#i feel like i had things i wanted to say while making this and now im just at a lost for words

[deliwrites]

𝕐𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕆𝕦𝕣𝕤 // Saja Boys & Huntr/x

// DATE // 25th of July 2025 → 31st July 2025 // PAIRING // Huntr/x x Fem!Reader x Saja Boys // WARNING // Morally grey discussion, humiliation, guilt, skinship, princess treatment, protective and possessive behavior // WORDS // 6.2k+ // SUMMARY // After a tense confrontation, Y/n finds safety in Zoey’s warmth—until a surprise interview throws her into the spotlight. With Baby and Mystery at her side, tension builds beneath calm touches and possessive glances. And when they're finally alone, desire wins out in a kiss that leaves her breathless… and conflicted.

// You're Ours Masterlist // Previous // Part Nine // Next //

a/n: Maju FM is a made up radio station, it means face to face FM. As is the segment “WHO ARE YOU!”, I have chosen an age to fit the story, Reader is 23 years old! It took a while to finish cause I had to built the Saja Boys apartment in the sims 4

The living room was dim, the automatic lights having dimmed to a soft glow. Jinu had cleared the cake plates and put the leftover cake back in the fridge. With Y/n now safely upstairs with Zoey, it was time.

Baby was busy setting up Y/n’s new phone. Added all their contacts and blocked all of Jaewon’s old phone numbers including the one he used to torment their girl today.

“We are not letting this slide anymore,” Abby broke the silence first, voice calm. But power simmered under his skin.

“I’ve never seen her shut down like this,” Rumi says, leaning against Jinu. A sorrowful look on her face. “I think the fact that you held her did help,” she looks at Romance, a soft smile plays on his lips. Very glad he was able to comfort her.

“He announced he has an event tomorrow night,” Mystery says, phone in hand, arms littered with his patterns. Unable to suppress them at them moment. The need to protect what was his taking control. “It’s near Itaewon. He’ll be drunk and distracted,” he adds looking at the event information. Seeing that there was an open bar and entertainment.

“Perfect Mira smirks evilly, eyes golden with dark excitement. “You two tail him,” she points at Baby and Mystery. “Make sure he feels watched, make him paranoid.”

Baby’s lips curl. “I’ll take his phone. Easy in a crowded place, put it back before he notices it’s missing.”

“And once you have it?” Rumi asks, wondering what he had in mind. She could guess but wanted to make sure they were all on the same page.

“I clone it. Mirror everything. Just like I did with Y/n’s phone,” he elaborates. “I’ll be able to see his texts, calls, location. Every disgusting thing he searches. E-ver-y-thing,” the look on his face is enough to kill someone. Which he very much planned on doing.

“We’ll mask our presence,” Mystery adds. “He won’t know who we are but he’ll notice,” he turns into a random dude right in front of them. It looked nothing like any of them, but had the darkest, most sinister look on his face when he smiled.

“Let’s make him wish he never laid eyes on our girl,” Abby’s statement is final. The first part of their plan set up and ready to be put in motion.

Waking up bare chested was new… and odd. Not something I ever did. It was slightly chilly too. Cuddling closer to Zoey who still laid next to me. Her arms wrapping around me even tighter in response. My face nuzzles into her neck. Zoey shudders as a content sigh fans her skin.

“Gwiyomi?” her voice soft as the somewhat surprised question leaves her lips. The word sounding slightly slurred with sleep.

“Good morning,” I smile against her neck. She squeezes me, sleepily.

“I don’t want to get up,” she says, pecking my head. “Just want to stay right here with you,” I giggle at her breathy words. Pulling away just enough to look at Zoey. Her eyes are still closed a soft smile on her lips. It’s hard to hold myself back from kissing them. I can’t right now, can’t be even more of a distraction, she’s got work to do.

“You gotta work,” I tease her, tickling her side. Her eyes snapping open squeals leaving her lips unwillingly.

“S-stop-” Zoey stutters through giggles. Chuckling, I stop tickling her giving her some space to breath. “Oh my god, that woke me up,” she chuckles.

“Now you gotta get out of bed,” I start pushing her towards the edge of the bed.

“Only if you come with me,” she pouts, ass already slipping out of the bed. I just chuckle and keep pushing her till she’s fully on the floor. Turning my back to her I let out a sigh feigning peace and quiet, closing my eyes again. “No, no, no,” Zoey stomps around my bed, blocking the sun cascading on my face. I peek one eye open, the pout is still on her face, brows furrowed in anger.

“Fine,” I whine, sitting up slowly. A grin forms on her lips. Leaning forward she pecks my nose to which I scrunch it. She grins then pecks my lips.

“Time to get ready, you’re gonna spend the day with Baby and Mystery,” nodding I stand up. she pulls me closer by my hips pecking my lips again, and again. Her hand slide over my ass, a squeal escaping my lips when she suddenly squeezes. My hands bracing against her shoulders in surprise.

“Zoey~,” I whine a flush covering my cheeks. She just shrugs like it was nothing. Something she had to do, couldn’t leave untouched.

“Get dressed and I’ll see you downstairs before we leave, okay?” I nod to which she nods in return. Pecking my lips tenderly, lingering before leaving my room. Not caring that she was still topless.

When she closed the door it dawns on me that I too was still topless. I really needed a shower after last nights events, but at the same time I didn’t want to get rid of the feeling of Zoey’s touch.

After a quick shower and changing into a pair of light blue shorts and a comfy hoodie, I make my way downstairs.

“Oh! There is my breakfast!” my eyes shoot up to meet Zoey. Mira and Rumi chocking on their own breakfasts. Surprised by their bandmates words, spoken with such excitement. My cheeks burn red with humiliation. Though, I can’t deny the twitch it sent below.

“Zoey~,” I whine, reach the kitchen unable to look at either Rumi nor Mira. “You can’t just say that,” I pout. She just giggles and pulls me into her embrace. Cupping my cheeks she pecks my lips softly, like an apology.

“I’m just teasing, gwiyomi,” she says. “Though I could definitely eat you for breakfast another time,” her voice barely above a whisper, she pulls away handing me a place which had a leftover slice of cake. Completely missing the smirks on Rumi and Mira’s face as they shake a look.

So could we.

“Thank you,” taking the plate I move around the island, taking a seat next to Mira. Face hotter than a tomato. I take a quick bite of the cooled cake in hopes of cooling my face. Not taking my eyes off the unhealthy breakfast.

Missing the way Zoey has to hold back her squeak of excitement. Having just told them about last nights escapades. The other two were only a little bit envious but it means she’s trusting them more and more.

“Here is your new phone,” Mira slides the iridescent pearl colored phone to me. It now had a clear case on it and when I pressed the screen there was a selfie of the eight of them. It looked like they took it when they held a fan event together. One I couldn’t attend. They all made funny faces which brought a smile to my face.

“Thank you, what about my old phone?” I ask, scrolling through my phone to see if their were anything missing. Everything seemed to be there.

“Baby took care of it,” Rumi says, shrugging her shoulders. Portraying that Baby would get rid of it. But in reality he held on to it to see if Jaewon would still message her. “Don’t forget to set up a password. Oh and all our numbers are in there. Including Bobby’s, Felix’s and Celine’s,” Bobby being their manager, Felix being the Saja Boys’ manager, and head of Honmoon, Celine.

“So if you need us, we are only a call away,” Zoey smiles sitting down beside me. She pecks my cheeks sweetly before digging into her breakfast like she hasn’t eaten in days.

“What will you guys be doing today?” I ask curiously, only a little nervous about spending the day with Baby and Mystery. Not that I didn’t trust them, but if there was a picture in the dictionary with the word intimidating, it would be them.

“We have to record our new song,” Rumi says. “And then we can finally show you.”

“I can’t wait to show you,” Zoey claps with excitement. The smile on her face bringing a copy on mine. Her excitement was one of the things that first drew me in when it came to Huntr/x. They had debuted just the year before I started traineeship. I was hooked before they even had debuted. The funniest of clips had been going around of challenges they had done during their traineeship. Along with Zoey struggling to learn Korean.

Obviously her mom was Korean but she grew up in the US where their had been no use for the language. It was absolutely adorable to watch her learn. Now you would think she’d always spoken Korean.

“I can’t wait to hear it,” I finish my cake just as the elevator dings. Out walk Baby and Mystery. “Good morning,” I greet them. Getting up I clean up my plate, putting it in the dishwasher. Soon putting in the girls’ plates to.

“Right, we are off now,” Rumi announces. “Take good care of her,” she gives the boys a pointed look. Not that she doubted them. Baby doesn’t look too fazed but there is a flicker of offense in his eyes.

“I’m sure they’ll take wonderful care of her,” Zoey says squishing my face before she presses her lips on mine. It’s tender with a small bite that promises more later. After a squeeze to my ass causing me to go red, she smirks and walks in the direction of the elevator. I get pulled in for a peck by Mira. Missing the way Zoey kisses both Baby and Mystery. But I don’t get to recover before Rumi does the same.

“We’ll see you tonight,” Mira calls out, the two of them following Zoey. Meanwhile I’m stood frozen. Still by the dishwasher face flushed with both embarrassment and guilt.

I’ve been intimate with Zoey, I shouldn’t go around kissing her band mates behind her back! What is wrong with me!?

“You okay ippeuni?” Mystery’s sudden yet extremely comforting voice bring me back to reality.

“Uhm, yeah,” I think about talking about my predicament with them but decide against it. “We gonna do anything special today?” I ask instead. I’ll have another internal battle about this later.

“The plan was to just chill today,” Baby says, letting out a somewhat annoyed sigh before continuing. “But we have an unexpected radio interview.”

“Oh, uhm, that’s alright. I can just stay here,” it’s no biggie really, but they way they look at me is like I've just insulted them.

“No, you’re coming with,” Mystery walks over to me, wrapping his arm around my waist and starts tugging me along. “Gaja.”

“Won’t I just be in the way?” I swiftly snatch my phone from the counter. Letting Mystery guide me without much protest.

“You could never,” Baby’s voice sounds deeper than normal, making a shiver run down my spine, deliciously. No stop it body, don’t betray me!

The car ride was almost eerily quiet. But I knew both of them weren’t big talkers. Instead they showed their attention with a - possessive - grip on my knees.

“So, what is the interview about?” I decide to break the silence with my curiosity.

“Not sure, something about getting to know us better as individual people.”

“You don’t sound excited about it,” I note. I mean I couldn’t blame them. Why they decided to put the two of the most silent people of the group together for an interview is beyond me.

“I just can’t be bothered to talk to people about myself. Especially those nosy hosts,” Baby replies, his hand squeezing my knee. “I would much rather spend the day with you,” a shy smile plays on my lips at his words, wishing we could indeed be doing that instead.

“Sadly, responsibilities get in the way,” Mystery adds. “Other wise we would never leave your side,” his grip tightens on my knee, it doesn't hurt, it actually felt nice. Possessive.

Before I can respond the car stops in the parking garage of the radio station. No door opens which means the driver is staying the car. The back of the large SUV being completely separate form the front. Mystery get’s out first then lends me his hand. With the SUV being this large, I was grateful for the hand, jumping the small distance to the concrete floor.

Baby appeared from the other side of the car. A look that screams ‘I don’t want to be here’ on his face. Which was not far from the reality.

Baby was promised alone time which he now doesn’t get to have. His time will be even shorter with her now with both him and Mystery going after Jaewon tonight.

Everything the building they are met with a member of their own staff. He looks nervous as he apologizes. Rambling on and on about how they had missed the invitation and had to do it now.

They don’t really respond only starting at him as they continue to make their way through the building. Soon met by one of the hosts. I recognized her as Yoomi. Also knows as the Queen of cozy late-morning talks.

“Joeun achimimnida, Baby-ssi, Mystery-ssi,” she greets enthusiastically. “Thank you so much for joining us on the radio today!”

“Annyeonghaseyo,” we greet them a respectful bow. The two painted fake smiles on their faces.

“Oh, is this who I think it is?” her eyes find me. “Y/n, the one who stole everyone’s heart!” her excitement seems to grow to the point I subconsciously stand closer to Mystery. Not used to this kind of attention from strangers.

“Hello,” I wave awkwardly, voice quiet. Mystery turns to me arm subtly wrapping around my waist. It’s just a touch yet a sense of calm washes over me.

“What brings you here?”

“Oh, I’m just here to support my sunbaes,” I say honestly.

“You can join them,” her enthusiasm only makes me stress more. Her co-host Haemin joins the conversation just then.

“Annyeong,” he greets casually.

“Hae, don’t you think Y/n should join them for our segment?” Yoomi pulls on his arm like it’s the best idea she’s ever had ant his need to happen.

“A-annyo,” I wave my hands like I’m pleading but they either don’t care or don’t notice.

“One moment,” Baby cuts their conversation. taking my arm the three of us go back intot he empty hall. “Take a breath,” his voice isn’t stern, it’s gentle, soft. His eyes scanning my face with concern.

“Why do they want me to join?” I ask expecting them to not have an answer. “I’m a nobody,” my breathing hasn’t gotten any better even with me intaking puffs of air. All I want is for one of them, or both of them to encage me.

It’s like they can read my thoughts. Mystery turns me to him, pulling me into a tight grounding hug. My head tucked safely into his chest.

Slowly my breathing returns to it’s normal pace, but I don’t leave Mystery’s embrace just yet.

“You’re not a nobody anymore,” Mystery’s soft voice breaks the silence that surrounded us. The way he says nobody sounds like he never thought I was one.

“What do you mean?”

“Look,” I turn in Mystery’s hold looking at Baby’s phone. “It's my Weverse account, which last I checked had about a thousand members. Now it nearly has a million members. No where near theirs but still. I stood shell shocked for a moment. “These fans want to get to know you,” my eyes meet his. Mine filled with uncertainty and anxiety, his filled with adoration and support.

They didn’t want cause her more stress, but they knew that getting her on this show. Even if they didn’t want to themselves, meant she would get more support from fans. Make them fall in love with her just like they did, but never more then them. They would never be able to love her more than they did.

“This would be the perfect opportunity to do just that,” Mystery adds, squeezing me gently. “Besides, it won’t be as boring anymore if you’re there with us,” turning my head to look at him, I find a smirk playing on his lips.

“Alright, I’ll do it, but promise me one thing.”

“Anything,” the sound of their voices in sync send flutter to my stomach. Stop it!

“I’ve never done a radio interview before,” I admit. “Please make sure I don’t say anything I’m not supposed to.”

“Of course, yeobo,” Baby packs my cheek.

Before we started a picture was taken of the three of us with the two hosts. Reluctantly, I was placed in the middle. Haemin’s arm around my waist while Yoomi, almost clung to Baby. Mystery next to Haemin with his usually stoic face, but it felt darker being close to him.

They posted the picture to all Maju FM’s socials. My phone dinged with the notification form the tags. Which reminded me to put it on vibrate for now.

Tune in at Maju FM for a surprise guest! Not only Baby and Mystery will be joining us int he segment of ‘WHO ARE YOU!’. Recent award winning Y/n will be there too! Time to find out more about this diamond in the rough idol!

Now we were sat in the actual studio. Baby sat to my right, Mystery to my left. I had expected the room to look more… serious? Instead, we were sat on a comfortable couch which was decorated with lots of fluffy pillows and blankets. Mystery had immediately thrown a blanket over our legs. I wasn’t really sure why, maybe because it was the tiniest bit chilly? My shorts covered me well enough, I think?

The hosts sat on their own soft love seats. Legs pulled up next to them. Yoomi had a blanket across her legs. An adorable tea set beside her on a small round table the height of the arm rest. We had three similar tables, one a little more to the right of me and one on either side of the couch. Each containing the drink we asked for plus a water bottle.

Mics positioned in front of all of us, checked and ready to go. A bright bubbly jingle plays with a sparkle chime.

“Everyone, it’s that time again! The segment you’ve all been waiting for!” Yoomi starts off loud and excited as she always does.

“WHO~ ARE~ YOU~!” Haemin joins Yoomi for the chaotic almost game show like intro.

“This segment is where we meet the idols we love as who they really are,” Yoomi explains for any new listeners. “And today’s guests? We’ve hit the absolute jackpot! How is this even real?”

“You might have already seen on our socials, but dear listeners we are so excited to introduce to you,” Haemin pauses dramatically. “Baby and Mystery, the two Saja Boys that always keep you guessing. Will we get to know more today!” the two only say a hello, not acknowledging whether they’ll share anything or not before letting Haemin continue. “And an unexpected but very much welcome guest. The one I know a lot of you have been dying to know more about! It’s Y/n~!” I say a polite hello a little overwhelmed with their excitement.

“All three of you, welcome!” Yoomi finishes, a lot calmer now, though the excited smile doesn’t leave her face.

“Let’s start with Baby and Mystery,” Haemin says, relief washing over me. “We’re honored to have you join us.”

Baby spoke first low and even. “Thanks for having us,” but there was no sincerity in his voice. Mystery only hmm’ed in acknowledgement.

“We know you’re not big on interviews,” Yoomi said lightly. It was true. They enjoyed game shows more. But even then they weren’t the most talkative. Only talking when they had to or addressed by their band mates. Plus it usually involved less talking about themselves. “So we’ll keep this easy. How are things right now, musically? What are you working on?”

“Studio work mostly,” Mystery answered with a shrug. “Filming for a music video along with working on new songs,” Baby didn’t add anything but Haemin still turned to him.

“Same for you?”

“Pretty much,” he shrugs. “We just finished our national tour, so we have a bit more free time at the moment.”

They continue to ask them questions, neither of them able to get so much as a chuckle out of them. All serious nearly one word answers.

That’s when I felt it. The fabric of the blanket moved. Barely noticeable with the way I had my arms resting on my legs. The hosts certain didn’t notice. Baby’s hand found my thigh first. Fingers firm around the skin of my upper thigh. Thumb rubbing slow grounding circles. Mystery’s hand joined soon after on my other thigh. Fingers curling around the curve of my thigh. Silent, solid. But there loud and clear. Both possessive in their own way.

Their faces betrayed nothing when I looked at them. Their touch making me almost forget where we were. Pulled back to reality when Yoomi’s voice booms again.

“And now…” Yoomi turned her attention fully on me. “The one we really can’t belief is here. Y/n we are so glad to have you here! How are you?”

I straightened stiffly, nervous. Both hands squeeze my thighs once grounding me. Calming my nervous a bit. “Thank you for having me, especially with no notice,” I reply awkwardly. “I’m alright… a bit nervous, I must admit,” a quiet self deprecating laugh escaping my lips.

“Why is that?” Haemin asks curiously.

“Oh well… I’ve never been interviewed before,” I answer honestly. It was true. I’ve been an idol for three years now. 0 interviews. “So, it’s a bit nerve wrecking, ‘cause I have no idea what you’re going to ask me.”

“Don’t worry, Y/n,” Haemin said, voice warm sending a wink my way. Neither Baby nor Mystery seemed to like that, If the way their grip on my thighs seemed to tighten was anything to go by. “We’ll be gentle with you,” that made Mystery shift, which might not seem significant, but this man was practically a statue. Why did he not like Haemin?

“Thank you,” a gentle smile curves my lips. “I appreciate that,” Baby’s fingers curled just a bit tighter around my thigh. It was possessive yes, but it conveyed that he was there for me. They both were.

“Let’s just jump right in, shall we?” Haemin said taking a quick sip of his coffee. “A lot of people don’t know anything about you. You practically shot up in popularity after the Kpop Rising Stars Awards last weekend. Which we will come back to, but for now… Tell us about you. Who is Y/n? How long have you been in the industry?”

That question felt heavier than it sounded. My fingers fidget nervously above the blanket. Both hands seem to gravitate towards mine. Letting me know it’s okay to take my time.

“That’s true,” I answer softly. “I am pleasantly surprised to have gained more fans since then,” I took a breath to steady myself and allow myself a moment to think. “I am Y/n, originally from Jeollanam-do and 23 years old. I came to Seoul when I was fifteen. My parents didn’t agree with me, but they let me go anyway. I entered traineeship under Luminara Entertainment, who gave me an idol contract five years later.”

“Wow, that’s already quite the journey,” Yoomi murmured. “What’s it like under Luminara Entertainment?” I didn’t realize I started grimacing until Haemin chuckled.

“Not that great?” he asks.

“Well…” I shift awkwardly. I probably shouldn’t trash talk the label, but I’m no longer with them. “I can’t speak for everyone,” I preface. “But yeah. My experience wasn’t the best-”

“Wasn’t?” Yoomi cuts me off. I miss the way Mystery’s hidden gaze meets Yoomi. Glaring daggers at the interruption. Though Yoomi either doesn’t notice either or isn’t bothered. “As in… you’re not signed with them anymore?”

“No,” I reply a smile returning to my face. “I’m currently signed with Honmoon Entertainment.”

“Ah, so now you get to play with the big ones,” Haemin grinned. “Huntr/x and the Saja Boys! What’s that like?”

“Well I see them a lot more than I expected,” deciding not to share that I live with Huntr/x. “I obviously knew of them before, but I only first met them just last weekend. It was surreal, honestly,” I chuckle. “I mean I was just a nob-”

“You weren’t just a nobody,” Baby said quietly, but loud enough to silence the room. Caught off guard by the calm firmness in his tone. He didn’t look at me, nor at the hosts. He just spoke like it was factual and no one could tell him otherwise. Not even me.

Yoomi blinked, surprised. “Right… So-so you met them at the award show?”

I nod. “Yeah, that was the first time. I didn’t expect anything, let alone their support. They didn’t owe me anything. But they helped, both with my nerves and getting the win. Which I wouldn’t have won without them,” I send an appreciative smile to both of them.

“They didn’t know you and still helped?” Yoomi tilts her head. “Why was that?” she turns to flick her eyes between Mystery and Baby.

“We knew her song,” Mystery spoke voice low and composed. “But didn’t know it belonged to her,” his answer seemed to confuse the hosts as they shared a look with each other, brows furrowed.

“Right. Apparently, Luminara had shown my song around to other artists, including them. To sell it, I guess? I didn’t even know. They had turned it down, but… they remembered.”

There was a pause, heavy. Silent, with gentle squeezes of their hands in support.

“When we got shown the demo,” Baby starts softly. His eyes on me. “We collectively decided it belonged to the beautiful voice it was sung by,” the intensity of his eyes and words caused a flush to fill my cheeks.

“We were never told who it actually belonged to but we kept the demo. Hoping that one day we would find out who it belonged to,” Mystery adds a rarely seen soft smile on his lips, directed at me. And only me.

“Hearing that from them,” a sigh of appreciation leaves my lips. My hands subtly covering theirs above the blanket. “Meant more to me than they know.”

“That must have been hard to find out, though,” Haemin frowned.

“It was. I worked on that song for ages. It’s about me. My pain. And they showed it off behind my back.”

“Is that why you left Luminara?”

I couldn’t stop the huffed laugh, with frustration running through me like a rollercoaster. “I didn’t leave. They dropped me. Two days ago, with a deadline of twenty-four hours to vacate the dorms. No real explanation.”

“What!?”

“That’s insane!”

“But I’m better off now,” a soft smile playing on my lips. “I get treated well at Honmoon. And get the support of a lifetime from Huntr/x and the Saja Boys,” eyes lowering a bit. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without them,” both their fingers caress my skin tenderly.

Getting back to Honmoon tower, I lean against Mystery, socially exhausted. “Did I do okay?” I ask quietly as we enter the elevator. Baby holds a pass to the sensor just below the buttons inside. Unlocking two additional numbers which I recognize as both their floor and the Huntr/x floor.

“You did great,” Mystery spoke softly, leaving a lingering peck on the top of my head. Baby steps next to me after pressing their floor. Gently taking my hand, lifting it to his face. Gently pecking the back of my hand before lowering our hands back down. Keeping my hand in his.

My phone had been vibrating none stop since the segment aired. But I have been too scared to look at it. Afraid of what my new fans though of me. I might just give my phone to them so I don’t have to see it first hand.

The elevator opens with a soft chime, I follow them out, bending to take off my shoes. Only Mystery is quicker. On one knee one hand tapping my ankle, silently telling me to lift it. Baby is beside me still, holding me steady now as Mystery removes my shoes. Neatly placing them on the shoe rack right in front of us.

“Thank you,” I murmur, blush already flushing my cheeks. Baby pecks my cheek before letting go of me and taking off his own shoes. Not wanting to overstep I wait for both to move further into the apartment. The first thing I notice was the space. It’s pretty similar to the Huntr/x apartment in size.

High ceilings, sleek lines, rich brown hardwood floors. Windows stretched all the outer walls. Floor to ceiling, showing the Seoul skyline beautifully.

Everything looked expensive. The wall next to the elevator was covered with awards they had won. Which makes me wonder where I actually left mine. A little to the left stood a black marble table with comfortable looking black leather chairs, fit for ten people.

Further left, just around the corner from the entrance sat an extremely large kitchen. L shaped with a separate five seater island. Black and marble seems to be the theme here. Black marble counter tops, black cabinets top and bottom with gold accents. TWO REFRIDGERATORS!? I mean, I guess they are five people. Men no less, I guess they eat a lot.

A grand piano stood alone in the center of the sunken living room. Beautiful maroon red on a cream colored rug, lights of different sizes hang above it. Did all suites have a grand piano? To the left a half moon leather couch positioned in front of a TV that is suspended by the ceiling, in front of the large curved windows. Two golden floor lamps on either side of the couch. The rug beneath it looked soft to the touch, black and white stripes almost like a zebra. But the spaces was bigger between stripes. A round coffee table with a white marble top.

Just next to the dining table was a small sitting area with a couch and small book cases holden more books than I expected. Gentle lighting hanging above it.

And to my surprise a bar on the right side of the Piano. I wonder what they store there. Do they drink often or did it come with the apartment without their input?

