like her like this.

“Second, you need to talk to me. I don’t want you to ever feel like that again, baby. You’re mine and I’m yours. I’m not going away.”

You nod. “I will, Dani.”

The way she cares about you makes her even sexier.

“And please, for the love of God, Y/N, don’t ever play a stripping game again.”

You laugh together, leaning forward until your foreheads are touching.

The kiss is sweet and soft. It’s not rough or angry, or charged with insane amounts of desire. It’s the kind of kiss that you don’t have to think about, because you know you’re gonna do it again and again.

She pulls back with a smile before reaching next to her and pulling her seat all the way down until she’s lying flat.

Her cropped shirt leaves her stomach exposed, and you have to tear your eyes away from her.

She pats her thighs.

“Sit, baby.”

You make your way over the console, heart continuing to beat faster and faster until you’re straddling her, her hand resting comfortably on your ass.

She grabs the vodka and hands it to you.

You can feel her watching the column of your throat as you swallow, a drip of liquid trailing down your lips and chin in your haste to get the burning stuff down your throat.

She tucks your hair behind your ear again and this time- she lets her fingers linger. Openly.

She sits up, her tongue darting out onto your sweaty skin, lapping up the trail of vodka until she reaches your lips, leaving one final chaste kiss there.

She grins. She’s like a cat. But she’s yours.

“I think your girlfriend should get one of your infamous shows. Right, mi hermosa?”

“Of course, baby.”

You smile, reaching down to slowly undo the buttons of your shorts.

—-

[musingsofheaven]

ALL MAKES SENSE

summary: The obsession of other interns had with him never made sense. Not until one night… drinks turned into something more. It’s so good that it makes all those promises to never be one of the girls giggling over Clark Kent feel ridiculous. But now it makes sense. God, now it does.

pairings: intern!clark kent x afab intern!reader

warnings: 3.5k words. mature themes. unprotected p in v. intoxicated sex. (light) praise kink. size difference kink (light). internal ejaculation. clothed sex. cockwarming (implied). biting / marking. read responsibly.

note: i said i wasn’t gonna write bc i have too many wips and drafts piling up… haha god help me. but i literally couldn’t resist him. this was just a quick write. hope u guys enjoy it <3

You don’t get it, at first. The way the other interns practically light up when he walks in. They act like he’s the most handsome inside the building. Sure, maybe he is. But you hate the way they clutch their iced coffees, and giggle when he holds the door open with that shy, lopsided smile. It looks like they’re desperate for it. Or maybe you are just bitter. Or maybe you are trying to find red flags in him. Don’t also forget that when someone calls him “cute” and they think he can’t hear. But you think he does and just acts innocent and oblivious which made you shrug and roll your eyes every time that happens. Ignore, ignore, and ignore before going back to your drink and to scrolling on your phone. Because, yeah, he’s handsome, tall, shoulders a little too broad for the cheap shirts he wears, but he’s also corny as hell. Makes those terrible little jokes that hang in the air like a bad pun smell. And you notice how he glances around like he’s waiting for someone to laugh, and scratches the back of his neck when no one does. But that rarely happens because the girls always laugh at his jokes like they can let it pass since he’s handsome, cute, kind, tall, smart, and- whatever.

You don’t get it, because you’ve seen him spill coffee down the front of his shirt. The cheap button-down soaked with a stain he tries to clean it with crumpled napkins while his cheeks flushed pink like he’s waiting for the floor to swallow him up. You feel a little bad for him though especially when his glasses keep slipping down his nose as he leans over the counter before muttering under his breath, “It’s fine, happens all the time,” and just laughs it off but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You’ve watched him tug the fabric away from his chest before shaking it out a little and his hair falling across his forehead in that messy, boyish way, like he’s fighting a losing battle against the universe before it’s even eight in the morning. Okay, maybe that’s cute.

You don’t get it, until one Friday when everyone goes out for drinks. You don’t want to come but your office friend won’t take no for an answer so you just agreed to go to the cheap dive a block away with sticky floors and neon lights buzzing in the corner. You end up sitting next to him, not on purpose. It’s just the last open seat, and he offers to buy you a drink because he’s nice like that. Of course, it’s hard to deny free drinks especially after when you heard him blurt out something stupid about the weather. You find yourself laughing, actually laughing, and he looks at you like you’ve given him something he’s been waiting for all week.

You don’t get it, until you’re tipsy, and cheeks warm. Until you’re leaning into the space between you and closing the distance. Until he’s looking at you with those soft eyes, lashes so stupidly long, and asking if you want to keep talking somewhere quieter. You say yes, before you can think too hard about it because he managed to work his charms on you. Let's bring you to his place and let him hold the door open for you one more time, let him smile at you like you’re the only person in the world.

You don’t get it, until you do because because now you’re here. You’re on his couch with your knees pulled up and shoes off. You don’t even know where you left them because you’re tipsy enough that your limbs feel warm and slow but not enough to forget the way he looked at you while he keeps talking and listens when you respond to him. His apartment is enough, it looks domestic and it’s very Clark.

He’s sitting across from you, elbow hooked over the back of the couch. His shirt sleeves rolled to his forearms that showing the muscles that had been hiding underneath fabric, glasses still on, and hair messy from running a hand through it too many times tonight. He’s talking about something he couldn’t forget. It’s a story about how he once missed a bus because he stopped to help an elderly woman to find her lost pet. You just stare at him when he’s talking and how he shakes his head before laughing at himself like it’s something to be embarrassed about. Like he overthinks you might think he’s stupid for it. You don’t. It’s kind. It’s heartwarming to hear. You don’t think what he did is stupid.

Eyes remain looking at you while he talks. Not just… performative. He’s really looking, eyes bright, leaning forward when he says your name. Like he can’t help it. Like he needs to see how you’ll react. Like it, he enjoys how it rolls off his tongue. You think about all the times you rolled your eyes when the other interns giggled over him. The times you swore you’d never be that person. Now? You feel it, something small and warm in your chest, and something you don’t want to name yet.

But it blooms in your system as your head falls back against the couch. You laugh and tell him he’s such a dork and stupid. You don’t mean it in an insulting way, but more on like just teasing him and you are glad he just smiles. It’s wide and a little crooked. It’s obvious he’s hiding how your words made him smile like that. Everything feels so good right now, there’s even a music playing from his phone speaker. You wonder what his playlists look like because what’s playing right now is soothing and calm. It makes the room feel better and softer. Your legs and his are almost touching. You don’t even notice how the space feels smaller from the moment you sit there earlier.

And he goes quiet for a moment after talking continuously ever since you entered his place. His eyes try not to stare at you when he also tries to memorize this moment. The way your mouth smirks when you tease him about his jokes. The way you look at him when you feel yourself getting more into the conversation. His mouth opened like he was going to ask you something but he just shut it because nothing came out. So he just swallows and your eyes watch how his Adam’s apple bobs. He doesn’t know it but you also notice how his hands twitch on his knee like he’s thinking about something.

You know what he wants to ask. It’s not hard to guess what it is. You are also not dumb not to see it. It’s already written across his face. He thinks he’s slick when he keeps flickering to look at your lips. Going back to look up at your eyes and back down to your lips. You know he’s the kind of guy who won’t just do something unless you tell him to do it or you will just have to initiate it.

So you initiate it. You lean in and close the distance between the two of you. Your hand latches to his cheek with your thumb caressing the shape and sharpness of his jaw before you kiss him. It’s soft and you can taste the cheap beer you both drank earlier. You could feel the warmth of his mouth and it’s something you’ve been trying to hate and deny since the first moment you saw him smiling and waving his hand at you.

Now you get it. You get it because he’s been gentle from the kiss to this moment. He’s soft and touching you like glass, letting you take what you want while still holding you steady. He keeps you close with those big, and warm hands like he’s scared you’ll slip away if he lets go. His hands are warm and firm, but not hurting you. It’s just enough to feel he’s here.

Your blouse is open and hanging off your shoulders. Bra pushed down so your tits are out as your nipples brush against the fabric as you move. He was so gentle when he opened you up, even though it’s not really completely naked, but that’s all what he could manage with the impatience he had to be inside you. His shirt is open too, same as you with how his buttons are undone, sleeves rolled, and exposing the slope of his chest. You can also see the way his stomach flexes every time you roll your hips down on him. You’re still wearing your skirt. It’s just bunched up around your waist, and his pants are still on, pulled down just enough so he can free his cock, thick and flushed where it’s buried inside your cunt. His size really stretched you open with every slow, needy rock of your hips.

Hands rest on his shoulders while nails dig in the fabric while you find the right pace and angle for the both of you. Each drag of your hips earns a slicked sound from your pussy and you swear he groans every time it gets so loud and it makes him drag you down deeper to take the whole of him. There’s the friction sending electricity through your every time the tip of his cock presses and kissing against the spot inside you that makes your lips taste like metal from biting it just to keep yourself from being so loud.

