#perry sighs and joins them

[didi-doof]

Perry with stanessa? Or just one of these three people complaining about work? :> -@cartoon-cornplateur

They forced him to join their gossip-and-self-care night 💅

[reveryfics]

Something about a meet cute at the dog park with Clark Kent is beckoning me🤭. Clark takes Krypto who absolutely baldurs from dog to dog until stopping to catch a frisbee being thrown with perfect ease. Clark, after finally catching up to Krypto, grabs the frisbee and profusely apologizes to the owner, only to find an adorable male reader with their dog (maybe a weiner dog?)

I just REALLY NEED Clark in some light, fluffy shenanigans. Maybe in the end Clark is too shy to ask out male reader so male reader gives his phone number and asks him out on a future date.

Hope you feel better btw💛

Dog Park Meet Cute

Clark Kent x Male Reader

Summary: With Kara off partying on some alien planet, Clark was left with the responsibility of caring for Krypto, his cousin's dog. What better way to tackle it, he thought, than a trip to the dog park? Clark's optimism, however, was about to be tested.

A/N: Yesss weiner dogs are such good lil babies! I used to foster dogs all the time and fostered a brother duo, loved them to death. I love this request, makes me want my dog sooner (best believe the side blog will end up being just him once I get him)

TW: Fluff - Awkward Clark - Flirting

Words: 2.9k

The apartment, typically a sanctuary of quiet solitude for Clark Kent, had become a war zone. Blame fell squarely on the furry, white, and super-powered shoulders of Krypto. Kara, bless her alien heart, had jetted off to some intergalactic rave on Xylos, leaving her canine companion in Clark’s more-than-capable, but increasingly exasperated, hands. The Fortress of Solitude was no longer an option; Krypto, in a burst of boredom-fueled energy, had managed to redecorate the crystalline structures with slobber and what looked suspiciously like melted lead. Bringing him to the Daily Planet had been an unmitigated disaster, culminating in a near-catastrophic incident involving a priceless antique printing press and a chew toy that was once Perry White’s desk chair.

Clark sighed, running a hand through his perpetually mussed hair. There was only one option left, a desperate, almost laughable, last resort. He had to treat Krypto like a normal dog. And that meant the Metropolis dog park. The very thought made a muscle twitch in his jaw. Tiring out a creature who could outrun a speeding bullet and fetch satellites seemed a fool's errand, but what else was there?

The moment Krypto’s paws hit the lush green expanse of the Metropolis dog park, all of Clark’s anxieties seemed to momentarily dissipate. The super-dog, to Clark’s astonishment, wasn't soaring through the air or accidentally vaporizing fire hydrants with his heat vision. Instead, he was a blur of white fur, bouncing between every dog he could see. He chased after a gangly golden retriever, tackled a bewildered boxer, and then, with an almost comical grin, engaged in a full-on wrestling match with a surprisingly agile Great Dane. Krypto, for all his otherworldly origins, was playing like, well, a dog. A very energetic, very enthusiastic dog, but a dog nonetheless. A small, unfamiliar wave of relief washed over Clark as he found a vacant bench under the shade of a sprawling oak tree and settled down, content to observe the chaos.

His eyes, accustomed to processing information at incredible speeds, followed Krypto’s joyful romps. He watched as the larger dogs, a new wave of them having just arrived, joined the fray, and Krypto, reveling in the attention, engaged them all. Clark allowed himself a moment of genuine peace, the sounds of happy barks and playful growls a welcome change from the usual city hum.

He looked away for merely a second, his gaze drifting towards a particularly fluffy poodle being meticulously groomed by its owner. When his eyes flicked back to the play area, his heart dropped. In the distance, a small, determined dachshund was giving chase to a neon-green frisbee, its tiny legs a blur. But before the wiener dog could even hope to reach its prize, a streak of white lightning—Krypto—launched himself into the air. With a triumphant bark that echoed across the park, he snatched the frisbee mid-flight.

Clark shot to his feet, a strangled yell tearing from his throat. "Krypto! Drop it! That's not yours!" He was already in a dead sprint, weaving through bewildered pet owners and their suddenly confused canines, his voice rising in an urgent plea. "Krypto, no! Krypto, put it down!"

Clark skidded to an abrupt halt, nearly tripping over his own feet as Krypto, with a surprising display of canine etiquette, rounded back to the bewildered dachshund. The super-dog gently deposited the neon-green frisbee right at the smaller dog's paws before looking up expectantly at you, the frisbee's owner. You, a guy no older than Clark himself, stood there, a wide, amused grin plastered across your face, already bending down to scratch Krypto behind the ears.

"Oh my god, I am so, so sorry!" Clark gasped, jogging the rest of the way over, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He ran a hand through his hair again, a nervous habit. "He just... he gets a little overexcited. He's usually so well-behaved, I promise. I don't know what got into him today. He's not usually a frisbee thief, honestly."

You merely chuckled, straightening up. Your smile was easy, crinkling the corners of your eyes as you met his gaze. In one hand, you now held the frisbee, and with the other, you casually crossed your arms over your chest. You shook your head, a soft laugh escaping your lips. "Hey, it's really not a big deal. Look at him, he's just playing. There's absolutely no need to apologize."

Clark's shoulders seemed to deflate, a silent wave of relief washing over him. "Still," he insisted, though a small, sheepish smile was starting to form on his face. "He really shouldn't have done that. He's been a little... a lot... to handle lately. My cousin's out of town and left him with me, and he's not exactly adjusting well." He gestured vaguely at Krypto, who was now nudging your hand with his head, clearly enjoying the attention. "He's usually not so destructive, but he's been quite the handful."

You just chuckled again, reaching out to gently scratch Krypto behind his ears, making the super-dog lean into your touch with a contented rumble that vibrated through the air. "Well, he seems pretty happy now," you observed, glancing down at the enthusiastic Krypto, then back up at Clark. "And frankly, it was pretty impressive. I've never seen a dog jump that high for a frisbee before."

A faint blush touched Clark's cheeks. "He's got... a lot of energy," he mumbled, trying to downplay Krypto's more extraordinary abilities. He cleared his throat. "Anyway, I'm Clark, by the way." He extended a hand towards you. "And this is Krypto."

You shifted the frisbee to your other hand and took his outstretched hand. Your grip was firm, and your smile widened. "Nice to meet you, Clark. And it's a pleasure to meet the most enthusiastic frisbee catcher in Metropolis." You winked, and Krypto, as if understanding, gave an excited bark, wagging his tail with enough force to kick up a small puff of dust from the ground.

As if on cue, Krypto and your dog, a surprisingly agile for a dachshund, had already bounded off together, a blur of fur and playful barks. They wove through the larger dogs, nipping at heels and darting under bellies, looking for all the world like a dynamic duo whose nine-to-five job was to hilariously terrorize the entire dog park.

You gestured with the frisbee towards the shaded bench Clark had just vacated. "Want to sit for a bit while they wear themselves out?" you offered, a pleasant smile still gracing your features.

Clark nodded, grateful for the reprieve. "I'd like that, thanks." He followed you back to the bench, settling down beside you, his gaze immediately drawn to Krypto and your dog, who were now engaged in a spirited game of chase with a bewildered German Shepherd. He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling a little awkward in the comfortable silence. "So, uh... what's your dog's name?"

You looked down at the frisbee in your hand, your brow furrowing slightly. Clark watched as your nose scrunched up, your lips almost forming a pout before you spoke. "He's not exactly my dog, actually," you began, fidgeting with the edge of the frisbee. "He's my sister's. But he may as well be mine, considering how often she 'forgets' about him." You let out a small, huffing laugh that held a hint of exasperation. "His name is Lex." You paused, a visible cringe flitting across your face. "Only because she's dating the rich bastard, and he was a 'gift' from him. Which, of course, means he's now effectively my gift."

Clark could tell from the way you articulated the name, the subtle tightening around your eyes, that you absolutely despised it. And honestly, he couldn't blame you for that. "Lex, huh," he mused, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. "Well, he certainly seems to have a good spirit, despite the name."

You offered a weak, wry smile. "Yeah, he does. He's a good dog, just... stuck with a rotten namesake." You sighed, then shrugged, the frisbee still clutched in your hand. "Anyway, enough about my sister's questionable taste in boyfriends and dog names. So, Krypto, huh? That's a pretty unique name for a dog too, but it suits him." You gestured to the white blur that was Krypto, currently doing a graceful aerial flip over a very confused poodle. "He's got some serious hops."

Clark chuckled, watching Krypto land perfectly on all four paws. "He certainly does," he agreed, a genuine warmth entering his gaze as he watched his cousin's dog. "And yeah, Krypto... it's a family thing, I guess. My cousin Kara named him." He glanced at you, a comfortable silence settling between you two for a moment, punctuated only by the distant barks of playing dogs. "So, you come here often?”

You could practically feel the awkwardness radiating off Clark, a palpable hum of polite discomfort. Honestly, you found it adorable. This mountain of a man, with shoulders that looked like they belonged in a football uniform and a jawline that could cut glass, was seemingly nervous while talking to you of all people. It was disarmingly charming.

You leaned back against the bench, a playful glint in your eye. "Yeah, this is pretty much my go-to spot," you admitted, watching Krypto and Lex now enthusiastically digging a surprisingly deep hole near the fence line. "Especially when I'm looking for adorably nerdy guys who get flustered by a little dog park chaos."