It felt like them, dark, effortlessly luxurious. Some how it felt like they knew how to host, how to spoil, how to take care of someone without ever saying a word. Something Mystery and Baby were most definitely good at. If how they worked together without communication just to take my shoes off was anything to go by.

Mystery guided me to the black leather couch while I still looked around, amazed. He sat down first and before I could even think about sitting down next to him. He pulled me into his lap.

A blush gracing my cheeks in surprise. He silently pulls my legs onto the couch. Making me sit side ways, but makes sure I can lean against him. My head leaning against his shoulder both his arms wrapped around me. His face buried in my hair.

He takes a deep breath which surprises me. But I don't say anything about it as it seems to calm whatever it was that was stirring inside him.

"I don't like how Haemin talked to you,” his voice lower than normal. I know exactly what he's talking about too.

"Me neither," Baby appears with drinks for the three of us and a platter which held small snacks. He hands me the platter and places the drinks on the table, before lifting my legs in the air. Mystery making sure I don’t fall. Baby sits down close to Mystery and gently lowers my legs back down. His hand stays on my leg with a possessive yet gentle grip. "I- I’m sure he was just trying to be nice,” I try to excuse his behavior.

I was waiting in the hall while mystery went to use the bathroom and Baby went to talk to their staff member about the sudden interview. He was just a little ways away. I could just see his minty blue hair.

"Hey,” a voice called smoothly from the hall to my right. I turn to see Haemin slip out of one of the doors. A charming grin on his face

"Hi,” I greet politely. His eyes skimmed over me slowly as he walked closer.

"I can't lie, I wasn't expecting you to be that... composed. Or this pretty,” was that meant to be compliment? His eyes scan me again making a shiver of discomfort run down my spine. He steps even closer, entering my personal bubble. "You got plans tonight?"

What? What is going on?

"I- I do, actually,” I answer honestly. Not that I would have told him the truth If I didn't have plans.

In my peripheral vision, I see Mystery and Baby. They are not walking towards us. Just quietly observing.

"Too bad," Haemin's smirk flickers for a second. "I think we could have had a lot of fun," that makes me take a half step back. Subtle but not obvious. "You Know, you're kind of dangerous,” my brows rise.

“Dangerous?"

"Yeah,” he grins like he said something clever. "Sweet voice, gentle eyes. That combo get's stuck in a guys head.”

"Good thing it was just Radio,” I mutter while my skin gets itchier the longer I talk to him. He chuckles, still confident.

"Still leaves a lot to the imagination,” before I could decide how to respond, I caught a subtle shift in the air. Like magnets Baby and Mystery got closer like a warning, unamused by Haemin's actions. His eyes flicker to the two guard dogs. His grin dimming like he finally realized this wasn't going anywhere. "Anyway," he backs off with a shrug. “Don't be a stranger.”

“But I am thankful that you guys were there,” I thank them pecking Mystery’s cheek. Leaning forward, careful of the platter and pull Baby’s face closer, pecking his cheek too.

They are gentle, harmless like when they always peck my cheeks. Their presence is warm, Mystery's arm around me pulls a little tighter, grounding me against him. Baby’s hand slides from my shin to my bare thigh. Fingers curling possessively which makes my stomach flutter.

I shouldn’t feel this. Shouldn’t want this but I do. They all make me feel things I’ve never felt before. But… Zoey. We never discussed…, guilt washes over me.

But this… it doesn’t feel wrong. It’s dangerously magnetic, unreal and just… right.

Baby leans in, his voice a breath across my face. “That all we get, yeobo?” the sound of his voice and the look on his face makes me flush red.

“It’s all it should be,” my voice trembling, just barely a whisper. Mystery shifts below me, forehead brushing against my temple, his lips gracing the skin along my jaw.

“Then why do you look like you want more, ippeuni?” a gasp escapes unable to answer. I can’t cause I do want more but I shouldn’t. And I hate myself for it.

My pulse races as Baby’s thumb starts moving in slow circles against my thigh. The warmth of his touch crawls up my skin. I shouldn’t let it get to me. Shouldn’t let it pull me in.

But instead… I lean into it. I kiss Mystery first, slow and uncertain. Yet no longer wanting to pretend I don’t feel this. His lips patient, surprisingly gentle. His hand cups my cheek while the other pulls me closer by my waist.

His lips move against mine with unspoken desperation. There was a message behind it. something I couldn’t figure out. My hands find his chest, fisting the fabric of his sleeveless sweater. A need to get closer , something to keep me grounded.

He tasted like mint and quiet danger. The danger not directed at me, it felt protective instead. Comfort and chaos keeping me from pulling away. Not that I wanted to in the first place.

By the time I pulled away, my heart hammered in my chest, breath gone. He places another gentle peck to my slightly swollen lips. Movement brining my attention to Baby. His eyes on me as he blindly places the untouched platter on the coffee table.

His hand replaces Mystery’s place, cupping my face, a gentle swipe of his thumb across my cheek. His eyes flicker between mine and my lips. Pulling me in as he leans in. His lips meet mine softly, like I’m a breakable piece of porcelain.

It’s so soft I nearly whimper wanting more. His hand slides to the side of my neck, thumb brushing my throat dangerously as he pressed deeper into the kiss. Every movement of his lips was a new whisper. I’ve got you. I want you. You’re ours.

When I finally pulled away my lips tingled, my head light as I sank deeper into Mystery’s embrace. I didn’t even open my eyes yet. Just breathed and let myself feel in the quiet of their presence.

// You're Ours Masterlist // Previous // Part Nine // Next //

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[humanjarvis]

watch for a while

synopsis: caleb won’t let you take care of him, but he will let you watch. 

tags: masturbation, he uses his bionic arm to pretend it’s you, heavy scent kink, he is weird, panty sniffing/licking, exhibitionism, voyeurism, fake bondage (really tight bedsheets), finger sucking pairing: caleb x fem reader word count: 1.6k

a/n: i had no intention of writing about underwear again but i saw something related in a show and the parasite took over my brain

“I’m so tired,” you moan, trudging into the kitchen and headbutting Caleb's broad back. 

A chuckle flows through him, mixing with the sound of a knife chopping through fresh fruit. “I told you not to stay up all night. But did you listen? No,” he drawls. “Every time, it’s always ‘Caleb doesn’t know anything,’ ‘Caleb’s so strict,’ ‘I can do what I want.’ How’s that workin’ out for you?” 

Grunting, you poke his spine and turn him to face you, revealing his teasing grin. “Today’s my day off! I had to make the most of it.”

“If ‘making the most of it’ means wakin’ up at noon. Here,” he offers, holding out a plump grape. “Get some water, too. I’ve heard binging a show for 8 hours straight causes dehydration.” 

“Feed it to me. Too lazy,” you mumble, parting your lips to give him access. 

A tinge of pink blooms across his cheeks, but he clears his throat resolutely. “M’kay. Hold still.” Stepping closer, he gently lays the fruit on the pad of your tongue, chest constricting when your tired eyes sparkle up at him. But before he can retreat, you close your mouth around his fingers, suckling and releasing them with a cheeky pop. 

Giggling at his baffled expression, you chew and swallow so you can speak again. “Thank you,” you sing, standing on your tiptoes to kiss the corner of his lips. “I feel better already.”

Hoping he’ll let your prank slide without taking revenge, you nuzzle into his chest, pressing another kiss to his heartbeat. But as you sidle up to him, something hard and heavy brushes against your lower belly. 

Your head snaps down before he can stop it, and a laugh bubbles out before you can stop it. “Seriously? Just from that?” 

Caleb scoffs, but his darkening blush betrays him. “You caught me off guard. You weren’t playing fair.” 

“Aw,” you pout, reaching up to pinch his flushed cheek. “I didn’t know there were rules right now, I’m sorry. Why don’t I help you fix it?” Even through his clothes, your hand leaves a burning trail down his abdomen, but he captures it before it can claim its prize. 

“No,” he says firmly, eyes narrowing into slits. “You’re tired, remember?” 

You grin at his stern refusal. “I’m more than awake now, I think.”  

Grimacing, he tightens his grip and lifts your hand from his body. “You showered when you woke up, right? You’re already clean, and you go back to work tomorrow. I’ll take care of it myself, just…go rest.” 

The pout on your face is real, now. You scan his face, taking a cautious step back. “You don’t want me to touch you?”

His eyes widen in guilty understanding. Shaking his head, he follows you and lifts your chin. “What I want and what you need are two different things. How could I be the reason you’re fallin’ asleep at work tomorrow?” 

“But what about what I want?” you mutter, furrowing your brow in disappointment. “I want to help.” 

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “You don’t have to—”

“Want to.”

His eyes travel down your frame, freshly showered and clad in clean pajamas. What a pity it’d be to ruin them. “Fine. Just…let me think.”

Moments later, Caleb had gathered you in his arms and made the short trip to your bedroom, shifting your weight to one side so he could pull your sheets back with the other. He’d laid you down gently, like a fragile flower, and tucked you in against the headboard—tight, so you couldn't slip out from under the covers without him noticing.

And there you sit, twiddling your thumbs as he rifles through your laundry. What is he looking for? 

A flash of a familiar pattern catches your attention. He’s turned to his side, but you can see how he’s looped the fabric through his fingers, holding it with a wicked sort of reverence. He stretches the thin cotton in his hands, and you gulp. 

“I wore those to the gym yesterday.” Your voice is barely a whisper. 

“I know.” 

He’d fished them out with confidence. As if he’d done this before. 

You don’t have long to dwell before he’s dragging your desk chair to your bedside, letting the sky blue fabric fall across his lap as he takes a seat. Your eyes lock for a moment, electricity crackling in the air, and something in your gaze begs him to keep going. 

Always obliging, he slips a hand under his sweatpants. The outline of his knuckles pokes through the material, and the way they flex around his length makes you shudder with anticipation. 

You’re not left waiting long. His cock is red and angry in the cool air, translucent fluid spilling from the swollen tip. He palms the base gingerly, as if his desire is hot to the touch. 

In bed, your hands are balled into eager fists. 

When he manages to speak, his voice is hoarse. Like he’s forcing it out, like he’s seconds from unraveling. “You can tell me to stop, if…”

“I want to watch.”

He snaps his eyes shut, failing to suppress the moan that falls from his lips. When he blinks them back open, their only focus is you. 

His chest heaves as he holds your gaze, his ragged breaths filling the room as your panties return to his fingers. He only looks away when he lifts them to his face—he has to, with the way his eyes roll back.

Just a few feet out of reach, Caleb inhales long and deep, chest expanding as he fills himself with your scent. Below, he drags his palm over the veins of his cock, tugging roughly with his right arm.

He can’t feel himself that way, can he? Unless…

Unless he’s pretending it’s you. 

Your breath hitches, but you’re pulled from your thoughts by a soft groan. 

The sight before you is obscene. Caleb, drunk on your scent, precum dribbling from his flushed tip. His hips buck into his hand from the thrill of your lingering essence. 

All while you’re laid up in bed like a princess. 

Slick pools around your heated center. Mindlessly, you squirm under the covers, only thinking of how badly you want to feel him. “Let me help. Please.”

He moves the fabric just slightly. Still close, but enough for his refusal to ring clear. “Stay right there, all pretty for me,” he breathes, slowing his desperate strokes to a lazy pace. “You don’t have to lift a finger. Look at what you do to me—this is more than enough. Just stay there, baby. Stay still and watch me.” 

Scrambling for a rebuttal, you stammer in protest. “But you…i-it’s not the same. It can’t be. It can’t feel as good without me, please.” 

“You’re here with me, baby,” he soothes, giving himself a gentle squeeze. “Can almost taste you. Wanna see?”

Sunset irises trained on yours, he shifts your panties in his hand, exposing the strip that’d covered your pussy just hours ago. His pink tongue peeking out is your only warning. 

With a lewd groan, he licks a slow stripe up the soiled fabric, his filthy stare binding you further to the bed. 

A whimper rips from your throat as you squeeze your thighs together. “Caleb—”

“Hmm?” His eyes flutter closed with a blissed-out chuckle, and he sucks the cotton into his mouth. His cock, engorged and begging for release, twitches under his firm grip. 

Your heart nearly bursts from how much you need him. Taking advantage of his distraction, you almost wriggle free unnoticed, but the loosening of the blanket makes a soft rustling sound. 

Burning eyes snap open and lock onto yours. “Don’t move.” 

Your body tenses as you debate disobeying him. How easy it’d be to kick free from the rest of the covers, rushing over and taking him into your mouth. 

Somewhere in your deliberation, he’d begun circling his thumb around his tip, hissing at the agonizing sensitivity. He draws in a staggered breath. “You want me to finish, yeah? Won’t be able to if you move. Need to watch you watchin’ me,” he murmurs, trembling as his peak nears. “You want to help me? Then stay.” 

Desperate authority laces his voice, as if he’s commanding you to send him over the edge. And when you sigh your relent and sink back under the sheets, settling your longing gaze on his jerking hips, you know you’ve lost. 

Moaning his approval, he shifts your panties into his busy hand, wrapping them around his spasming cock with two rough, final strokes. Thick spurts land on the light blue fabric, staining it further in a milky white. You whine at the waste, grieving how good it’d feel inside you. 

For a second, his head lolls back while he catches his breath. Then, half-lidded eyes search your quivering form, relief and a slight smirk dawning on his sweat-slick face. Slowly, he tucks himself back in, chuckling when you lurch forward in protest, and heads to the bathroom to clean himself.

The whole time the shower runs, you're rubbing your thighs together under the blanket. 

He returns with a satisfied smile and a change of sweats, his dog tag dangling over his bare chest. But where Caleb is sated, you’re anything but. 

You’re on him as soon as he crawls in beside you, panting and pawing at his exposed skin. 

“Hmm? What is it?” he asks, rubbing soothing circles into your hips. 

“I know…” You swallow. “I know you wouldn't let me help you. But, um…maybe you could help me, now?”

[writtencrone]

"Your husband knows about me, intimately."

Yandere! Dilf x bttm male reader

You had always assumed your sugar mommy was either single or had a very free relationship with her husband. You learn this isn't the case after you meet a man at a bar, and find that he knows more about you than you'd like.

Anal sex, anal fingering, rough sex, you break the bed on this one, stalking, cum tribute, possessive behaviour, cheating, infedility, mentions of m/f sex but never fully described because I'm lazy!

“Your husband knows about us,” you say.

You're sitting across from her in her tea room, and she's just served you some rare yellow tea (‘you look so pale, darling’). Your relationship with Claudia was not vague, it was defined and signed. You'd be her companion in moments like these, as usual after you've fucked and reached mutal bliss for however long or little Claudia wants. In return you were allowed a fixed stipend that covered all your living costs and then some.

You had been a host before, that's how you met this elegant and beautiful woman, but Claudia always liked to possess things. So she approached you with this contract. The idea of being a thing was less threatening when you could also afford other nice things.

“Yes, I suppose he does,” Claudia says, lounging in her afterglow. She wore only a silken robe, and you your boxers

“He's not… upset?” You ask, feeling a bead of sweat roll down your spine.

Claudia rolls her eyes. “Just drink your tea, darling. Charles is only upset when business is bad.”

Ofcourse, before this, you had met Charles – not knowing he was the Charles. Now you found yourself metaphorically wedged between these two wealthy sycophants.

About a week ago…

Yandere! Dilf who… You meet at a bar one night with your friends. You peel off from the group to sit and talk with the handsome older man sat in a booth by himself. He's hard to talk to at first, withdrawn. Eventually, you coax him to open up, buying him a drink and leaning in closely – it reminds you of your days working as a host. The satisfaction of earning a regular customer.

Yandere! Dilf who… Tell you his wife is cheating on him, and you sympathise with him. Nevermind the fact your sugar mommy is a married woman, because that's different . You assume your sugar mommy (lady, as she prefers it) has some sort of agreement with her husband, and never questioned it further. You brought him another drink, nodded and put your hand on his as he vented about years of an unsatisfactory marriage.

Yandere! Dilf who… When you place your hand on his thigh, leaning in closely. You know he's hard, You ask if he wants revenge, your lips ghosting over his. He says he just wants you.

Yandere! Dilf who… Drives you to his penthouse with a hand on your thigh, you lean across the space, talking, slightly tipsy. When you get home you both fumble in the dark, you ask for light but he says no – not until you're in the bedroom. You pout and ask him why he doesn't want to see you, he silences you a kiss and half your clothes are off by the time the back of your knees hit the bed.

Yandere! Dilf who… guides to your knees with his big hands, calloused yet surprisingly soft. You undo his belt and zipper, and he makes a joke about how every silver fox has a silver tail when you oggle at the silver streaked in his pubic hair. You had to turn your head into his thigh as you stifled a slight laugh, not because it's funny but because it is so bad. He instructs you to stand, and puts down a pillow for you to kneel on. It was a mercy, because you were there a while.

Yandere! Dilf who… moans and groans, rocking his hips into your mouth. You hollow your cheeks and suck, pulling yourself off his dick to run your tongue down his entire length and swipe across his balls. Before immediately putting it back in your mouth and taking it to the hilt, his pubic hairs were ticklish against your face as you deep throated him. He moaned, his hands tangling in your hair. You started to choke around him, the fluttering of your throat so euphoric he released down your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, spots danced across your vision - death by dick?

Yandere! Dilf who…pulls you off leisurely, admiring how the mix of semen and spit connect your lips to his departing tip. He holds you there, head tilted back as you gulp for air.

“I hope your appetite isn't ruined,” he says, and oh how he stares down at you. You feel dissected.

“I'm just getting started.”

Yandere!Dilf who… fingers you for a horrible amount of time. He works you open leisurely, cooing about how good you'll look on his cock whilst a finger curls against your prostrate. You whine, and by the end of it you're taking three fingers with ease.

“That was quicker than I thought,” his gravelly voice remarks, hitching one of your legs over his shoulder. He presses a kiss to the ankle, and you actually blush. “I suppose you have experience in this as well, I almost forgot.”

Before you can ask ‘hey what do you mean by that. Your dick was ticking my lungs areoli just a minute ago—’ followed quickly by ‘wait aren't areola my nipples?’ he buries himself in you in a brutal snap of his snap.

Your mouth is agape in a silent scream, drifting off into a whine as you bury your head into the pillows, your legs were kicking uselessly as your body was catching up the sensation of fullness.

Yandere! Dilf who… fucks you tenderly then brutally, holding you close then pinning you down, reducing you to a creature halfway to grief out of how much it was, and halfway to total bliss out of how good it was.

The lewd sounds of skin against skin overpowered your cries, your wanton moans.

Yandere! Dilf who… is an attentive lover, which makes him all the more crueler when he knows you're reaching out to hold him, to find some leverage as he plowed you into the mattress, and he denies you with a tsk. Your knees are by your shoulders and your feet somewhere higher as he finds leverage in this position where you can't cover yourself – can't flee.

You whimper and fist at the sheets, the pillows tossed to the ground after you tried to hide in them. You were drooling, weeping, flushed red and your eyes rolled back into your head as you came with a shout. He lifts your hips higher, thrusts deeper, and beneath you the creaking bed cracks once and for all. You yelp as a sudden dip forms…

You guys broke the bed.

When he finishes you feel his warmth pool in your gut like a match, you let out a whine when he pulls out – half hard.

“We're not done just yet.”

Yandere! Dilf who… is good at after care. He cleans you up, inspects the bites he left on you and confirms none of them broke skin (“A shame.”), carries you limp in his arms to the washroom. He lathers you, holds you. He doesn't demand more, and when you lay down on his bed you look at him, a little nervous, and ask.

“Do you want me to stay?”

He tilts his head to the side.

“What ever made you think I'd want you to leave?”

You let yourself be gathered into his arms, you breathe in his expensive body wash and fall asleep like that. Sandalwood and citrus notes on your mind.

Yandere! Dilf who… doesn't wake up first. You slip out of his arms and drape a robe around yourself, stumbling out of the room quietly whilst picking up your clothes. Your lower back is aching, but it's lost in all the hickeys that crown your collarbone. You'd almost think him a vampire for how much he'd latch onto you.

Yandere! Dilf who… left the room to his study unlocked, and you stumble in whilst getting dressed. His laptop is sat open and you tentatively press the space bar, only for it to light up and go immediately to his desktop (he didn't set a password?).

What catches your eye is an email notification with your name in the subject. Your full name.

‘On the matter regarding L/n, F/n.’

Your hands shake as you click on it, settling at the edge of the plush seat. What you find is a resignation from a private investigator, citing that the requests had gotten too unethical to continue.

You find an email thread 79 emails long. It starts with an image of you and Claudia after having sex, your hair wild from where he ran his hands through it. You're smiling at something she said - you remember this day.

Then it's your name, your social security number, your address, your parents address, the addresses of the schools you attended. Your stomach drops as you scroll and watch as Charles - now you know that he's that Charles - curated an intricate portrait of your life. Of the bars you frequented.

Then it's pictures, so many pictures. The final request was to put cameras in various rooms of your house, including your shower, before the PI resigned.

You scramble through his desks, trying to find something. A pen, a phone, something.

You find a photo of yourself, taken candidly whilst you were on the beach. Its sticky and the paper is crinkled - it's a cum tribute. You gag, rolling your chair away from the desk only to bump into…

Yandere! Dilf who… wraps his arms around you, locking you in that chair.

“I never quite figured out how to set a password,” he sighs, his breath is minty. Your mouth is dry. “Though, I suppose I didn't expect company so soon.”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek and you felt his teeth.

“You're Claudia's husband,” you remark, dryly.

“And you're her boyfriend. Very liberal of her to allow you to see other partners, probably the only liberal thing about her.”

He shrugs, and pulls away.

“ I should go home,” You say around the lump in your throat.

“Of course,” he purrs, sauntering away. “I did hope you'd stay for brunch, but I suppose your appetite has been ruined.”

He smiles, studying you. Alight with horror and sat in his seat wearing basically nothing.

“I'll see you around.”

You stumble out of the apartment, your clothes the wrong way around.

[supershithits]

i never was the good samaritan

clark kent (superman 2025) x f!reader

anon’s ask: “imagine him [clark] with literally polar opposite black cat. but they match so well.”

summary: a stupid bet between two coworkers with allegedly opposite morals. if all’s fair in love, war, and corporate life, then who’s willing to be kinder for a month?

word count: 13k

warnings/tags: +18 mdni, fluff, comfort and angst at times, banter, feels, grumpy!reader x sunshine!clark, enemies/coworkers to lovers, kind of jealous!clark if you squint, sort of slow-burn office romance, dramatic love confessions bc i love them, miscommunication, tiny mention of reader’s hair, making out, dry humping, happy ending.

a/n: first of all, I wanted to thank you for all the support on my recent post !!! i feel like this is kind of a disaster because i finished it using the last two brain cells i had left, so if you come across shitty writing, please just nod along. anyway, i really hope you enjoy it. i’d love to know your thoughts on it. likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. and to the anon who shared this idea with me: THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! <333

The worst kind of days are usually preceded by rain.

That’s something a scientist might say, though you’re no scientist yourself. You’re a journalist; therefore, your profession has absolutely nothing to do with science. Either way, you’re pretty certain there must be at least one expert out there who would agree with you.

You had checked the weather app on your phone the night before, hoping that somehow, by the time morning came and you had to get ready for work, the weather would clear up and a warm beam of sunshine would follow you on your way to the office.

When your alarm goes off at 7:30 a.m., with sleep still blurring the edges of your sight, you notice the soft patter of droplets on your bedroom window, and you can already tell those gray clouds portend a series of unfortunate events that will unfold during this rainy Wednesday.

Rain is no good. For different reasons, listed down below:

a) You don’t own a car, nor do you know how to drive one.

b) The boots you were gifted on your last birthday, the ones you use for the days when the city feels underwater, are supposed to be water-resistant, though they’ve betrayed you on several occasions.

c) It’s only a matter of time before your hair swells up because of all the humidity.

The worst thing is that some people, other human beings who breathe the same air as you, seem to enjoy these days. For motives you’ll never be able to comprehend, they look forward to them, gushing about the apparent charm and appeal of drizzle. Perhaps the government could use that eagerness to spot potential future criminals.

Lazily, you pull on several layers of clothing: a plain t-shirt, a sweater, and your trench coat. You choose a darker pair of jeans so that any rain-soaked patches won’t make you look like you’ve peed yourself, which has happened before. The temperature has dropped drastically while you were sleeping, and now every room in your apartment feels cold and uninviting as you gather your things.

You know for a fact that the second you step out of this building, you’ll feel like absolute crap. But you can’t stay home and avoid your responsibilities, because it turns out you certainly enjoy having Wi-Fi and food on your stomach at the end of a long day.

And those are things you wouldn’t be able to afford if you didn’t work, because they cost money. Lots of it. So, in the end, you have no option left but to be a functional adult and go to work, contributing to the lovely city of Metropolis by writing articles for a living.

This doesn’t mean that you hate your job. In fact, you love it. You love writing, for it’s the only thing that’s stayed constant in your whole life ever since you were a kid.

The culprit for your attitude is the rain. It makes you insufferable to be around. You're no stranger to your own moods. You do realize rainy days turn you into someone more volatile.

Yet clear skies are no different. You’ve been in a mood for… forever, actually. For the past year, at least. That’s what Jimmy and Lois say. 

By the time you make it to the subway, the train you should’ve taken to be on time is already gone, your scarf smells funny, and Matthew’s standing there, just an inch away from your face.

Oh, good ol’ Matthew. A guy, maybe a couple of years older than you, who’s been trying to get your name, number, or even email address for the past few months. You see him every morning as you leave for work, and despite not succeeding in his task, he doesn’t seem to plan on giving up.

“Hi, beautiful.”