“Fuck- baby-” he breathes out. His voice is low and desperate. It sounds so fucking pretty falling from his lips. You love the way he sounds. The way it stutters and the way he’s vocal about it. His hands grip your hips, not forcing you, but guiding you. Soft thumbs pressing bruises into your skin as he helps you lift up and sink back down. Helps you ride him like you’ve both been craving this since the first moment you kissed. He helps you because that’s what he always does. Be there for people and be soft to them. The difference is that what he’s doing right now is not because of some service or act of kindness, he’s doing it because he wants you to enjoy it.

Chest brushes against his with sweat sticking to skin both of your skins and you can feel the way his breath stutters when your nipples graze across his when you lean in closer. Forehead pressing to his, and noses bumping before your lips brush against just but not quite kissing. “Clark-” you whisper just to see how he reacts. It’s so hot when he moans after you say his name. It’s soft and broken that makes your pussy clench around him and makes him jerk up into you without meaning to. His cock is twitching inside your cunt as he tries to hold back.

“God, you feel- you feel so good,” he pants, eyes fluttering shut, lashes dark and damp against his cheeks. “So fucking tight around me, goddamn-” Hips just rocking and bouncing down harder when you hear his words, it’s like a compliment hearing that so you grind against him. Your movements made his mouth fall open before a ragged sound snatched out of his throat. His head tips back against the backrest of the couch and the sight below you is so hot. Him being pussy whipped, hands on your sides, and the way his cock disappears when you sink your body into him.

Your hands slide up into his hair to tug lightly, and his eyes snap open. It’s glassy and blown wide, looking up at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. His hands flex on your hips, and you feel it when he bucks up into you, the angle hitting that spot that makes you gasp, makes your thighs tremble around him. “Please- fuck, please, baby,” he mumbles, not even sure what he’s asking for, but you understand. You feel it too. The desperation. The heat builds between your bodies. The wet slap of your pussy taking him over and over as you ride him slow and deep. Letting him fill you up. Letting him feel how warm and wet you are around his cock.

And you don’t want to come yet. There’s something in you that doesn't want this to stop. Something that wants to stay here at this moment. You don’t know if that’s the sex making you feel that way but you think he wants that too. Especially with the way he twitches when your pussy clenches around you. The way he moans when you wrap your hands around his hair to tug it. How he gets closer to make sure your body pressed so close when the sweat drips down to your chest. Breath mingling as you fuck yourself down on him, slow and steady, over and over. You want to remember how it feels when his hands slide up your back. How does it feel when he’s holding you tighter. When he whimpers against your mouth before kissing you like he can’t help it. How his tongue slides against yours. How he swallows your moans as you move together.

Now you get it. Now you get why everyone looks at him like that. Because right now you’re looking at him like this. Like you are asking him why you don’t want to stop. But you already know the answer. You don’t want to. Not when it feels so good. Not when he’s hitting it so deep. Not when it’s so thick inside your pussy. It drags against your walls with every slow, desperate grind of your hips, and every bounce that has your thighs shaking. Your cunt keeps sucking him back in, wet and hot with slick dripping down onto his pelvis where your bodies meet.

He’s still wearing his glasses. God, he’s still wearing his fucking glasses, and you don’t know why it makes you moan, but it does. Something about how they’re slightly crooked on his nose, how they fog up when his breath stutters, how they press cold against your neck when he leans forward and kisses you there, mouth hot and open, tongue dragging over your skin before he bites down softly. “Clark,” you gasp. Nails raking down his chest, over the open edges of his shirt, as you try to ground yourself, try to hold on when his hips jerk up into you. It hit that spot that makes your eyes roll back, makes your cunt clench around him, and makes him let out a low, broken groan against your throat.

“Fuck, you feel- you feel so good, can’t- can’t believe how good you feel,” he babbles. His voice was wrecked. Kissing up your neck, sucking a mark just under your jaw before pulling back to look at you. His eyes are glassy behind those fogged lenses, lips pink and swollen. You whimper while your hips stutter. Your pussy tightens around him when you see how he looks at you, like he’s falling apart, like you’re the only thing keeping him together. “Take them off,” you whisper. Fingers sliding up, hooking around the arms of his glasses, pushing them off his face as he blinks up at you. His pupils are blown so wide there’s barely any blue left.

You toss them to the side, somewhere on the couch, and cradle his face in your hands. Your thumbs brushing over his cheeks. “There,” you breathe, “wanted to see you.” He moans a soft, choked sound. Hands gripping your hips tighter, and guiding you down onto his cock. Helping you grind deeper, slower, rolling his hips up to meet you. The wet sounds of your pussy swallowing him fill the room, until the head of his cock drags right against your cervix, over and over, until you can’t hold back the sounds spilling from your mouth.

You’re so close you almost can taste it. Heat feels so tight in your belly. Legs trembling and shiver shooting down your spine with every thrust, every grind, every time his cock hits that spot that makes your vision blur. That makes your body shake above him. Your thighs are burning. Your breath is coming out in broken moans. Your forehead pressed to his, sweat dripping down your temple as you keep moving, chasing the edge, chasing that high, and wanting to come so badly it hurts.

“Please- fuck, please,” he gasps, and you don’t even know what he’s begging for, but it doesn’t matter, because you’re begging too, whimpering against his lips, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop-” And he won’t. He won’t stop because he lets you control everything tonight. He won’t let you fall off his lap. He won’t let you slip away. He just won’t, not when your pussy is tighter than anyone he fucked before, not when your pussy is squeezing and sucking him so tight. He’s going crazy under you and his hips are thrusting up into you. His hands pull you more down before guiding you up.

You’re right there, right on the edge. Your teeth can feel your orgasm already high and it feels like it’s going to break you both. Body shaking, nails scratching his visible skin while your pussy gushes down in his cock. Doesn’t care even if both of you are soaking the fabric of your skirt and his pants which are pulled down to around his thighs. It makes everything so messy. Skin slapping and wetness fill the room. So fucking perfect.

Now you get it. You get it when it happens- when it finally happens- when the pressure building between your hips snaps, when the pleasure spills over, hot and blinding. Tearing a sob from your throat as your cunt clenches down around his cock, so tight and wet that his breath catches, that his eyes roll back as he moans your name like a prayer. You get it when you see the way he looks at you while you fall apart, the way his hands grip your hips so hard it borders on bruising. He’s pulling you down onto him, grinding you against him as he fucks up into you, chasing your high, helping you ride it out, helping you take everything you need.

“Fuck, Clark- shit, I’m coming-” you gasp, your head falling back, your hands scrambling for something to hold onto, finding the fabric of his open shirt, finding the soft hair on his chest, clutching it as your body shudders, as your thighs clamp around his waist, as your pussy milks his cock in desperate, pulsing waves. “God- baby, I-” he stutters, his hips jerking up, his eyes fluttering shut, his jaw going slack as he feels you coming around him, as he feels how wet you are, how warm you are, how perfect you are like this, taking him, taking all of him.

“Want you to come,” you whimper, leaning forward, pressing your forehead to his, your lips brushing against his as you breathe him in, as you move your hips in slow, rolling circles that make your overstimulated pussy spasm around him, that make him choke on a groan. “Want you to come inside me, please-” That’s what breaks him.

Mouth finds its way to yours and he starts swallowing the sounds you are making. Kissing you hard that it became messy with both of your teeth grinding together and tongues sliding while his hips stutter because his cock twitches inside your wet cunt. And then he spills and cum inside of you with a guttural and desperate moan that you feel vibrates against your lips.

You love the feeling of the warm cum that released and flooded deep inside your pussy and you absolutely love that he keeps thrusting to stuff it more inside. He’s fucking you through it. He chases every wave of pressure and drags out your orgasm until it’s almost too much. Until you’re shaking in his lap, and whimpering into his mouth with tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from how good it feels.

You’re so full and pussy is so wet because of his cum leaking out around his cock. It drips down to his pelvis and stomach which makes everything so slick and messy. It feels sticky and the sight is obscene. The room is filled with mixed sounds from both of your breaths, the wet and slick slide of your bodies, and the soft and broken whimpers the two of you let out when you slowly come down from the high.

And you just stay in the same place with your forehead resting against his and your lips brushing against his at the same time. Chests heaving when you try to catch your breath and you feel the aftershocks from the orgasm still pulsing through your pussy. You feel it still fluttering and clenching around his softening cock inside you.