Clark turned his head, his eyes wide and earnest, looking at you like your flirting had gone completely over his head. Which, you realized with a suppressed chuckle, it most certainly had. There was no way a cute guy like you, with that easy smile and charming wit, was actually flirting with Clark Kent. His brain, bless its earnest heart, probably just processed it as a friendly observation.

A slow, dawning realization flickered in Clark's eyes, then vanished behind a mask of polite confusion. He blinked once, then twice, before offering a slightly strained laugh. "Oh, uh, well, I guess that's me then," he mumbled, a faint blush creeping up his neck. He quickly changed the subject, gesturing towards the two dogs who were now engaged in a tug-of-war with a rogue squeaky toy. "They really seem to be getting along, don't they?"

You just smiled, watching the utterly oblivious man beside you. "They do," you agreed, letting the unspoken flirtation hang playfully in the air for a moment longer before letting it dissipate. "Lex doesn't usually take to other dogs so quickly. He's a bit of a diva, thanks to his actual owner." You nudged Clark gently with your elbow. "Looks like Krypto's managed to charm even him."

The easy rhythm of conversation settled between you and Clark. Initially, it revolved around the antics of Krypto and Lex, their shared guardianship forging an unexpected bond. You commiserated over the challenges of incredibly energetic pets and shared stories of their most hilarious and destructive escapades. Clark, surprisingly, had a dry wit when he wasn't flustered, painting vivid pictures of Krypto's latest domestic disasters at the Fortress of Solitude.

"So, what exactly is his deal with chew toys?" you asked, watching Krypto enthusiastically rip apart a discarded tennis ball. "Lex is obsessed with squeaky ones, but Krypto seems to prefer... well, anything he can get his jaws around."

Clark winced. "You don't want to know. Let's just say my cousin's priceless antique vase collection is no more. And a few structural supports in my apartment building might need some reinforcement." He then quickly changed the subject, steering it towards your life outside of dog-sitting. "What about you? What do you do when you're not rescuing poor little dachshunds from well Krypto?"

You chuckled, taking the bait. "I'm a freelance graphic designer," you explained, leaning back against the bench, enjoying the sunlight filtering through the leaves. "It's a lot of staring at screens, so getting out here with Lex is a must. Keeps me from turning into a total hermit." You paused, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Though, I suppose I wouldn't mind being a hermit if the right company was involved." You glanced at Clark, who was now intently watching Lex attempt to scale a small hill of dirt. He just nodded thoughtfully, clearly processing the information about your job, entirely missing the implication.

You sighed internally, but couldn't help but smile. His earnest obliviousness was genuinely endearing. You pivoted again. "And you? From the way you talk about your cousin, I'm guessing you're not a professional dog-sitter, as charming as you are at it."

Clark laughed, a surprisingly deep, warm sound. "No, definitely not. I, uh... I'm a reporter at the Daily Planet."

"A reporter, huh?" You raised an eyebrow. "So, you're the one asking all the tough questions, digging up the truth?" You leaned in slightly, your voice dropping conspiratorially. "Do you ever get those big, world-changing scoops? The kind that make headlines?"

He shifted uncomfortably, a familiar guardedness flickering in his eyes before he settled on a modest reply. "Sometimes. Mostly it's city council meetings and local human interest pieces, though. Not quite as glamorous as it sounds." He paused, then, as if realizing he'd said too much about himself, asked, "So, freelance graphic design. That sounds like it gives you a lot of freedom. Do you travel much for work?"

The conversation continued to meander, touching on everything from your favorite coffee shops to the strange weather patterns Metropolis had been experiencing lately. Every now and then, you'd drop another flirtatious comment, a playful remark about his height, his kindness, or how surprisingly good he looked covered in dog hair. And each time, Clark would either miss it completely, interpret it as a general compliment, or blush slightly and quickly change the subject back to the dogs or some innocuous topic. He was charmingly, frustratingly, adorably oblivious to the fact that you were, in fact, absolutely interested.

Much later, as the sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the dog park, both Krypto and Lex had finally found their way back to you and Clark. They lay curled at your feet, panting softly, the earlier boundless energy replaced by a contented weariness. Krypto, to Clark's utter astonishment, was actually tired. His usually bright eyes were heavy-lidded, and a soft snore rumbled from his throat. Who knew all it took was a persistent dachshund to achieve what even the most intense agility course couldn't?

"Well, it's getting pretty late," you said, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you stretched, "I should probably get Lex home before he turns into a pumpkin." You glanced down at the sleeping dog, a fond smile playing on your lips.

Clark nodded, pushing himself up from the bench, feeling a pleasant ache in his muscles from the prolonged sitting. "Yeah, I should probably take Krypto home too. He actually looks like he'll sleep through the night for once." He eyed Krypto, still surprised by the sight of the truly exhausted super-dog. He opened his mouth, a question forming on his tongue – something about whether he'd see you here again – but you had already beaten him to it.

You bent down, gently scooping up the surprisingly heavy Lex, who grumbled softly but didn't wake. You deftly clipped his leash to his collar, then straightened up, turning to face Clark. The setting sun cast a golden glow around your silhouette, making your eyes sparkle.

"Hey, Clark," you began, your voice casual but with an underlying hint of something more, "Would you maybe like to meet up for coffee sometime? You know, without the canine overlords around?"

Clark adjusted his glasses, a slow, bewildered smile spreading across his face. "Are you," he began, his voice a low rumble, "are you asking me on a date? Or is that going over my head too?"

You chuckled, a warm, melodic sound that carried on the gentle evening breeze. Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your phone and held it out to him. "Oh, you understand the date part, but not when I'm practically screaming that you're my type?" You shook your head playfully, your smile unwavering. "You, Clark Kent, are a confounding man."

A genuine, easy smile finally broke across Clark's face as he took your phone. He quickly navigated to your contacts, his fingers, despite their strength, surprisingly nimble as he typed in his number. "I, uh, I'm not exactly used to it," he admitted, a slight flush dusting his cheeks. He handed your phone back, meeting your gaze. "But I really look forward to seeing you for coffee."

You grinned, a genuine delight in your eyes. "Me too, Clark." You gave a small wave as you turned, Lex still slumbering peacefully in your arms, and started walking out of the park, the twilight deepening around you.

Clark watched you go for a moment, then turned to Krypto, who had, at some point, managed to rouse himself and was now sitting patiently by his side, tail thumping a soft rhythm against the grass. Clark dropped to one knee, ruffling the super-dog's fur.

"Can you believe it, boy?" Clark whispered, a wide, goofy grin splitting his face. "Jimmy and Lois are never going to believe I just got a date at the dog park." Krypto responded with an enthusiastic lick to Clark's chin, as if to say, "Anything's possible, Clark. Anything's possible."

[blueberrypancakesworld]

The Newspaper Hero

Jimmy Olsen x fem!reader (hero)

warning : fluff, kissing, cuddling, tiny hurt/comfort, mention of injuries, no use of Y/n

Summary : In Metropolis it was the source of young reporter Jimmy Olsen, one of the superheroes who repeatedly saved the city and its inhabitants. His source was much closer to him than many people could have guessed, and after a long day, the reporter finally reunited with his love.

info : The second one-shot for Jimmy. I like the idea that he has several contacts among heroes. Thank you very much for the support for my first fic for him, and I hope you enjoy it :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day usually began in Metropolis with alarm clocks ringing, people eating breakfast, and chatting before heading out onto the streets to catch buses, trains, and subways.

They were either on their way to the office, to shops, markets, factories, or to all the other places where they worked.

People took the day as it came, enjoyed the sunshine and hoped for a few good hours. It was no different for the red-haired reporter whose shrill alarm clock woke him from his sleep.

A sigh escaped his lips as he felt the kiss on his temple, “Morning, my hero” he heard his nickname and turned to his partner.

Of course, she was up early again and had already put on her plain clothes for her way to headquarters.

His bright eyes glanced over her clothes; he liked her casual look just as much as her suit.

She was two sides of the same coin, but for Jimmy, both sides were perfect, “Morning, sunshine” he replied and gave her a gentle kiss as he got out of bed to start his morning as well.

Unlike her, he had to get to the Daily Planet earlier than usual for some meeting Perry wanted to discuss, but he couldn't quite remember what it was about.

Running her fingers through his tousled hair, she smiled as she watched him for a moment before returning to the living room with its adjoining kitchen.

Breakfast was already laid out, and she was drinking her orange juice and eating her bread when Jimmy joined her and the two sat down at the small table.

“Any plans? Maybe an interview with sunshine? The glorious new heroine?” she asked, hearing him chuckle as they had this conversation over and over again.

Jimmy's colleague Clark Kent seemed to have just as good sources, as he always had interviews with Superman, and Jimmy secretly celebrated that his girlfriend also gave him something so cool.

After taking a bite of his bagel, he replied, “A phone call or exclusive insights behind the Justice Gang. This Sunshine is really sunny” he winked and she rolled her eyes at his ridiculous comparison before getting up from the table to get ready.

It was just another morning between the reporter and a superheroine as he said goodbye, waved to her, and couldn't wait to see her again.

Her journey to work was hardly any different from the others. First, she walked to the subway, rode for a short while, then took the bus before walking the last few minutes to the large building.

Inside were her Justice Gang colleagues and, in a way, friends, even if none of the three would admit it.

Nevertheless, the time they spent together, the few training sessions they had together, and the missions they went on welded them together.