You glance to your left, not even bothering to turn your head to face him. “Matthew. If it isn’t another day of smelling your breath way too early in the morning.”

He ignores the part about his breath. Instead, he replies, “I remember telling you that you can just call me Matt.”

“That’s strange, because I remember telling you I’d never do that.”

It surprises you that he still thinks you’re playing hard to get, given it’s been four months and you’ve made it more than clear that you have no interest in him.

He grins, his hands in his pockets. “I don’t believe I’ll ever get your sense of humor.”

“Of course you won’t. It’s reserved for highly clever individuals.”

“Gosh, you’re so mean.” This time, he stares ahead, sighing. “Have I ever told you I’m a sucker for these kinds of days?”

One of your eyelids begins twitching. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“You don’t like the rain?” His eyes sparkle with what could be described as amusement. “You know, opposites attract. It’s just inevitable.”

This is the kind of interaction you’re forced to endure before you’ve even had breakfast. You wish for the next train to derail and hit you with all its might.

As you set foot in the Daily Planet’s lobby, the rain has evolved from harmless drizzle to complete downpour, the wind unhinged, having spent the last ten blocks trying to steal your umbrella from your own hands. It is now useless, along with your drenched coat and suspiciously squishy socks.

You’re the last one to manage to squeeze into the elevator, which is beyond packed. As you maneuver inside, you accidentally jab a woman’s leg with your umbrella handle, and she mutters something under her breath. Something that sounds a lot like a swear.

“Sorry,” you murmur, avoiding all possibilities of making eye contact with her, although you feel her unfaltering gaze the full thirty seconds it takes to reach your floor.

Holding your bag and umbrella to your chest, you make your way through the maze of desks, nodding your head at those who greet you. You peel off your coat, hanging it from the back of your chair, observing the tiny droplets that start to drip onto the carpet below. You search for your notebook, digging it out and letting out a breath of relief when you notice none of the pages have been damaged by water.

It’s only when you finally sit down that you let yourself close your eyes for a moment, folding your arms over your desk and resting your forehead against them. You can’t deny you feel miserable. You should’ve called in sick.

You feel the warmth of someone standing close to you, and you don’t need to look to know who it is. You’d recognize the scent of his cologne or the sound of his footsteps anywhere, though you really hope that doesn’t sound as weird out loud as it does in your head.

“Turn around, Kent. We’re closed today,” you mumble with your face still pressed to the desk, voice muffled into the crook of your arm.

“You look like you’ve just got out of the shower,” Clark shoots back, the faint hint of a smile in his tone.

That’s when you decide to stop hiding, straightening your back to squint up at him. You should’ve kept your head down: he looks perfect. His hair is neat, his suit unbothered by the rain. You huff when you notice your reflection on his glasses. “How are you… dry?”

“I used my umbrella. They do serve a purpose.”

“Well, mine—” you snap between gritted teeth, ducking under your desk to retrieve the ruined thing and holding it up to shove it into his face, “—has decided to stop functioning properly today.”

He lowers your hand, his forehead crinkling. “Have you been nice to him?”

“Him? Are you personifying my umbrella?”

“I have a spare at home. If you want it, I could bring it tomorrow,” he suggests, changing the subject, and he can’t quite look you in the eye without averting his gaze.

This is where you draw the line. Forcing yourself to act politely, you say, “Thank you, but I don’t need it. I’ll fix mine. I’m sure it’ll probably stop raining in a couple of hours.”

A crack of thunder rattles the windows. Behind you, Jimmy nearly jumps to his feet, startled, drawing in a long breath.

“You okay, buddy?” Clark asks.

“Sure,” Jimmy answers, tugging at his shirt collar. “I’ve never been better.”

Clark raises his eyebrows at him, not convinced, but chooses not to press him. He shifts his weight from one foot to another and clasps his hands behind his back, returning his focus to you. Sometimes, he stares at you in such a way that makes you feel you’re being examined under the lens of a microscope. “Have you already had breakfast?”

“No.”

“Want me to—”

You cut him off before he goes any further. “Clark, I’m fine. Save your kindness for someone who truly wants it.”

His lips form a straight line, and without saying anything else, he jams his hands into his front pockets, walking away to his own desk. Maybe the tone you used wasn’t the appropriate one, but shortly after, you shake that feeling of guilt off.

On nights when you can’t sleep, or on certain days when your eyes keep finding their way back to him when they shouldn’t, you often wonder how he can always seem willing to help. Is it performative? Would he like to be voted as the best employee of the century?

But deep down, you know the reason behind his infinite generosity. It has a name, which starts with an S and rhymes with man.

Let’s put a pin on that. You’ll get back to that later.

“You’re gonna turn that poor man into a villain,” Jimmy says, his voice barely above a whisper. You have to crane your neck to get a look at his face, and even so, you stifle a laugh at his expression. He seems genuinely worried. “I mean it. He’ll have an identity crisis, and it’ll be awful.”

“I think you forget he’s a grown man.” You flick your fingers across the keyboard, checking your inbox. “Don’t worry, Jimmy. He’ll survive.”

“You’re vile.”

You spin around in your chair, scoffing. “Come on! Me? Vile? For not worshipping the ground he walks on like everybody else?”

Jimmy throws his arms out, seemingly defeated. “That’s because he’s the nicest guy to ever exist!”

“I just don’t want him to be nice to me. That’s all.” You scrunch up your face, your jaw tightening. “I don’t hate him, but that doesn’t mean I have to like him.”

It’s hard to explain your relationship with Clark, especially to Jimmy, who’s been his best friend for a while and would go to the moon and back for him. He raises his palms, bowing his head. “I feel like a child of divorce.”

“What a weird use of that concept. We were never together.”

“Well, almost.”

“No.”

“Technically, you went on one date.”

Returning your attention to your computer, you rejoice without emotion, “Unlike him, I did show up to the restaurant.”

That appears to be enough to shut him up, and he goes back to work.

The rest of the day unfolds quite easily. Nothing remarkable happens, at least not until you’re on your lunch break, sipping from your water bottle as Lois helps you polish the wording on an article you’ve been working on for a week now. Without knowing when, you two had fallen into a routine where you became each other's proofreaders.

You’d started the draft on paper for some reason you can’t remember. She scribbles in the margins next to your older notes from days ago, biting the end of her pen as she frowns at one word you’ve underlined.

You’re about to finish your salad when something exciting finally occurs on this rainy Wednesday’s workday.

One of the interns is carrying what looks like an entire week’s worth of paper and folders to Perry’s office, and he’s aiming to do it in a single trip. You watch as the tower teeters dangerously, and then, since it was bound to happen, it collapses.

You can’t say you didn’t see that coming. Why didn’t he think twice before trying to carry a stack almost as tall as Clark?

It’s like conjuring him with a thought. One second, the mess exists, and the next, Clark’s kneeling beside the flustered intern, helping him collect the disaster, a gentle smile on his face. Chaos, you've noticed, seems to have a way of summoning him.

“I’m such an idiot,” the boy breathes, rising to his feet.

“Hey, no big deal,” Clark retorts, patting him on the back. “I’ve been on a good streak lately, but this happens to me weekly. Perry won’t mind as long as you get them to him in one piece.”

Clearly enamored with Clark, the intern nods fervently and hugs the papers to his chest before hurrying off and disappearing.

You finish chewing a particularly salty piece of lettuce, and afterwards, because you don’t always let your better judgment catch up to your mouth, you hear yourself saying, “Doesn’t he get tired of playing the part of the upstanding citizen?”

The room goes dead silent. You’ve seen this happen in movies, the uncanny stillness where you could hear a pin drop. At first, he doesn’t move. His mouth hangs slightly open, his cheeks adopting a sudden flush. But the moment he seems to come back to real life, he can’t do anything but blink at you, appearing embarrassed. “Excuse me?”

If Lois’ panicked expression is anything to go by, things aren’t going that well. “Hey, guys, why don’t we—”

“I was just thinking out loud, Kent,” you interrupt her, dumping your empty salad container and closing the distance between you. “I can’t wrap my head around someone acting like they’re on stage all the damn time.”

“You really think I wake up every day and put on an act?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.” You take another step, practically looming over him. “I wonder if your modest decency will ever run out.”

His nostrils flare with each of your words. In that split second, you realize you haven’t been this close in a while. “Maybe if you tried being decent for more than five minutes, you’d see it’s not an act. It’s only called being nice.”

If Jimmy hadn’t materialized out of thin air to separate you, you believe your noses would’ve touched. “Are you seriously fighting?”

“We’re not fighting,” Clark shoots back.

“It certainly looks like it,” Jimmy says.

“Hold on, don’t interrupt the office sweetheart.” You poke Clark’s chest with your finger, feeling nothing but hardness. “I’d love to know more of your thoughts on my attitude. Would you do me a favor and lecture me after work?”

“Well, starting with that sarcasm of yours—”

“I have an idea!” Lois chimes in, and the three of you turn around to see her. She’s smiling. “Jimmy, I need your approval first.”

“Yes, m’lady. I live to serve.” He bows theatrically and makes his way to her. She puts her hands around her mouth and whispers something in his ear, and an almost cartoonish grin stretches across his face.

He covers Lois’ forehead with his palm. “We must protect your brain. It’s one of the last treasures we have as a country.” Then he flicks his eyes again to Clark and you, enjoying himself, and the sight alone makes you feel uneasy.

You’re starting to believe that in the same way bad days follow rain, terrible plans are always preceded by Jimmy’s smirk.

“Will you let me do the honors?” he asks Lois, and the instant she gives him a thumbs-up, he steps forward. “It’s become clear that you have strong opinions about kindness, or the lack of it. Which is why we’re proposing a bet, starting now. It’s called the Good Samaritan Challenge.”

Clark narrows his eyes. “The what?”

“The Good Samaritan Challenge, pal. Are you even listening?” Jimmy repeats, jutting out his hip. He quickly tells Lois to bring a whiteboard, and she’s off like a shot. “Whoever is objectively kinder during the next thirty calendar days wins.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you say under your breath.

Lois elbows you playfully as she comes back with the whiteboard. “Is it?” She raises her brows, handing the board to Jimmy.

He grabs a marker, draws two columns, and writes your name on one and Clark’s on the other. “Here’s the thing. You’ll both try to be the better person for a whole month. Lois and I, as the judges, will track your good deeds. But no cynical motives, alright? It all has to come from the heart.”

Clark seems to be weighing his options when you speak again. “What are the stakes?”

His shoulders look visibly tense. “Wait, you’re agreeing to this?”

“Depends on what each of you wants as the prize,” Lois answers in response to your question, resting her elbows on her desk and propping her chin upon her palms.

You glance at Clark. “If I win, I get an exclusive interview with Superman. You’d have to get it for me, of course, since you’re the only one who’s ever spoken a word to him.”

It's no coincidence you're asking to meet with Metropolis's biggest hero. You watch him flinch, tongue-tied, as he clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck.

Again, you know exactly what you’re asking for, and the reason why.

“And what about you, Clark?” Lois asks.

His lashes flutter together as he considers any possible answer. “You’d have to proofread all my articles for three months,” he explains, fully facing you. “I’m guessing you won’t mind the extra work.”

“Don’t get too excited, because it won’t happen.”

“It will.”

“It won’t.”

“Trust me, it will.”

“Shut up.”

“Guys?” Jimmy intervenes, waving the marker.

“What?” You and Clark answer in unison, and you roll your eyes at him.

Trying to hide his smile, Jimmy concludes, “Shake on it to seal the deal.”

You extend your hand immediately, scrutinizing him with undivided attention. He spares Lois and Jimmy one last look before taking it, his grip firm.

“Your hands are so sweaty.”

“What? No!” you reply, your nose wrinkling. “Yours are.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Leaning in, you murmur your next words low enough so only he can hear them: “You better get ready for that interview.”

He chokes on his own words. “You’re—”

“I have so much to ask him.” You’re genuinely grinning now. “So much to ask you.”

May the games begin, and let the kindest person win.

The café door chimes as Lois steps inside, scanning the crowded morning scene for you among the swarm of people.

It’s the day after the bet began, and you still have fifteen minutes before the clock strikes nine. She spots you and heads your way, placing her bag on the chair beside you and reaching into her coat pocket, but then she notices the coffee already waiting on the table.

“I took care of it,” you say, pushing the cup toward her.

Looking visibly pleased, she wraps her hands around it, sitting down by your side. “Wow. Is this your first act of kindness for the day?”

“I thought an old man was lost on the subway, so I tried talking to him. He must’ve thought I was trying to steal his wallet.”

Lois exhales a small laugh, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “This could be fun, you know?”

You slouch deeper into your seat. “Right now, I care about winning. I can have fun in other ways.”

“You could even see where it goes,” she says casually, not missing a beat.

“Where does what go?”

She shrugs, as if the answer’s obvious. “The thing with you and Clark. It’s—”

“Okay. Stop right there,” you warn, holding up a hand. “You go any further and I’m taking your coffee back.”

Taking a long sip, she shuts her eyes close, then opens them again, her brows snapping together. “I’m just saying that the two of you might finally learn to get along. Think of poor Jimmy and me.”

Your gaze lands on her cup, half-wishing you’d saved a few sips of your own drink instead of downing it in the blink of an eye before she arrived. Your hand instinctively searches your bag for some chewing gum.

She studies you in silence, leaning back. “Is this about that failed date you had? You hate him for standing you up?”

You tilt your head, clicking your tongue once your fingers brush the last piece of gum you had left. You unwrap it, popping it into your mouth. “First of all, I wouldn’t consider that a date,” you say, lips pressed into a slight frown. “And why do you guys keep saying I hate him? That’s a strong feeling.”

There’s palpable hesitation in her speech. “This is starting to sound a lot like gaslighting.”

“Last time I checked, I wasn’t a man.”

She crosses her legs, setting her cup on the table. “Ha ha. You’re so funny.”

“Don’t be sarcastic. Leave that to me, will you?”

“You do realize you have a talent for dodging questions.”

“It’s part of the full package,” you say, standing up and grabbing your belongings. Lois shakes her head in your direction, blowing out her cheeks, and you decide to give in. “Look, I’m not a resentful person. This isn’t about that night. We don’t get along because we’re too… different.” You offer her your hand and smile when she takes it, helping her up. “He finds beauty in everything, doesn’t think twice before trusting someone. I’d never be able to do that.”

Lois drops the subject. On your way out, after dropping a generous tip into the glass jar by the register, you hold the door open for her.

“I could get used to this,” she says, and your mouth twitches, giving her a half-smile.

At the Daily Planet, you both head toward the elevators, and as Lois steps inside, Clark appears behind you, looking agitated.

“Hey,” he greets you, straightening his glasses with one hand and gesturing toward the elevator. “After you.”

The fucker.

You mimic his gesture. “No, please. After you.”

“I said it first.”

“Too bad.”

“Guys…” Lois tries without much luck.

Clark’s voice is still thick with sleep when he speaks. “Would you please be a darling and go first?”

“Tell you what,” you say, inching closer and toying with the end of his tie, inspecting the fabric. “Nothing would make me happier than walking in after you.”

You don’t know if you’ve exhausted him or if he just doesn’t want to be late, but he eventually sighs and steps inside. You position yourself beside Lois, and she ends up squeezed between the two of you.

“Morning, Lois,” Clark says.

“Morning, Clark,” she manages, stealing a glance at you. “You know, someone surprised me with coffee today.”

His mouth snaps shut, and he tugs at the sleeves of his suit. “That’s my thing.” He turns on his side, staring at you. “What’ll be your next move? Will you start wearing glasses as well? Just to make sure we match.”

“Oh, please. I’m not copying you.” The doors open and you’re first to exit, tipping your chin up. “It’s called being nice.”

“I am nice,” Clark blurts, trailing after you. “In fact, I’m nicer than you.”

“I wasn’t aware of this competitive side of yours.”

“Let’s just say I had time to think about it last night.”

“You thought about me before falling asleep?” You let out a feigned gasp. “That’s so cute!”

Jimmy appears in the frame to throw an arm around each of your shoulders. “I could hear your voices from the bathroom.”

You detach yourself from the two men, pointing your index finger at the shorter one. “I bought Lois coffee and let Clark go first in the elevator. Write that down on the board.”

“You basically forced me.”

“Drop it, Clark.”

Well, how about this way? I love that you get cold when it's seventy-one degrees out. I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you're looking at me like I'm nuts. I love that after I spend the day with you, I can still smell your perfume on my clothes. And I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. And it's not because I'm lonely, and it's not because it's New Year's Eve. I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.

You muffle a squeak against the cushion you’ve smashed to your face. You could watch When Harry Met Sally a hundred times, and a hundred times this scene would get you. You could quote it word for word, the moment he finally confesses his love for her.

And then they share a loving kiss. They live happily together after, as in all the rom-coms you like to revisit once in a while. You’re certain there must be tears shimmering in your eyes, for they sting just enough. The more you think about it, the more convinced you are that no one will ever love you like that.

It’s undeniable that this belief has turned you into a bitter individual. You used to have hope. You weren’t like this before, when you were younger. At least not a few years ago, when the idea of loving someone and being loved in return still seemed like a thing you could attain if you worked hard enough for it.

Adulthood, in your experience, has been plagued by hostility and disillusionment. Were it possible, you’d have a word with the you from ten years ago, the one who believed that by now she’d be in love and planning a future with a man worth her time.

But you’d only laugh at her in the same way that an adult laughs when an infant talks about unicorns and talking animals. Because she, or you, for that matter, probably doesn’t know you spend most of your nights alone. And since the news would make her cry, you’d also have to hug her.

The last time you attempted to open your heart to somebody else was a little over a year ago, and it didn’t turn out well.

The day you started working at the Daily Planet, since both of your eyes functioned perfectly, you developed an instant crush on Clark Kent. The real question, you thought, was who wouldn't? He was the most handsome man you'd ever seen, and still is to this day. Maybe that's the saddest part of the whole thing.

Your crush wasn’t just about his looks. You were drawn to his clumsiness, the cadence of his voice, and the way he’d ask if he could be of help. He’d buy you coffee first thing every morning without fail, back when you still accepted it. It would be steaming, and he'd always say, "Be careful. It's really hot." You thought you’d never grow tired of hearing those four simple words.

He made terrible jokes during lunch, and you were the only one who’d laugh, solely because he was the one telling them. If you struggled to navigate the newspaper’s website, he’d come up behind you, lean close, and explain each step patiently. His hand would find its place on your desk for balance, his warm breath would graze your skin, and you wouldn’t listen to a word he said.

There were even days when you pretended not to know how the printer worked. It was a treasure to have him that close, and Clark never questioned it. He was always there, and he’d never make you feel stupid for needing his help.

Around three months in, Lois started asking more questions about your personal life. “So… do you have a boyfriend?”

“Oh, no,” you said, downing what remained of your water bottle. “I’m single.”

“Great, because you know who else is single?” She made a short pause. “Clark.”

Her words of encouragement were the final push. You asked him out, and it was the most ungraceful ramble of your entire life. The memory still plays out in your head, a vivid reel of your voice shaking and your eyes fixed on the floor as you stumbled over each word.

It happened during one particular Thursday afternoon, while the two of you were standing by the printer. “I was thinking that tomorrow we could go out, just the two of us. If you want. I mean—if you’re not busy or—”

He gapes at you, his answer nearly written all over his face. At last, he smiles, and then says, “I’d really like that.”

You knew you'd spend the next twenty-four hours in a state of total anxiety. The world as you once knew it had changed for good. You used some of the money you were saving up to buy a dress you felt pretty in. In a moment of madness, you'd even used some of your savings to buy a dress you felt pretty in.

Ten minutes early for your reservation that Friday, you sat alone at the restaurant. You couldn't bring yourself to order, instead staring at your phone, terrified of the blank screen.

With every swing of the door, your heart tightened in your chest. Each new face that entered, you desperately hoped it would be Clark and not a stranger.

Fifteen minutes passed, which later bled into twenty, and then thirty agonizing minutes had gone by. There was a waitress, a girl perhaps younger than you, who kept circling by your table.

“Still waiting for someone?” she asked.

Suddenly, you felt embarrassed. “He should be here any minute now.”

At some point, your stomach had begun to rumble, and that was the exact moment you read his name on your phone, answering so fast you nearly dropped it. “Clark?”

The line crackled with static, and you could barely hear him over a tumultuous roar. “I’m so sorry,” he said, nearly shouting and sounding breathless on the other end of the line. “There’s this thing I have to take care of—I can’t—”

“Are you okay?” you asked, starting to worry. “Where are you?”

“I wish I could explain, but—” A sudden rush of air swallowed his words. “I won’t make it tonight.”

Your eyes scanned the restaurant, taking in the sea of couples laughing over dinner. “Okay. That’s fine. Thank you for letting me know.”

“I’m—” he began, but to your surprise, the sentence was cut short by the call ending.

Utterly defeated, you clutched your phone, observing as his name faded from your lock screen with every passing second. You remained seated for another five minutes, trying to conjure a believable excuse for the waitress before you left.

She ended up returning to your table. “Will you be ordering anything tonight?”

It seemed she didn't need much to grasp what had happened. When you got home, you peeled off the dress, folded it carefully, and put it back in the store bag. To keep from seeing it, you hid it under the couch, then collapsed onto the cushions, letting out a contained breath.

I should’ve stayed home, you told yourself. Your bed wouldn't have stood you up, neither would your couch or your phone. You opened social media, searching for a distraction, something simple, like videos of dogs trying to talk with their overreacting families.

What you found was starkly different from your initial vision. It was a video of Superman, flying high in the sky while holding a phone to his ear. Seconds later, the phone tragically slipped from his hand, plunging into a river below. The video had millions of views and had been posted less than an hour ago. The comment section was full of users drawing their own conclusions.

d1stalker: GET OFF THAT DAMN PHONE 😭how is he literally flying and talking at the same time? multitasking king

elysianymph: i’d love to know who he was talking to… a girl can only dream

dayapad: guys don’t worry IT WAS ME ON THE OTHER END 🥀 he’s safe now. just tucked him in and we’re about to watch a movie (i scream as they drag me back to my room in the asylum)

redgie-69: now he needs to do an ad por iphone or sth. superman get that bag !!!

Unable to stop yourself, you clicked the video again, pausing and rewinding it. The wind was a deafening roar in the background, and you couldn't make out half of what the bystanders were saying. With the line cutting and his phone falling into the river, the video's timestamp was a perfect match for the time he had called you.

Realization hit you like a freight train. Fuck. That was Clark. Clark was… Superman.

A whirlwind of feelings coexisted within you, but none was strong enough to snap you out of the trance you were in. You kept watching those fifteen seconds over and over again, replaying the memory of the call and his exact words.

There had always been something about him that was slightly off, and not precisely in a bad way. You'd always chalked it up to him being dorky and a little shy, traits you didn't mind in the slightest. But now, after that footage, you couldn't bring yourself to simply unsee it.

You recalled a specific incident that had taken place a few weeks ago. Jimmy, insisting Clark would be the perfect actor for a Superman biopic, had reached to pull off his glasses. With grace, Clark had swatted his hand away, claiming they were too fragile to be passed around like a toy.

You knew better, knew exactly why he reacted the way he did. And, God help you, did that make you like him even more?

That night, you sent him two text messages, having momentarily forgotten he wouldn’t be able to read them.

I think I understand why you didn’t show up tonight.

And shortly after:

I saw the video. You look good in blue.

By the time Monday came around, you’d already picked ‌all your nails. You arrived at the office earlier than usual, and his desk was still empty, but you kept checking the elevator every time it stopped at your floor.

He was nodding good morning at someone when you saw him, and you didn’t hesitate. You strode straight up to him, took his hand between yours, and whispered: “We need to talk.”

“Uh—hi?”

“Now.”

You led him down the hall and into the break room, closing the door behind you once the two of you were inside and turning the lock.

“Is everything—”

“You’re Superman,” you said, not even bothering to mince your words.

Clark looked like he’d seen a ghost, pure anxiety brewing in his eyes. You could imagine the gears turning in his head as he remained silent, lost in thought.

“Cat got your tongue?”

His gaze darted to every object in the room but you. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t lie to me. I saw the video, Clark. You called me while flying, and you dropped your phone midair.”

He was breathing differently now, as if he was attempting to calm himself.

“Does Jimmy know? Lois?”

That question made him look up. “No,” he said. “No one knows, except… well, you. I didn’t want you to find out this way.” His eyes bore into yours, his mouth set in a hard line. “I’m sorry I stood you up, but I heard this explosion on the east side, and I couldn’t ignore it.” Clark’s face reddened the more he said. “And then I dropped my phone. I went back for it later, but I couldn’t find it.”

Recognition settled over you at his words. “I’m not mad at you,” you assured him, giving a nod. The way his brows knitted burned a hole through your heart. “Would you maybe want to reschedule our date?”

The silence between you deepened, making your smile fade off of your face as the tension in the room thickened.

“I—I mean, if that’s something you still want,” he managed, the tone of his voice betraying him. “I don’t know if—I mean, I do want to, but—I wouldn’t want things to be complicated for you and me.”

Were you being friend-zoned? “Right.”

He runs a hand through his hair, getting more notoriously verbose by the minute. “It’s just that, now that you know, I don’t want to put you in danger. And I’m not sure it’d be fair to ask—”

“Okay,” you cut him short. “So what you're saying is that we should just leave it, then.”

“Wait—”

“We can just stay colleagues, if that’s easier.”

He seemed taken aback by your resoluteness. “Is that what you want?”

It wasn’t, but either way, you smiled. “Yes. That’d be better. We shouldn’t ruin what we have.”

You could’ve sworn he was just about to contradict you, but nothing came out of his mouth. Reaching for the door, you unlocked it, and he didn’t seem to be planning on following you. You cast him a glance over your shoulder before saying, “I promise I won’t say anything.”