Now you get it. You get why he’s worth the giggles, the stares, the soft smiles in hallways, the stupid little crushes. Because he’s gentle. Because he’s kind. Because he looks at you like you’re the only person in the world, even now, when you’re messy and fucked-out in his lap, your skirt bunched around your waist, his cum dripping out of your cunt, your hair sticking to your sweaty skin, your mouth swollen from kissing him too hard.

You get it.

⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀twenty-twenty-five © addie / musingsofheaven.

⠀⠀⠀

[girllblogging777]

THINKING ABOUT spencer reid on your birthday

౨ৎ⋆˚࿔ headcanons (in honour of my bday !!!)

spencer reid who has had your birthdate memorised since the moment he met you

spencer reid who knows it all, down to the minute and the exact place you were born in, he could recite your birth chart by heart in his sleep

spencer reid whose eidetic memory makes him remember everyone’s special dates. but he’d be so scared of forgetting yours, or missing it, that he’d probably have it circled on his calendar

spencer reid who, as your coworker in the BAU, wouldn’t make a big deal out of it like the others did. instead of annoying you with the birthday song all day, he’d do something meaningful

spencer reid who would probably bring you your favourite coffee, along with a pastry he know you like. he’d quietly slip a note on your desk, maybe even a book he annotated just for you

spencer reid who, as your boyfriend, would make sure your birthday goes absolutely perfectly. nothing could possibly go wrong, not on his watch

spencer reid who would plan it all. he’d wake up earlier than you, reluctantly untangling himself from your warm body to attempt making breakfast

spencer reid who would insist on giving you the princess - no, the absolute queen treatment for the whole day. it’s not exactly as if that wasn’t the case every other day. but he would make sure you don’t have to lift a finger

spencer reid who, if you like parties and celebrations, would invite all of your loved ones and decorate your shared apartment for the occasion. he’s not exactly a social butterfly, but making calls suddenly becomes his thing if needed

spencer reid who, on the other hand, wouldn’t pressure you if he knew you weren’t a fan of birthdays. he’d insist on staying inside to relax and cuddle, taking a day off without second thoughts just to stay by your side

spencer reid who just wouldn’t want you to feel bad on this day. he knows birthdays can make you feel quite emotional, and he’d gladly over you his shoulder (and affection) if you happened to cry

spencer reid who would make you feel loved. not just on your birthday, but on everyday you spent with him

[vrystalius]

Hey, hun! Ya girl is on her period and it feels like I'm getting scraped out by a melon-baller that had a few too many run-ins with a garbage disposal blade! It got me thinking though... What if Reader and Shinobu were sick and tired of Sanemi, Obanai, and Inosuke downplaying how bad periods are and getting after some the female Demon Slayers (including S/O or Crush reader) for "faking it so they can be lazy" when they decide they don't want to train on a day when it's particularly bad or for being overly emotional. So, the girls manage to make something (Poison, potion, whatever you wanna call it), that causes them to not only get cramps that feel the same (think about those "period cramp simulator" videos), but some of the other symptoms of a period as well, so that they can see what it's really like out here for us! Could last anywhere from a day to a full week.

Thank you in advance!

Period Cramp Simulator.

You forced them to undergo a period cramp simulator to showcase just how bad the pain can get.

Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Gyomei, Giyuu, Obanai x fem!reader

Genre: Crack, fluff

Note: This was perfect your brain is so big anon

Sanemi Shinazugawa // Wind Hashira

He was the worst out of all of them. Despite knowing about period cramps and how bad those can get, Sanemi tells all his apprentices to suck it up or go to Shinobu to ask for pain medication. As he heard, period cramps and pains get better when you exercise anyway. You were done with his talking.

With the help of Shinobu, you managed to make solvent that manages to mimic period pains and cramps, including the cravings and mood changes that come with it. A simulation of a fraction of the menstrual cycle.

Sanemi refused to take it at first, thinking you’re either making fun of him or because he was too scared to, but eventually submitted.

You ended up with a curled up ball of a crying Sanemi by your feet.

He was cramping, hungry, nauseous and angry all at the same time. It was extremely overwhelming for him and he shut his mouth immediately after the first wave of abdomen pain hit him, before that Sanemi was boasting and predicting that he was going to be perfectly fine.

After the nausea subsided slightly and he thought he was now going to be fine, Sanemi had to curl his whole body into a ball as he doubled over, holding onto his stomach tightly. He could swear the flesh walls inside his bodies were peeling and now bleeding out of his nether regions— which they didn’t, but it sure felt like it.

Out of the goodness and graciousness of your heart, but also thanks to all the times Sanemi actually tended to you during your periods by feeding you chocolate and rewarming your heating-pillow, you began to provide for him. A hot, heating-pad propped onto his stomach and plenty of ohagi to feed an entire village (or Kyojuro’s appetite) was served to him while Sanemi clung onto your arm, begging you not to leave him alone like this.

In a way, you ended up being his heated body pillow. His legs were tangled around your waist, his arms wrapped around your shoulders while he munched on his ohagi. He wasn’t at upset as before, but still pretty stingy that you managed to convince him to go through this.

It’s safe to say that he is now leaning towards giving his tsugoku(s) a day or two off when they complain about periods, but he gets a little confused when all of the sudden half his roster gets periods. Just wait until he hears about how women’s periods can sync with each other over time.

“What— What do you mean? Shinobu has it too? AND Mitsuri? What the hell?!”

—

Kyojuro Rengoku // Flame Hashira

This poor man didn’t even know that a whole menstrual cycle takes 30-31 days. Kyojuro is blissfully unaware of how painful periods actually are.

He does take care of you during your periods, happily so, but in the back of his mind Kyojuro thinks you may be overexaggerating a little about the pain. To show that you aren’t and that you may be underexaggerating in some parts, Shinobu gave you a special solvent to feed him.

Curious himself about what it’s like to have a period and how it feels to bleed your life essence through your nether regions, Kyojuro happily consumed it.

He was fine at first, only light cramps and pains here and there, but then it hit him like a wooden club to his stomach. He was holding onto your arm like a lifeline as nausea, headaches and stomach cramps hit him all at once, as well as for some reason his chest felt incredibly sore. Not even you thought his chest was big enough to qualify for soreness but here we are.

You were dragged into your shared bed as Kyojuro rolled up into a blanket burrito, refusing to leave the warm cave he build for any reason other to use the bathroom. He made some puppy eyes as he asked you to get him a tasty snack or a heating pad, only to watch him devour the meal in less than a minute and stuffing the pad down the little space between him and the bundled up blankets.

He wasn’t really moody, just that Kyojuro was much more prone to bursting out in tears about the smallest inchonvieneces or when you get a little too affectionate and he keeps thinking about the future when either of you are dead or gone and the other has to live without the second half of their soul. You spend the better half of the day trying to calm and reassure your hubby about everything.

Taking out of this, Kyojuro learned that you are, in a way, reasonable when you have mood swings. Your body is purging out blood from your uterus in a very painful way, so he won’t bat his eyes again whenever you ask him to change the heating pad again, or to please to go out and buy that one specific snack you want and then tear up when he brought the wrong flavour or type.

Also, he is very willing to become your life-size heating bodypillow.

“I can head out and get us some food. We can get the usual and dessert and I could get some ice cream, maybe some extra sweet potatoes…” (You tuned his rambling about what to eat tonight out.)

—

Gyomei Himejima // Stone Hashira

He was well aware and educated on what goes on in the body of a woman during the different stages of the menstrual cycle, and he knows how painful cramps can get and all about the hormonal changes. You’re not sure where he got the knowledge from but you are nonetheless appreciative of his caretaking.

Gyomei is incredibly sweet and caring the whole time throughout those times, so it never really occurred to you to make him experience the punishment of gods pain you experience every month. It was his idea, actually.

In order to become more tolerant towards pain and to push on through to continue the fight against a powerful demon, Gyomei usually just trains under extreme circumstances and sustains himself by praying and crying, but for some reason he’d like to experience the pain of womanhood as well.

After handing off the solvent to him and drinking it in one go, there was no reaction. You watched as Gyomei sat down on the engawa of your estate and shift into his meditative position, still no apparent reaction or sound.

The first hour passed and you noticed how Gyomei still hasn’t moved. He was just sitting there in silence, crying harder than usual.

This went on for the whole day as he probably experienced the wonderful feeling of being emotionally overwhelmed, physically at your limit, all while chanting the matra and trying to meditate through it. He even refused your offer to bring him a water-heated pad for his stomach, or really anything at all.

In the end, the only thing Gyomei gained is a new appreciation for your experience, and also respect for other female slayers an hashira who still manage to function normally, even during these painful times.

“It is a gift to experience such a wonder myself. Thank you.”

—

Giyuu Tomioka // Water Hashira

He always had the feeling you were being a little overdramatic about your situation. Many other women before you went through the same thing so why are you being so extra about it?