“Morning, everyone!” she called into the large hall and got only a few murmurs in response when she saw the three of them.

Kendra was sitting on a chair leafing through a magazine and handed her one too, a little ritual they had where they let each other read the gossip.

It was especially interesting when Michael checked the information with his technical knowledge and gadgets so they knew if it was correct.

The whole thing was rounded off by Guy, who made his cynical, bored comments but was just as interested in the gossip as the others.

Maybe it was all a bit ‘little’, but she knew that such trivial things would help the team; it was always better than arguing, which they were all too good at.

Hours passed as they stood in the hall, checking the news here and there or scanning for anomalies they had to deal with...until the moment when the alarm went off in the afternoon near the Daily Planet.

The three heroes came over to Michael and saw the image of a large snake-like monster on the screen. “Interdimensional snake monster, we should go” he said before the three of them left their normal clothes behind and took to the air to get to the large newspaper building.

Above all, however, they were worried about Jimmy.

The monster was only a few blocks away from the Daily Planet, and it was only a matter of minutes before it could reach him. “We have to keep it away from the Daily Planet!” she shouted, directing more plasma energy around her to be the first on the scene.

The snake monster had already damaged several houses and streets with its tail and was about to bring down a building with one bite.

With her hand, she formed the plasma into a beam and hit the creature, missing its bite.

The painful hiss told her that it was working.

She heard the wind and chaos as Green Lantern instructed the people to stay away from the block, the screams of Hawkgirl as she struck the snake's tail with her morning star, and Terrific searching for a weak spot.

At least in moments like these, they were able to work well together, “I'll tell the Daily Planet to evacuate as a precaution!” she shouted to the others, who held off the monster while she flew toward the building.

Flying past several houses and trees, she was still worried, knowing that she had to protect not only Jimmy but everyone else as well.

No one could be hurt.

Before coming to a stop in front of the window, she shouted, “As long as everyone is still okay, please go to another safe area!” and to her relief, she saw Jimmy, Lois, and Clark immediately spring into action and start getting everyone out of the building.

She kept her eyes on the civilians a little too long and heard the whoosh of air too late.

Still seeing the scales coming toward her, she was hit with full force, falling unchecked and landing on the street with a crash.

Her head was ringing as she struggled to get up from the cracked asphalt and gather her energy. “I've had enough of this snake!” she shouted to the others, who paused for a moment to see if she was okay, a rage shared by the other three as the fight had been going on for far too long.

Until Mr. Terrific finally said, “The teeth! Break its teeth and then a well-aimed shot will knock it unconscious!” he screamed, and all four set about finally stuffing the beast's mouth.

Hawkgirl struck, Terrific placed bombs on its body, and Lantern held the snake tight before blowing it up with a concentrated plasma blast.

With a final hiss, the snake finally gave way and fell to the ground, or at least it threatened to, until Green Lantern held the beast with a pair of pliers—at least they had all learned something from last time.

They had won, the Justice Gang had triumphed, there were hardly any injuries, the damage could be repaired.

All without Superman, who hadn't shown up this time, but they all knew he would have come if things had gotten dicey.

It wasn't, and the cheers, the photos, and knowing that the residents were safe were thanks enough until the four of them withdrew and ended the day at the base.

She had planned to take the bus and subway back in the evening, but in her exhausted state, she simply flew to their shared apartment, taking care not to shine too brightly so as not to cause a commotion.

She didn't want him to see the colorful bruises on her back when she opened the door, and a second later, two arms wrapped around her.

“You scared me so much!” he cried, and Jimmy's hand immediately went to her cheek to see if she was hurt, a gesture he only made when he was almost overcome with worry.

Carefully placing her hands on his, she gave him a quick kiss, which he returned, “I came to you because I was afraid you might get hurt once the snake was at the Daily Planet” she replied.

Jimmy slowly recovered from his worry and helped her out of her jacket before they both went into the living room.

It was Jimmy's fear that met her exhaustion, “The snake is one thing, but you, sweetheart...what would I do without you, my strong heroine?” he murmured and pulled her into an embrace, something that calmed her and helped him feel better.

Jimmy knew that he couldn't do anything in fights like this, and giving her something like this gave him strength.

A strength that Jimmy used and reached for the ointment under the small drawer of the coffee table.

Her appreciative “Aww, thanks Jimmy” escaped her lips, which he acknowledged with a proud smile as she lay down on her stomach and he carefully lifted her shirt slightly to tend to her injury.

Olsen's silence told her that it must look like a colorful sea of bruises. “Don't worry, it'll be fine” he said encouragingly, squeezing her hand gently before applying the cool ointment to the bruises.

It was a little cold, but it felt pleasant as soon as the ointment began to take effect.

Jimmy did his best and told her about his day, the coffee that once again tasted too bitter, the stories that were crazy and yet real.

It was these little things that let her know that he loved his job, that he knew it calmed her and that his care touched her.

After a few moments, she straightened her shirt, sat back down, and let Jimmy hug her again as they turned on the TV and just enjoyed each other's company.

“So, no interview?” he asked, and she noticed his smile, which she returned with another kiss as they both let themselves be distracted by the TV and fell asleep in each other's arms.

Knowing that their love was safe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@ma-ie , @mazingmarissa23 , @vanessalovesonedirection , @fandoms-are-my-h0me , @captainshischier , @iheavenidea , @beautifulmagicbelieverblog

[supercap2319]

The Daily Planet Newsroom – Midday. Perry White storms out of his office, scanning the bullpen. "Where in the Sam Hill are Kent and Lang?! I needed that article on my desk ten minutes ago!" He said, voice gruffly.

Just then, Clark Kent and Y/N Lang walk in from the far hallway, both looking slightly ruffled, hair messy, collars crooked, papers askew out of order. Perry eyes them suspiciously. "Well, well, look who finally decided to join the land of the living. You two look like you went twelve rounds with a tornado. Where’ve you been? Getting manicures?"

Clark adjusted his glasses awkwardly. "Uh, we were just—um—doing some... very thorough research for the story, Chief."

"Yeah! Deep investigative work. Real gritty stuff for another front page story for the Planet, boss." Y/N adds to Clark's statement.

Lois Lane, watching from her desk with a smirk, raises an eyebrow and leans back in her chair. She didn't believe those country bumpkins for a second. It was obvious that they were hooking up in the most awkward places around the office. In Lois's honest opinion, they should try the men's room next time. That's where she had traded a few passionate kisses with Paul from prints last week. She walked over towards them, her heels clacking against the polished floor.

"Uh-huh. “Deep research,” huh? What’d you two do, get locked in the janitor’s closet?"

Clark and Y/N exchange wide-eyed glances. Perry stares at them, unamused. "If I find out you two were hiding out while Metropolis keeps spinning, I’ll assign you to obituaries for a month. Now get me that story now!" Perry stomps off. Lois chuckles and returns to her keyboard. Y/N tugs at his tie, and Clark sighs, already pulling papers from his folder.

"Next time, we don’t take the shortcut past maintenance." Clark whispered.

"Next time, we fly. Or the rooftop." Y/N said.

[ash5monster01]

Hellouuuu can i request a maybe something a Neil x fem! reader, like they are already dating and let’s say Welton is co-ed and reader looooves Neil in his full uniform (blazer, V-cut sweater HIS GLASSES) and she is like waiting until it’s the end of the day so she can spend time with him and they have like a good makeout session 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ love yaaaaa

Addicted

Pairing: Neil Perry x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, no use of y/n, heavy attraction, some teasing, quick makeout, nothing too much they're just cute

Summary: Somedays it's pure torture being around your boyfriend when he looks so good all day, so you’re quick to get him all to yourself as soon as you can.

word count: 1.2k

Masterlist

Classes had been dreadful all day. It wasn't just from the boring lessons or mountains of homework you had received, but it was the gorgeous brunette boy in all of your classes. There was just something about him today in his uniformed blazer and sweater, the glasses perched on his nose while he worked on his assignments. It had to be some form of torture to have to be near him all day while he looked like that and you couldn't do anything about it. Having a cute boyfriend in a co-ed school, one slip up away from removing girls, had to be one of the worst fates and yet one of the most thrilling.

Of course your luck of having anytime alone with him today also became slim. His friends, boys you loved, seemed to have some sort of attachment issues. You hadn’t walked a hall alone or studied without at least one of them. So when Charlie and Meeks join the two of you in the library that afternoon, your head is buzzing with annoyance, and any chance of finishing your homework is gone. Letting out another heavy sigh you set your pencil down and look at the boy beside you. 

“Neil? Would you mind helping me find a book quickly?” you ask sweetly, trying to save face in front of his friends but of course Charlie still smirks, insinuating there was no book involved. Little did he know there wasn’t but you were also used to ignoring your boyfriend's eccentric best friend. 

“Sure hun,” he smiles at you and you both lift from your seats and disappear into the stacks and out of sight of your friends. Neil follows innocently behind you, not even questioning how you weave through the rows, disappearing into a dark corner of the library that no one ever visits. It’s only when he spots the geographic section does he realize you were not looking for any old book. You hated Geography and also weren’t even taking it. 

“You sure it was a book you needed help with?” he asks, chuckling softly as he pulls the glasses from his nose and tucks them in his pocket. He had left his blazer at the table but still looked just as gorgeous in the uniform sweater in front of you. 