Having fled the break room, you thought you might feel better, more professional even, but as you sat back down at your desk, your insides were turning into knots.

When Lois and Jimmy showed up beside you, eager for updates, you gave them a breathy laugh, which was meant to sound casual. “Guys, there wasn’t a date to begin with.”

“What?” Lois whispered harshly. “Why not?”

“He had to go to Kansas,” you explained, the lie feeling foreign on your tongue. “His parents needed him there, so he left Friday evening.”

“Is everything okay now?” Jimmy asked.

“Oh, yeah. It wasn’t a big deal. But we talked, and we agreed to stay friends. It’ll be for the best.”

Lois studied you a second longer than necessary, her gaze narrowing as if she could hear what you weren’t saying. You assured them both you were fine, that there was no drama between the two of you, and that this was the smartest, most mature decision you and Clark could’ve made. You just hoped they would believe you.

What shocked you the most was that he’d looked so nervous, maybe even more than usual. If he hadn’t wanted to go out with you, he could’ve just said so when you asked him out. But Clark, always the sweetheart, probably hadn’t wanted to hurt your feelings. It was funny, considering he’d managed that anyway.

Was it stupid to think he might’ve liked you back? Maybe you’d been seeing things that weren’t actually there. Maybe you’d overanalyzed every smile, every gentle gesture, every moment your world seemed to spin faster just because he was in the same room as you.

It made sense: someone who wants to be loved will look for it everywhere, even in places it doesn’t exist.

From that moment on, you stopped looking for his eyes when he walked past your desk. You declined his offers to grab you coffee because his gentleness felt like charity, and you wanted no part of it.

Back to the present. Enough of your sad memories. The credits of the movie are still rolling, but you shut the laptop, getting up and stretching. In the bathroom, you brush your teeth while staring at your reflection, and once you’re in bed, you pull the covers all the way up to your chest.

You’re choosing the fantasy you’ll think about tonight to fall asleep when you hear the rhythmic sound of your neighbor’s headboard rocking against the wall.

You’d run into her in the elevator earlier today, and she’d mentioned her long-distance boyfriend was coming over for the week. You hear her laugh, then his, alongside other noises you won’t try to dissect.

The walls in this building are paper-thin, and on any other occasion, you would’ve grabbed the first thing within reach to knock on the wall. But you won’t do that tonight, not because you can’t, but because you don’t want to. You stare at the ceiling, thinking they deserve these kinds of moments after being apart for so long.

Plus, it’s only a week. Just because you’re not getting laid doesn’t mean the rest of the world should stop having sex out of pity, so you turn onto your side, pull the covers up over your ear, and decide to sleep. It turns out that kindness can also sound like silence.

It’s been two weeks since the bet started, and you’ve come to discover that complimenting people is a good way to earn points, especially if you deliver them in public for everyone to hear.

“Lois, I love your blazer,” you say as she walks past your desk one morning.

She stops mid-stride, smiling at you. “Thank you. It’s thrifted.”

You’ve also made a habit of stapling Jimmy’s copies before he gets to them. “I think somebody wants to win,” he notes, watching you finish his stack.

“You would too if interviewing Superman was on the line.”

“Well, you better keep it up, because you’re still behind.”

Safe to say you take that personally. Later that day, Lois gives you a point when she catches you holding the door open for nearly ten people in a row. Clark earns another when he finds someone’s missing phone after searching for fifteen straight minutes.

Just to be clear, you were also looking for it. He just happened to be the one who found it first. But yes, you’ve been trying lately, and Clark notices.

Though today you’re moving more slowly because of a headache that has settled behind your eyes. You spend most of the morning at your desk, head bent while typing out emails, but you’re forced to look up when a cup of coffee lands beside your keyboard.

Your first instinct is to say no. Politely, of course, because of the bet. You haven’t accepted anything from him in a long time.

He places something else down: an aspirin. “It’s 2025. We have advanced medicine to ease your suffering.”

“Are you that desperate to win?” you ask, resting your chin on your palm.

Clark snorts. “What would you like my answer to be?”

You drop the subject, accepting both things and picking up the coffee. “If I kindly take this coffee, would that earn me a point?”

“That wouldn’t make any sense.”

“Then I don’t want it.”

“Half a point?”

“We’ve got a deal.” You take a trial sip, tasting its flavor and muffling a satisfied sound. “God, it’s really good. Thanks. How much was it?”

He shakes his head. “Forget about it.”

“Hey, no. I want to pay you for it.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can hear you,” he says, walking backwards and away from you.

“Asshole.”

“What did you just say?”

“That you look nice today,” you admit instead, folding your hands on your lap. “I like your shirt.”

It’s a plain one, honestly. Nothing special, but it still looks good on him. He glances down at his clothes, the corners of his mouth lifting. “How nice of you to say that. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

So apparently, you and Clark are starting to get along.

It’s easier if you hide behind the bet, because you can be decent to each other while racking up points. What’s so bad about it? Yet you can’t ignore the fact that you kind of enjoy being like this with him, despite the whole challenge finishing in less than two weeks.

Clark: Don’t forget Jimmy’s birthday tomorrow.

You groan around a mouthful of apple, cursing your poor memory

You: Fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkk

Clark: I knew it. See, I’m that nice. I could’ve chosen not to tell you.

You: That would’ve made you a prick

Clark: You’re right, but now owe me one.

You: I could bake him a cake… or cupcakes??? Idk

Clark: I’d go with the cake. Just imagine Lois and Jimmy giving you ten points for it.

Pressing your thumb against your mouth, you gnaw at it, holding your breath as you type a message.

You: We can make it five and five if you help me

You put your phone down, covering it with a cushion, but the moment it buzzes again, you snatch it back.

Clark: Sounds fair, though I’ve never baked anything from scratch before.

You: I’ve got the perfect recipe

Clark: Are we having dinner as well? I could bring some takeout.

You can’t help but re-read that text too many times.

You: Sure, whatever you want

Clark: Chinese?

You: Yuppp but please hurry up because I’m starving

He asks for your address, and twenty minutes later, he’s knocking at your door, a plastic takeout bag swinging from one hand. He loosens his tie the moment he’s inside, shrugging off his coat and rolling up his sleeves

“So…,” he trails off, pacing around the living room, “you’re in charge tonight.”

You suggest eating first, otherwise, the food will go cold. While you set the table, Clark turns on the TV and lets it run in the background. As expected, you mostly talk about work. Does this count as a date? You’re not sure.

The first thing you ask him to do is to preheat the oven, and he obeys without a word. Your kitchen isn’t big enough for two people, and if anything, Clark’s towering height only makes it more difficult. His elbows constantly bump yours, and he apologizes every single time.

While you handle the measuring of ingredients, he takes the whisk. It seems the Man of Steel has no coordination when it comes to baking. He’s hyper-focused on not pouring the whole bottle of vanilla extract, tongue peeking out slightly as he pours. You can’t resist the temptation, so you give in to it and blow a puff of flour into his face.

His right profile is now covered in white, and he blinks rapidly, nudging his face against his shoulder. “It got in my eye.”

“It didn’t. I’m right here, remember?”

Wide-eyed and frozen in place, Clark stares at your head. “What’s that on your hair?”

“There’s nothing on my—”

He dips his fingers into the flour bag while you aren’t looking and flicks a pinch at you. A malicious laugh bubbles in his throat as he takes in the sight of you, frowning and crossing your arms.

“Now we’re even,” he says, waggling his eyebrows.

Afterward, you pour the liquid batter into a prepared pan, smoothing the top. You put it into the oven, finding Clark scraping the bowl with a spoon, licking it with pure contentment and savoring the remnants. There’s a small dot of batter near the edge of his mouth, which he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Clark, there’s—” You point to your own mouth, hoping he’ll mimic you.

But he doesn’t get the hint, putting down the bowl instead. “What?”

You sigh, taking a step toward him and wiping your thumb across the corner of his plump lips. He stops breathing in that moment, and so do you. You clean your finger on the edge of a dirty kitchen towel, then ask, “Can you wipe the counter while I make the frosting?”

He looks astonished. “I can—Sure. I’ll do it.”

Neither of you utters another word for a couple of minutes, focusing on your respective tasks. After testing that the cake was done, you take it out of the oven, unmolding it onto a rack to cool.

Clark plops down on the couch, covering his eyes with his forearm. “We can’t decorate it yet, right?”

“No. We have to wait, or the frosting will melt.”

“I’m so tired,” Clark says, yawning, and then his contagious yawn makes you do the same.

“I didn’t realize it was this late.” You sit on the opposite side of the couch, unlocking your phone. “I’ll put an alarm. We can take a twenty-minute nap, and then we finish it.”

His eyelids are already drooping, and he murmurs, “Just twenty minutes.”

You struggle to find a comfortable position to fall asleep in. Normally, you’d stretch out fully, but now you can’t, and you blame the giant sitting next to you. By the time you drift off, you swear you can hear him snoring just a little.

The alarm went off twenty minutes later, but neither of you stirred. You only woke up to switch sides, blocking the intrusive light from the curtains. Your eyes opened just long enough to see Clark, still in the same position as before, his mouth slightly parted and his hair a beautiful mess.

The cake.

“Clark!” You bolt upright, almost jumping to your feet. You touched his shoulder, shaking him. “Wake up. We overslept.”

He rubs his eyes, huffing. “What time is it?”

“We have… twenty minutes before we need to leave.”

Both of you get to work. Clark retrieves the frosting from the fridge and tries to help you spread it on the cake, but it ends up looking less like a smooth layer and more like a lumpy hill.

“Oh, God. I hope the cake isn’t dry.”

“It looks good,” he says, admiring it from a distance. “At least from here.”

You melt some dark chocolate in the microwave. It’s surprisingly thick, and you grab a fork, trying to write Happy Birthday Jimmy across the top. The letters are wobbly and melted into one another, but it’s the thought that counts. You grab the single birthday candle you always saved for such occasions, placing it in the center.

Clark hovers just behind your shoulder. “It’s… definitely abstract.”

You glance down at your clothes from the night before, realizing you didn’t even get a chance to shower. “Shit. Do I smell?”

His expression softens, his gaze landing on your head. “You don’t, but you still have flour on your hair.” He brushes his fingers through your hair with the delicacy you’d expect from a man like him.

The pad of his thumb grazes your hairline, and your breath catches in your chest. He pulls back abruptly, grasping what he’s doing a second too late. “There you go.”

Scrambling to get ready, you transfer the cake to a cardboard pastry box, securing it. “Okay, subway. Now.”

As Clark and you rush through the station, you clasp the cake box in your hands. The platform’s already crowded with people. You steal a quick glance at Clark, catching the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“I asked you if you had a boyfriend like, ten times, and you always said no.”

It’s a pity you recognize that voice. Matthew appears at your side, glaring at Clark, his eyes darting from him to you. The look on his face is one of total disappointment.

“He’s not—”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Clark asks, subtly stepping forward to angle his body between the two of you.

“Matt.” He extends his hand in offering, but Clark silently refuses to take it, staring at him. “I just—sorry, dude. I had no idea she was taken.”

You wave your hand at them. “Hello. I’m right here.”

“Honey, you’ve never mentioned him before,” Clark says, draping his arm around your shoulders.

How smooth. “Well, honey, I must’ve forgotten,” you rejoice, leaning into his solid frame, playing the part of the loving girlfriend.

The screeching noise of the train marks the end of that conversation as the doors slide open. Just before the rush of people floods the car, Clark grabs your hand, tugging you inside, and Matthew’s left standing behind on the platform.

Even after finding two empty seats, he doesn’t let go of your hand, and neither do you.

“May I ask who that guy was?” His eyes gloss over the cake box above your legs.

“A not-so-secret admirer. He’s asked me out a few times, but hasn’t had much luck.”

“He seems persistent.”

“Trust me. He is.”

“I hope you don’t mind what I did back there,” he says, lowering his voice. “I thought it was the right thing to do.”

“It helped.” You squeeze his hand before gently dropping it. “Thank you.”

You make it to the office just before nine, taking the stairs because the elevator’s far too packed. Now it’s Clark’s turn to carry the cake, and he trails after you with precise steps.

To say Jimmy’s thrilled at the surprise would be an understatement. The corners of his eyes crinkle as he opens the box. “Holy crap! You baked this?”

“Yes,” you both say at once.

“I love it so much!” He takes the cake out of the box, looking at it from a different angle. “Can someone please take a picture of me with it? I feel like I’ve just met my firstborn.”

Lois materializes out of nowhere, trying to analyze the situation. “Why are you two wearing the same clothes from yesterday?” She lets a beat slide, then adds: “And why did you arrive together?”

“Well—the thing is—”

“It’s a long story,” Clark jumps in.

“But we have all the time in the world,” Lois shoots back.

And that’s how you know you’re trapped.

Only a week before the bet ends. There’s a guy with too much gel in his hair lingering a few feet from your desk. You’ve seen him around. He’s one of the new hires who writes for the newspaper’s column on culture and arts.

You’ve been expecting him to approach you for ten minutes now. When he finally does it, you see a confident smile tugging at his lips. “Hey, I’m Ethan,” he introduces himself, cocking his head.

“Nice to meet you, Ethan. I’m—”

“I know,” he interrupts you, squinting a little as if he’s embarrassed by his own enthusiasm. “Okay, that sounded weird, but what I meant is that I know your name.” he wraps his arms around himself, taking a deep breath. “I was wondering if you’d like to grab a drink sometime.”

That’s not what you expected. He’s a handsome guy, charming even, but—

This is the kindness challenge, and you're supposed to be all friendly and polite, at least for another full week.

You plaster a practiced smile on your face. “Sure. Why not?”

He asks for your number, and you rattle it off in a monotonous tone. As he heads off, you catch Clark in the distance across the bullpen, sitting at his desk. He must have used his super hearing because he doesn't tear his gaze away from yours, and you feel as if all the oxygen in the world has been sucked out of the building.

Hours later, you’re in the break room, pouring coffee into your favorite mug, the one with a tiny kitten curled on the front. Clark walks in, closing the door behind him after he sees there’s no one else there.

“You want some coffee?” You ask him while stirring your coffee.

He stays quiet for ages. “What’s the deal with that new guy?”

“You mean Ethan?”

“We’re using names now.”

“He asked me out,” you continue to explain, lifting the mug to your lips. “And I said yes.”

“Why?”

“It's just a drink, Clark. I’m being nice. That’s the whole point, remember?”

“I had no idea being kind involved bar hopping with strangers.”

Why is he acting like this? “Jealousy doesn’t look great on you.”

“I’m not jealous. I just—” He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the dark locks. “You don’t know him. Nobody does.”

“He seems nice.”

“Everybody seems nice if you only exchange two words with them!”

You grind your jaw. “Why are you assuming the worst? Why does the idea of me going out with someone bother you so much?”

Clark doesn't answer immediately. “You can do whatever you want,” he says, his tone shifting to a pained one. “I'm just asking you to be careful.”

“You don't need to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

Pride claims a full point from both of you.

You’re nodding along to another of Ethan’s stories from his college days, your eyes fixed on the rim of your glass.

It’s not that he’s boring, but for some reason, you’re unable to pay attention to anything he says. He’s talking about some phenomenal frat party he attended during senior year, which you can’t even relate to, because you’d never liked them.

He gulps down his drink, grinning. “I’m not letting you speak, am I?”

“Well—”

“Tell me something about yourself.”

You take a look around the bar, which is dim and cozy. The bartender hasn’t stopped mixing cocktails behind the counter. You shift your attention back to Ethan, lifting your eyebrows. “I’m currently stuck in a kindness challenge at work.”

You can’t blame him for seeming confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Lois and Jimmy had this brilliant idea that Clark and I should compete to see who’s nicer. He’s the guy with—”

“The glasses, I know. You’ve already mentioned him.” Ethan rolls his eyes, sighing at the same time a forced smile flashes across his face.

You can tell he’s bothered. Have you really been talking about Clark this much on a date with someone else? “Sorry.”

He gives a dismissive wave of his hand, waving it off. “And how’s the bet going?”

What an awfully complex question. You toy with the straw you were given with your drink, pressing your lips together. “Pretty much okay. We baked a cake last week.”

He chuckles. “You know what’s funny? I thought you two were dating at first.”

You tear your eyes away from the straw. “What?”

“I’d see you together all the time,” he says with a shrug, resting an arm on the back of the booth. “Then someone told me you hated him or something, and I had to shoot my shot.”

You hear him laugh, and he must expect you to do the same, but you don’t. “Hate him?” you echo his words. “I don’t hate him. Who said that?”

“I… don’t remember now. Does it matter?”

“Well, of course it does. Your source is wrong.”

“Yeah. I figured that around the fifth time you found a way to bring him up tonight.”

In a rare moment of clarity, a stark contrast to the bar's dark interior, you look down at your hands. Shutting your eyes, and behind closed lids, you can only picture the face of a man who isn’t here, who isn’t the one sitting across from you.

This isn’t where you’re supposed to be.

Pushing back your chair, you reach for your purse. “This won’t work,” you murmur, putting on your jacket. “You’re a nice guy, really. You’re not the problem. I shouldn’t have come tonight.”

Even though he calls your name as you make your way to the door, you don’t go back. Outside, driven by instinct, you fumble for your phone in your pocket. Since you’ve never felt this determined before in your life, you decide to call Clark.

It rings twice before he picks up, and when he does, his voice sounds groggy. “Hello?”

“Were you sleeping?”

“Sort of.”

You throw your head back, giving yourself a face palm. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Clark assures you, the rustle of sheets reverberating through the line. He must be tossing around in bed, given the hour. “Is everything alright?”

For a moment, pressure wells in your chest. You glance both ways down the street, half-expecting to stumble into him. “I just wanted to say something.” You exhale, pressing the phone further into your ear, as if you could merge it with your skin. “I don’t hate you.”

He offers no immediate response. After a while, he says, “What?”

“I don’t hate you. Not in the slightest.”

“You’re scaring me.”

“I needed you to know it.” Each of your words feels thick in your mouth, heavy like sand. “I wouldn’t be able to hate you.”

Judging by the background noise on his end, you guess he must be out of bed and pacing now. “I don’t hate you either.”

“It’s not the same. I already knew it.”

“Right,” he laughs, and the sound fills the line. You can almost imagine the dimples in his cheeks. “Wasn’t your date today? How did it go?”

 “Let’s just say there’s a section of the bullpen I’m not allowed into anymore.”

“Oh. That bad?”

“He said I talked a lot about you, so you tell me.”

The last time you two spoke in person, you had stormed out of the break room. He’d sounded jealous, a fact he fiercely denied, and his attitude had finally gotten to you. Maybe it was that time of year when you got a bit paranoid, but the thought hit you: you could die at any minute. Living in a city full of unknown threats and creatures, were you seriously going to spend the rest of your life keeping everything bottled up?

Yet, as if reading your very thoughts, he asks: “Would you like to come over?”

“Like… now?”

“Right now.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You hail the first cab you find on the streets of this Saturday night, counting down the minutes until you arrive at his apartment.

Fifth floor. Apartment C. Clark opens the door to you, and the mere sight of him steals your breath. He isn’t wearing his glasses. A pair of gray sweatpants sits low on his hips, along with a navy blue shirt stretched across his chest.

The only thing you can bring yourself to say is: “Hi.”

He invites you in. You hear the door clicking shut behind you as you put down your purse, turning around to face him. You clear your throat, staring deep into his eyes, and you notice he still hasn’t said a word.

“I spent almost ten minutes thinking about what to say to you. I even came up with what I thought was a great speech. It made sense in my head, but I can’t… remember it now,” you explain, swallowing the lump in your throat. You’re nervous, so freaking nervous you feel dizzy. Has he always been this tall?

“You don’t need a big speech,” Clark says, inching forward.

“I wanted to give you one, like they do in movies.”

“Then, just—come up with one right now.”

As if it were that easy. You press your hands to your face for a moment, imploring some god above for the courage you so desperately needed.

It doesn’t have to be well-structured. Doesn’t have to have perfect grammar. It just has to come from the heart and be true, and you couldn’t be more certain of what you feel for him.

“I would’ve dated you, you know? Even after finding out about the whole Superman thing, I would’ve risked everything, because it didn’t change the way I felt about you. It hasn’t changed it. I feel the same I did yesterday, and the day before that, and a year ago,” you blurt, edging closer to him. “I can’t imagine existing in a world where I’m not madly in love with you.”

You can't read the look on his face. His shoulders are rigid, his gaze giving nothing away as he studies you, and you find yourself wondering what exactly he’s thinking.

“I’ve tried putting it all behind me. I’ve tried starting over. For God’s sake, I went on a date with a man I didn’t even like! Just because you looked so… frustrated about it, and I thought maybe it was worth it.”

The past month’s blur of events rewinds in your mind. Your feelings, which you had tried to quiet and smother for so long, have come roaring back to life stronger than ever. You believe this must be love: that force you can try to extinguish and contain, but one that always burns through, because it is as real as the blood in your veins and the bones in your body.

“I can’t keep pretending I’m not dying to kiss you every time I see you at work. I feel like I’m in hell whenever you’re near me, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I can’t let you go, Clark. I don’t want to, but I swear I’d make the effort if you asked me to. I’d try, just for you.”

All the cards, including the ones you were keeping to yourself, have been laid out. You yearn for Clark Kent. You need him in your life, in any way he’s willing to offer himself, with those eyes of his that now look at you like you’ve gone nuts.

You’ve learned that there will always be something wrong. That’s how things work, at least for the alive-and-kicking ones. And you know for a fact that love won’t save you. Clark’s love, in this case, won’t assure you anything. But you’d much rather navigate those complexities with him by your side.

A flush creeps up his face, and he inclines his face. “I’d never ask you to walk away from me. Understanding you has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to endure, which sounds absurd considering we speak the same language,” he says, and you can’t help but let out a laugh at that. “I mean it, and not just as Clark, but also as Superman.”

“You’re saying I’m hard to understand?”

“I’m saying that there’s so much you don’t say. I have to translate every look and sigh. I believe I’ve developed a whole new dialect just to make sense of you—”

“I feel like you’re using this as an opportunity to roast me.”

“—but loving you is the easy part, and you don’t even realize it.”

Your heart hammers unpleasantly inside your chest. “Clark, I thought you wanted us to stay friends.”

“I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“But you said it. Kind of,” you argue, your forehead creasing.

He holds out his arms, stifling his laughter. “You didn’t let me explain! I panicked. I didn’t know what to say. You know how I get when I’m nervous.”

You’re left standing there, beyond stunned. “So this whole time… we could’ve been together?” You make a brief pause, falling silent. “I was so mad at you. So fucking—”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Clark takes hold of your chin, angling your head backwards so your eyes peer directly into his. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

“Complaining about the past. We’re here now. We can make it up to each other.”

You sigh, and he hunches over to rest his forehead against yours. His stare carries so much, but you can’t look away. “I think I remembered my speech.”

“We’ve already moved past that.”

“I could still deliver it—”

You’re cut off by Clark’s mouth on yours. He kisses you with the intensity of a starved man, and you freeze, caught off guard and barely moving your lips, until he guides your arms around his neck, and that’s when your body catches up. His own hands find their sacred place on your waist, clutching the fabric of your sweater.

This is the aftermath of months of pent up-frustration. His tongue presses insistently against yours to seek entry. Ever so gently, he corners you against the nearest wall, and your head nudges a frame that ends up clattering to the floor. It’s not enough to get Clark off of you. He shoves it aside with his shoe, further pressing you into the wall.

“I don’t want to fight anymore,” he gasps between kisses, holding your cheeks as his nose bumps into yours.

“We won’t,” you say, dizzy from all the kissing. “I promise.”

It turns out that his lips can’t seem to leave yours for long. “And please don’t go on any more dates with new hires.”

You roll your eyes, running your fingers through the short hair at his nape. “I told you it went horribly.”

“Still.”

“You’re unbelievable.” Your mouth crushes onto his once again, your pulse quickening with every second his hands are on you. You then whisper against his lips, “It’s always been you. You can stop worrying about other men.”

He blows out his cheeks, shaking his head. “Golly, this isn’t fair.”

“What isn’t?”

“I just—love you so much,” he mumbles, pecking your lips, “and you’re so beautiful, and there’s so much I want to do with you. I want to do everything—”

“We’ll take our time.”

“I know, I know.” He grazes the skin of your neck as he pulls you in for another kiss. “But touching you, kissing you… it feels too good to be true.”

A small chuckle escapes you, and you caress his cheek. “Alright, Romeo. You’ve done enough talking.”

When you come back to your senses, he’s got you all sprawled across the couch, his touch insistent yet careful. You’re struggling to remain still the more acquainted he becomes with your body. He digs his fingers into your waist, your hips, the sides of your thighs, leaving a trail of all the places where he’s been.

He’s kissing down your jawline the moment your mind conjures up an important question. “Clark?”

“Tell me.”

“Let’s say that, hypothetically, I spend the night here.”

“…Hypothetically.”

“Exactly. Would you have a spare toothbrush in that case?”

He lifts his head from your neck, the corner of his eyes crinkling. “You’re marking territory.”

“Hey. I said hypothetically. And I care about dental hygiene.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he says, your head squeezed between his forearms. He ducks down to kiss you. “I do have a spare toothbrush. Don’t worry about that.”

You resume the make-out session after that. You sink deeper into the cushions as he shoves your sweater further up your chest, just enough to ghost his fingertips along your bra, eliciting a choked whimper out of you. The sound seems to spur him on because he pulls off his own shirt, allowing you to get a better look at his stomach.

The words die on your lips, and you draw a pattern over his pecks, then up to his biceps, ending in the happy trail that leads to what remains hidden beneath the tent on his sweatpants.