You were obviously endlessly infuriated with him and he was briefly banned to the livingroom and sleeping on a separate futon, away from you. After talking to Shinobu about it, she handed over some mixture you can feed him as retaliation. You mixed it under his food as revenge.

Giyuu didn’t understand what was happening first— he felt like it was both too hot and too cold at the same time, how everything was irritating him and why he had the feeling of someone stabbing his butt with a knife in the most painful way? And where on the world are those cramps coming from?

You felt a little bad for him and what you’re doing to him, so after revealing what you’ve done to him, Giyuu holed himself up in the bedroom and took the day off. His emotions were a mess and he was overwhelmed with them, so he sat down and remained mostly silent while you piled more and more blankets on top of him to keep him warm.

He was extremely cuddly, despite being upset with you, Giyuu clung onto you like a koala. His legs were trapping your waist and the blankets you gave him earlier wrapping around you two. You were imprisoned and will serve your penance to him.

He never ever spoke a single word about you being on your period and needing some extra attention and being a little moody at times. Giyuu felt the horrors— he respects you for being able to function so normally despite everything.

“Never do that again. Ever. I beg you.”

—

Obanai Iguro // Serpant Hashira

He always was rather respectful about it and wanted to know what it feels like out of pure curiosity.

It was a mistake on his part, he rolled around on the floor in agony and groaned against the tatami mats below him as Kaburamaru worriedly rolled together beside him, its tongue flicking out to taste the air around it, finding only pain and despair radiating from Obanai.

He has a rather low tolerance to begin with so you really had no idea why he even asked for this.

Obanai was face-down on the bathroom floor for the rest of the day, trying to absorb the coolness of the floor beneath him. Kaburamaru was given into your responsibility and stayed on your neck the whole rest of the day while his owner was shaking and whining on the floor.

He deflated like a balloon and you briefly thought that he passed away because of the pain, but poking his cheek and Obanai reacting with trying to bite your finger off in anger reminded you that he is only living out of spite now.

His short body was now full of anger and frustration and he was not afraid to voice it, cursing you, himself, Shinobu, the gods and whoever else who was remotely responsible for the situation he put himself in.

In the future, Obanai eyes you nervously whenever you tell him you are on your period. He felt the same pain as you and now tries his very best to make it as bearable as possible.

Kaburamaru in a way learned from this as well, now curling up on top of your heating pad to show emotional support. Or it maybe just learned that heating pad means warmth and pets.

“Why is Kaburamaru with you again? I put the snake into the enclosure— how…?”

—

💠

Author’s note. Thank you for reading!

I wrote this over the course of my lessons today soo.. enjoy XD Also, this has been sitting in my inbox since FOREVER and I always wanted to write about/for it and only managed to do it today and now. I hope y’all enjoyed it <33

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3

[ickytreats]

Going out to the movies with big brother but suddenly really needing to pee. I gotta go to the bathroom... I say while standing next to him grabbing his arm. Are you serious? We just got here...wait until I buy our snacks. He gets me the biggest slushy in my favorite flavor and even extra water.

Walking by the bathroom and it's closed. Oh no... You're going to have to wait for the movie to end. He looks down at you, but there has to be another- yeah but on the other side of the building. He pulls me into the theater room not giving me the second choice. You don't wanna miss it, do you? You've been bugging me to see it. We find our seats and sit okay.. I smile and kiss his cheek.

Halfway into the movie I hadn't noticed he kept feeding me to keep drinking. I start to squirm as I finally realize I really need to pee now. Big bro can I please pass by really quick? I'll be back I just- no. He cuts my whispers off, you wanted to watch this movie so you stay and watch it. But I really need to pee, too bad now hold it. He wraps the blanket that he brought with us around me and pulls me close. Then I feel it, he pushes on my bladder and I squeak shaking my head. S-stop that please I gasp squirming and grabbing his wrist.

He wraps his other arm around me to anyone it just looks like we are cuddling. Shhh, we are watching movie little sis. He pushes on my bladder again making me whimper. Keep enjoying your drink, he looks down at me waiting for me to take another sip. I shake my head, he nods and I listen to him. I sip my slushy Good little girl, he whispers into my ear. As the movie keeps going I can't stop squirming or gripping my seat whenever he pushes on my bladder.

Then he does it, he pushes his hand into my pants making me gasp. Big bro- you need to lower your voice. This is a public movie theater little sis, he whispers with a smirk as we look each other in the eyes. He starts rubbing my clit with his fingers while still putting pressure on my bladder with his palm. You're such a meanie... I whimper and squirm he pretends like it's nothing. My legs clamp around his hand as I try to hold. He tugs my hair with his other hand, signaling me to open them. I-if I open them I won't be able to hold it... I whimper and sniffle.

He tugs my hair again, he doesn't care. I force my own legs to open as I take deep breaths trying to hold it in. This is a mess, I'm going to be an embarrassed mess. I try to distract myself from everything by watching the movie. The most intense scene is happening and I jump suddenly. I feel myself let go for a second, he cups my cunt as I close around him again. Fuck... I curl into my big brother What was that little sis? He smiles, proud at how desperate and stressed I am.

He starts rubbing my clit again as the movie is about to end. I don't know if I should cum or pee, big bro... I grab his arm and look up, I'll be a good little sister just stop. I beg as I whimper and start to quiver, the movies almost over. You better hold it, he growls and I hide my face in his arm. I miss the end of the movie just trying to concentrate. Once the lights turn back on he pulls his hand out of my pants but not before meanly pressing down again. This time is harder than before and he laughs.

He watches as I rush to the bathroom, once I walk back out okay he grabs me. I liked the movie, especially the little show that went with it... He smiles and I glare at him. Really got me excited, he pushes his hard cock against me before leading me back to the car. I can't believe you did that to me! Well I did so believe it, you're lucky I let you pee after. He opens the back door to the car and pushes me in, I should've fucked you with a full bladder. He's gets in behind me and undoes his belt, he's not wasting time as he frees his cock. You'd look so pretty being extra squirmy as I fuck you.

He's pulling my shorts and panties down. Big bro we're in the parking lot, I say a little nervous. Who cares? He taps his cock on my clit making me jump, I feel so sensitive now. Look how wet you are, you liked that little game. He teases with a smile, before I can say something he pushes into me. I gasp and my back arches, he doesn't time his time before he's fucking into me. The car moves with each thrust and small moans leave my lips. It was so hot how desperate you got, he groaned and leaned down for a kiss.

You didn't even know you've had me hard since we left the damn house. I'll cum so quickly because of you, he says between kisses. Someone has to have noticed our car by now, I nod at him. Cum for me big brother? I giggle and moan. I- I did like the little game... He moans and throws his head back, fuck! He fucks into me harder making me dig my nails into his shoulder. Going to cum in my little sister... Make her hold my cum. He kisses me harshly as he cums in me, quickly making my orgasm follow. We pant and look at each other once he pulls away. That was a pretty normal movie... I just like dinosaurs, I say as I smile at big bro. I know, he leans down and kisses me again.

I had to write about one of the plays that I'm low-key ashamed of. But something about the power play in bladder control gets me.

Also I watched the Jurassic World Rebirth movie. It's what inspired me to write this. I do love dinosaurs and my wife Scarlett but the movie was idk how to describe it, normal? Also how TF did Johnathan Bailey's characters glasses not get lost, bent, or at least cracked through the whole thing.

[witchbitchlovesdilfs]

I don't know if you're still taking prompts but either as a standalone or part of pain relief - I would love to see the MC with a migraine and Jack taking care of her 😭❤️

Comfort

Jack Abbot x reader

warnings: language, chronic illness (migraines), medicine, hurt comfort

words: 1k

a/n: thanks so much for the request! sending love and comfort to everyone having a bad pain day.

All you can think about is the pain. You’re used to it at this point… or, you’re used to having it. Still, no longer how long you’ve had chronic migraines, this one slams into you like a train before you even open your eyes. You have blackout curtains, thankfully, so no light slips into the room as you stir, but somehow even the darkness manages to trigger the sharp, burning sensation in your eyes, behind your forehead. You groan and flop your arm out, instinctively reaching for your husband. 

He’s not there. Right, he’s got work. With your groggy, foggy eyes, you glance over at the clock on the nightstand. One hour. You have exactly sixty minutes until he’s home. 

With a heavy sigh, you snuggle your face into your pillow and whine at the pulsing pain in your head. You could take an Advil, but Jack would kill you if you took pain meds without eating first. 

With a deep breath of determination, you brace yourself and slowly lift yourself up. You cry out at the rush of agony the position sends to your head but continue to move, slipping out of bed and staggering towards the kitchen. You move your hands blindly, looking much like a madman, as you beg the blurry blackness in your vision to go away. You make out the shape of a wall and brace yourself just in time to stop from slamming into it. “Shit,” you cry out, fumbling for hold on the wall and leaning against it, panting. 