“Not exactly, I just wanted some alone time. Even if it was just for a minute,” you reason, gliding towards him slowly. Neil smiles at you before beckoning you closer, your uniform skirt swishing around your legs. Slowly his arms snaked around your waist and you did the same to his neck, enjoying his embrace and the way he invaded your senses. 

“Someone must miss me,” he grins at you, forehead moving to rest against your own and you relax into his arms. 

“Yes, sometimes even when we’re together I feel so far apart. This damn school a wedge when we could be like regular teenagers going for a drive and sneaking off too parties,” you had lived that lifestyle once, before Welton had become co-ed and allowed female admittance Your parents didn't waste a second pulling you from the public school you had attended your whole life and dropping you off here. The change had made your head spin but amongst all the chaos, at least you had found him. 

“I know, but we make it work and it won’t be much longer until we’re free from this place,” he reminds you and you smile at him, not only a handsome but a kind boyfriend. You had been so lucky already, even if this place felt like a prison sometimes. 

“Yeah, and it doesn’t help when someone looks so damn good all day,” you tell him, chin tipping closer to him. You’re desperate to kiss him, feel his body against your own, and be reminded that he is all yours. The cutest and nicest guy in school, all to yourself. 

“Oh yeah, you think so?” he asks in a teasing manner and you roll your eyes before pulling his lips against your own. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss back, a hand cradling your head as he draws you close. He tasted like mint and smelled like the pine trees outside. He was addictive in a way that could never let you get your fix. 

You don’t let him pull away, instead pushing him against the bookshelf and kissing him deeper. You had been anticipating this all day, desperate to feel and taste him when he looked this damn good. No other boy in this entire school could quite pull off the uniform like he did. It was almost ironic how much he fit the role here considering how badly the both of you wanted to escape. You at least enjoyed it while you could, him especially considering you didn’t have much longer until you had to return to studying. 

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he mutters against your lips, drawing you in with a breath as both his hands reach to tangle in your hair. You can practically hear a teasing remark from Charlie already but you’d risk the frizzy hair if Neil kept kissing you like this. 

“I’d say that was the other way around,” you told him as his lips started along your jaw and he chuckled before sealing a kiss to your neck. A perfect moment meant just for the two of you and you would lock it up in your heart and cherish it forever. It didn’t matter that reality would slowly seep in and that another student or teacher could discover either of you at any moment. Right now the only thing that mattered was the two of you. 

“So what I’m hearing is I should wear my full uniform more often,” Neil says as he pulls away, tucking some of your hair over your shoulder. You grin despite the way you roll your eyes at him. 

“Maybe, you never know what could happen,” you tease as you blindly grab a book off the shelf behind him. He matches your smile as you nod your head back to the table where your friends wait. He follows you, love sick and a little desperate to kiss you some more. When you return both boys look at you with suspicious expressions. 

“The rise and fall of the Roman Empire?” Meeks questions and you finally look at the book in your hands, a heavy blush covering your cheeks as you give them all a sheepish look. 

“It’s for personal use,” you offer a lame excuse as you settle into your previously abandoned seat and Charlie snorts. 

“More like Neil is,” Charlie mutters and you shoot him a glare while all the boys snicker. Neil just gives you a reassuring smile before tugging your chair closer to him.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just jealous,” he tells you, kissing you swiftly before any teachers notice and it makes you smile that he can still love you openly, even in front of his friends. A little less embarrassed you finally turn back to Charlie with a smirk. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll find someone someday, maybe.”

[shamefilledsnzblog]

Exploration

So, uh, this is the horniest thing I've ever written. Actually, think it's the only sex scene I've ever written. NSFW!

The Underdark expedition have found some hot springs, a perfect place to relax after a day of exploration. Serafina waits for Perry there and, convincing him of her affections at last, receives some rather intimate attention from him...

Of all the discoveries the party had made so far, the hot springs were the one Serafina had come to appreciate most. The great vistas Perry had shown her, lit with an ethereal glow of bio-luminescence, alive with a haze of spores and various creatures she could never have imagined, were of course magnificent. The ruins of ancient temples and towers and fortresses were breathtaking and inspired her imagination. The myconid colony, populated with mushroom people, some of them as tall as trees, had filled her with wonder. But at the end of a long day of exploring, being able to sink into hot water and let it soothe away the day’s aches and irritations was nothing short of heavenly.

Serafina lounged on the soft moss at the edge of one of the larger pools, her feet dangling in the water. She wore only her trousers, rolled up to the knee, and a loose blouse, unbuttoned far more than was proper. The rest of her clothes and belongings were discarded in a pile beneath one of the enormous glowing mushrooms that shaded the area. Serafina would eventually shed her remaining clothes and add them to the pile, but for now, she simply waited, tail flicking lazily, anticipating company.

The imminent arrival of her expected company was announced before long, and her tail began to flick faster as she heard his approach.

“HhHIIEssshhHYIEWW!”

Serafina smiled, laying back more and looking up at the mingled steam and spores swirling through the air, lit by the soft blue glow of the surrounding mushrooms. Those spores would be tormenting Perry by now, invading his over-sensitive nose, setting it twitching, scrunching, sniffling…

“HhhSHIEW! H-shhIIIEW! HhhiieeeSHYIEW!”

Poor man, he always sounded so weary by this time of night. After a day of sneezing, trying desperately to rid himself of the irritants he continuously breathed in, his sneezes always took on an exhausted quality. Still as desperate as ever, but they sounded as if they were being wrenched from him, somehow. No doubt he was coming here in the hopes that the steam might soothe him. Serafina could see his face in her mind’s eye. Lips parted, damp-lashed eyes beginning to close, red nostrils flaring wider, and wider, until…

“AhhhSHYIEW!”

With that last outburst, Perry emerged from the path leading to the spring. He failed to notice Serafina at first, too busy wearily blowing his nose. He sighed and dabbed at his streaming eyes with his handkerchief, before tucking it back into his pocket. Giving an irritated sniffle and scrunching his nose, he looked up and saw Serafina at last, and stepped back with a soft a cry of alarm.

“Miss DeVille!”

“Bless you. Joining me for a soak?”

Already somewhat flushed from his sneezing fit, Perry turned even pinker, his eyes widening as he took in Serafina lounging casually on the soft moss, her hair down, her blouse half open. She tilted her head, flicking her tail as if in invitation.

“I… Apologies, I didn’t realize you were already… Erm… I’ll go, please enjoy your bath…”

Struggling to keep his eyes averted, Perry hastily turned to leave, bumping his head on the cap of a giant mushroom in his hurry to flee. The movement shook loose a puff of spores, and Perry, already flustered, struggled to get his handkerchief out in time.

“HSHYIEWW! SHIEWW! HASHYIEWW!”

Tail flicking faster, Serafina got to her feet and padded forward. Perry, utterly helpless and near bent double with sneezing, could do nothing as she rested a hand on his back.

“Poor thing, that nose of yours is wearing you out. Come and sit, and breathe the steam. I’m sure that will help.”

“Plea-eeESHIEW! SHIEW!... No need… HhhSHYIEW!”

“There’s every need. Listen to you, you can barely speak. Come, sit.”

With an arm around Perry’s shoulders, Serafina guided him to the side of the pool, helping him clumsily sit down. She rubbed his back as he sneezed again and again, growing increasingly breathless, until at long last the fit trailed off with a weak, exhausted “Hhhshew!”.

“Bless you again. That’s it, blow your nose. Now, deep breaths. Try to take in some of the steam.”

Perry did as he was told, blowing his nose delicately, as if afraid of setting it off once more. Putting away his handkerchief at last, he took in a cautious, snuffly breath, and gave a sigh of relief when it didn’t immediately escape as another sneeze.

“Apologies, Miss DeVille. The spores, I couldn’t help but breathe them in, and…”

“Peregrine, how many times? No apologies! And how many times must I say, it’s just Serafina? You can at least call me that here, can’t you? As far from polite society as we can possibly be?”

She kept her hand on his back, rubbing in slow, soothing strokes, and felt the tight muscles loosen a little. Perry, cheeks still flushed, avoided her eyes. He seemed to be trying to avoid looking at her entirely, though with her so close, she had noted his eyes briefly darting to her barely-covered chest. Adorable, the shade of pink he turned at the sight.

“I… I should leave you to your bathing.”

“Perhaps you should, but do you want to?”

Perry fell silent, but for the occasional sniffle, seemingly lost for words. His hair had come loose from its ribbon as he sneezed, and Serafina reached out, delicately tucking a strand back behind his ear. At the touch, he turned to face her at last. He met her eyes, as if looking for some sign that this was a trick, or just her usual playful teasing.

“Were you waiting for me?”

“I was. Ever since we found this place, you’ve been coming here around this time, to wash away the spores. I though tonight I might help you.”

“With… With bathing?”

“With bathing. Relaxing. Look at you. You’re awfully tense. Practically trembling, poor thing.”

She brushed a little more hair from his face, and this time, let her hand linger. Sure enough, Perry’s hand trembled a little as he raised it, laying it over hers. His eyes remained on hers, wide and nervous. And, as her fingers gently brushed his cheek, dilating noticeably as his breath caught.

“I shouldn’t… This is… Are you sure you..?”

Serafina smiled fondly, cupping his cheek with her hand, feeling her heart warm as he leaned into her touch, seemingly out of sheer instinct.