“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” he breathes, pining your hand above your head. “I thought you were the one who said to take our time.”

“I’m gonna combust and you haven’t even touched me properly yet,” you admit, gaping at his lips as he hovers over you, teasing you. “Imagine the state I’m in.”

That makes him smirk, and he slides a thick thigh between your parted legs, pressing it to your center. You throw your head back, cursing. “You like that?”

You nod, watching him through hooded eyes. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Fuck, Clark. Do something. I need—”

Upon the coffee table next to the couch, your phone starts ringing, and Uptown Girl by Billy Joel fills the living room.

The spell breaks, and you hide your face into the crook of his neck. “I hate my life.”

“Ignore it.”

“I can’t. I know who it is,” you say, reaching your arm without looking. Eventually, you drag the phone out of the purse, and show the screen to him. “It’s Lois. She must be calling to ask how the date went.”

“Text her instead.”

“Clark, I can’t—just don’t make a sound, okay? I have to take this, or else she’ll keep calling.”

You accept the call without noticing your voice has gone up an octave. “Hi!”

“Hey! You didn’t text me about the date, so I figured I’d just call you.”

“Sorry, I must’ve forgotten.” You gulp down as he rolls your sweater over your head in one swift motion, and you slap his shoulder when he almost makes you drop your phone. “It was… average.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“We didn’t have much in common,” you continue, drifting your attention to the ceiling to try and stay composed. “He was—oh.”

Clark’s kisses have now migrated to your chest, his fingers sneaking beneath your back to unclasp your bra. He doesn’t break eye contact as he takes hold of your breasts in his hands, and you squirm under him.

Lois’ voice breaks through, sounding distant. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yes. I’m here, sorry. We didn’t even talk that much. I left quite early.” You mouth a ‘stop’ to him, holding the phone away from your ear, but he just smiles at you.

“Dammit, that sucks. Are you home now?”

“I was—Clark!” You yelp as he closes his mouth around your right nipple, scraping his teeth against the hardened peak. He looks at you with a horrified expression, and your whole frame stiffens.

“…Clark?” Lois repeats, and she gasps. “Are you—is Clark there? CLARK KENT?”

“IhavetogoI’msosorrybyeloveyouuuuu,” you push out the words quickly in one breath before hanging up, dropping the phone to the floor. “You’re a prick. What the hell was that?”

“I’d put it into silence mode if I were you.”

“That wasn’t fair.”

“What’s not fair is that you’re still wearing clothes.” He sits on his knees to unbutton your pants and yank them to your ankles, his eyes dark with want. Then he does the same to his own, until all that’s left are your underwear and the hardness confined inside his briefs, which presses against you the moment he leans down.

You begin kissing him as he lays on top of you, holding himself up on his forearms so as not to crush you with his weight.

“When did you become a horny teenager?” you ask, biting back a moan as he aligns himself with you, both of you still clothed. You know there must be a damp spot on your panties at this point from how wet you are.

“Always been one around you,” he replies huskily, slipping his hands under your thighs to tug you even closer. As he grinds his hips into yours, his jaw clenches, his breath damp against your skin. “Can I—is this alright?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You shift to give him more space between your legs. “It’s nice.”

The temperature in the room is borderline unbearable. Clark rocks into you in earnest, muttering sounds next to your ear. Some you catch, but some are so low that they are swallowed by the way he murmurs your name.

“I feel stupid doing this,” he grits out, pressing his lips to yours, his brows knitting. “I wish I could do more for you, but—I can’t. I need this. You feel—”

Shushing him, you roll your hips up to meet his mid thrust just right, whimpering when his tip catches against your entrance through the sticky fabric. He shivers, making a strangled noise.

“Oh, God—”

“Clark—”

“I swear—”

You cut him off with a kiss, sucking on his tongue. “Do you want to be inside me?”

He’s panting against your mouth, pupils blown. “What?”

“You heard me.”

He flattens his palms on the back of your thighs, his fingernails scraping gently. “I mean, of course I—yes, I’d love that,” he says, laying heavy stress on the ‘love’ part. “But I’d like to make you come like this first.”

A grin curls your lips. “Great. We’ve got four days until the bet’s done. Each orgasm equals ten points.”

That night, you have sex with Clark Kent for the first time, and it’s the best sex of your life.

He earns forty points in the span of an hour and a half.

The day the challenge started, the sky was falling apart, rain had laughed in your face, soaking you from head to toes, and Clark had offered you a spare umbrella, which you declined.

But today, four weeks later, the sun couldn’t be shining brighter, you get to work right on time, and Clark brings you coffee and a pastry for breakfast at the office.

You’re in the break room. He drags a chair across the floorboards so that he can sit next to you. Neither of you are working, though after a month of constant fighting, a short period of ten minutes of peace feels like the real prize after all.

The memories from that first day feel almost laughable now in your mind.

I was just thinking out loud, Kent. I can’t wrap my head around someone acting like they’re on stage all the damn time.

You really think I wake up every day and put on an act?

I don’t know, you tell me. I wonder if your modest decency will ever run out.

Maybe if you tried being decent for more than five minutes, you’d see it’s not an act. It’s only called being nice.

Glancing to your side, you find him scrolling through something on his phone. There’s a slight crease between his brows as he reads, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. You smile before you can stop yourself.

He must feel your attention on him because he catches you staring. A smile spreads across his face too. “What’s got you like this?”

You shake your head, feeling the rising to your cheeks. “Nothing,” you say, taking a sip of your coffee. “I was just… thinking.”

Across the room, Jimmy and Lois hover protectively over the whiteboard where they’ve kept track of every good deed you’ve performed. She attempts to speak, but he shushes her, looking at the two of you over his shoulder.

“Did you two do this on purpose?” he asks, capping his marker, and neither of you know what he’s talking about. It’s only then that Lois and him step aside to reveal the final score.

You lean forward, scrutinizing the numbers on the board. “We’re… even?”

Pursing his lips, Jimmy runs a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe this. There was supposed to be one winner, as in any other game.”

You raise your hands. “Clark should win. He's been preparing for this his whole life.”

“I’m sorry, but no,” he objects, crossing his arms over his chest. “You did some really nice things for the sake of the challenge. You deserve it more than me.”

“But you—”

“She wins!” Clark concludes, standing up to clap for you, encouraging Lois and Jimmy to do the same.

After the round of applause is over, you take a bow, wiping imaginary tears from under your eyes. “I never thought this could actually happen,” you say, glaring at Clark. “My partner in crime, you made this possible.”

“We’ve created a monster,” Jimmy whispers, loud enough for you to hear it, and tugs on Lois’ sleeve. “Alright. Now I feel uncomfortable.”

“You two… are disgustingly… cute!” she chirps, being dragged outside the room.

Arms clasped behind his back, Clark puffs out his chest, looming closer. Behind his glasses, his eyes flicker with mischief. “Congratulations. You can have that exclusive interview with Superman anytime you want.”

“So I finally get to meet him? What an honor.”

“Does tonight work for you? At my place. He told me he’s dying to have a word with you.”

“I see.” You twist his tie around your fingers. “Will you be there?”

“Of course. I’m the mediator.”

Before he can say anything else, you pull him forward by the tie, kissing him. He cradles your face in his big hands, his nose brushing yours lovingly as he trips over his own feet to close the door. You warn him about someone eventually walking in, but he just answers, “We can make it quick.”

To be fair, you like this new version of yourself, the one who’s been making an effort to be nicer.

The one who’s irremediably in love with Clark.

dividers by: @bbyg4rlhelps <3

[omtai]

between-songs transcript (arlington, august 2nd 2025)

the one missing word at the start is where i thought they said rizzler. someone with better ears please let me know what they said cause i know there’s no way its rizzler. under the cut 🙏

(before disappear)

Planet Texas! How the hell are you, we got good news for you, America! The Black Parade is back in action! And [something], this is the last time you dirty this armored suit! We are brought to you by the kindest, warmest gentleman, here tonight with us; please, a round of applause for The Grand Immortal Dictator. He’s been enjoying all the culture wherever he goes, and that man looks handsome. We are supported by the Draag National Auxiliary band, please make some noise. Shall we continue? Ahh! Ah! Come on!

(before wttbp) (elexecution)

Hello, Texas! We’re gonna have an election! No-no-no, we’re gonna have an execution! Everybody that came in today, you got a really free sign, you got a really beautiful free sign, you got a red side that says yea! You got a black side that says nay! We’re gonna hold a vote, and we’re gonna decide if these people get executed or if they’ll live. Their crime is collective: to question the vitality of His Grand Immortal Dictator. It’s up to you, America, what we do with them. For those that think, we put a bullet in ‘em. Let’s see the red, let’s see yea. Now, all who oppose, say nay! That’s a lot of fuckin’ red! It’s close though. I’ll let you know when it’s close. We gotta give the people what they want. Roll! Ready! Aim! Fire. Yes! Wait, hold on. Oh, one of ‘em didn’t get hit. One of our guys missed. We should’ve got somebody from Dallas to do it. Alright, well, let’s show her what she’s won, then! It’s brand new 2009 Baruva Dart. Gets great gas mileage. Looks pretty sweet. What’s in it? A brand new goat. In the back seat. Alright. Yeah, let’s get her over there, let’s get her behind the wheel of that brand new car. Whaddaya say, Texas?

(before house of wolves)

Bark. Bark. Bark. Bark!

(before teenagers)

[picking up ringing phone] Hold on, I’m calling my mom.

B STAGE

(before na na na)

Thank you Clarice. Please make some noise for Clarice Jensen. I’ve been a fan of her a while. And she’s, uh, also part of the Draag National Auxiliary Band. Along with Kayleigh Goldsworthy and Tucker Rule, please make some noise for them. Hell yeah. And please make some noise for Garbage! It’s a real honour to play with them, and think Shirley had to take off early, but, uh, I think for maybe some reason that’s not so awesome, you know? But, you know, we’ll put this song out to her, and we wanna thank them for playing with us. [To Frank] Happy birthday who? Butch? Butch’s—[to audience] oh, it’s Butch Vig’s birthday! Hell yeah! Happy birthday, Butch! Alright, this goes out to all of you. Let’s hit it. We’re My Chemical Romance from New Jersey.

(before sorrows)

Woo! Hell yeah. Hell fucking yeah. I was real excited for this show. We were real excited for this fucking show. Been a long time. This is a really cool room though—you know, like, the roof’s closed and everything, um, ‘cause one thing I forgot about when we got here the other day was how big the sky is in Texas. It’s fucking huge. So, you know, I was missing that a little bit tonight, but not really when you guys put your shit up in the air. Your shit that lights up. This ain’t the kind of song for it, though. That light-up shit, you know what I’m sayin’? This song is off the first record! ‘Our Lady of Sorrows’.

(before planetary go)

[gagging and retching] Thank you. Shit, yeah. This is our first stadium tour, thank you for coming out. It’s took a real fucking while to do this, but thanks for spending your fucking evenings with us, and most of your morning, or your afternoon, too, just hanging out. ‘Preciated! I feel like dancing. I really do. We’re gonna see how it goes on this grating, but… you feel like dancing, Caroline? Good news, America! It’s time. To dance.

(before not ok)

We got some friends out here tonight. Some very special friends of ours from different parts of our lives, want you to make some noise for our friends Livia, Byron, and King. They live right here in Dallas. And, uh, we had a really fucking amazing Thanksgiving, it was fucking awesome, America, it was so good. It was really good. Our friend Scott’s here, too, from the old comic shop days. I spotted him right away. He spotted me, I think, right away, but I think eventually, for sure, he did. Scott’s here, yeah. You see him? I can see him. Man. He introduced me to a movie called ‘Phantom Of The Paradise’. I’d seen the VHS before in, uh, Dollar Video, in the parking lot of A&P in Jersey, was like, ‘man, this cover’s so shitty.’ He’s like, ‘this movie’s fucking good, dude.’ You watched it? Fucking changed my life, man. Check it out. This song goes out to all of them. All those 47 people I just mentioned. Are you ready for the summer jam of all time?!

(before bullet with butterfly wings)

Insects. Insects. Wo-o-oah. This is a song I had a religious experience with.

(before the world is ugly)

Thank you, Texas. Hell yeah. This shit is fun, thank you for singing that with us. Let’s see. I think this is one we haven’t played yet on this tour. On tonight’s scheduled shout-out script—there’s more coming, but they’re for different nights, you know? So this one is for you guys. Let’s hear it. Both of them are. Anything you don’t hear me put out to somebody else, it’s—it’s yours, you know? This is a song off Conventional Weapons. It’s a beautiful song, for an ugly world. Are you ready? I think we should see those lights.

(before venom)

Thank you, Texas. Very beautiful to be here, beautiful to look at, thank you so much. We’ve always had good shows here, that’s one reason we—you know, um, we were looking forward to, but also, like, Texans are intimidating as fuck, so. With however many tens of thousands of you came to check out us, that’s pretty cool, right? Atleast someone in Texas digs this shit, right? Now, we—like, back in the early days, too, I remember, like, we’d drive for—forever, forever, ‘cause this state’s really big, it’s like, bigger than the UK, right? When you drive across? And sometimes Ray would stop the van and be like, ‘bro, get out! Get out!’ And I think it was Texas he made us get out, it was really late at night, and he was like, ‘bro, look at the fucking stars!’ and we were like, ‘what the fuck are you doing, man?’ but it was infectious. I was into that shit. I don’t know if everyone was, but I didn’t give a—motherfucker. Stargazing. Well, we got our own kind tonight. We’re gonna play you something off Revenge, if that’s okay with you! It’s a little bit metal, a little bit rock’n’roll, I don’t know…! That’s the stupidest thing I ever said. Let’s go, this songs called Gracias! Pour la Venin. Alright, let’s do it!

(before kill all your friends)

Fuck yeah! This is, uh, just as awesome a fucking night as we’d hoped. Real exciting to play here again in whatever fucking capacity, transformation that is. Whatever, man. Woo! Imagine I just do this, walk around the whole time—woo! [audience woos] Oh, you wanna do it too? Woo! [audience woos] Hell yeah. You guys wrestling fans too? Everybody’s a wrestling fan. I know Charlie’s a wrestling fan. Charlie Saxton who plays The Clerk over there, big time wrestling fan. He taught me all kinds of shit. How to take a hit, stage combat, kicking people over. He’s a talented fucking man. Alright, here’s a song that we haven’t played yet, it’s a B-side off Black Parade, it’s pretty fucking tasty. You know what I’m saying? [to Frank] I think this is your son’s favourite song, right? This goes out to you.

(before helena with intro)

Thank you! Fuck yeah, thank you so much. Got a couple more left for you guys. Alright, Texas! You may probably sing this one the loudest with us, possibly. We’ll help you start it out. We’re gonna start like this. Start like this.

(before war beneath the rain)

Thank you guys so much. It’s fucking magical. Fucking awesome. Hell yeah. Alright. We got one more. We’ve only played this once before. [creepy voice] There was a studio in North Hollywood. We made some songs, and then we broke up. And them songs just sat somewhere. And we said, hey, let’s play a couple, so we did. [normal voice] I don’t know what that voice is. I don’t have a name for it yet. But I’ve got my Good News America voice. That has nothing to do with Texas, it’s just America, you know? Horsemen… alright, this song is called ‘The War Beneath The Rain’.

[niwaart]

Family Without Light

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I want to thank these amazing people for helping me choose a name for the twins.

@lazyemmy @sir-lawrence-felidae @watchmakerhippo @r-u-s-s-i-a-h @obsessedwithromance

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[#Part1 #Part2 #Part3 #Part4 #Part5]

Damian and Tim carry out their little plan.

The plan was for Damian to befriend the twins, which would bring him closer to Y/N. He left school early and waited for them to arrive. Of course, the first thing he saw was his mother, Y/N.

His attention had been distracted since Y/N was out of the house. All the training Talia had given him to maintain his sobriety had gone to waste.

But his mind returned as soon as he saw her concern for the twins. He was almost burning with anger, despite all the nurturing and kissing she placed on the twins, but he had to calm down. Today's mission was to be their friend. He tried to sit with them in the cafeteria and walk with them after school, but... what he didn't expect was for the twins to hate him.

They ignored him.

No one had ever ignored him when he was nice!

Then Damian realized that becoming friends with the twins was a failure, and he didn't know why....

Well, maybe he knew why they hated him.

Because he was mean to their aunt, Y/N.

He hurt her... a lot.

So Damian gave in, seeing his dear mother once again take the twins to the car after school with a gentle smile that was supposed to be his...

As for Tim, he still insisted on meeting with Y/N. He knew Y/N could call him out on his lie by saying, "More cooperation will improve both companies," but he didn't care. He just wanted to see his mother. To have her pity him like she always did, to ask him how he was and why he looked so tired, to gently stroke his cheek...

He was in a bad mood, and all he wanted was to sleep while she told him a story. He regretted not recording her voice earlier, and now? He was going to take advantage of every kind word she said to him and record it to listen to later. Because he knows...

He knows deep down that his attempts are a failure, and that she'll never return home...

After Damien's school day ended in failure, and Tim's meeting ended in another disappointment, Y/N took the twins home from school. Upon arriving, she was surprised to find Dick outside the door, muttering. Someone might think he was crazy.

Y/N walked over to him, the twins trailing behind her. "Richard? What are you doing here?"

Dick froze. Any words he had planned to say evaporated instantly.

He was about to lose his mind when he heard the name... She didn't call him Dick, she called him Richard... Didn't she love him anymore?

Dick collapsed to his knees, startling Y/N who tried to hold him. "Are you okay?! What happened?" Y/N hugged him tightly, trying to determine if he was hurt.

Dick was speechless. How could he speak when his mother, the thing he thought would never change in his life, now... hated him?

The feeling of her embrace and her warm words made him cry like a baby. He cried on her chest, clinging to her as if she would evaporate if he left her.

Y/N gave the twins the house key and asked them to enter the house. The twins were confused and scared, so they immediately listened to their aunt's words and entered the house.

Y/N tried to get Dick up and get him to stand and let him inside, but he thought she was going to leave him, so he cried even more and held her tightly.

"No... you can't, please..."

Dick begged, sobbing, his words barely comprehending Y/N's words. So after making sure he wasn't hurt, she tried to calm him down.

"Richard, Richard, look at me."

Y/N tried to get him to lift his head, but he cried even more, muttering, "Not Richard... Not Richard..."

Y/N didn't understand what was wrong or why he was crying. "Can you stand with me? Come on, I'll take you inside. It's not good to sit on the floor like that... Come on, try to stand up..."

When Y/N said she wanted to take him inside, he didn't refuse or resist. He stood up, still holding on to her as she led him into the house. She closed the door behind her, sat him down, and sat next to him.

"Try to calm down. Take a deep breath. Come on..."

Y/N patted his back gently, trying to calm him down. Then she took the tissues from the table and began wiping his tears.

Dick began to calm down a little, leaning into Y/N's touch. He'd missed this. Living in Blüdhaven, being self-sufficient wasn't easy.

Y/N motioned for one of the twins, Mark, to bring a glass of water, while the other twin, Kevin, watched Dick angrily. He hated the Wayne family. They made their aunt cry over and over again, and no one comforted her, while she always comforted them for nothing.

Y/N comforted Dick and gave him the time he needed to calm down and collect himself. She didn't force him to talk as long as he didn't. He was holding her arm, so Y/N couldn't get up, so she left him alone.

Mark brought the glass of water and then sat silently next to Kevin. Y/N took the glass and slowly made Dick drink the water. Dick had calmed down by now, but he was still in a state of complete delirium.

Half an hour passed and Dick was asleep on Y/N's shoulder. Y/N gently moved him to lie on the couch.

Then she led the twins to the second floor and said calmly, "Go to your rooms and change, then I'll help you with your homework, okay?"

Mark nodded, but Kevin was angry, so he tugged on Y/N's hand to get her attention.

"Hm? What's wrong, Kevin?"

"Is that guy leaving soon? I don't like him. He cries like a baby," Kevin grumbled, frowning.

Y/N sighed, then picked up the twins and led them to their room. "Well... he'll be leaving soon, so don't worry about him. Just don't cause any trouble, okay?"

The twins nodded, and she placed a kiss on their cheeks and set them down to change. She went to check on Dick.

Dick was sleeping peacefully on the couch. She placed the blanket over him and stroked his hair gently.

Seeing Dick like this made her yearn for when he was a child, losing his parents at a young age. He was fragile, seeking the attention and affection he'd lost. She had no experience with children at the time, so it was difficult. So she read a lot of books, listened to Alfred's advice, and asked some parents about good parenting. She didn't like the responses of some parents, so she had to test it herself. She tried to see what he liked, what made him happy. At first, Dick thought she was trying to be his mother, which he completely rejected, and he didn't cooperate with Y/N.

He was stubborn, screaming that she wasn't his mother. Y/N tried to tell him that she wasn't trying to be his mother, but rather to give him what he was missing. To be a substitute. Because she knew what it meant for a child to be alone, without love or affection.

Y/N sighed as she remembered all the memories with children... even the bad ones...

She placed a kiss on the top of Dick's head and went into the kitchen to prepare dinner. But Kevin was watching from the top of the stairs, looking angrily and sadly, whispering:

"Is my aunt going to leave us?"

As for Damian, he was sitting in front of the school, despairing. Not because Jason was late today, but because he refused to leave. Jason was sitting on his bike in front of the school, looking at Damian, waiting for him to give up and agree to go home. He knew Damian was waiting for Y/N to show up and take him home, which she wasn't going to do.

Jason lit a cigarette and decided to wait with him. He had nothing to lose.

In the Batcave, Alfred was looking at Bruce with concern. "Master Bruce, I think it's time you took care of yourself and the kids."

Bruce barely moved from his chair as he worked on a new case. "This isn't the time for this, Alfred. And I also don't know what you're talking about."

Alfred sighed angrily and immediately turned off the screen. "I beg your pardon, Master Bruce, but enough is enough. The children are suffering on their own. They need a father, someone to lean on. You need to get out of here. Take Damian from school. Try to see Tim and talk to him. Your relationship with Jason is worse than before, so fix it. I don't want to hear any excuses. This is your family." With that, Alfred turned and went back inside, leaving Bruce watching in astonishment.

Bruce pulled back his mask as he looked at Alfred's back... confused. What did he mean by 'talking to Tim'? Wasn't Jason supposed to pick Damian up from school?

And what did Alfred mean by 'they're suffering'?

Alfred's words and his anger at him made him wonder... Was he missing something?

No, the question was, was this more important than saving Gotham? Because Damian is doing a good job as Robin, Tim is still a master tactician, and Jason still leads Crime Alley and hasn't killed anyone in a while. Dick is doing well in Blüdhaven, so why does Alfred say they need help? They're fine as long as they can save people, Bruce thought, then went back to work.

But he still wondered, was there something he didn't see in his sons?

@itsmadamehydra @sirenetheblogger @insomniaccorner @nommingonfood @supernaturalmarvelfan @moe-moes-stuff @stickyricewithmangosauce @emeraldcutie44 @randomlyappearingartist @type-ink @kittzu @west-cOast-OO @hjgdhghoe @sweetconnoisseurgardener @bat1212 @wassupbroski55555 @purplelady22 @c4xcocoa @sillyheartmoonnyx @hearts4mica @qardasngan @randomlyappearingartist @pink-jello-fish @kore-of-the-underworld @00hellohello00 @superstarbucks @rue-eru @middevil465 @devils-blackrose @crazycaoticsimp @faimmm @fto6 @cutelittlesugarfairy @devilslittlehelper @mercuryathens @nyxie-00 @jsprien213 @ferchu0406 @levi-09 @runaaclou @anthy-jay-ander @eyeless-kun @ryuushou @cat-lover-over-9000 @tatsuri-zomushiki @classicsimpforaaronwarner @justatimidcreator @confusedparticle @friedchicken345 @ilovvesleepp @anyisaravia2001 @simpforlanzhan @sirairi @reey0-2 @optimisticmoonunknown @iwannaflyaway @ladyred0 @bunniotomia @post-ed-ing-it @whiteoakoak @venomsvl @rtyuy1346 @lingxio @adri-atics @unadulteratedcoffeetastemaker @rochy2175 @matthewmoralis @athenaeg @saltyfriendsaladbandit @thatbitchanna27 @wpdarlingpan @agustdpeach @iiwsmr @seanwalbrecht @d4kf10w3r @trash-blog-reblogs @zephrnyx @theall-seeingone

[favoritesupernova]

in sickness and in health

⋆⭒˚.⋆ husband!kento x sick wife!reader

genre/tags/cw: husband kento being the best, wife reader is sick (nothing serious), kento calling you hun, vomiting, kento calls reader ‘hun’, suggestive of you squint ;), kissing, pls dni if you’re emetophobic :0

everyone knows kento nanami is a man of his word. the day that he pledged he would have and hold you in sickness and in health, he meant every single syllable.

so here you are, sick and nowhere near healthy. your body temperature is abnormally high and your head is pounding due to the natural light pouring in from your bedroom window. your stomach is not able to keep anything down but a few crackers and ginger ale.

it’s very rare that you or kento get sick, due to his strict vitamin schedule that he has you both on. but like all strong immune systems, they are bound to give in.

your sickness is nothing tragic, just a viral infection you probably got by standing next to someone coughing. kento, however, took it seriously. he took a whole week off to wait on his poor, ailing wife. you even tried to talk him out of it, but it was no use.