Your eyesight starts to slowly, slightly return, and you use this as an incentive to keep moving. Finally reaching the main space of the apartment, you stumble over a stack of books and fall forward, putting your hands out to cushion your fall. You hit the side of the couch and plop onto the floor, motionless for a good few minutes. There are tears in your eyes as you try to sit up, but the intensity behind your migraine only gets worse.

You stay still and wait for Jack to come home.

You barely hear the key in the lock, brain fuzzy and ears ringing as your head ever-so-slightly tilts in the direction of the door. You can make out Jack’s figure as he shuts the door behind him, setting his bag down with a sigh. It’s still early in the day, and he hasn’t noticed you yet, so he moves quietly, making his way over to the fridge and starting the coffee pot. 

“Hey handsome,” you say weakly, lips quirking when Jack jumps in the air with a curse. He turns, squinting as he tries to find you, and you manage to lift a hand in the air to signal your location.

Jack sighs and stumbles over, crouching down beside you and brushing hair from your face so he can get a good look at you. “What’re you doing on the floor?” he asks softly.

“I wanted to try something new,” you joke, but there’s hardly any light behind your breathy voice.

Jack frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“Just a migraine,” you shrug it off, but you both know it’s worse than you’re trying to make it seem.

Jack settles all the way down on his knees and scoops your head up to rest it in his lap. He runs his hands through your hair, and you whine at the comforting feeling, letting your eyes slip closed.

“How long?” he asks.

“About an hour.”

His forehead creases. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m just glad you’re here.”

Jack looks down at you with a softness that catches your breath in your throat. Before him, you weren’t used to being understood, to being taken care of. You were told to just deal with it; everyone compared what you went through with other illnesses and stories, and it just wasn’t fair. But Jack knew what it’s like, being in constant pain. He sees you; he sees through you. 

Which is why he asks, “Were you waiting for me?”

You nod slightly. “Knew you’d take care of me.”

He lets the smallest smile slip and caresses your face. “Let me make you something? Get some food into you so you can take an Advil.”

You smile. “Sounds perfect.”

Jack nods and somehow manages to rise to his feet while simultaneously scooping you up bridal style and resting you on the couch. “Hot or cold?” he asks.

“Hot.” You’re so unbelievingly hot. The pain’s got you all flustered; you can feel the heat pressing against your temple.

Jack goes over to the wall and flicks on the ceiling fan. Without a word, he heads to the kitchen and gets out the pancake mix. He keeps the kitchen lights on at a minimum and is careful not to clank too much as he cooks. You find yourself drifting off at the comfort of company, somehow, despite the pain.

He wakes you after about ten minutes with an apology, helping you slide up the couch until you’re sitting up enough he’s sure you won’t choke on your food. He holds a tray with a plate of pancakes, a glass of water, and a pill bottle on it and looks at you expectantly.

“I can do it,” you say, and he nods, setting the tray before you and sitting at your side. He sits silently as you eat, helping when you drop the fork and setting everything aside when you’re finished.

You look up at him as he settles back against the couch, and he pats his lap. Instantly, you’re folding on your side, resting your head in his lap again. Jack strokes through your hair, caressing your neck and applying light pressure to your temple. You moan at the feeling, and he continues to work away at the tension.

“Thank you,” you breathe.

“Of course.”

[spideyhexx]

a bad idea

clark kent x fem!reader

nsfw

two people in the aftermath of respective breakups find a moment of respite in each other

"Are you sure we should-"

You cut off Clark with another searing kiss. Your arms wrap tighter over his shoulders, your back digging against the alley wall, but there's no part of you that's worrying about that. Or the literal alley part. You can count on your hand how many times in your life your thoughts have shrunk to a one-track mind, and right now, all they're saying is, fuck Clark Kent.

Despite his worry, you know he is in no way going to move away from you. His hand is tight on your waist, the other pressing on your lower back, like he's welcoming you against his body.

Forever you would be grateful he caught your eye in the bar. That he too was nursing his cheap drink while wallowing about his breakup. It was yet another miracle that he was such a kind man, which of course, is what led to your one-track mind. You were never one to get this way with someone barely knew but Clark was invading every sense you had.

His mouth knows your mouth within the span of a few seconds, caressing his tongue on yours like sex itself. When his kisses breakaway to your jaw and your neck, you catch him mutter that you deserved better than your ex.

Fuck, you knew that, you told him that back in the bar, yet this large, nice man telling you it made you want to fuck him even more.

"Clark, please, I need something," you rasp out, slipping your hand into his hair. His breath hits hot on your neck as his hand slips to your thigh, knuckles brushing the egde of your underwear.

You watch as he looks both ways down the alley, then back to you, "Yes? Are you sure?"

Your enthusiastic nod makes his dimples reappear and that feeling of seeing them alone makes you want to orgasm.

Clark seems to understand the rush of what the two of you are doing, but he still takes his time, choosing to trace his fingers down the front of your underwear first, feeling the wetness through the fabric. You distract yourself by leaning up to kiss his jaw. His strong jaw that tenses when you suck on a spot, and he bites a groan down.

He pushes the fabric to the side, fingers dipping into your center to spread what's already been accumulating since his knee touched yours back in the bar.

"Fuck, c'mon," you whisper, or whine, you're not sure.

"Sorry," Clark mutters, his lips finding yours the moment he sinks one finger into you. You feel your whole body arch to him, and he swallows your moan, shushing you between his kisses. He works it slow, opening you up enough to take a second finger. With only the two, you feel entirely full.

"How're they so big?"

He laughs, crooking his fingers, "are they?"

You can't respond. It's as though he's scratching an itch in you that you never knew you had. His palm rubs against your clit as he thrusts his fingers, slow, but deep. Clark only curls them after every through thrusts, his mouth on yours, but it's impossible to kiss you when your jaw is slack, mouth parted.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he whispers, his eyes fluttering when a particular thrust of his fingers has your body arching, your thigh brushing the erection straining in his slacks. But none of his focus is on it. Nor is yours. You would feel bad for it later, but right now, you're selfish. You're greedy, wanting to come so badly, you grasp his wrist and push his fingers deeper.

"That's it? That's what you like?" Clark lets you, his movements faster, his breath just as ragged as yours, "Okay. I can do that. I can do that, sweetheart," he mutters, nodding his head to himself, his nose almost smushing to yours.

The adrenaline in your body has never felt this high, this tangible. It's chasing that end, to let Clark feel how good he'd doing, and despite his calm way of handling his breakup, you selfishly hope this small moment in an alleyway will infect his thoughts with you. That he'll remember the feel of your cunt when it clenches around his fingers, bringing you into your orgasm.

Because as the shocking pleasure moves through you and then dulls, his fingers slipping out of you, you realize how crazy this was of you. You didn't do this sort of thing, even before your ex, and your one-track mind cracks under the reality of it all. Pushing your dress down, you don't even notice the wet spot near his crotch, or his kind questions, asking if you're okay.

They're a blur. The relief of your release is momentary yet settling into the back of your skull, like it's out of your control. That there's no way you can block out what just happened, because it was too good. And now, Clark is staring at you with concern, his hands hovering over you like he's afraid to touch you.

"Thank you...uh, Clark this was...you didn't do anything wrong, just..I'm sorry, this was a bad idea but thank you," you tell him, forcing yourself to not meet his eyes, even though you long to see them again, but it would only make this feel more real than you would like it too. So you move under his arm and briskly walk away, not hearing footsteps after you.

[ebodebo]

SMILE LIKE YOU MEAN IT! │ clark kent

You and Clark have a fight. You leave his house and go to the Daily Planet after hours to work and calm down. Clark finds you there and helps ease your mind.

CONTAINS: 18+ SMUT MDNI, fem!reader, oral sex (fem!receiving ofc,) vaginal fingering, hair pulling (rawrrr his curlsss,) arguing, playful banter, TEASING, & no use of y/n.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: been thinking about making this little fic since i watched the movie and i finally finished it! i need this midwestern goober so bad. it’s not even funny. on that note, i hope you enjoy this horny concoction!

"You're giving me a headache," you sigh, taking a deep sip of your water as you lean against Clark's kitchen sink, watching him hurriedly untie his tie. Your voice is tinged with frustration and exhaustion.

"Oh. Am I?" he replies, sarcastically tossing his tie onto the coffee table.

You set your glass of water down on the counter and massage your temples. "Clark, I know you care about me. You want to keep me safe, but I feel like you're suffocating me," you say earnestly.

He walks over, his voice firm and unwavering. "I'm trying to protect you. You don't understand the risks."