“Peregrine, when you left for the Underdark for that first expedition, I wept, wishing I’d kissed you goodbye, propriety be damned. I’ve sat with you as you studied. I’ve danced with you. I’ve played you music. I’ve nursed you when you were ill. And as close to you as I get, I always find myself wanting to be closer. So yes, Peregrine. I am sure.”

Perry remained silent, letting her words sink in, his hand still over hers. Seeming to find no trace of teasing, he allowed his eyes to wander a little at last. His gaze fell to take in her body, so much more of it on display than usual. He swallowed hard, meeting her eyes once more.

“I… I’m a little lost for words.”

“Well, shall I provide you with a script? If I’ve read you wrong, then simply say ‘Miss DeVille, I’m flattered, but I would like to bathe alone.’ Or, if you’d like things to go a little further, ask ‘May I kiss you, Serafina?’, and I’ll give you your answer.”

Perry swallowed again, closing his eyes and taking a breath.

“May I kiss you, Serafina?”

Her smile widening, Serafina leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“You may. Amongst other things.”

Perry opened his eyes, blinked, and broke into a smile, letting out a breathy, rather giggly laugh.

“I never thought I’d have the chance…”

He leaned in and kissed her, one hand stroking back her hair. Serafina let out a hum of pleasure, pulling him forward into her embrace. Stroking one hand up his chest, she found the knot of his cravat and began to tug it loose. Perry’s hand moved from her hair and slid down her back, coming to rest on her waist. He broke off the kiss, breathing heavily, and after giving Serafina a tentative look, kissed her neck.

“Is this…”

“Yes. Please.”

Serafina pulled his cravat loose and cast it aside, setting to work on unbuttoning his waistcoat. Her breathing quickened as Perry kissed her neck again. And again, lower. His own breath began to quicken, growing unsteady as he reached her collarbone. He might have explored lower, except…

“HISHIEW!”

Serafina couldn’t hold back a moan as the mist settled on her neck and shoulder. Warmth pooling in her belly, she squirmed imperceptibly as Perry pulled back, fumbling for his handkerchief, sneezes and apologies muffled into its folds.

“Damned allergies… HiieeSHYIEW! HasHIEW! I’m so sorry, I… SHHIEW! Snf!... That was awful, I can’t apologize en-ehhhESHEW!... enough…”

Serafina seized his wrist and, making him lower the handkerchief, kissed him, softly at first, then with increasing urgency. She felt his nose, warm from a day of allergic torment, twitch against her cheek. When Perry, his nose now too stuffed for easy breathing, paused to catch his breath, Serafina resumed her work on his buttons.

“Are you sure you… HSHYIEEW!... I’m so terribly sorry, that’s likely to keep happening. Perhaps we ought to wait until…”

Serafina pulled him into another kiss, smiling at his somewhat bewildered expression.

“Peregrine, if we wait for a time when you don’t have to sneeze, I’m afraid we’ll be going to our graves unsatisfied. If I were revolted by it, we wouldn’t be here. Now, would you kindly resume your attentions?”

With his nose momentarily appeased, Perry needed no further encouragement. Settling his hand on her waist once more, he pulled her close, pressing kisses to her mouth, her jaw, her throat… Serafina took his hand and guided it under her blouse, sighing with pleasure as it reached her breast.

“Is this alright? Apologies, I’m familiar with all of this in theory, but…”

“Peregrine, if you apologize one more time I’m going to bite you.”

“Really?”

Peregrine flushed a deep red at the earnestness in his voice, seemingly as surprised as she was at what had come out of his mouth. Serafina let out a rather unladylike snort of laughter, and resumed unbuttoning his waistcoat.

“Well, we have things to explore, it seems! Speaking of exploration, do feel free to let your hands wander.”

“It’s just… When you talk, I can see the points of your fangs, and I’ve wondered on occasion…”

“Have you, indeed?”

Serafina eased his waistcoat over his shoulders, then pulled him back in, kissing him again. He slipped his hand beneath her blouse once more, feeling her breast move with her increasingly rapid breathing, before lowering it, finding the waistband of her trousers. He broke off kissing her to give her a questioning look, and she nodded, before tugging the ribbon from his hair and running her fingers through the silken strands.

Easing her trousers over her hips and setting them aside, Perry blushed at what he saw beneath. Looking to Serafina for confirmation once more, he set his fingers to work, parting her folds. After all his sneezing, she was slick enough for there to be no resistance at all. Serafina let out a gasp as he found what he was looking for.

“AH! You’ve clearly studied your theory well. Some men need a map down there!”

Perry lit up at the praise. Charmed, Serafina pulled him in for another kiss, moaning against his mouth as his delicate fingers stroked and circled. What he lacked in experience, Perry made up for in attention to detail, seemingly noting what drew noises from her lips and altering his technique accordingly. Serafina all but whined when he slowed his ministrations and, face flushed, avoided her eyes for a moment.

“I wonder… I’ve read… I wonder if I might try…”

“Try whatever you like. You clearly have an instinct for it. Just don’t stop.”

To her immense frustration, Perry did stop, looking around for something. Spotting it and smiling, he rose, positioning himself to get up, and wrapped one arm around Serafina’s shoulders, the other beneath her knees, clearly meaning to lift her.

“May I?”

Serafina nodded, and let out a giggle as he scooped her up, holding her against his chest. As he carried her to a nearby moss-covered rock, she pressed a kiss to his exposed throat, and gave him a teasing nip. The noise he made was utterly delightful.

Perry set her down on the rock, and knelt before her, looking equally excited and nervous. Looking to her once again for permission and receiving a nod, he parted her legs and leaned forward, his mouth picking up where his fingers had left off. Serafina gasped, arching her back, and placed a hand on his head, stroking his hair as he attended to her.

“Is this..?”

“Peregrine, I don’t know what you’ve been studying, but… AH! … Top marks…”

Serafina squirmed, her fingers stroking through Perry’s hair, her breathing quickening, unsure if she wanted him to draw matters out, or go in for the kill. Perry’s hand stroked her thigh as his tongue circled her most sensitive region, and she moaned, whimpered, squirmed, and…

“HHYIESHIEW!”

“AHH!”

Her fingers gripped his hair tight as the cry was drawn from her throat, and Perry pulled back in horror, eyes wide.

“I didn’t feel it coming, I’m so very…”

Serafina leaned forward and crushed her lips against his, tasting herself on them.

“Don’t you dare apologize!”

“I… should I keep going?”

“I may do something drastic if you don’t!”

Blushing furiously, nose still twitching, Perry bowed forward once more, pausing as he attempted to find his rhythm again to rub his nose against her inner thigh. Serafina let out a desperate mewling, her skin now shining with sweat. Her breathing grew quicker and quicker, warmth and tension growing and growing, until, with one last sweep of Perry’s tongue, she arched her back once more, barely recognizing her own voice as she cried out.

Breathing heavily, she watched as Perry rose, taking his handkerchief from his pocket to attend to his nose and tidy himself up.

“Was that… HhssHHIEW! Snf! Guh, I beg your pardon. Was that..?”

Loose limbed, smiling lazily, Serafina took hold of the front of his shirt and pulled him into a kiss, slow and languorous. She leaned her forehead against his, feeling his nose twitch as it touched hers.

“Every time I think you can’t surprise me more…”

“Erm… Would you like that bath now?”

Serafina kissed him again, first on the lips, then, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of his nose. Her smile widened as it twitched again, and she pulled Perry into an embrace, feeling his chest expand until he unleashed an irritated “HYESHIEW!” over her shoulder.

“Bless you. And the bath can wait a little longer. I believe there’s still you to attend to.”

[animationnut]

Guess the -Inator

Day 3: Alternate Universe

Soulmate AU: Candace, Ferb, Phineas, and Perry are soulmates. They are bonded by a sense connection. Candace can smell what the others smell. Ferb can physically feel what the others feel. Phineas can hear what the others hear. Perry can see what the others see.

...

Candace gazed up at the clear, cerulean sky, admiring not the beauty of the summer day, but internally crying as she watched a three-tier Ferris wheel fly off into the distance. As the neon-coloured metal contraption and its newly-acquired white, feathery wings disappeared into the horizon of Danville, Linda walked through the backyard gate.

“Well, Candace, where is it?” Linda asked, hands on her hips, weariness in her voice. “Where is this gigantic Ferris wheel monstrosity?”

“It flew away,” chirped Phineas.

Linda smiled and ruffled his red hair. “Has it? What a coincidence.”

Candace huffed and crossed her arms. Not a coincidence, she thought darkly. Every day Dr. D hits our backyard with whatever insane -Inator he’s come up with, which somehow is exactly the thing to make Phineas and Ferb’s inventions vanish.

It was beyond frustrating, having to battle against the force of a mad scientist’s schemes to bust her brothers. She begged, cried, screamed, threatened, and went on a hunger strike. But Perry refused to budge. Under no circumstance was she allowed to make any kind of contact with Doofenshmirtz.

“I’m going to warm up some apple crisp. I’ll give you a shout when it’s ready.”

“Thanks Mom!” said Phineas cheerfully. When she slipped inside through the sliding glass door, he turned to his siblings, dark blue eyes bright. “Okay, today’s -Inator has something to do with wings.”

“Obviously,” grumbled Candace, “Ugh, why are his ray thingies always so weird?”

Phineas plopped against the warm grass, Ferb lying beside him. They looked at Candace expectantly, and with a sigh she joined them, the blades tickling her bare legs. At the end of the day, since they discovered Perry was a sentient and their soulmate, she and her brothers would play a game they invented—Guess the -Inator.