“hun, you need to drink some water,” kento says while he’s kneeling on the side of the bed, a full water bottle in his hand. you groan out of refusal. “no, kennn~, water makes my stomach hurt.”

his head lowers in frustration. “i know it makes your stomach hurt, but you will feel even worse if you’re not properly hydrated, especially if your fever breaks.”

you can whine, groan, and complain all you want, but kento will not let up, not even for one second. he unscrews the cap for you and puts a hand on your chin. “open,” and you do exactly that. he pours some water into your mouth and you obediently swallow.

he keeps this routine going for a solid ten minutes. every time you complain, he grabs your face and tells you the exact same thing. he might find this frustrating, but it’s just an excuse for you to have some sort of physical contact with him.

after a while, kento decides to make you some canned chicken noodle soup. leaving you alone for a small amount of time was enough for your body to go completely crazy. sweat is beading on your forehead and your body starts to shake.

you can smell the soup, making your stomach turn every way loose and saliva starts to coat your mouth. shooting up from your bed causing you to feel dizzy, making you stumble your way into the bathroom.

a hurl comes out of you, but nothing but spit is in the toilet. you’ve barely had anything to eat. only the water and some saltines. the bile is burning your throat, causing you to cough.

kento hears you, immediately rushing to your side. he holds your hair up until he finds a hair tie, brushing it out on your face. your back is drenched with sweat, but he doesn’t mind. his hand is there, patting your back gently, an aid to comfort you.

“it’s okay, hun. let as much out as you can,” his voice soothing despite how gross the situation is. your hand grasps the handle to flush and you sit back against his chest.

he brings his hand to brush the small strands of hair against your wet forehead before he hooks his arms under yours. you weakly stand up, still dizzy from the puking. kento gently turns you around and guides you to the sink, his hands on your collarbone.

with no strength needed, kento lifts you up, placing you on the sink, your feet dangling from the height. he bends down to get a spare toothbrush from the cabinet and starts to run the water.

toothpaste glides over the bristles and he runs the brush under the water, just the way you like it. just like the way he was giving you water, he is now gripping your chin to brush your teeth.

tears stain your face from throwing up, but more come out from embarrassment. “ken, i wook sho uggy righ nah,” you say, the foam making it harder to speak. he doesn’t say anything, focused on the task at hand.

kento grabs a cup of water, rinsing out your mouth, and takes a towel to wipe the remaining bits of toothpaste around your lips. you look at him so vulnerably, making his heart hurt. he places a kiss against your forehead and then your cheek.

“how could you kiss me when i look like this,” your words stabbing him at the chest. yes, you’re sick, but you’re also his wife. someone he loves and wants to take care of no matter what state you’re in.

suddenly, he plants a small peck to your lips, surprising you with his action. you would think that he’s against catching any germs, but he doesn’t even care right now. kento believes you're the most beautiful woman ever, even you're slick with after-vomit perspiration.

"3 years ago, i took a vow to take care of my wife, whether she was healthy or deathly ill. if a little retching makes me run away, then i am not the man you married." his words make you smile, pink adorning your face.

you wrap your arms around is neck, your lips finding his nose, further avoiding any spreading of viruses. he picks you up from the sink and carries you back to your plush bed.

he gently sets you down and tucks you in to your soft comforter. a bowl of cold soup lays on your nightstand, no sign of any heat. "maybe i should put that in the microwave," kento says scratching the side of his head.

before he has a chance to exit the bedroom, he hears your weak voice. "ken, can you please just stay with me," your voice trembles, trying to speak as loud as possible. how could he ever deny his sick wife?

slowly, kento sets the bowl back down, and walks around to his side of the bed. he scoots closer next to you, providing warmth to your shivering body. with one arm wrapped around your waist, and a hand fiddling in your hair, you fall fast asleep. he hears your light breaths, making his eyes grow heavy until sleep overcomes him. no matter what, kento will remain true to his words that he said on his wedding day.

[drafts-and-delusions]

hi! i wanna ask for a jealous baby x gn!reader fic lol. he’s my favourite saja and i really need more of him. Even what i write doesn’t satisfy my brain worms. Hope you can write this!

No One Else Gets This

Tags: gn!reader, fluff with possessive undertones, jealous!baby, protective behavior, first relationship, public date setting, food market date

ahhh baby saja... proper name.... place name... backstory stuff...

He’s never done this before. Not the dating part; the public part. The walking-around-with-someone-he-likes kind of thing. His hoodie is zipped up, cap pulled low, silver chain tucked beneath his shirt. Sunglasses hang from his collar, more for show than anything. The market lights above cast a soft, uneven warmth over everything.

You’re beside him, chewing on a pork skewer with sauce smeared on your cheek. You're grinning at nothing in particular, swaying slightly with the music playing from someone’s portable speaker a few stalls away.

He could stay in this moment forever.

Then someone ruins it.

“Hey,” a voice says behind you. “Sorry, just couldn’t help noticing you. You’re really cute.”

You blink and start to turn, confused. There’s a guy—probably your age, maybe a little older. Relaxed posture. Easy smile. The type that seems harmless.

But not harmless enough.

Before you can open your mouth, Baby steps in front of you. Not fast or aggressive, just decisive. He doesn’t raise his voice. Doesn’t square up or curse the guy out. But something shifts in the air, heavy and tense. You feel it immediately; the kind of pressure that makes your skin crawl without knowing why.

“They’re not available,” Baby says. His voice is calm, but final.

The guy puts his hands up, defensive. “Whoa, I didn’t know—chill, man.”

“I am chill,” Baby replies. His tone doesn’t change, but his eyes are different now. Flat. Unreadable. “That was me being polite.”

The guy mutters something and disappears into the crowd.

You peek out from behind Baby, raising your brow. “You good?”

He turns to you, jaw tight.

“He looked at you like he thought he had a shot,” he mutters.

“He asked if I was single. You answered before I could.”

He squints a little. “Yeah. You’re welcome.”

You try not to laugh. “You really don’t like it when people talk to me, huh?”

He doesn’t answer. Just pulls out another skewer from the bag and starts chewing, eyes darting back and forth like he’s still on edge.

“I’ve never dated anyone before,” he says after a long pause. “Never had to share someone. Never wanted to.”

You go quiet for a second. Not because you don’t know what to say—just letting him have space to finish.

He finally looks at you again. “But then there’s you. And I want to be out here with you. Want to eat greasy food and go on walks like we’re normal people. But no one else should get to look at you like that.”

You don’t respond right away. You reach up and wipe a little sauce from the corner of his mouth with your sleeve.

“You’re kind of hot when you’re scary,” you say.

He chokes slightly on the skewer.

“I’m always hot,” he grumbles. “Even when I’m not scary.”

You press a kiss to his cheek. “You’re doing great, first-time boyfriend.”

He scoffs. “Shut up. I’d fight a whole crowd for you.”

You smile. “I know.”

The two of you go back to eating under the warm, blinking market lights. And for a while, it really does feel normal.

[syrecjh]

Katsuki x Ghost quirk reader

Not all ghost are scary this ghost just wants a friend

Have fun with it get creative

──★ ˙👻 ̟ !! The Ghost Who Wasn't

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ || katsuki bakugo x reader, pure fluff??

You didn’t remember the crash—only the colors. A shimmer of headlights. The song you loved humming cut short by the scream of metal. Then nothing. Silence thick and endless, like the sea floor. But you existed, somehow. Not alive, not dead. Just… here.

Your quirk had always been strange, something about consciousness detachment—barely studied, barely understood. Now it clung to you like a second skin, a phantom echo of yourself drifting between walls and across cities while your body lay still in a hospital bed, unmoving. Breathing, but not awake. A soul unmoored.

At first, you wandered.

You phased through hospital walls without realizing. You tried to speak to nurses, to patients. But no one saw you. No one listened. It didn’t hurt—at least not in the way you thought pain would feel. It was a hollow ache, like a song stuck in your throat that you couldn’t sing out.

You could move, breathe, think. But not feel. Not really. You tried to touch doors, and phased through. You tried to ask for help, and they screamed. Eventually… you stopped trying.

People felt your presence and fled. You weren’t a ghost—not really. But people saw you and screamed. You didn’t blame them. It wasn’t your fault you left behind a chill when you passed. It wasn’t your fault your voice trembled the air like a draft through old wood. You just wanted to say hi. You just wanted a friend.

One night, your drifting carried you far. Past towns you didn’t recognize. An apartment window left slightly ajar. You slipped through without thought. Your curiosity always got the best of you.

That’s where you met him.

Katsuki Bakugo, pro-hero. Alive in all the ways you weren’t.

He screamed.

You blinked, floating just above his rug, your form a soft glow against the dark. You hadn’t expected him to see you. Let alone react like that. You tried to not laugh.

“I didn’t think you’d scare that easy,” you teased, hovering just inches above the floor, translucent and glowing faintly in the dark. “Sorry.”

He didn’t answer. Just glared, fists clenched, jaw tight, like he was waiting for the apparition to attack. But you didn’t move. You tilted your head, gentle and uncertain. And something about the way your eyes searched his—like you were seeing him, really seeing him—made him stop from blasting the room to hell.

“You’re not real,” he muttered the first night. “You’re just a dream. A dumb, creepy dream.”

But you came back the next day.

And the next.

And the next.

You learned his name. He never asked for yours. You didn’t remember it anyway. You only knew the way your presence clung to his walls like perfume, and the way his heartbeat thrummed louder whenever you got too close.

“You’re annoying,” he told you once, flopping onto his couch. You smiled and sat beside him, even if your body sank halfway into the cushion.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Over time, the fear faded. He stopped flinching when you popped into his living room. He stopped pretending not to talk to you when his friends asked who he was mumbling at. He even started leaving the window cracked open, just in case.

“Friends don’t hover over people’s heads at 3 a.m., y’know,” he grumbled one morning.

“I’m just making sure you’re sleeping okay,” you whispered, warmth in your voice despite the chill of your form.

He could never touch you. Never brush your hair out of your face, or feel the weight of your hand in his. But he saw your eyes—clear, bright, full of something ancient and new all at once. Beautiful. And sometimes he caught himself staring longer than he should. Wondering things he didn’t dare say aloud. He wondered if ghosts could cry, because yours always looked like they wanted to.

Then, one night… you were gone.

No shimmer of light at the edge of his vision. No teasing voice echoing from the kitchen cabinet. Just silence.

Bakugo tried to tell himself it was a good thing. That he was just tired, and the ghost-girl he had started caring about—against all sense and logic—was just a figment stitched together by stress, a trick of exhaustion. But it felt wrong. Like a window had closed in his chest.

He didn’t know your name. He didn’t know you were lying still in a hospital bed three prefectures away. That your body had started to stir. That your fingers twitched for the first time in two years. That when you woke up, your mother sobbed and clutched you as if trying to anchor your soul back to your skin.

You didn’t remember the nights in his apartment. Just fragments. A face that made your stomach feel warm. A voice rough as gravel and soft as wind. But when the nurses showed you old news articles of heroes to jog your memory, your eyes paused on him.

Something about the way he stood. The furrow of his brow. The ache of something you couldn’t name.

Months passed. You tried to rebuild your life. You walked streets you didn’t remember but somehow knew. You smiled at strangers and wondered why their faces didn’t pull you the way his did.

And then, fate—or maybe something gentler, something ghostly—stepped in.

A chance encounter. A convenience store at dusk. You walked out just as he walked in.

Your shoulders brushed.

He froze.

You turned to apologize.

Your eyes met.

And he stopped breathing.

Because it was you.

You, who had haunted his life so quietly it hurt when you left.

You, with your head tilted slightly in confusion, just like that first night.

Except now, you were real. Solid. Warm. Standing before him in the golden light of a fading sun.

You tilted your head. “Do I… know you?”

Bakugo didn’t answer right away. His heart was a thunderclap.

You didn’t remember him.

But God, he remembered you.

And maybe, just maybe, this time… he’d get to touch you back.

[helyanwe4608]

Okay, so I have a lot to say about this entire AI debate. And I hope this is a “nuanced” take and something that will make someone who’s in the same position that I was in a year ago, see sense.

This is a long text, so hear me out, read to the end and if you disagree, feel free to say so. Just remember I am a person and not just a username. Got it? Good.

Last year in spring I was in a shitty place mentally. I stayed up through the nights either sowing, crocheting, playing BG3 or “writing”.

I put writing in quotes, because I wasn’t so much writing as prompting. “Write a paragraph about XYZ” mostly Gale or Halsin fluff or advice I needed or comfort when I felt like I could not go on.

And believe me, I am very aware of how pathetic that sounds, but I was in a DARK place and all I wanted was an escape.

AI was that escape for me and I threw caution to the wind for the little dopamine hits I would get when it made me feel seen/ understood or just offered a distraction.

After a while I started wanting more than just promoted scenes and snippets, but I lacked the creativity, or rather the mental capacity to write this myself. So I kept prompting scenes and putting them together in a word document.

When I got on reddit and tumblr, I was confronted with many people’s negative opinions about AI and at first I dismissed it as fear mongering or just distrust.

English is not my first language and I told myself I wouldn’t be able to create this diversion for myself anymore if I did not use AI to “write”. And as long as I didn’t actively feed anyone’s work into the AI and I “edited” what I received, I was fine, right? I didn’t make money from my writing, so it’s not cheating.

Over the winter, my mental health improved, I got help and my energy returned to me bit by bit. I wanted to get back to writing because during therapy (and a stay at a clinic), I had learned again how healing it can be to string your own words together to express yourself.

I don’t remember the post I saw, or if it was here on tumblr or a insta-story by an author I love, but they essentially asked “What part of the process are you actually skipping when you use AI? The feeling? The catharsis of finding the right phrase? The learning experience?”

I also started seeing the patterns in how AI “writes”, repeating phrases, logical errors and how it can only produce a mimicry of real emotions and experiences. Because it is not human.

And I know there are 1000 other reasons to be against AI. The theft of intellectual property, ecological impact, the way people wanna use it for therapy treatments… and I agree to all these arguments.

This text is more directed to those who were like me and used AI to write because they wanted more content of something that gave them joy or kept them afloat. And who lacked the confidence and capacity to write it all themselves.

In spring, I started writing my current longfic project “A Wayward heart of Emberlight”, my self-insert Galemance BG3 fanfiction.

To say the first chapters are rough around the edges, even after a lot of revision and rewriting is an understatement. But I made them. They are mine.

I’ve learned a lot about myself by writing for Ada and by seeing her through the eyes of her companions, I think I’ve learned to see myself in another, better light as well.

Had I continued using AI blindly, my self-image would never have changed, neither would I have improved my writing or my English at all.

Yes, I need to look up words a lot, yes, I use a thesaurus so I don’t use the same word 8 times per page. And yes, I am not a fast writer. But that is perfectly normal for a writer?

The further I get away from the nautiloid, the more freedoms I take and the more I need to do this thumbtack-and-string conspiracy theory thing to keep my subplots together and the romance burning slowly.

But now, anytime I read a comment and the reader tells me they related to Ada’s struggles, with her anxiety or depression… I just feel seen. Really seen. By another human and not a robot.

Someone with a heart and a mind and a soul read what I wrote and they were moved by it. Never had a dopamine hit like that from anything AI made.

So, if you are like I was a year ago and you don’t see the harm and you feel like you’ll never create anything without AI, listen to me when I tell you that you are selling yourself short and doing yourself a massive disservice.

Ask people to beta read your drafts, post any cringey or rough oneshots you want. It’s fine. They will fit right in here, on AO3 or wherever you post them.

But please do not use AI to create less than mediocre content based on stolen property, that will never truly sate you and actively hurts the community of writers.

Hey. I think I hate you.

[rainandsentences]

Long Enough

older conrad fisher x f!reader

synopsis: he realizes what has been always in front of him...

rate: 16+

warnings: angst with fluff ending!

a/n: as many of you requested it, here it is part two of this <3

————————————————————————

He didn’t go after you right away.

He just stood there, on the edge of the beach, watching your silhouette disappear into the dark — the sound of waves louder than his heartbeat, but not by much.

Belly had looked at him like she was unraveling. And all he’d done was stand there and let it happen.

He sat down in the sand, elbows on his knees, hands rubbing over his face like that could undo the way you had looked at him — like he had broken something he never deserved in the first place.

And yes, he had.

So for a long time, all he could do was stare out at the water because he didn’t know what he expected to feel when Belly walked in. Maybe some kind of closure. Maybe relief. Maybe that old spark that used to make everything else fade out. Because, how could he be so stupid to make you feel like that? You didn't deserve it, not when you've done so much for him, when you had loved him... maybe that was it, he was afraid of going to the bottom of his heart and finally clear what he felt and what he wanted.

Not again. In the past, he lost Belly for his lack of communication for his fears and intrusive thoughts. And now, he couldn't lose you, not like that.

Now all that he felt was panic.

Not because he wanted Belly, she was his past and he could understand that.

Because he knew exactly what you would see in him in that moment — and worse, he knew you were right.

He smacked himself mentally for saying that, for saying that he was still hers. Belly's.

And he was right about it, but not in the way you had thought. She was still part of his life, she was his friend and one of his first loves.

But now they were adults, he was a doctor and the teenager fever was now away, away for good and for the best.

He didn’t hear Belly until she sat down beside him.

He didn’t look over. Just murmured, “Didn’t think you’d come.”

“My parents are the main characters, Conrad.,” she said gently. "You didn't wanted to see me?"

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you were surprised.”

He exhaled. “Yeah.”

They were quiet for a while. The music from the tent drifted faintly through the wind.

“She left,” Belly said.

“I know,” he whispered. “She should’ve.”

“She loves you, you know.” Belly looked at him. "It's been a while, Conrad. And honestly I´m so happy for you, she is really amazing and you both complement each other for good."

“I know.” Conrad said as he nods slowly. "But I'm a fool... she deserves better. She´s beautiful and so intelligent..."

"And you love her.”

That made him pause.

Then, voice low: “I didn’t know how much. Not until I saw her walk away.”

Belly didn’t try to console him. She didn’t tell him he was forgiven, or that you’d come back, or that any of this was easy.

Instead, she nodded toward the water. “I think we all got stuck in something we outgrew.”

Conrad’s throat tightened.

“You were the first boy I ever loved,” Belly added. “But we both know I’m not the last girl you’re going to so, I think you can try talk to her and fix up things," she said. “ I don't know what happened between you guys but she’s worth it, Conrad." She says softly. "Don't mess it up."

Ho looked away as he nodded. "It was nice to see you, Belly. Send your parents our congratulations." He said as he stood up and walked out of the party.

It was almost midnight by the time he got to your hotel. He didn’t stop to think about what to say — just knew that if he didn’t say something now, it would haunt him for the rest of his life.

He knocked once, then again.

You opened the door slowly, wearing one of his sweatshirts and eyes that didn’t look angry anymore — just tired.

His heart clenched.

“What do you want? Don’t say you’re here to explain,” you said.

“I’m not,” Conrad replied, stepping forward just enough that you could see the truth in his eyes. “I’m here to tell you what I should’ve said a long time ago.”

You didn’t speak, just crossed your arms and waited.

“I’ve been holding onto a version of myself that doesn’t exist anymore,” he started. “The guy who was in love with Belly — I think he faded out a long time ago. But I kept chasing his ghost, trying to make sense of a story that already ended.”

Your jaw tightened.

He kept going.

“And while I was doing that, you were there. With me. For me. You let me be quiet. You didn’t try to fix me, or compete with what I lost. You just loved me.”

His voice cracked.

“And I’ve been a coward. Because part of me thought I didn’t deserve to be loved like that. Especially not by someone like you.”

He took a step closer.

“But I do love you. I’m in love with you. And I think I have been for a long time, but I was too scared to admit that the thing I wanted most was right in front of me.”

You looked up at him, slowly, and he saw the tears in your eyes.

But you didn’t back away.

"You looked at her like the world shifted,” you said, voice shaking.

“I looked at her like I remembered something,” he said. “Not like I wanted it back. Not like I wanted her. Just... like I saw a chapter close for real. And I panicked, because I didn’t know how to tell you that it was over without making you feel like you were second choice.”

You looked away.

“I’m not asking you to forget tonight,” he said gently. “I’m not even asking you to forgive me yet. But I am asking you to believe me.”

Silence stretched between you.

Then, softly: “I don’t want to spend another day wondering if I’m going to lose you. I want to wake up and know that you’re mine because i love you... I love you with my whole heart and I as well, long to be yours."

You stared at him and stepped forward.

“I haven't forgive you, you know?,” you whispered.

"I understand." He nods sadly.

"But I love you too, Conrad." You say softly as you lean on and kissed him.

It wasn’t soft.

It wasn’t careful.

It was every bit of the ache and anger and want that had built between you for months — maybe years. It was teeth and tears and the press of his hands at your jaw, holding you like you were real, like you were home.

When you finally pulled back, you were breathless and so was he.

You looked up at him with trembling lips and a wet laugh. “Don’t ever make me feel like I’m less than again.”

“I won't because you're not.” he whispered. "I'm sorry, darling."

You nod.

“And I'm yours...” he said. "Okay?"

"Okay."

And this time, when he held you…

You believed it.

[pompompurinwife]

like me back!

18. kiss it better ☆

prev masterlist next

a suna x reader smau

written portion!

yn pov

taptaptap.

i make my way over to the window and slide it over. rin’s brought me a present this time.

i try to hide the satisfaction in my voice, but i think rin sees right through me, “flowers again? do you have a garden or something?”

with an outstretched arm, rin tells me to, “just take them.” then, he brushes off any excess debris off of himself, before perching himself on my bed like he’s done this a thousand times. i, on the other hand, keep my distance and lean against my desk across the room.

“so,” rin’s playful tone breaks the deafening silence, “are we just gonna keep staring at each other or what?”

i’m slightly annoyed at his attempt to make a joke given the circumstances. he cocks a brow at me, clearly trying to read my mind. i know i should be mad. i know i should be furious. i mean, come on. you get mixed signals for a few months, then you watch him kiss one of your closest friends? any girl with half a brain would dump him and move on. what kind of a fool would give him yet another chance?

i guess this makes me a fool.

i straighten up and cross my arms, trying to mask my emotions before replying, “you wanted to talk, so talk. i’m listening.”

i listen to rintaro as he tells me everything—exactly what happened, what his intentions were, and what his intentions weren’t. i can tell just from the sound of his voice how honest he is and how he truly never had bad intentions in the first place. he goes on and spares me no detail, but finally, and most importantly, he tells me how sorry he is about the entirety of the situation. he sounds so vulnerable, i almost think he’s about to cry.

how could anyone do this to such a sweet boy?

“are you still mad at me?”

“rintaro, i was never mad at you,” i pause and take a moment to stand up and make my way towards him, “i just never knew i meant so much to you. but i’m glad you told me.”

i move to stand directly in front of rintaro and cup my hands around his jaw to tilt his head up at me. i pretend not to notice the pink hue around his ears that definitely wasn’t there before. and i can almost feel the heat creeping up his neck and spreading across his face. we’re quiet like this for a bit.

rintaro gestures for me to step back so he can stand up. he advances towards me, while still keeping my hands around his neck, until the back of my legs hit the desk.

“it’s getting late, i should probably head home soon. but, yn, i need to know something… i need to know if i still have a chance with you.”

this makes me smile. i know i could say of course rin, you’ve always had me. i know i can tell him about how long i’ve waited to hear those words. but i don’t. because i can’t let him have me that easily. not after everything we’ve been through.

so instead, i pull his face towards mine and let him close the gap between our lips.

when i feel rintaro pull away i smile against his lips, “it’s a good thing you’re better at kissing than you are at communicating.” i pull back to look up at him and whisper, “keep it up and i might just make you mine.”

notes:

if you are confused ab the timeline it is around the end of november in the story!

i am LOVING how the story is gonna turn out!!!

muahahahhaa you guys probably thought it was gonna be super angsty

also i despise writing.... but i knew i had to write this chapter so i am sorry if it sucks LMAOO

also if you think yn forgave him too soon please look at this 🙏

no kana…..for now…..

taglist: closed

@ykmsnml @mizxuqii @soynomnom @dilaya @ashylovesfrogs @namesarehard123 @minstarrs @yueriasblog @meiups @ayumiheartsriki @hanarinlol @kozumiie @total-insanity @iwmkmp @andysdrafts @smellysluna @ilove-suna-and-oikawa @truthfullyfantasticassassin @riritaro @defnotra @malikazz243 @viietta @ist4rr @peteunderoos @aditionallyy @stars4pais @whitelpttia @sunaringo @mattsukitty @vivamints @sequesteredstrawberry @superawesomegirl33 @lexyqh @itsinesok @ventiij @ramyrunn @florasheart @strwbrrywnrgsm @yare-yare0 @bambi-lia @shookykookie30 @literallymocha @zciene @lovelytaes-blog @ttargaryenparad @urfavgeminisblog @hyukazwifey @sagitsukiss @beepbopeepbo @n3pt0nee @eternalangellic @cmrskywlkr @raveywrites @emotional-zebra @satan-223 @sugacor3 @accidentpronedork @k0z3me @tsukishimamanman @riripetal @sal3mfr0gz @tsuyukix @fishvstheworld @riiceandsoup @jnfectedz @sophiahearttss @lildidi @nivabiva @big-ballsack @cherrythebest @knkzshx @xsbraa @ilovecloudstrife

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Charm Me | Jeon Jungkook | Two Shot | Part Two

Summary: Your best friend's boyfriend's best friend is not someone you had planned on falling for, and honestly you hardly admit it to yourself most days but maybe, just maybe there's something you can do to test those waters… Pairing: f!reader x Jungkook (semi friends to lovers lol) Word Count: 8.4k~ (a little bit longer than the first part lol) Warnings: Smut and explicit language...yep...enjoy~ a/n: So yeah...part one came out came out five and a half months ago so if you want a refresher you can read it here

"Goodnight Jungkook" I say once we've finally settled down, both of us with our backs facing each other and although I've fallen asleep on him before something about this feels different.