You shake your head with a humorless laugh. "For Christ's sake, Clark, you secretly arranged for someone to escort me home after brunch with Jimmy. You didn't even ask if that's what I wanted. That's not trust,” you insist, crossing your arms over your chest. 

Clark mimics your stance, crossing his arms over his chest, a hint of frustration in his tone. “I trust you; you know that. I just don't trust most other people.”

“You’re interfering with my work,” you accuse.

“I wouldn’t say that,” he responds, tilting his head.

“No?” you answer, your tone sharp. “You’re still trying to convince me to drop my exposé on that crime ring in Gotham because it’s too ‘cliché.’ But I know you’re really just worried about me getting hurt,” you say, giving him a knowing look.

He bites his tongue before speaking again. “Do you honestly believe those criminals wouldn’t come after the pretty news reporter who put them on blast?”

You give him an unamused look, your anger simmering just beneath the surface. "What about the other night? When I was walking home from the library, and you swooped in out of nowhere, 'coincidentally' walking me home. You didn't trust me to take care of myself then, either, even though I'm perfectly capable," you assert, your displeasure evident.

"I'm not saying you're not capable," he replies, spreading his hands in a placating gesture.

You take a deep breath, eyeing him for a moment before uncrossing your arms and resting them at your sides. "It just… it feels like you're more concerned with protecting me than actually being with me."

"That's not fair," Clark’s voice rises, his jaw clenched with tension.

"Fair? You're the one who's being unfair. You try to keep me in a bubble and control every situation." You flail your arms to emphasize your point. Clark opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off. "And for the love of God, do not blame that on Superman. Just don't."

"In case you forgot, I am Superman. He's a part of me. You knew that going in," he declares confidently, lifting a finger to point at you.

You roll your eyes and push off the counter, your feet padding around him. "Whatever, Clark," you mutter, feeling fatigue take over.

"No, no. Don't 'whatever, Clark' me," he says, turning his head to fix his piercing blue eyes on you as you walk toward the couch to grab your jacket. "Just—at least look at me," he pleads, his voice tinged with desperation.

You spin on your heels to face him, scowling slightly. “Just tell me—are you my boyfriend or just Superman trying to protect a civilian?”

His lips press into a flat line, clearly showing his frustration. “Don’t do that,” he replies, his voice strained.

You shrug nonchalantly. “Do what, Clark?”

He twists his head and closes his eyes in a display of impatience. “You always bring that up when we argue,” he snaps.

As you adjust your jacket and stride toward the front door, you mutter under your breath, “It’s hard not to.” You look up to lock eyes with him; his gaze is already fixed on you. “I just... I need some space.”

“Okay,” he nods lightly, wiping the exhaustion from his face before lazily pointing to the couch. “I’ll take the couch. You can have my bed.” He turns on his heels toward the couch, swiping a pillow off the cushion. 

“No, Clark,” you begin, your voice catching in your throat. “I just—I need to be away from you.”

He turns around, a pillow in hand, a stunned expression on his face. “You’re leaving me?”

You take a deep breath, trying to muster more courage. The way he looks at you, his bright blue eyes sunken and sorrowful, makes you want to run and jump into his arms, but you resist.

You need him to respect your bodily autonomy.

“I just need to be alone,” you say firmly, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your jacket. “At least for the night.”

He stares at you for a moment before nodding. “Okay, fine,” he replies, glancing away as he tosses the pillow back onto the couch. “Whatever you want.”

“Alright then,” you murmur as you reach for the door handle. “Goodbye.”

“Will you—can you at least text me when you get home?” His voice is so soft that you almost miss it. “So I know you’re safe?”  

You pause, caught in a moment of indecision, your silence lingering in the air.  

The door swings open and then closes with a soft, definitive click.  

You should have responded, but the fear of breaking down in his kitchen left you speechless.  

Clark's gaze remains fixed on the front door until he catches a whiff of your perfume, making his vulnerability crack through.

At that moment, he realized he couldn’t hide behind the bright cape or the shiny name. 

He could feel the full weight of his humanity, and it was crushing. 

The Daily Planet, although it is your day job, has always served as a sanctuary during times of unrest after hours. However, being here now is giving you an even bigger migraine than you already have.

You feel the strain in your eyes as you stare intently at your computer screen for the third hour. Your fingers tap anxiously against the keyboard as you struggle to find the right words.

The cursor blinks ominously behind the few words already on the page, a silent mockery of your writer's block. Doubt and frustration seep in, clouding your thoughts and making it even harder to focus.

Your mind keeps drifting back to your fight with Clark. 

The look on his face when you turned down his offer to stay over feels like a weight pressing down on your chest. His expression was filled with pain, as if he believed you would never return to him.

You stretch your fingers, trying to stave off the creeping carpal tunnel, before sinking back into your chair with a soft squeak.

"Thought I'd find you here," a deep voice booms from beside you, making you jump and whip your head around to see who spoke.

"Shit," you curse, holding a hand over your heart, and find Clark standing there, still dressed in his white long-sleeve shirt and black slacks. "You scared me," you admit. "What are you doing here?"

He sticks his hands in the pockets of his pants. "I came here for you."

You exhale a sigh and turn to look back at your computer screen. "I don't want to talk to you right now, Clark," you confess, squinting to read the few words on the page.

"You don't have to, sweetheart," he says, taking a few steps closer. "Just hear me out, okay?"

Your eyes remain fixed on the screen until you feel your chair being spun around, forcing you to face him. "Clar—" you start to say, but he interrupts you, his hand still on your chair.

"You're stressed. I get that," he begins, looking at you with intensity. "You work too hard and don't sleep enough."

"I also have a boyfriend who doesn't trust me to take care of myself," you interject, raising an eyebrow.

He pulls back his head in faux shock. "Hey, who's this other boyfriend? Do I need to fight him?"

A smile breaks through your lips as you playfully push against his chest. "Shut up, you dork," you tease, your tone light.

Clark smiles as he glances at your computer screen. "Let me see this," he says, already moving behind your chair to take a closer look.

You turn to him, aware of him hovering over your shoulder. "I'm just working on this exposé. It's nothing."

"Mhm. Nothing is right," he teases with a playful smile, his dimples showing. "There's hardly anything on here."

"Hey," you point to the very few words on the page. "Don't you see the top line?"

He leans in closer. "Oh, yeah," he replies with a sardonic tone. "I have to keep an eye on you. With just those three words, you'll have me out of a job in no time. Very hard-hitting stuff," he jokes.

You turn to look at him, perhaps to throw another playful jab, but instead, he seizes the moment to kiss you deeply. His lips are warm and soft, and the taste of his breath takes your own breath away.

"You didn't text me," he murmurs against your lips.

You almost don't register what he's saying. "I didn't say I was going to," you reply with a dry mouth. "I thought that implied I wasn't going to."

“Oh, is that what you thought?” He presses another kiss to your lips, pulling back slightly to speak. “I know you can take care of yourself. You’re my tough girl, right? But it puts me at ease to know that you’re safe.” He kisses you again.

“Mhm,” you hum against his lips, your lips brushing against his. “I just need you to respect my boundaries, okay? You can keep me safe without suffocating me,” you bring your hands up to touch his cheeks lightly.

He leans in closer, his voice low and husky. “Was that so hard?” 

You pull him closer by his cheeks, whispering, “Don’t talk. Just kiss me.”

As soon as the command slips from your lips, he leaps into action. He kisses you with an intense passion, a fervent need that consumes you both.

His hands gently cradle your cheeks, deepening the kiss with each passing moment. They then slide down to your waist, pulling you closer as you find yourself pressed against the desk, the kiss never breaking.

His fingers fidget with the hem of your shirt, skimming across your bare skin and making you shiver. “Are we really about to have sex in the workplace, Mr. Kent?” you ask, breathless, as your fingers thread through his curls.

“I think we are, sweet girl,” he breathes, moving to pop open the buttons to your blouse.

He shoves the blouse off, pressing hot kisses against your collarbone. “I hate when we fight,” he murmurs into your skin, his hand gripping your ass through your pencil skirt.

“Certainly makes for an enticing night,” you say, tilting your head back so Clark can kiss up your neck.

He pulls back for a moment, fidgeting with his belt. You move your hand to stop him, locking eyes with him. “You want to take care of me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” he replies without hesitation.

“Then, show me. Show me how well you can take care of me,” you say, biting your bottom lip as you slide onto the desk, opening your legs wide enough for him to see your red lace panties.

His eyes glance to look at your panties as he stands with his hands on his hips. “I thought you didn’t want me to do that anymore,” he darts his tongue across his lips, eyes still honing in on your cunt.

“Get on your knees, Clark,” you direct, voice low, letting your heels drop to the floor.

He smiles, his dimples appearing. “You’re demanding,” he accuses, with humor, as he sinks to his knees, big hands coming to rest on your thighs.