It was a special time for them, to close their eyes and recall the sensations Perry experienced during his mission. Candace idly scratched the soulmark on the palm of her left hand, a brown fedora. “There was smoke, as usual,” she spoke, remembering the moment the sour scent filled her nostrils. “Um…I think I smelled anchovies.”

That had been nauseating, the sudden rush of salty and fishy brine. Phineas hummed. His hands rested behind his head, the sun glimmering against the black grappling hook soulmark on his right elbow. “That tracks. I heard waves and seagulls, so Perry was definitely at the pier.”

Candace furrowed her brow. “Oh. Maybe I was smelling the ocean, then. It’s definitely fishy and salty.”

“No, no, I think you’re right about the anchovies,” insisted Phineas. “Isn’t there a big anchovy boat that docks there?”

Ferb nodded. “There was a moment where I felt like I was covered in tiny slimy things, so it definitely has to be anchovies.” On the curve of his neck, peeking above his shirt collar, was a red and white jetpack, his soulmark for Perry.

“So he built a Wing-Inator to make an anchovy fishing boat fly away,” said Candace with a snort. “Why?”

“Why would he want to get rid of anchovies?” murmured Phineas. “Maybe so they can no longer go on pizza?”

Candace certainly had no better guess, and she and Ferb nodded in agreement. The next part of the game was to figure out how Perry was travelling home. She closed her eyes and focussed on her scent connection to Perry, fresh air tickling her nostrils, tainted slightly by exhaust from afternoon traffic.

“I don’t smell any kind of fuel, so it’s not his hovercar or jetpack.”

Phineas shifted his arms so they were not blocking his ears. “It’s gotta be his hat propeller,” he said. The vibrations from what sounded like helicopter blades brushed against his eardrums.

Ferb, who always felt the caress of a warm breeze whenever Perry travelled by air and could not distinguish his form of transportation, gave a thumbs-up to indicate he thought that was a solid guess.

A few minutes later Perry came into view, descending towards their backyard, his hat propeller churning so fast the blades were a grey blur. When he was mere feet from the ground, he retracted the device and landed on the grass, one paw reaching out to balance himself.

“There you are, Perry,” said Phineas with a smile. He sat up, crossing his legs and folding his hands in his lap. “We guessed your escape method!”

Perry grinned, tucking his fedora away and curling up in Phineas’ lap. The redhead ran his fingers lightly along his spine. “Our guess for the -Inator of the day is a Wing-Inator. Dr. D built it so he could make the big anchovy fishing boat at the pier fly away, making sure no one else can ever have anchovies on their pizza again.”

Perry whistled, impressed. He held index finger and thumb so close together they were almost touching. “Okay, did we get the name right?” Candace asked. Perry shook his head and she rolled over slightly so she could face her brothers and Perry. “Is it overly complicated or stupidly simple?”

Perry held up two fingers. Phineas guessed, “No-More-Anchovies-On-Pizza-Inator?”

Ferb rubbed his chin. “Anchovy-Fly-Away-Inator?”

Perry snapped his fingers and pointed at Ferb, who pumped his fist. “Good one, bro,” said Phineas. “What did you think of our Ferris wheel?”

The platypus smiled. It usually played out that when Doofenshmirtz trapped him, Phineas and Ferb had finished constructing their Big Idea of the day and were just beginning to enjoy it. The three-tier Ferris wheel had been spectacular, with all its glowing lights and bright colours. Ever since Phineas and Ferb learned that Perry’s sense connection to them was sight, they tried to make their inventions much more visual in scope.

Perry sent a sympathetic glance at Candace, remembering he had tapped into her vision just as she reached the tip top of the highest Ferris wheel. Given her fear of heights, he couldn’t imagine that she enjoyed herself.

Candace noticed Perry’s look and shuddered. “Yeah. Don’t know what I was thinking, getting into that stupid thing. I’m just glad I got off before it flew away.”

Frowning, Perry rolled out of Phineas’ lap so he was sitting in the middle of the little circle his kids had formed in the grass. He gave a firm shake of his head, tapping his chest, and Candace smiled. “Yeah, I know you’d never let me Dr. D’s -Inator carry me away.” She gave him a noogie and Perry batted her hands away with a chuckle.

“I can’t wait to see what Dr. D is going to do tomorrow!” When Perry looked at him sharply, Phineas grinned sheepishly. “Whoops. Too much excitement? Sorry. It’s just that he’s really creative, and I think evil might be a bit of a stretch.”

“I don’t,” said Candace with a sniff. “Making weird rays, blasters, and machinery that takes away your inventions seconds before Mom can see them is pretty evil in my opinion.” When Perry stared at her in exasperation, she growled, “No, I will not get over it, thank you very much.”  

[izels-writing]

s. black — i’ll see you around

Pairing: sirius black x fem!reader

Summary: whoever said love was easy was lying, especially to sirius.

Warnings: ANGST with NO happy ending, i felt so bad writing this, y’all can blame the guy who was a dickhead to me, (TW) alcohol use, i felt so bad writing the bimbo part, listen to the 1 by taylor swift or the one that got away by katy perry to get a REAL experience

you felt tears brim your eyes, a burning heat in your chest as his worlds echoed in your head. you felt nauseous, unable to meet sirius' eyes. you couldn't look at him.

we're just not right for each other right now.

"y/n, please look at me." sirius pleaded.

you blinked, letting the tears fall as you looked up at him. a part of you was furious, wanting to throw any object you could at him. how could he pursue you? how could he...knowing this was his ultimate ending with you?

"fine, we're done," you replied, sniffling quietly. "uh, i'll see you around." you added, looking at him one last time and leaving his dormitory.

you walked past your mutual friends, not daring to spare a glance at them. you ignored their calls and ignored marlene and lily as they tried to run after to you, to no avail.

you needed time. time alone.

——

FOUR MONTHS LATER…

"come on, you don't want to go out tonight? this band is playing at the pub tonight! you'll love it!" marlene exclaimed, throwing your duvet off your body. you groaned loudly, attempting to pull it back on.

you glared at marlene through half-lidded eyes, "i want to nap, leave me alone," you muttered.

mary sat in the chair of your vanity, legs crossed—showing off her gogo boots. she smiled softly. "y/n, you can't become some shut in for the rest of your life because of sirius black..."

you rolled your eyes internally. "i'm not a shut in because of sirius,"

truth be told, you were. not necessarily a shut in, but for four months, you hadn't opened yourself up to anyone else. not platonically and certainly not romantically. maybe in your young mind, you were wrong and dramatic, but you were convinced that he was it for you. and now that you didn't have him? well, you just felt stuck.

"then come out with us tonight, find a guy to shag! sex away all your problems!" marlene grinned.

"or girl," mary suggested.

"for the last time, mary, your dream of y/n being gay just isn't happening!" marlene scolded, throwing abt-shirt toward mary. mary laughed and dodged her t-shirt, sighing, "a girl can dream..."

"if i go out for two hours, will you let me be?" you huffed, sitting up in annoyance and staring at blonde and brunette with frustration. they glanced at each other before turning to you, nodding vigorously.

"fine," you muttered, moving off the bed. "give me two hours to get ready,"

marlene squeaked with joy.

within two hours, you were ready for a night out on the town. you wore dark sultry makeup, a mini black dress, cute heeled boots, and a cropped band tee over your dress. you hair was pulled back into a bun, with two pieces of hair framing your face.

with the magic of apparition, the three of you were in front of the pub in no time. you entered timidly with your ecstatic friends, who quickly met up with your shared group of friends. in one side of the pub sat peter, remus, james with lily in his lap, dorcas, emmeline, and...sirius, with a girl in his lap.

"look who we convinced to come out tonight!" marlene grinned, enjoying the happy cheers from their friends as you appeared beside mary and marlene.

"doesn't she look ravishing tonight?" mary grinned, kissing your cheek before joining emmeline in her chair.

lily, likely feeling your uncomfortable energy, smiled and got up from james' lap. she pulled you into a hug, "hey, love! how are you? want to get a drink?" she asked, you smiled in return.

"i would love one," you replied, avoiding looking at sirius and the girl on his lap. the girl was certainly looking at you. she guided you to the bar and ordered you both a vodka cranberry.

"how are you? with all that, i mean," lily asked. "i know you didn't want to come tonight, but i also know marlene and mary can be persistent,"

you laughed and nodded. "that they can. it's fine, they've got good intentions,"

lily leaned closer, smiling softly. "i know it's hard seeing him, but i'm here if you need me. also, don't pay attention to the bimbo attatched—i can be mean to her if you want,"

you chuckled. "lily, that's really not necessary,"

lily looked at you innocently and wide eyed. "oh it's no problem," she shrugged. "i was already planning on being mean anyway,"

you laughed, clinking your drink with hers softly as it was placed in both your hands. "evans, have i ever told you how much i love you?"

"no," she grinned cheekily. "but i already know."

——

“how have you been?” sirius asked, looking at you as you diverted from james’ animated retelling of his quidditch game. straight after school, he’d been scouted to join a national quidditch team—and lord knows how talented james is.

“fine,” you replied, subtly taking notice to the fact that aleesa had gotten up to get another drink at the bar. she had been giving you glares every time you even looked at them. no wonder he was talking to you.

“just fine?” sirius grinned.