The thought of being close to him like this, in a position where we could cross that line, the slightest movement leaving him on top of me makes my clothes feel so much more of a nuisance.

An inconvenience to something that's begging me to give in.

"You're still awake huh?" he asks, somehow sensing my unrest after we've been lying here for who knows how long. I hum as a way to alert to his suspicions, making him turn to face me and encouraging me to do the same, guiding my hips and making it close to impossible to say no.

"Is it the storm?" he asks while studying my features, knowing that if it's not that, there must be something I'm not telling him. I decide to nod my head, knowing that that's part of it, but the thing that's occupied my mind more than anything is him laying next to me.

"Tell me something" he says randomly making me frown. "Like what?" I ask, the question so open ended.

"Something you've never told anyone, or an embarrassing story. I don't know...something" he says, his smile soft making it hard to focus so I lay on my back and look up at the ceiling, genuinely wracking my brain for something that might fit into those categories.

"Um, I like to tell everyone that my favorite color is black when it's actually purple" I say, coming up with something pretty neutral but it's also very true.

"Wait really?" he asks, propping himself up on his elbow now, looking down at me and making it completely defeat the purpose as to why I switched to laying down like this. I nod my head as a way to confirm it.

"Like a really dark shade of purple that's almost black?" he chuckles but I shake my head. "More like lilac" I admit and he smiles. "What?" I chuckle and he shrugs his shoulders, although awkward from this angle is a very endearing reaction. "I never would've guessed you'd like a color like that". 

I echo his response with a shrug before quickly following it up. 

"Don't you dare tell anyone or I'll wring your neck. I don't need Sadie or my mother finding out and trying to make me all girly again" I poke his chest and he smiles, not finding my threat intimidating in the slightest.

"Your secrets safe with me princess" he says, making me clear my throat to break up the tension again because of the even closer proximity.

"What about you?" I ask and he tilts his head as if he didn't know what I was talking about. "What's something you've never told anyone before?" I echo and when he starts to think about it another rumble of thunder makes me scoot closer to him, this time so...much...closer.

After looking back up at him and seeing what I'd done I realize we've ended up in the position I had feared we'd be in, him hovering over me with his legs tangled between mine. We stay there for what feels like hours but is only a few seconds before either of us makes a sound.

"You wanna know my secret?" he asks, his voice huskier than I remember, leaving me nodding, not trusting my voice to answer.

"I've wanted to kiss you all night..." he says, looking down at my lips with me unconsciously wetting them, not daring to look down at his, "and the fact that I've held back this long..." he trails off, letting my mind fill in the blanks.

We stay like that for a while, him studying my features enough to know that I'm not opposed to the idea.

"Tell me to stop" he whispers, making eye contact before looking down at my lips again, leaning in, inch by inch. The chemistry between us visible, suffocating even, stealing my breath away before his lips have a chance to reach mine.

It's starts as a breath of a kiss, my eyes fluttering shut and with seeing my reaction he smiles to himself before pressing his lips against mine in the gentlest kiss I've ever received. One that would be hard to register if all of my senses weren't focused on what he might do next.

My eyes flutter open after he's pulled away, gaging my response leaving me placing my hand on the nape of his neck, pulling him back in, the kiss going from soft and progressing from there. 

We break apart when the thunder resounds again but he cups my cheek keeping me in place.

"Focus on me" he reassures "Just stay here and focus on me".

He rests his head against mine, both of us catching our breath and soon I'm nodding, pulling him back in.

His lips alone become a good distraction, taking away my sense of sight and focusing my sense of touch where our bodies connect and part.

His breathy moans come in next, addictive to say the very least leaving me wanting to chase more, bowing my back up into him. His right hand grabs my waist and pulls me closer, his hips pressed against mine making a small gasp leave my lips when I notice how much this is effecting him.

"Just leave it" he mumbles against my lips, diving back in and increasing the intensity, his kisses bruising, stealing the air from my lungs. When I pull away he doesn't let his lips leave my skin, going from peppering kisses along my jaw to ones that are a bit bolder.

His tongue and teeth work to find that spot on my neck that'll give me goosebumps, chuckling when he hears another gasp from me, my fingers in turn lacing through his locks and keeping him close.

He pulls back the slightest bit, blowing cold air on that spot, his lips having left it damp making me shiver under him.

"Jungkook wait" I mumble when his lips come back up to mine. He hums into the kiss, clearly not interested in pulling away anytime soon, in fact increasing the intensity, making it hard for me to get in a word edgewise.

"Wait" I finally say again, pushing back on his chest, both of us panting in sync, the rhythm of his heart beating strong against my palm.

"What is it?" he asks, studying my expression. "I didn't hurt you did I?" he asks, brushing his thumb along my bottom lip, properly love bitten.

"No, no you didn't hurt me. It's just...what are we doing?" I ask, my brows drawn together, needing to know what he's thinking. "Whatever you want to do" he says, caressing my cheek, reassuring me that he's here to comfort and not push.

"And if I say stop?" I ask, curious as to his reaction. "Then we stop" he says, looking down at my lips again, clearly still begging to taste them.

"And if I don't want to stop?" I ask, with me now shamelessly looking down at his. 

"Then I'm yours" he says simply as if that wasn't meant to make my heart race faster.

"Whatever you want, whenever you want, I'm yours" he finishes, leaving the decision up to me, my inner turmoil that much harder to contain.

Thoughts of what could and couldn't be. What should and shouldn't be. What I crave but deny senselessly.

Those thoughts run through my mind but right here, right now, I couldn't think of any reason why I should say no.

I study his features for a little while longer and when he sees my expression go from worry to curiosity he smiles, a smile that I've seen before that tells me everything's gonna be okay.

And so I kiss him, I kiss him soft and slow, taking in the way our lips push and pull apart, the way we share breath and consume each other, forgetting the world and simply being us.

Jungkook and I, friend and friend, lover and lover, man and woman.

I don't know what comes over me next, I'm not sure who or when it even started but soon kissing isn't enough, it's not enough and both of us knew it would never be enough.

With a want like this so raw, so electric, it would be impossible to stop at a spark.

His hips grind against me, or I grind against him, either one is plausible but once one of us starts, neither of us wants to stop.

"Fuck" Jungkook groans in my ear, his sounds go from that of an animalistic man, to a man with the desperate need to please, everything about it driving me mad.

Our eyes meet and I can't breathe, the vision of him on top of me, hair recklessly strewn about, his pink cheeks rival the color of his soft, swollen lips, his eyes glazed over with desire, pupils blown wide and I know that if we keep going there's no turning back.

His hips however, needfully move in stark contrast to his hands that have stayed on my waist, not going higher and not daring to go lower.

"More" I breathe out, one of the only words left in my coherent vocabulary. "More?" he questions, his lips now drawn into a soft smirk, letting his eyes drag up and down my form, being cut off by the way his hips are still pressed against mine.

"More" I say and pull him closer, his lips returning to mine and his hands now bolder, one slipping under my shirt while the other runs along my thigh, wrapping it around his torso to give him more room to grind into me.

"Are you sure you want this?" he mumbles against my lips through heated kisses in no way giving him the sign to stop. 

"Yes" I sit up, tossing my shirt to the side, his greedy hands immediately going to my chest, having taken my bra off for comfort, not having expected to be here with him right now. 

He leans down and captures one of my nipples into his mouth, his greedy tongue lapping at it as he alternates with the way he sucks it into his mouth, his teeth teasing me with little nips before going over to the other one to give it the same treatment. 

It's been a while since I've done anything like this making me incredibly needy, my sounds hard to keep at bay leaving me placing a hand over my mouth to silence them but that catches his attention making him let go of my swollen bud with a pop. 

"Don't" he says and gently takes my hand off my mouth, kissing my palm. "It's embarrassing" I argue but his expressions tell me that it's anything but. "It's sexy" he smiles against my palm before placing another kiss on it and letting go. 

I nibble on my lip, still hesitant of being so vocal but I can tell this is something he enjoys, something that makes him confident. He pulls my bottom lip out from between my teeth and leans back in to kiss me. 

"Let me hear how good I'm making you feel, yeah?" he says against my lips, breaking the kiss leaving me chasing his but he pulls back. 

So I nod, knowing that this might not continue if I don't give in. 

He smiles and kisses my neck, toying with my nipples again until I'm mewling, making it clear that I need more and so his hands trail down my body. They rest on my bare waist for a while, tracing patterns along my skin, taking his time even though he know's I'm desperate.

"Off" I say simply and tug at his shirt, if I'm not able to get him to go faster the least I could do is enjoy the view a little more, his strong stature being one of the things that I shamelessly enjoy viewing when he's not looking. 

He chuckles and sits back up, letting me take it off of him before I look at his toned torso for the first time in a while, surprised at how defined his muscles have gotten since the last time. 

"You can touch me you know" he says with a taunting tone, leaving me looking away, only looking back when he takes one of my hands and places it on his chest where his heart is. 

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he asks, the rapid beating of his heart so easily felt through his chest but I shake my head. "Do you now?" he asks and I nod my head, "A little" I reply because I'm really not sure the depths of his feeling or potentially just attraction he feels towards me.

"I won't say anything now but just...just think about it." he says and kisses me before I can start overthinking again. 

His actions escalate from there, toying with the tie on my sweatpants and seeing if there's any protest but when there's none he pulls back. "Can I take these off?" he pants, his eyes full of desire but also vulnerability, unsure if what he said has scared me away but I nod and he smiles. 

"All of it?" he says, a finger just barely slipping past the waistband of my panties, playing with the elastic until I nod. "Words" he says, nudging his nose against mine leaving me breathing out a 'Yes' right away, him placing a quick peck on my lips as a response, getting off the bed so he can slide them off.

He pulls it all off but catches the clear wet spot on my underwear and curses, looking up at the evidence of what this has done to me.

"So wet already" he hums, taking this time to slide off the rest of his clothing, climbing back on top of me so we're now completely laid bare, skin against skin, hearts beating as one.

"Tell me what you want" he says softly, one hand holding my hip, rubbing soothing circles into it while the other rests next to my head, propping himself up. 

"Help me forget about the storm" I flinch again when another thunder clap sounds and he hums, deciding not to tease me too much. He kisses me again, trailing down from my lips to my neck, along my chest, down my torso and settles on kissing along my waistline.

He's been parting my legs further and further apart as he goes down but now he's face to face with my center, his curses coming freely again as he takes in the sight between my legs. 

He blows cool air on me making my hips buck up as a result, the reaction making him chuckle. 

"So sensitive" he taunts but before I can respond he's placing a soft kiss against my clit, the sensation of that gentle touch makes me shudder.

He does it again, clearly enjoying my reaction but he doesn't stop at one, he takes his time kissing, sucking, circling his tongue around my clit, gaining him quiet whimpers, needing more but letting myself get lost in the feeling. 

I asked him to help me forget and he's going to take his time making sure of it. Forget the storm, forget my name, forget where we are and remember him. Only him.

I don't hold back my moans this time, pushing past the embarrassment since I know it gets him off from the reactions he gives me. Every moan gains me one in return, a whine leaves him humming, a scream leaves him trying to burry his face deeper into me even if he knows he as close as he could possibly be.

"Fuck I could do this all day" he murmurs, more to himself than to me, catching his breath before looking back up, seeing the panting mess he's already made.

A smirk tugs at his lips as he crawls back on top of me, resting in between my legs, his fully hard cock rubbing against my thigh. 

He kisses me again, letting me taste myself on his tongue, messy would be putting it lightly the way we share breath and let our tongues wrap around each other. 

"You sure you want this?" he asks, one of his hands trailing down my torso and stopping to toy with my already swollen clit. "Please" I pathetically whimper, my dignity beyond gone as my hips buck up against his hand which he soon pulls away, replacing it with his cock.

He watches as I shudder when he drags his tip through my folds and I can see how much he's enjoying this making me want to beg again but before I can he's pushing inside of me, my voice catching in my throat and my eyes shutting as I try to focus on loosening up for him.

"It's okay" he says, caressing my hip when he feels how tight I am around him. "You're doing so good for me, taking me so well" he says, coaching me into letting him in, his hand now moving to circle my clit which helps, my grip on his loosening slightly letting him push in further. 

"So perfect for me, so wet and tight" he hisses, pushing in a bit further, my face contorting with pain but he knows me well enough to know I would tell him to stop or slow down if I wanted him to.

He bottoms out when he knows I can take it, pressing a kiss to my cheek as I breathe through it. 

"Look at you, so pretty with my cock buried inside you, making me feel so fucking good" he says, his taunting tone driving me into submission, a whimper slipping past my lips.

"You sound so sweet baby. You gonna be good and show me how much you love it when I fuck you like this?" he continues, his words, his scent, his cock are enough to keep me from cowering away when another thunder clap resounds through the room.

"Jungkook" I shudder and it's enough for him to know that I want him to move, starting with shallow grinds, his hips moving at a sensual rhythm that has me pulling him closer. 

His moves get bolder as he pulls back half way before thrusting back into me a little harder, a gasp stollen off my lips as he hits my g spot. 

"There huh?" he hums, pulling out and hitting that same spot my gasp laced with a 'yes', my nails running down his back. 

He chances pulling out until just his tip is inside before he slams back in, watching my reactions while he curses, muttering how insane I feel.

He sets a pace that has me moaning his name, the steady rhythm of his hips driving me mad, his name slipping past my lips while he muffles his moans, burying his face in my neck. 

"So good, so fucking good. Fuck you're gonna make me cum if you keep doing that" he groans, my walls already fluttering around him.

A mess of unintelligible sounds come out of me while he curses and pounds into me harder, the pace at which he's going makes my toes curl. "You're so fucking wet, making a mess" he murmurs, both of us delirious and past the point of communication. 

He feels me getting close and keeps at his pace, putting his fingers in his mouth before pinching my nipple, rolling it between his fingers and hissing when I clench even more, his movements getting sloppy as he's close to tipping over the edge. 

"Please" I sob out, so so close. 

"I know, I know" he mumbles making it a point to make me cum first and it doesn't take much more that that.

"Shit" he groans and bites down on my shoulder, the pleasure it gives me in the heat of the moment tips me over, my release triggering his.

Once we've ridden out our highs he hovers over me, looking down at my freshly fucked state. 

"Wow" he pants out, his gaze glazed over and sleepy, thoroughly satisfied.

"Yeah...wow" I echo, smiling up at him.

"You're so pretty" he compliments leaving me biting my lip.

"You feeling better now?" he asks softly after he slips out, both of us hissing from the hint of overstimulation.

"Mhm" I hum, watching him as he lays on his back and cuddling close on impulse but then second guess myself and try to pull away. 

"Where are you going?" he asks pulling me closer than I was before, tangling our legs together. "I wasn't sure if-" "I earned this" he says with finality making me chuckle. 

"You earned this?" I ask, his reaction puzzling. 

"Yes. I earned sleepy, lazy, post orgasmic cuddles with you" he huffs making me giggle, nuzzling against him and getting even closer if that were possible.

He reaches over to the night stand and pulls out a few tissues, softly asking me to open my legs so he can help me clean up a little. I thank him softly and he hums before tossing it aside, neither of us worried about where it landed in favor of staying close.

No more words are said after that, just the sound of our steady breathing and the soft rumbling of thunder way off in the distance.

~~~~~~

He slips out of bed the next morning soon after we've woken up, hearing my stomach growl making both of us chuckle. 

"We can just eat cereal" I argue, trying to keep him here but he shakes his head. "The bakery is just down the street. I'll be back in a bit" he says and leans down, kissing my pouty lips before heading out.

I sigh happily and go to grab my phone, seeing about a dozen texts from Sadie apologizing for forgetting I needed a ride home.

I let her know Jungkook gave me a ride and she jumps to conclusions to which this time happen to be right but I won't tell her that...not yet.

She calls and tries to FaceTime me but I decline it, getting up and running to the bathroom to see the state of me, my neck and chest littered with hickeys  and I run back to my room and put on some shorts, grabbing one of my big hoodies and slipping it on, throwing the hood up seconds later and tying the strings before calling her back.

"Why'd you decline my call?" she pouts and I chuckle nervously. "Sorry I was naked" I say adjusting the hoodie and I can feel her suspicious glare through the phone.

"Are you cold or something?" she asks, pointing out my bundled up state and I nod. "Yeah it's a little chilly. I turned up my a/c last night and forgot to turn it back down when I went to sleep" I say but my explanations clearly make no sense.

"It was cold and raining last night" she dead pans and I chuckle and get out of bed, walking over to the kitchen to get some water. "Anyways, enough about me. How was your night?" I ask but she shrugs. 

"It was normal. You and Jungkook were still in the living room when we went to bed so we didn't want to get freaky or anything if that's what you're wondering" she blushes, knowing it's happened before, both Jungkook and I quickly seeing ourselves out on those nights...or days honestly.

Although that was a bit earlier in their relationship so they've thankfully toned it down by now.

"How was your night? I saw that Jungkook came over on his motorcycle last night so he gave you a ride huh?" she taunts and I groan. "I'm hanging up now" I say but she quickly apologizes and keeps me from hanging up. 

"I just wanted to let you know that if anything happens..." she says and I hear the passcode on my door being punched in, putting myself on mute so she doesn't hear him come in. "...you have my blessing. Both of ours actually" she giggles and I glance up as Jungkook walks in.

His messy bed head combined with his helmet hair that he's clearly been trying to fix on his way up gives him a soft boyfriend look. The next thing that catches my eye are the fact that some of the marks I left on him last night peak through the collar of his shirt making me gulp.

"Are you even listening to me?" she growls making me look back at the screen. "Y-yeah, yeah sorry. I gotta go S but thank you...I'll uh...keep it in mind" I say, not so subtly glancing between her and Jungkook.

"Is someone there with you?" she asks, my ability to hide things from her are getting worse and worse. "Okay bye!" I say and quickly end the call, placing my phone with the screen facing down and placing it on silent.

"Sadie?" Jungkook nods to the phone and I nod to confirm. "Yeah just Sadie being...Sadie" I say and grab some plates for the pastries he brought.

When I turn around to go back to the table he's right behind me making me bump into his chest.

I look up at him and he slips the plates out of my hands and places them down on the counter before pulling on the drawstrings to untie the knot that's securely tied under my chin. 

He gently takes the hood off my neck and places his hand on the side of it, rubbing his thumb along my pulse point and trailing it along some of the other marks he made.

"Hiding?" he rasps out, his morning voice deep and goes straight to my core but I can tell that in his teasing tone there's some vulnerability behind it. 

"Not really" I say softly but he doesn't buy it, tilting his head at me and I look down at the floor, him tilting my chin up seconds later. 

"If you're not ready I understand...but I can't go back to being in limbo with you" he says, his thumb now caressing my cheek and I nod, leaning into his touch. 

"I'll think about it. I promise" I say, just audible enough for him to hear and he hums, leaning down to kiss me. I accept it right away, running my fingers through his hair and gasping into his mouth but before it's able to go much further he pulls away, resting his forehead against mine.

"We can't do this again until you decide...I don't want to torture myself" he admits, his voice cracking with vulnerability and I nod, pulling away from him and he lets his hands fall back at his sides. 

"I got you your favorite" he says, quickly changing the subject making my brows raise. "You know my order?" I ask and he nods, rubbing the back of his neck, his ears turning pink as if he hadn't fucked me into my next life last night. 

"Sadie has had Jayson and I pick up food from there enough that I kind of know it by heart..." he trails off but then quickly clears his throat and turns around. "I got some other stuff too though in case you were in the mood for something different" the words tumbling out of his mouth as he grabs the plates from the counter, opening the pastry box 

He places one of the plates in front of the chair I tend to sit on while he takes the one where Sadie usually sits at right next to me. I smile at his want to stay close to me, his attachment clearly growing since last night and I can't deny that things feel...different.

Not just the sex but the intimacy of how he truly cared for me and wanted to help me through the storm. His warmth and presence, his soft gaze and strong hands on me showing that no matter what he was going to protect me.

"Aren't you hungry?" he asks softly, seeing as though I haven't touched a thing. "Sorry, I was just thinking" I say and hum when the flakey pastry hits my tastebuds, the almond flavor from the croissant dancing along my tongue. He smiles at the sight and starts eating his as well. 

Breakfast includes comfortable silences caused by my day dreaming, little conversations popping up here and there making it feel natural...domestic. 

"So...what are your plans for Va-" his words are cut off by the sound of my phone vibrating and he deflates slightly when I reach for it. "Crap it's my mom. I should take this" I say apologetically to which he smiles sadly leaving me debating on if I should but stand up and go back to my room.

"Mom?" I say softly and she rambles off how it's been way too long since I've called her and that it took me forever to answer my phone. I apologize and tell her that I'm spending time with a friend so now isn't the best time to catch up. 

"A friend?" she asks, her lecturing slowing down, intrigued by the thought of it. "A new friend?" she asks and I hum. "Technically not very new but new...ish" I say and it gets her even more invested. "And is this friend a male or female? Does Sadie know them?" she asks and I sigh.

"I'll tell you later mom, I have to go" I say and quickly hang up, knowing that I'm going to regret doing that but I can't keep him waiting when he was in the middle of asking me what I think he was going to ask. 

I take a deep breath in and out before tossing my phone on my bed, making certain it won't interrupt us again. I shake off the nerves from the call before going back to the kitchen where I find him messing with his phone, his brows bunched together in concentration.

 "Everything okay?" I chuckle when he quickly locks his phone and places it on the table as though he's been caught red handed. "Yep, everything's fine" he says, forcing a smile while his cheeks are blushing from embarrassment for some reason.

"You sure about that?" I give him a lopsided smile and he nods. "Is everything okay with your mom?" he asks and I hum. "I haven't called her in a while so she was just checking in" I shrug and take a sip of my drink to which he nods and does the same.

"Who were you texting?" I ask, prodding since he seemed to have had quite the reaction when I came back. "Oh, um Jayson was just checking in...wanted to know if I got home safe last night" he says and my mind wanders off to everything that happened making me clear my throat to stop my spiral. 

"So...what did you tell him?" I ask, trying to hide the fact that I'm freaking out because if Jayson is asking then it probably means that Sadie asked him to ask Jungkook and if Jungkook told him then he probably told Sadie and she's going to kick my ass because I didn't tell her first.

"I said I did" he replies simply and I let out a breath. "They can't know about this" I say and he deflates again but I try to take back the words I regrettably blurted out as a defense mechanism. 

"At least not until we know what this is..." leaving his posture straightening just the slightest. 

"Right" he agrees, knowing the premature reveal could harm not only to us but to them too.

"But sorry what were you saying? You know, before my mom had cut you off" I ask and I can tell he's trying to shake off the slight disappointment from earlier. 

"I was just going to ask what your plans are for tomorrow?" he asks but I know he's more interested in the day after tomorrow.

"Well it's the day before Valentine's Day so Sadie and I usually do a Galantine's Day with just the two of us. Her idea, not mine" I roll my eyes making him laugh, both of us knowing that it's a tradition I look forward to despite my eye roll.

"What do you guys usually do?" he continues, genuinely interested and so I oblige. 

"Well it's the one night a year where she can actually get me into a dress since well..." I motion to myself and he chuckles. "I get it, not the girly type" 

"Exactly. It's the one day where I humor her and get dressed up. She does my hair and makeup too so I tend to finish up looking like a completely different person" I finish and when I look back over at him he has his chin propped up on his fist, just gazing at me. 

"What?" I furrow my brows. 

"Has she ever gotten you in a lilac dress?" he teases and I toss a napkin at him. 

"No! My one condition is that it has to match with my vibe so to say. So no pastels, no bright colors, no patterns and absolutely no bows" I say, the last part being something Sadie and I have fought over for years.

"You guys really compliment each other, don't you?" he teases and I huff, "Opposites attract no? That goes for friendships too" leaving him shrugging in agreement.

A silence settles between us and soon he's glancing at the clock on the wall and cursing.

"What's wrong?" I ask, watching him as he cleans up and grabs his stuff, rushing around as if he couldn't get out fast enough.

"I have a deadline to meet and it completely slipped my mind. I'm so sorry" he says, clearly wanting to stay. 

"It's okay. I can't hold you hostage for the entire day" I chuckle and watch him bounce back and forth, going in to my room to see if he's forgotten anything.

Once he's satisfied with the thought of having everything he walks over to me and I can tell he doesn't really know what to do. In the past we would just nod or wave but after last night...

I push the guessing work aside and decide to give him a hug, my arms wrapping around his torso making him chuckle and pull me closer. 

"We'll see each other again soon yeah?" he asks, breathing in my scent one last time and I hum. 

"Now get going. I don't want to be the reason you get in trouble" I push him away, smiling up at him and the next thing I know his lips are on mine, a stollen kiss leaving me speechless.

"Bye" he grins against my lips, knowing he caught me off guard leaving me glaring, him chuckling in response before stepping out and closing the door behind him, sending me one last wink before he leaves.

I let out a breath and lean against the table next to me.

What am I going to do?

~~~~

Jungkook texts me throughout the rest of the day but I can't bring myself to respond. With him not being here and the fantasy of it all withering away the reality of it all comes back to me.

I slept with him. 

My best friend's boyfriend's best friend.

Just thinking about it is complicated enough.

I have to stop this before it goes too far. 

If not for me then for Sadie's sake.

Sadie really likes Jayson, and I think Jayson really likes Sadie so I don't want to be the one that messes that up. She's had her heart broken one too many times and I'm not going to be the one that stands in the way of her happiness. 

A buzzing sound breaks me out of my depressive train of thought with a FaceTime call from Sadie again.

"Why haven't you been responding to my texts?"

"Well hello to you too" I sigh and settle in for a lecture. 

"What happened between you and Jungkook?"

"What makes you think something happened between us?"