“And you’re not putting your mouth on me fast enough,” you whine, head tilting back as his grip tightens.

“Oh, you mean like this?” He leans in, pressing a deep kiss on your cunt, your panties rubbing against your clit gently. 

“Fuck—yes,” your hand drifts to rest on the back of his head, putting him where you need. “Just like that,” you encourage, pulling him closer. 

He brings a finger up, pulling your panties to the slide so he can feel your bare cunt on his lips, already twitching and wet under his lips. His tongue flicks against your clit, making you surge forward. “You’re sensitive,” he mutters into you.

“Well, your tongue is in my—ah, Clark,” you moan, back arching, feeling his tongue drag across your aching clit.

He pulls his head back slightly. “What was that, sweetheart?” 

Your hand rests on the edge of the desk, knuckles white. “Goddamn it—you… you,” you say, voice strained and breathless.

“Took your breath away, did I?” His tongue slides across your puffy clit, eliciting a whimper from you.

His hand braces impossibly tighter on your thigh, and you’re sure you’ll have bruises on your skin as his skillful tongue prods against your needy bud.

You're practically grinding against his face, trying to chase your high. Your finger in his hair pulls him up to look at you with one of his curls. “Give me your fingers,” you order, the thought of release burning away at your senses.

He obliges; naturally, he’ll do anything to please you.

“Mhm. See,” he tuts. “Demanding,” he hums as he brings two fingers up to push in and out of your greedy cunt, not allowing you time to respond. Your head is tilted back as your loud moans fill the office.

“Ah, listen to that. Music to my ears,” he says, eyes hyper-focused on his fingers plunging in and out of you. “They’ll hear you all the way in Gotham.”

“So, let them—fuck—so… so close,” you manage to choke out, his fingers making you fall apart faster than you expected. 

“Yeah?” he prompts through a breath. 

You nod your head, your lower stomach tight and skin sizzling as you come undone, your thighs trembling on his fingers as you come.

You glance down at him, your eyes heavy with fatigue. “Shit,” you curse with a dry laugh.

He makes you laugh as he moves to stand, watching you before brushing the hair out of your face. “How’d I do?”

“There’s always room for improvement,” you toy, your chest still heaving.

“Uh-huh. Yeah, yeah,” he replies, stepping closer to dip his head to kiss you, sweet this time.

Well, aside from the fact that you can taste yourself on his lips.

He pulls back, studying the glint in your eyes, a silent conversation passing between you. “Am I still your Superman?”

“No,” you begin, wrapping your arms around his neck, making him raise a confused eyebrow. “You’re my Clark.”

MINI AUTHOR'S NOTE: i clearly got carried away with the dialogue, but it's always my fav part lmao i hope you enjoyed! muah!

[rosiesweets]

and i'd give myself to you (every time) - three

synoposis: by the end of the day paige is covered in flour and still doesn’t know what the fuck a choux pastry is.

a/n: we’re soooo back. was comatose for a bit on my couch while the stomach virus overtook my body. but we’re on the up and about to have some fun! also figured some might need this after today’s game which was … something. this is a little self-indulgent because i love baking and gbbo <3 as always, let me know what you think. thank you for being here, xo, chiara

and i’d trip over my feet just to see you smile

paige wakes up to the sound of someone’s blaring alarm at six am, which is pretty criminal since they’ve only all gone to bed about two hours ago.

“shit i’m so sorry” whispers a voice in the distance and paige pushes her head further into her pillow. she lays there for what feels like an hour before accepting her fate that she won’t be going back to sleep anytime soon. she lets her thoughts drift back to last night (this morning). sitting with azzi on the couch. azzi opening up to her about her injuries. the kiss. all the recent memories warming her chest.

but then paige internally frowns. she can’t believe dylan got the first impression rose. not to have a big ego or anything, but it just didn’t make sense. azzi spent so much time with paige last night, more than anyone else! azzi only kissed her! (she checked). it just wasn’t adding up. did she say something to scare her already? was the kiss too much? was it bad? (not possible). paige didn’t want to spiral so early on, but she felt like she couldn’t help it. not to parrot all the lines recycled on these types of shows but she really felt like they had a connection. she couldn’t explain it. sitting with azzi, talking, kissing, just looking at her felt right. like they fit. paige hadn’t felt that in a long time.

the thing about becoming a public figure, is that even though your following grows larger and larger, your world actually becomes quite small. you bring with you your closest. the people that have been with you before the brand deals and think pieces. and everyone after, well, there’s not many people after. besides paige’s teammates, it’s been hard for her to trust that new people in her life are there for her. like actually her, and not who they think paige is based off two interviews and her instagram profile. she doesn’t know who has a weird parasocial relationship to her, a secret agenda, or like edits of her saved on their tik tok. and it’s not like she wouldn’t actually be friends with or date someone who has followed her or knows her, it’s just difficult and time consuming to work out who someone really is. and paige is too vulnerable and trusting of people’s good intentions to not get hurt in the interim. so instead, she just, doesn’t let many new people in. and it’s been good. she’s happy, mostly. but last night azzi made her realize just how much she’s been missing. she’s eager to return to that feeling. the excitement of learning someone new, someone that you have an initial immediate attraction to. call her a simp or down bad or whatever but she’s excited to have a crush again. to do it safely. well, if competing against thirty, now twenty three people on national tv can be called safe but like, whatever you get it.

she lets herself smile at the thought. she doesn’t know if she’ll win this, doesn’t know if her and azzi can really fall in love like this, but like every thing else in her life she tells herself she’ll take it one possession, one interaction, at a time.

—

paige has no idea what to expect for the first group date beyond hopefully something athletic so she doesn’t embarrass herself too severely. they arrive at, whole foods? and paige looks around at the other contestants who thankfully also have confused looks on their faces. paige steps out, dressed cooly in jorts and a short sleeve button down, and slots herself next to one of the matts (farthest away from dylan, but that’s not on purpose or anything). once production gets them lined up exactly as they want, they hear an “action!” and azzi is walking out of the whole foods towards them. of course, she looks absolutely beautiful. she’s in a more casual outfit compared to yesterday’s gown. striped oversized button down and brown sleeveless sweater dress over. curls placed in an artful messy updo. obviously paige thinks she looks incredible (along with everyone else, but paige more).

“hi everyone! how are we all feeling on this sunny morning in la?” azzi essentially shouts as the microphones are ten feet away from her (and caroline has already warned her she speaks too softly). they already have to redo the “amazing” three times, so filming is sure to go great today.

“i’m sure you’re all wondering what we’re doing at a whole foods of all places. i wanted our first group date to have all the elements: competition, fast thinking, and of course, fun! also, i love food and would hope to have a partner that loves to eat as much as i do. with that being said here’s what’s going to happen: you’re all going to reenact one of my favorite shows, great british bake off! you’re all going to get a recipe for one of my favorite pastries, which is a surprise for later, and given two hours to complete it. the winner will get a a surprise prize.”

paige doesn’t even hear herself cheer, just feels herself lock in at the words “surprise prize,” which given how these shows work, she’s certain is time with azzi, so of course, she has to win. paige has never made a pastry in her life, but hey it can’t be that hard right?

azzi’s voice cuts through paige’s thoughts, “but first, i want to see how you work in teams! i’ll pick two names out this hat to be team captains. you’ll each draft your team from the remaining contestants. each team has five minutes to plan and twenty minutes to gather all the ingredients everyone on their team will need. be careful, you’ll only be baking with what you manage to grab! ok, the first name is … dylan!” paige watches as dylan comes to step beside azzi, looking far too happy. “and the competing team captain is … paige!”

and truly, what a surprise. paige is certain after last night they were the only two names in the hat (they were, thanks caroline!).

paige quickly sweeps over all the contestants in front of her, trying to size up speed, height, and baking knowledge. after the teams are all picked, paige finds herself in the familiar place at the center of a huddle. “alright y’all, i picked each and every one of you because i have one hundred percent faith in your baking gathering supply abilities. we’re going to split the list in sections and go in partners. lina, you’re going to stand guard of the cart at the end of aisle, closest to the registers, checking off the list. once you grab all your items drop it in the cart. we got this. be great, azzi on three.” and honestly, it’s one of the best huddle speeches she’s given in a while.

paige and her partner, joey, race to find baking soda and baking powder. “these are two different things?” paige asks joey in all seriousness. joey laughs replying “well i guess i don’t to worry about you winning this one. i was kinda worried we’d be on basketball court today and you’d get to embarrass us all.” paige lets out an incredulous gasp, “i’ll have you know joey, i can beat everyone here on and off the court, doesn’t matter what it is.” joey just leaves paige standing there in her indignation, clearly knowing where she’s going and paige suddenly remembers what they’re doing. she follows joey into the baking aisle as she holds up two small cardboard boxes.