“yeah, just fine,” you replied curtly—taking another sip of your vodka cran that actually tasted like rubbish. but given you only turned 18 a few months ago, it was the only thing you really felt courageous another to order at a bar.

he grin fell slightly. he wasn’t quite used to your cold nature toward him. you had seen each other on and off the past few months, but since your friends less than favored the tension, they didn’t invite the two of you together for many events. sirius was used to the soft and kind-hearted you, the only that massaged his scalp during movie nights and smiled at his every joke. not the you that hardly looked at him and couldn’t even pretend to laugh at his jokes.

god, how could he not miss you?

perhaps you were the problem. perhaps you were too self-centered, perhaps you should let go of this relationship. but he was your first everything, how could he let go so quickly when you struggled to even glance at old pictures of the two of you?

suddenly, you felt a figure loom beside you. you looked up, smiling at the handsome young guy who had come up to you with a smile. he was certainly brave, doing it in front of your friends.

“hey, love,” he grinned, his green eyes scanning you.

you smiled slightly, looking up at him with confusion yet amused. “hello…?” you paused, waiting for his name.

“luke,” he replied shyly.

you smiled. “luke, lovely name.”

“i bet yours is even lovelier…?” he paused as well, waiting for your name. you chuckled, cradling your drink close to you like some form of comfort.

“y/n,” you replied.

“and i was right,” he grinned. “wanna dance?”

“actually, we were—“ sirius began, but lily put her hand on his shoulder and he looked at her confused. like this was something he wasn’t supposed to intervene in. like his attempts to help you were selfish intentions.

“i’d love to,” you smiled, putting your drink down and taking his hand. he was kind, so far, and tall and handsome. how could you say no?

you quickly joined luke on the dance floor, dancing along to the live music—joining everyone else in their drunken night of dancing and singing. he held you close, and the two of you talked, you laughing quietly yet noticeably at his jokes. he seemed to enjoy your company as well.

sirius watched the two of you from afar, and one thing became obvious. as the music was drowned out by his racing thoughts, as he suddenly felt no wanting for the girl by his side, and as he felt a cold rush envelop his body—it was then he realized.

he had made a mistake breaking up with you.

bonus;

“i sure hope you can come, and bring a date!” you smiled, handing sirius a lively, white and blue invitation. as soon as he saw you and luke’s name on it, he began to feel sick.

sirius chuckled. “and if i can’t find one?” he joked, hoping to ease his own tension.

“you’ll find one,” you smiled.

except he didn’t want another date. he wanted you. for the past four years—all he’s wanted is you. how could he attend? attend you and another man getting married?

“or, of course, you can come alone,” you suggested, feeling an unease in the air as he stared at the invitation. “i’m sure most of my cousins would fancy a dance with you,”

he chuckled. “you think?”

you chuckled. “you’re a very handsome man, sirius, don’t forget that.” you joked, patting his shoulder before standing up from his couch. “well, i’ve got to deliver the rest of these—i’ll see you around,”

and off you were.

and with a frown, sirius took a sip of his tea—staring hard at the invitation in his hands, attempting to trick his mind into seeing his name beside yours.

[local-dragon-haunt]

hi,sorry for annoying you but, i couldnt seem to cmlete the fanart but cant seem to getyuor au out of my head so, here is a fanfiction i wrote when i should have been studing,itsa first drft and my first time writing fanfiction.(i imagine this too be when perry is a bit older mabye 12? 11? and mabyre realisng/having the effects of being a child soldier)

The living room was alive with the usual chaos of a Phineas and Ferb invention. Phineas and Ferb were fully absorbed in their latest video game, with Candace sitting nearby, frustrated at yet another round lost to her brothers' unrelenting teamwork. The pixelated world on the screen was no match for her, and she wasn’t going down without a fight.

“I swear, I’ll beat you this time!” Candace snapped, throwing her hands in the air as her character was sent flying off the screen yet again.

“Candace, you’ve got to dodge the lasers!” Phineas said, not even glancing up from the screen, still grinning with that same cheery optimism. “Just time it right, and you’ll get it!”

“Ugh, you two are impossible!” Candace groaned, feeling the frustration build.

Ferb just raised an eyebrow, unfazed, and continued tapping away at his controller.

Meanwhile, Perry sat on the floor by the couch, his controller resting untouched in his lap. He watched them. He wanted to be part of it. He wanted to dive into the silly banter, to join in their laughter and frustration. But the truth was, no matter how much he wanted to be in the moment with his family, something always kept him apart. Something he couldn’t talk about, couldn’t explain. The weight of it kept him at arm’s length, even when he was physically right there.

He wasn’t just Perry. He was also Agent P.

He wasn’t just a brother. He was a secret spy, hiding his true identity from the very people he loved. Every time he had to go on a mission, every time he had to leave them behind, it felt like a piece of him was ripped away. He hated it. Hated the secret, hated the danger, hated how he had to keep them in the dark to protect them. And yet... it was all part of the job.

The guilt was a constant weight, one that had been building since he was first recruited by OWCA. They had designed him for this life—a life of danger and deception. But it wasn’t the missions that hurt him the most. It was the quiet moments like this—when he couldn’t be fully present with his family, when he had to hold everything inside.

Perry sighed quietly, his eyes dropping to the controller in his hands. He just wanted to laugh with Phineas, to roll his eyes at Candace's drama. He just wanted to be... normal.

Candace, still stewing over her in-game failures, glanced over at him, her brow furrowing when she noticed how still he was.

"Hey, Perry," she said, voice tinged with frustration but also concern. "Why are you sitting there like that? You’ve been quiet all day. You love this game."

Perry’s fingers hovered over the controller for a moment, then he signed slowly, trying to put into words what he couldn’t say. “I want to play, but I can’t(brief pause) i dont feel so well right now.”

Candace’s eyes softened, even though she still couldn’t entirely understand what he meant. She had long known that Perry didn’t talk much, and that there were things about him he kept hidden. But today, there was something else. She didn’t push him to explain—she knew better by now—but she still felt that familiar twinge of concern.

“Why not?” she asked gently, lowering her controller. "You’re part of this family, Perry. We’re all in this together. You don’t have to sit on the sidelines."

Perry bit his lip, feeling the weight of her words more than usual. He was part of the family. He loved them more than anything. But he couldn’t be the brother they thought he was. He couldn’t be just a kid with them. There was always the risk, the looming fear that his secret life could destroy everything he held dear.

He signed again, slower this time, the words heavy in the air. “It’s hard to be here... but not really be here.”

Candace frowned. She could feel the weight behind his words now. It wasn’t just about the game. It wasn’t about the silly things that she could see. Perry was dealing with something bigger.

Phineas, ever the optimist, misinterpreted the situation. "Yeah, I get it,” he said brightly, not picking up on the deeper meaning. “Your school doesn’t even give you summer breaks, huh? That must be tough, having to study all year while we’re out here having fun.”

Candace rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, Phineas. Don’t make him feel worse,” she said, her voice a little sharper than usual, but still concerned. She turned back to Perry. “You don’t have to hide things from us, you know. We’re your family. We’re always here for you.”

Perry managed a small, grateful smile, though the weight in his chest didn’t go away. He didn’t want them to know. He couldn’t tell them. If they found out the truth about who he was and what he did... he could never forgive himself if it put them in danger.

But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

Ferb, as always, said nothing. But his quiet nod of understanding was enough to make Perry feel like he wasn’t completely alone in the room.

Perry signed again, his hands slow, but steady. “I’m here. Just not all the way.”

Candace gave him a soft look, her usual edge gone for the moment. “I get it,” she said quietly, her tone gentler now. “But if you ever need to talk... we’re here. You don’t have to do it alone.”

Perry’s chest tightened. He wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell all of them, but he couldn’t. So he just nodded, giving her a small smile. It was enough for now.

He picked up his controller and signed, “Let’s play.”

Candace smiled brightly. “Now you’re talking!”

Phineas grinned, fully unaware of the weight Perry was carrying, but still eager to include him. “That’s the spirit, Perry! Let’s see what you got!”

Ferb just nodded and smiled softly.

For now, Perry could put the burden aside. He could be part of the moment. He could laugh and play and forget, even if just for a little while, about the world he had to hide from them

AHHHH this is so good! I love seeing other people's interpretation of this au :)

[murmeloni]

This is for the DCU Valentine's Day 2024!

Big thanks to @wait-whos-batman for organizing it!

Clark receives a card from a secret admirer on Valentine's Day. There's no signature and no way to see who it's from. It just says to come to the football game that afternoon. Clark is flattered, Bruce is concerned. But really… What could possibly go wrong?

“I'll have the story done by tomorrow, Perry, cross my heart”, said Clark, sandwiching his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he fumbled for his keys, simultaneously trying to shift his grocery bags into one hand without dropping them. 

Clark's only answer was an aggravated sigh and a curt “You better”, before the line went dead. 

“Good work, Kent. Make sure you get a little rest, Kent. Have a nice evening, Kent”, grumbled Clark sarcastically as he finally got the door open. Thankfully without dropping his shopping. 

“Meow.”

Startled, Clark looked at the fluffy white and brown birman cat belonging to his downstairs neighbor Mrs. Hall. Sliding his phone back into his pocket, he bent down and scratched the cat's head. “At least you're happy to see me, Lady Pawlington. And happy Valentine's Day to you too.”