"Because Jungkook is freaking out on Jayson saying that he fucked things up and that you hate him now" she says, no doubt making it sound way more dramatic than it actually is.

"I just need time to cool off. I think I let things go a little too far" I admit, my voice trailing off at the end.

"What did you do?" she drags out the last word but I shake my head.

"It was a mistake anyway" I admit but even I don't believe myself.

Sadie sighs and looks down.

"I know you like keeping people at arm's length but that's no way to live" she says and although simple I know her sentiment is right.

"I don't keep you at arm's length" I say, proving that's not always what I do.

"Yeah but when others get too close you push them away....you're gonna regret it if you do it this time around" she levels with me because we both know she's right.

"I should go. I have to mentally prepare for tomorrow" I joke trying to get her off of this topic but I know she won't go down without a fight.

"But he-"

"No"

"But Jayson said-"

"No Sadie"

"Can't you just listen to me?"

"If it has anything to do with him then no...I'll figure things out on my own"

She sighs again and Jayson calls for her in the background.

"I gotta go" she mumbles and I hum in response.

"You can take it out on me tomorrow with your whole makeover thing" I offer which tugs at the corner of her lips.

"See you" she says as her goodbye and I nod before hanging up.

~~~~

I knock on Sadie's door the next morning and she greets me with a way too bright smile for my taste.

"What are you up to?" I mumble suspiciously, brushing past her before she even opens the door any wider. 

"Why do you always think I'm up to something when I smile at you?" pouting while closing the door.

"Should I read off all of the evidence because we literally have all day" I place my stuff down on the table with a thunk.

"What did you even bring?" she says, already snooping through the bags.

"Wine"

"You hate wine"

"Well now I don't"

She chuckles at that and shakes her head, placing it in the fridge and pulling out the pink lemonade she made for us. 

A yearly tradition we hardly ever skip out on.

"To you" she says, holding up her glass to cheers me which I do with my brows furrowed in suspicion.

"Stop looking at me like that and come see the dress I bought you" she says and I sigh, following her to her room.

When we get to the door she tells me to close my eyes and I humor her, holding out my hand so she can lead me inside, happily tugging me inside.

"Okay open!" she smiles, holding the dress up for me, the little black dress with a square neckline. Simple but sexy.

"Are you trying to seduce me Sadie?" I tease taking the dress from her, a light dusting of pink on her cheeks leaving her huffing. 

"No, I just thought you'd look hot in it okay? Let me have my fun" she says and pulls out a box of red bottoms leaving me shaking my head over and over. 

"I can't accept those" I shake my head but she shoves the box into my hands. "Yes you can and you will" she argues back with a vigor that tells me that she's not backing down on this.

"You know I used my Dad's card to buy it so it's no biggie" she shrugs and when I try to argue she places a hand over my mouth, my hands being full and unable to shrug her off.

"Say 'Thank you Sadie'" she coaches, not planning on removing her hand without it leaving me mumbling against her hands her nodding in approval and finally releasing me.

"I don't understand why I need shoes if we're just staying here?" I say and she shakes her head.

"Just humor me okay? Isn't this the one night of the year where you're supposed to do that anyway?" crossing her arms and cocking a brow at me leaving me sighing in defeat.

"Now come on, I found a new recipe on Pinterest that I wanna try out tonight!" she says, taking the dress and shoes from me and placing them down on her bed, giving me a glimpse now of the black bow on the back.

"Sadie, no bows" I grumble but she scoffs and pulls me out of the room.

"It's a black bow so you'll live" she argues and again I give in, consciously doing it more than usual due to the guilt I feel for keeping this from her.

~~~~

"Don't drink too much" she says, pulling away my second glass of Rosé, the sauce still cooking on the stove, the pasta waiting to be added once emulsified.

"You're being rather controlling tonight...like more than usual" I point out and she shakes her head a little too vehemently to not be concerned.

"I just want you to enjoy your night and not wake up with a hangover tomorrow" she points out and I sigh, deciding to go check myself out for the hundredth time tonight.

"Will you stop fussing? You look hot" she says, glancing over at me turning this way and that, huffing when I see the bow.

"It feels like you put in a whole lot more effort than you usually do into making me look sexy this year that I just don't know how to act" I point out, my boobs pushed up and lips painted a red that I can only imagine being named something to the effect of 'Blow Me'.

"You said I have free reign as long as I stick to the rules and I did so stop complaining" she scolds and I walk away from the mirror fixing a hair that's out of place.

Once she sets the sauce to simmer for a few minutes she convinces me we have to take pictures together which is also a tradition and once we finally finish we're both practically giggling like we used to in the good old days, interrupted by the sound of the doorbell.

"Can you get that? I forgot to get some bread to go with the pasta" I hum in response, watching as she goes back to stirring the sauce again so it doesn't boil over.

When I open the door I'm expecting some teenage delivery boy but when I'm met with two very familiar faces dress very well my face falls.

"Good to see you too" Jayson chuckles and I know now that this was all just a set up, leaving me glaring back at Sadie.

"It was both of our idea so if you're going to take it out on anyone take it out on me" he admits, closing his eyes and bracing for impact, waiting for my wrath to rain down on him, only being met with a deep sigh and me stepping to the side.

"That's it?" he opens one eye and I cock a brow at him. "Did you want me to go after you? Because I definetly can" I say and he shakes his head and runs to hide behind Sadie, leaving me facing him...Jungkook.

"Hey" he says softly and I return the sentiment.

"You look amazing" he says, taking a tentative step inside, close enough to make me tilt my head up to meet his gaze.

We stay there for a while, neither of us saying a thing until Sadie curses and turns the heat off, seemingly abandoning ship once I opened the door.

"You too" I say, finally responding after getting lost in his gaze.

"They both told me you guys decided to change it to a dinner with the four of us tonight. I guess we fell right into their trap huh?" he admits, his cheeks now a subtle shade of pink.

"I guess so" I step aside, the lilac tie around his neck not going unnoticed, closing the door soon after he steps in. 

I shake off the nervous feeling and keep reminding myself that everything is fine, I can get through a dinner with them, no problem.

"Oh would you look at the time? We're going to be late if we don't leave for our dinner reservations" Sadie says, quickly putting the finishing touches on the pasta with Jayson soon serving two plates and setting them across from each other.

"Dinner reservations?" I ask, my voice cracking a little at the thought of being alone with him.

"Yeah my parents wanted to have dinner with us tonight and they got us reservations at this really nice place so I couldn't say no" Sadie explains and I know it's a lie but I give in, knowing it's not worth it. 

It's just Jungkook.

One dinner alone with him.

I'll be fine.

"Well you two have fun" Jayson says, quickly helping Sadie put on her jacket and they're practically running out the door.

"But-" I start to put up the slightest fight but the door is practically closed and locked by the time I come to.

We stand there for a second, just us two.

Alone.

Alone again.

"Are you hungry?" I offer, knowing I'm not the only one who got hoodwinked.

There's no reason as to why we shouldn't at least try to enjoy ourselves, right?

"Me?" he quickly asks, whipping around to face me, having been partially turned towards the kitchen, still in shock of the great escape the two of them made, leaving us no time to settle in.

"Who else?" I chuckle softly and walk past him, going into the fridge to grab the half full bottle of Rosé to serve us but he shakes his head. "I've gotta drive home tonight" he says in explanation but I don't push it, offering him the pink lemonade instead, seemingly a shade darker than before.

"Cute" he smiles leaving my heart fluttering. 

Even though I know he's talking about the drink the compliment still goes to my head.

I pour myself some of the pink drink as well, bringing our glasses over to the table and motion for him to sit down but he comes over to my side instead and pulls out the chair for me.

"I thought you said no bows" he chuckles after noticing the simple but prominent bow I swore up and down against but my protests fell on deaf ears.

"It was either this or pink" I explain leaving him chuckling, "Anything would look good on you but I do prefer black" his hand subtly brushing my shoulder when he pulls away, walking back around to take his seat.

I hum in thanks, holding back the shiver my body is begging me to let out, ignoring it in favor of placing my napkin in my lap, goosebumps still rising on my skin.

"Please feel free to say that you hate it. It's a new weird recipe that Sadie wanted to try out" I explain and he chuckles, taking the first bite with me gauging his reaction. 

He chews once, twice, thrice before he grimaces in place of the smile I know he's trying to fake making me stand up and take his plate.

"Wait no I really like it!" he says, trying to take the plate back with shaky hands but I'm faster.

"Pizza or Chinese?" I say while scraping the pasta off the plates and into the trash. 

"Pizza" he sighs, walking over to the sink to start washing the dishes after ordering the food despite my protests, him giving me the task of drying.

~~~~~~

A knock on the door notifies us to the arrival, him going to pay while I finish up drying and putting the rest of the dishes away.

"Don't hate me for this" he mumbles, his cheeks slightly pink as he opens the box, a heart shaped pizza inside with equally as heart shaped pepperonis leaving me covering my mouth with both hands to hold back the snort I was about to let out.

"I thought it was cute" he sighs and places it down on the table.

"It is very cute. I'm sorry I just wasn't expecting that" I chuckle again while grabbing a pair of plates and some napkins, taking up our respective seating arrangements again.

He lights the singular candle between us leaving the corner of my mouth turning up.

"What?" his doe eyes genuinely confused with my reaction.

"We're having pizza, Jungkook" I shake my head.

"And? Pizza can be romantic" he huffs, his mouth opens and closes a few times after, his efforts of adding in romantic elements obvious even without his verbal admission.

"I-"

"It's okay. Just eat" I smile softly but from his view the lipstick alone has his mind wandering, the sight tempting.

"You okay?" I ask, noting his hesitation leaving him clearing his throat and nodding, not so gracefully stuffing his face seconds later.

"Slow down" I laugh and he does so, dropping the slice onto his plate.

"Look-"

"No. I know what you're going to say" he cuts me off before I can even start.

"What was I going to say?"

"That we shouldn't have done what we did last night. That it was a mistake and that it can't happen again" he says, reading me like a book. I guess it's not that hard of a feat now a days.

"Jungkook" I sigh, having lost my appetite, and setting my pizza to the side.

"Don't you 'Jungkook' me. Something happened last night and if you won't admit it then I will"

"Please don't"

"I can't keep pretending like I don't want you" he admits, his words sharper than I've ever heard, flinching with their impact.

The gravity of them float between us, neither of us saying a word for what felt like hours but was only mere seconds by the time I stand up. 

I turn to go back to the kitchen but he catches my wrist, his grip just firm enough to keep me from slipping away.

Both of us freeze again, my eyes locked on his hold and his on my face, reading every micro expression. 

Before I can stop myself I rip my wrist out of his hold and use my hand to pull him closer, pressing his lips against mine in a bruising kiss, different from the ones we shared before.

These ones are more honest, hungry. His impact against my body subsequently pinning my body against the wall behind me, his hand cradling the back of my head to soften the impact.

He breaks away just far enough to keep my lips from easily capturing his again, sharing breath and resting his forehead against mine.

"I can't do this unless it's real" his voice breaking at his confession and I know that I can't keep hurting him, hurting myself just because I'm scared.

"It's real" I breathe out and that's answer enough, stealing my breath away with his lips beats later.

That night our hearts beat as one again, not from lust or from the need to protect but from love.

Pure.

Honest.

Fragile but true love.

If only we knew that the little red bottle tucked under the sink was the reason that our hearts rang true.  

~~~~

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[smokebombsandspotlights]

🏁“My Dad’s Better Than Yours"

Pairing: Platonic!Oscar Piastri x GN!Reader (Formula 1 Driver)

Featuring: Lewis Hamilton (your F1 dad), Charles Leclerc (Oscar’s F1 dad), 2025 grid including Kimi Antonelli, Ollie Bearman, Lando Norris, Max Verstappen, George Russell, and more

Genre: Platonic, Humor, Fluff, Found Family

Warnings: Swearing (light), media day chaos, playful banter, group teasing

Word Count: ~2,345

Request: @kariskae here u go 💗

[📸 INSTAGRAM POST – @f1: Media Day Madness in the Paddock]

📸: Oscar Piastri and Y/N play-fighting in front of the press zone while the rest of the grid watches, confused.

caption: Is this how Australia raises their F1 stars??? 👀🇦🇺 #MediaDayMayhem #F1DramaButMakeItFamily

It starts, as all chaos does, with a microphone.

More specifically, it starts with Oscar Piastri trying to snatch the F1TV mic out of your hand in the middle of your team’s scheduled press slot.

You: “Oi! I’m answering that question—back off!”

Oscar: “No, you’re just using it as another excuse to tell everyone that your F1 dad is better than my F1 dad.”

You: “Because it’s true?”

Oscar: “Charles is literally more stable than Lewis!”

You: “LEWIS HAMILTON IS A SEVEN-TIME WORLD CHAMPION!”

You’re half yelling, half laughing—Oscar’s already got an arm wrapped around your waist, trying to pull you away from the mic, and your hand’s gripping it like it’s the last Vegemite sandwich on the grid.

The reporters don’t even know who to point their cameras at anymore.

Behind the cameras, you can feel the entire press bullpen and half the paddock watching you both like it’s a live reality show.

Because, to be fair—it kind of is.

🗓 Flashback: Three Years Ago – Your Rookie Season

You weren’t even halfway through your first season when Lewis Hamilton, legend himself, declared during an interview that he was “adopting” you.

“I’m claiming them,” Lewis had said, laughing, after watching one of your onboard overtakes at Silverstone. “They’ve got guts—and I respect that. I’ll be mentoring them from now on.”

You nearly dropped your water bottle when you saw the clip. You hadn’t even met Lewis Hamilton properly yet.

That changed by the next race weekend.

You’d been folded into Mercedes’ hospitality tent like you were their new long-lost kid, Lewis always calling you “champ” and giving you little tips in the paddock—everything from tire temps to how to stay calm when the media swarmed.

It became a thing. Everyone called you “Hamilton’s kid.”

You didn’t mind.

Oscar teased you, of course. “Getting adopted already? Show-off.”

You’d shrugged. “Jealous?”

“…maybe.”

📍Present Day – 2025 Season, Media Day, Silverstone

“So how’s it feel,” Oscar says smugly, still clutching the other end of the mic, “knowing that your dad has, like, 50 dogs and still hasn’t named one after you?”

You gape. “Okay—first of all? Rude. Second? He has four dogs, not 50. And third—he DID name one of his racing sim setups after me, so.”

Oscar scoffs. “Charles named an entire boat after me.”

“Did he really?”

“Yes.”

“Pics or it didn’t happen.”

“Ask Arthur, he helped paint it!”

Around you, the rest of the 2025 F1 grid starts trickling into the press bullpen.

You hear Kimi Antonelli mutter to Ollie Bearman, “Are they always like this?”

Ollie shrugs, sipping an energy drink. “I think it’s an Aussie thing. It’s either this or threatening each other with magpies.”

Lando Norris, leaning on the interview backdrop, watches you both with an amused expression. “This is why I never wanted kids.”

George Russell snorts. “They’re not your kids, mate.”

“They act like it. I can feel the secondhand embarrassment.”

🎙️Media Day Questions: Unhinged Edition

A journalist cautiously clears their throat.

“Um, for both of you—how did this ‘dad debate’ even start?”

Oscar answers before you can.

“They did,” he says, gesturing at you with faux betrayal. “They said Hamilton was a better F1 dad because he gives motivational speeches.”

You: “You said Charles taught you how to make espresso! How does that even help on track?!”

Oscar: “Caffeine helps everything!”

You both start arguing again—this time about whose “adoptive dad” gives better pre-race advice.

Lewis: “Visualize the win. Channel your energy. Remember why you race.”

Charles: “Don’t crash. Also, remember to eat.”

“I rest my case,” Oscar deadpans.

📹 CUT TO: Team Principals Watching From Afar

Fred Vasseur (Ferrari): “Why are my drivers always involved in the chaos?”

Toto Wolff (Mercedes): “They’re not fighting. They’re bonding.”

Christian Horner (Red Bull): “Are we sure they’re not dating?”

Andrea Stella (McLaren): “They’re literally just Australians.”

📷 Social Media Highlights

@F1MemesDaily: 📸 Screenshot of you and Oscar in mid-squabble, both holding the mic like it’s Excalibur. caption: When you and your best friend get adopted by two different GOATs and suddenly you’re enemies. 😭 #DadWars #F1Family

@PaddockGossip: Image of Charles and Lewis casually chatting while their “kids” bicker behind them. caption: Meanwhile the dads don’t have a clue their children are fighting for their honor. #CharlesTheCoolDad #LewisTheSupportiveDad

@OscarPiastriFans: “he’s smiling so much around Y/N 😭 the comfort level >>>”

🎮 Post-Interview Debrief: Simulator Lounge

You and Oscar are lying upside down on the bean bags in the McLaren sim room, exhausted from the attention.

“I think Kimi thought we were gonna physically fight,” you say.

Oscar chuckles. “Honestly, I almost wanted to. You’re impossible.”

“You love me.”

He tosses a pillow at you. “Unfortunately.”

There’s a beat of silence. Comfortable.

You: “Hey. Thanks for being cool with all this.”

Oscar raises a brow. “All what?”

You wave vaguely. “The whole media mess. The fake family stuff. People always assuming we’re, like… competing for attention.”

He turns his head toward you.

“Hey. You’re my best mate. I’m never competing with you.”

You grin. “Unless we’re arguing about our F1 dads.”

Oscar smirks. “Then it’s on.”

🥇 Bonus Scene: Actual Dads Weigh In

Later that day, you find yourself sitting between Charles and Lewis during a press dinner.

Charles: “So. I heard you and Oscar have been debating our parental merits.”

You blink. “It’s just jokes—”

Lewis interrupts with a warm laugh. “I heard I lost.”

Charles smirks. “Don’t worry, Lewis. I offered them a croissant. They switched sides halfway through.”

You groan. “Traitors, both of you.”

Lewis leans in. “But seriously, Y/N. I’m proud of you. Whether you claim me as your paddock dad or not.”

Charles nods. “Same for Oscar.”

And for a moment, the chaos of media day melts away.

You’re just a couple of kids who made it to F1.

Raised by legends.

And still figuring it all out—one ridiculous interview at a time.

🏁 END

[narcjsistx]

rin itoshi was born to wait, but especially for you

You were never the best in your crosscountry classes back in high school — your coach always complained about your slowness and lack of motivation. The way you’re running now, though, makes you certain that all you needed back then was a reason to do it — a reason to need to hurry

You don’t care that your clothes are soaked, that your hair you carefully washed this morning are now damp and ruined. You don’t even care about losing your job. You’re running with the awareness that you probably won’t even find him at home — already on a plane to Paris. That’s exactly why you’re running — because your only reason makes you hope he’s still in his apartment. You’re running because you know that if you don’t do it now, you’ll lose the chance of your life

You arrive at his apartment complex without even greeting the receptionist — the one who’s kept you company over the past few months while you waited for Rin to come back from the gym or his trips. You take the stairs without thinking, without even worrying about falling, just with a lot of anxiety. Your sister’s words are still running through your mind — so much so that you almost forgot she just found out she’s been cheated on by her almost-husband. As sorry as you are for her, you can’t let your first love slip away

“Why did it happen? What did I do wrong?”

“You did nothing. It’s him who… who couldn’t wait for you. Couldn’t understand that you didn’t want to rush things…”

“Then why is he waiting for you?”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Rin Itoshi”

Waiting isn’t the right word to describe what Rin has done over the past 18 years. What he did was give you your time, set his rhythm alongside yours, and breathe at your pace. He never rushed you to understand something he had always known — at least until two weeks ago. The night before he told you he had received an offer for intensive training at a center in Paris, training that would probably keep him away from home for a year. The next morning, at your workplace, he finally voiced what he had kept inside for years

“I’ve loved you for basically forever. I don’t want to pressure you, but I need an answer before I leave”

The news had made you pull away a little — the thought of your best friend being in love with you all this time made you a bit anxious. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t say anything, that maybe you’d call him once he was already in France. But after tonight, something shifted inside you. You knock frantically on his door, even though you know it’s the middle of the night and it’s raining like Japan hasn’t seen water in months. You’re not in the best condition, but you don’t care

The door opens, and you let out a breath of relief without even realizing it. The sight of a sleepy, slightly disoriented Rin feels like a breath of fresh air — and it’s as if a weight has been lifted off your chest. You see his eyes widen in surprise, his mouth parting slightly

“What?-“

“I’ve loved you for basically forever. But I’ve been so used to seeing you as a shoulder to cry on that admitting I also wanted to fall asleep there made me a bit of an asshole”

Rin Itoshi — the champion of the most expressionless, lukewarm reactions ever — actually looks genuinely surprised. You see his eyes widen as he shakes his head “What?” he says confused, and you give him an awkward smile “I know, Rin. I know. I don’t even know how to explain it to you. It’s all really new to me, but…” you say, looking down

You think about all the moments you’ve shared — about how he’s always adjusted himself just to live alongside your presence. You think about how many times you’ve hugged, confided in each other, loved each other from a distance, but in different ways. You think about all the time you took from his main passion — time he never once held against you. You think about how Rin waited for something you could never promise him with absolute certainty — and yet, he still chose to chase after it. He chose to run after you even when you didn’t know you were the reason — the very force that’s brought you here now. Rin has always seen you as a reason, not a forced goal

“I know what my answer to your question is, even if it took me some time. I… I feel the same way about you. I don’t want to keep waiting for someone who has spent 18 years silently for me” you say, trembling as you try to take his hands. When you look up, the boy’s face looks at you like only someone who has waited for years knows how to — with a new light, a new hope, a new kind of affection. Maybe even a new kind of love

“I know you have a long flight tomorrow morning and that you should be sleeping, so goodnight and see you-“ you start to say quickly, trying to brush off the strange feeling of embarrassment building in your stomach. Before you can even realize it, two arms wrap around you, holding you tight as if this time he’s not afraid you’ll make his wait eternal “You’ve always been stupid. Extremely stupid” he says, but his tone and his embrace betray his words

For the first time in two weeks of tension, your muscles finally relax. You let out a breath of relief, holding him close as you allow yourself to be wrapped in the calm that has, thankfully, settled between you. Rin hesitates for a moment, then presses a kiss to your hair before pulling you back into his arms

Even now, with the certainty that his waiting has been rewarded, he doesn’t want to push you into the sudden discomfort of rushing things — like kissing you

✶ beautiful dividers by @uzmacchiato !!

✶ 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

[enitnelavvalentine]

His girl

*Thunderbolts Bucky Barnes x Fem Reader

Summary: You came into his room one night hoping for relief and..i guess he came in you (i’m so funny.)

Warnings!: Clit play, Needing help with finishing, Implied sex, Cum and mentions of cum, Masterbation, …not..sure..what else to say..

Notes: This is in-fact my first fanfic so it might not be the best but i hope someone enjoys it.

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

You felt something stirring in your stomach, the need to touch yourself.

“It’s 12 in the morning, do not.” You told yourself, but unfortunately, it could not seem to go away. Trouble sleeping was not new and it was a real problem but tonight, things were a bit different with a slightly different path then staring up at the ceiling for an hour. Eventually you gave in with a sigh, closing your eyes and slowly running your hand down your body. Your fingers quickly reached your clit, breath hitching and body twitching. You were eager to get it done quickly. “Cum then go to bed, no seconds, just a quick quiet session.” You muttered under your breath. Two fingers gently circled your nub as you relaxed into your pillow. Never had you fingered yourself, found this more effective than something that seemed like it would take a good while.

After 20 minutes of trying to get where you so desperately needed to be, frustration and desire had risen. You sat up and thought of any other way you could make this disappear. Then, an idea raced into your head, Bucky.

You’d always see girls in and out of his room since everyone moved into the tower and in your head, what was one more? Friends or not, you needed it.

Footsteps approached his door before knuckles knocked softly against it. A small creak was heard when the door opened to reveal Bucky standing there and staring down at you with a mixture of curiosity and confusion. You then opened your mouth to say something until you remembered you had no absolute plan of what you wanted nor what to say. Bucky raised his brow while you were mentally panicking.

“Hey..there…��� You smiled awkwardly as the embarrassment and awkwardness seeped into the tone of your voice.

“Hey.” Bucky replied casually.

“My god, had he always been this sexy?” You thought while looking up at him, without thinking, your legs pressed tighter against each other. Lucky for you, he noticed and you could feel the tension shift.

“Bucky I need a favor.” You spoke up, completely unaware he had noticed your movement. You needed to be brave, get release, or you were going to explode and not in the way you had hoped.

“Hm?” Bucky replied, moving a little closer to you.

“Listen- I-I need you to help me cum.” You sputtered out and mentally cringed at how this ten word conversation was going. A tinge of blush creeped up your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Oh is that so sweet girl?” Bucky replied with a hint of amusement in his voice. His arm hooked around your waist within seconds and a quick gasp flew out of your mouth as you nodded.

“I’ve seen girls come around your room- what’s one more?” You mumbled softly, now facing his chest.

“You think i’m a player sweet girl?” Bucky leaned in and asked with genuine concern, the previous heat leaving the moment.

“Yeah, I do.” A small wave of disappointment left your mouth as you spoke.

“Listen,” Bucky replied fast before pulling you impossibly closer, one arm around your waist while his other arm had a soft caress to your cheek with his calloused fingertips. “I’ve had my eye on you the first time I saw you trip up stairs and look at me with pure embarrassment. All those girls? They came in my room because the PR said i needed to look nicer and hired people to do that. Inconveniently, they were all women. If we do this, I don’t want it to be a one time thing. Because I am so in love with you sweet girl.” Bucky whispered against your ear softly as he spoke.

You were completely shocked, you, out of all people, he wanted you. I mean yeah you were gorgeous but you were an absolute dork and everyone knew it. Yet you were absolutely down.

(will post next part soon sorry!!)