“here’s a tip i definitely should not be giving you, baking powder and baking soda help the chemistry of your baking. you need very little of both and they look exactly the same so be careful and don’t mix them up. remember the letters, s for spread, and p for puff. baking soda helps your bake spread, think cookies, and baking powder gives your bake lift like rise on a cake. and please in the future remember i helped you.”

paige smiles at joey, committing this new information to memory, “joey, you and i are going to get along just fine,” hooking her arm around joey’s shoulder and running them to lina who is waiting with a blessedly full looking cart. lina takes the boxes from them but goes “i think michael needs help in the dairy, he can’t tell difference between heavy cream and whipping cream.” joey just sighs dragging paige over to help. paige keeps to herself that she also did not know there was this many different types of creams.

they finish shopping with just thirty seconds to spare and azzi has been watching them from behind the registers, chatting with jesse about what she’s observing. paige makes quick eye contact with her and sends her a wink as she lifts the bags out of the cart (and if it’s just at the right time as her biceps curling well that’s just paige’s fantastic luck).

—

to begin the choux, gently heat the butter, milk, salt, and sugar in a pan over medium heat. once the butter has melted, increase the heat and quickly bring the mixture to a boil. tip the flour in one go and whisk vigorously to combine.

first, paige thinks to herself, is what the fuck is a choux? second, she needs a scale and she needs to figure out how to set it to zero and she should probably take out her flour and fuck where did she put the whisk?

paige has always relied on her ability to lock in, to stay calm under pressure, and on the outside, she thinks she’s doing a decent job (she is not, she looks lost), but internally she’s freaking out because she can barely successfully bake a cake from a box and now she’s being asked to bake and put together components of an eclair and god why did azzi have to like such a complicated dessert?

paige takes a single deep breath and tells herself to just read the recipe and follow it one step at a time. she might not really know how to bake, but she can for sure read, and that’s got to get her to at least to edible.

paige has one hand on the dial of her burner to control the heat and the other holding her bowl of flour at the ready, which already got all over her when she was measuring it out on the scale. she would be more mad about it, but as she looked up to wipe some flour off her face she made eye contact with azzi as she laughed and honesty, worth it. the mixture has bubbles coming up pretty fast so she decides that’s a boil, dumps the flour in, and starts whisking.

holy shit this looks like batter. paige can’t help the wide smile that spreads across her face. remember when she said she couldn’t bake? scratch that, turns out she is amazing at everything she tries, take that universe.

she’s just taking her mixture off the heat when azzi stops by her table. “how’s it going captain?” paige grabs a spatula and meets azzi’s eyes, taking in her long lashes, god she’s so pretty. “honestly a rough start, but i think i’ve made quite the comeback. prepare yourself princess these are about to be the best eclairs you’ve ever had.” again, azzi laughs, score, “i would ask if you’re always this confident but i think i know the answer to this one.” paige begins scooping her mixture into a piping bag like the instructions say and honestly, should she quit basketball and open a bakery? “see, you already know me so well. and after these eclairs, you’re going to want to marry me.” caroline signals it’s time for azzi to move to the next contestant so she lets out one last giggle before leaving paige with “we’ll see about that superstar.”

paige is on a high for the rest of the two hours. by the end she produces something that vaguely looks an eclair and doesn’t taste genuinely terrible, honestly, they’re pretty good if she does say so herself.

hm, she thinks to herself as she sets her tray down behind her photo, she just might win this.

—

paige does not win. paige does not come close to winning. she gets seventh. which actually out of twenty three is pretty good considering azzi only named her top ten.

azzi is standing at the front of the room, corner of her mouth adorably dotted with chocolate, as she says “congrats joey, you are today’s winner!” joey, standing to paige’s right blushes and smiles. paige, while never satisfied with a loss, is happy for joey. joey seems cool and clearly does this as in her free time. if paige lost, she’s glad she lost to someone like joey. jesse steps up to let everyone know joey’s prize. “joey, since you’re today’s winner, you and your team will get an extra hour with azzi before tonight’s cocktail party.” and half the room erupts in cheers.

more time with azzi, paige doesn’t want to admit it but she’s got butterflies at the thought of getting even more time to get to know her. she smiles to herself and pats herself on her back for drafting joey early to her team. she really always was a great team captain.

—

paige is casually chatting to one of the matts at the start of their extra hour. everyone agreed as the winner joey should get to talk to azzi first, and paige is thanking herself for picking such a chill group of people for her team. she knows these shows though, and things have been only mildly dramatic so far, so she’s sure that’s about to change soon. whatever happens, she’s sure to keep herself far from it.

paige and matt, whatever his last name is, are talking about their upcoming w and nba predictions as paige quickly catches her reflection in one of the mirrors above one of the what seems like ten fireplaces in this mansion. she’s pretty proud of her outfit, blue trousers, cropped white vest, and blue jacket tied around her shoulders. her hair in a slick back pony. she feels cool in an effortless way that definitely did not take at least an hour. she’s just about to answer matt’s questions about playing small forward so much instead of point guard when she feels a tap on her shoulder.

surprisingly it’s azzi. “hi, time to chat?” paige smiles, immediately taking azzi’s hand, “wow, pulling me for a chat? am i the new bachelorette now?” azzi shakes her head and pulls them outside to a l-shaped outdoor couch situated under a pergola lined with string lights. before paige can even hesitate about how much she should touch azzi, azzi pulls paige’s arm around her as they put their feet up. her head is tucked warmly in the crook of paige’s neck and paige thinks they should stay right here for the rest of the night.

“so how was baking your first eclair?” azzi opens with. paige scoffs, “um what makes you think it was my first?” azzi doesn’t answer verbally, just turns her head up to paige’s eye and raises a singular perfectly manicured eyebrow.

“okay, yeah you got me. but you gotta admit it was pretty good for a first try. and hey, i’m great at picking teammates, so really i think it was a great day for me overall.” she feels azzi nod and laugh, “that’s true, you got really lucky picking the person that actually bakes for a living.” paige intertwines their hands and goes “wait joey bakes for a living? wow i didn’t know, but i guess i have incredible spidey senses.”

azzi snorts, seemingly entertained by paige’s incredible ability to make everything about herself. instead of feeding her ego, she asks paige “do you cook a lot?” paige shakes her head. “no, it’s not something i ever really got into. i used to eat like a total child, uncrustables and slim jims. but as i got further into the w i realized i really needed to take my nutrition seriously because i needed to gain muscle if i didn’t want to get put my ass every night on the court.” she can feel azzi nod and trace the lines of their intertwined hands, “so you kinda see food as utility?” “day to day, honestly, yeah. but i love food in the way it brings people together. i love learning about foods from my teammate’s cultures. i love gathering with my family around a big meal and the holidays. some of my most favorite memories are grilling with my dad in the backyard during the two months minnesota is warm. also i love getting a sweet treat obviously.” and azzi lights up, lifting her head from paige’s neck and turning slightly to face paige, “i love a sweet treat!” paige, laugh softly, “yeah beautiful, you had us make you forty eclairs today.” azzi adorably pouts and paige wants to kiss it off her. before azzi can answer paige asks “what’s your favorite food memory?” azzi’s eyebrows crinkle as she thinks “that’s a great question. i feel like i have so many. honestly, i might have to be during covid. my brothers and i were going out of our minds, i was just finished giving them the most horrific buzz cuts anyone has ever seen. my mom ordered grocery delivery and surprised us with s’mores. we made them over our gas stove. we all crowded around one burner and sat on the kitchen floor eating only sort of roasted marshmallows. i remembered looking around and just laughing hysterically as my brother got chocolate on his forehead.”

paige can picture it, a younger, less polished azzi, sat in pajamas on her kitchen floor, laughing with all her teeth at her brother. “that sounds really wonderful. my little brother and i have a really close relationship but i don’t think he’d ever let me go near him with razor, how’d you convince your brothers?” paige is looking right at azzi now, trying to focus on their conversation and not the how beautiful azzi looks under the glow of the stringlights. azzi laughs again, and paige doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of hearing it, “honestly, we were all so bored i think they were willing to do anything that killed time. but also, my brothers kind of just let me do what i want.”

paige smirks, “yeah i can see how you have that impact on people.” azzi has the audacity to look confused. “what do you mean?” it’s paige’s turn to raise her eyebrow at azzi, “you’re telling me you don’t flutter your eyelashes and smile that beautiful smile and not get whatever you want? i don’t believe it.” azzi smirks, bringing her face just a breath away from paige’s, “well you know what i want right now?” paige feels her breath hitch, “what beautiful?” azzi smiles, “i want you to kiss me superstar.” and well, paige is nothing if not accommodating.