The cat pressed her fluffy head against Clark's fingers for a moment, meowing again, before slinking forward to inspect the grocery bags. Laughing, Clark straightened up and lifted the plastic bags out of the cat's reach. “Unfortunately, none of the stuff in there is meant for cats. If a certain friend of mine is to be believed they're not even for humans but I know you can keep a secret.”

Still smiling to himself, Clark moved up the stairs, mind now occupied with thoughts of Bruce as it so often was. Bruce would have a lot to say about Clark's shopping, that was for sure. He was almost tempted to let slip what he'd bought at the Justice League meeting tomorrow, just to hear the lecture again, but he thought that was maybe a bit too pathetic, even for him. Although… It was Valentine's Day and Clark was spending it alone with chocolates he'd bought for himself - again - so he felt he was allowed to make himself feel better any way he could. 

As he stood in front of his door, once again fumbling with his keys, he suddenly became aware of the heartbeat coming from inside his apartment. A very familiar heartbeat. Clark's stomach fluttered and maybe he moved a little faster than a normal human could to shove his key into the lock. The door clicked open and a bump sounded from his kitchen, as if something had been knocked over. 

Clark quickly closed the door again before he used a burst of speed to join Bruce, who was standing beside the kitchen table. He didn’t even look up when Clark came to a halt next to him, the displaced air ruffling his artfully styled hair. Clark wanted to run his hands through it, but he hastily squashed the urge before he could do something stupid. 

“Hey, B. What are you doing here?” Not that Clark cared. He was always happy to see Bruce. But he was also worried that there might be something wrong. It wasn't often that Bruce dropped by his apartment, never mind in the middle of the day and without announcing himself… Clark bit his lip. “Is there something wrong?”

For an endless second Bruce didn't react, just stared down at Clark's kitchen table, his fingers fiddling with a pink envelope. “No, nothing's wrong.” He cleared his throat. ”I was just in the area and wanted to see if you'd like to be Bruce Wayne's interviewer for the night.” A small smile curved his perfect lips and a part of Clark was going feral at the sight of it. So much so that he almost didn't understand Bruce's next words. ”But I guess you already have plans…” 

Bruce's smile disappeared as he tapped the pink envelope on the table and finally Clark's brain switched online again. He stepped closer, frowning a little as he studied the envelope. 

“Why would I have plans?”, he asked and paused. “Is that a Valentine's Day card?”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, perfectly conveying his judgment. “What gave it away? The pale pink paper? Or the fact that it is covered in gaudy hearts and glitter?”

Clark ignored the snarky tone and carefully picked the thick envelope up. It was heavier than it looked and upon closer inspection it seemed homemade. Warmth flooded his chest, despite not knowing who this card was from. He'd hoped, for maybe a tenth of a second, that it might be from Bruce but the snark pretty much nipped that delusion in the bud. The disappointment of which Clark was studiously ignoring right now, thank you very much. 

“I've never gotten a Valentine's Day card before.” 

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Never? I find that hard to believe.”

Clark shook his head. “I was the opposite of popular in school and college.”

Crossing his arms, Bruce leaned his hip against the kitchen counter. “But you've been in relationships before.”

Clark shrugged helplessly, still not taking his eyes from the envelope. “Most of them weren't serious enough and the one that was… Well, Lois doesn't believe in Valentine's Day.”

“Hn”, made Bruce and that was apparently it for this topic because he began to busy himself with making coffee. He pulled out sugar, milk and two mugs, choosing Clark's favorite Batman mug, which was odd because he complained about the thing every chance he got. Only once the machine was happily gurgling along and there was nothing left to prepare did he turn around again to impatiently wave his hand at Clark. “Open it already.”

If Clark hadn't been so preoccupied with his very first Valentine's card ever he'd have started to wonder at Bruce's odd behavior. As it was, he swallowed thickly and gently wiggled his finger underneath the flap of the envelope, carefully prying it open without damaging it, which made Bruce huff in annoyance. 

Despite the slightly gaudy envelope, as Bruce had so rudely put it, the card was really sweet. It was made from rustic looking carton and on its front were two hot air balloons, their domes made of flimsy pink paper, folded to look like hearts. A ladder was reaching from one balloon's wicker basket to the other. Opening the card, the first thing Clark saw was the ticket to the Metropolis Giants vs. Gotham Rogues football match this evening. A VIP ticket. Clark felt his mouth drop open in shock. That must've cost a fortune! 

And then he noticed the poem. Written in a beautiful, looping script, it took up most of the space on the card. Heart beating a little faster, Clark ran a shaky finger along the lines as he read:

There is a silk ladder unrolled across the ivy

There is

That leaning over the precipice 

Of the hopeless fusion of your presence and absence 

I have found the secret 

Of loving you

Always for the first time

"Always For The First Time" by André Breton

Meet me at the game tonight. 

Love, 

Your secret admirer 

The sound of a mug being practically slammed onto the table in front of him startled Clark out of his reverie. Looking up, he found Bruce studying him with a carefully blank expression, knuckles white as he gripped his own mug a little too tight. 

“Who is it from?”

Clark felt his heart clench in disappointment and realized he'd still held out hope the card might be from Bruce. He didn’t quite understand Bruce's annoyance but he chalked it up to him being like Lois in this regard. After all, why else would he be in Clark's apartment, looking to arrange an interview instead of going out on a date? He probably thought Valentine's Day was a capitalistic hoax or something unromantic like that. 

Wordlessly, Clark handed over the card and while B analyzed it like it was a piece of evidence in one of his cases, Clark picked up his coffee. He realized before he'd even taken the first sip that Bruce had made it just the way he liked it: with a lot of milk and way too much sugar. For some reason that made him feel even worse. 

“So what's the verdict?”, he joked weakly after the silence began to stretch, but Bruce ignored the comment. Instead, he fixed Clark with that intense, icy blue stare of his that never failed to make Clark feel weak in the knees. 

“You're not seriously considering this.”

Frowning, Clark lowered his coffee. “Why not?”

The look Bruce gave him was the one he usually reserved for Hal whenever he suggested something ridiculous, like figure skating, under the guise of team building exercises. 

“Clark… This envelope was already here when I let myself in. You're not currently dating anyone and you said yourself you don't know who this might be from. It sounds dangerous. Too dangerous. You're not going.”

Bruce's patronizing tone had Clark's hackles rising. Defensive, he snatched the card back and held it to his chest. “That's not your decision to make, Bruce.”

Truth be told, Clark didn't even know if he wanted to go to the game tonight. Because Bruce was right, it was weird that the envelope just appeared in his kitchen like this. But that didn't have to automatically be a bad thing. Any member of the League could have left the card there. It rankled, the thought that Bruce found him so undesirable that the only reason he'd get a card and a gift on Valentine's was to lure him into some kind of trap. Plus, Clark could be stubborn and petty, too. And right now he was sorely tempted to let that side of himself take the reins. 

In the end it was Bruce's scoff and the curt “Don't be ridiculous” that made the decision for Clark. Crossing his arms, he raised his chin and glared at Bruce. 

“Are you done? Because I have a date tonight I need to get ready for.”

Bruce's brows drew together, his jaw working. “You can't be serious. Be reasonable.”

But Clark only held Bruce's stare, not budging, until Bruce's eyes hardened. “Fine”, he snapped, whirling around and dumping his coffee in the sink before setting the mug down a bit harder than necessary. “Go. But don't come crying to me if you end up kidnapped!”

It was Clark's turn to scoff, but in his case it was more to cover up the hurt blooming in his chest. Unfortunately, his mouth opened before he could fully swallow back the words. “Because that's the only reason anyone would go out with me, right? Just because the high and mighty Bruce Wayne thinks I'm that unattractive doesn't mean everybody else does.”

Bruce's posture abruptly loosened, as if Clark's response had startled him. “Clark…”, he tried, but humiliation was entering the mix of emotions swirling in Clark's gut, made all the worse by the fact that, despite everything, all he wanted to do right now was cuddle Bruce. Or maybe bend him over the table and gently eat him out until he cried. 

“You should go, Bruce.”

For a long moment Bruce hovered, looking like he wanted to say something else, but in the end he just… left. Clark stood in his kitchen and stared after him, stomach roiling. Maybe he really should go on that date. It seemed obvious now that Bruce would never return his feelings and maybe it was time Clark made an effort to move on. Taking a deep breath, he went into the bathroom. The game was starting in two hours and apparently he was going. The least he could do was look nice. 

By now Bruce was already walking down the street outside but Clark still heard him when he whispered: “At least text me later to let me know you got home safe, Clark. And for the record? I don't want to be right about this. You deserve to enjoy a nice date.”

Clark swallowed, heart aching as he stared at himself in the mirror. “Maybe Lois is onto something with her dislike of Valentine's Day.”

<3 <3 <3 

Bruce decided to walk back to his hotel instead of taking a cab. He needed to clear his head. Snapping at Clark like that… It was unforgivable. But just remembering the awed expression on his face as he’d traced the writing on that card was setting Bruce's teeth on edge. He'd come here to spend the day with Clark, following his heart's foolish impulse instead of doing what he should have done and gone on one of Brucie Wayne's famous ‘outings’. He should have planned something ridiculous to feed the gossip rags for a few weeks. Instead he'd come here and made Clark feel bad for something that was entirely Bruce's problem. 

Striding into the hotel lobby, Bruce arranged his face into a lazy smile, despite the unease and jealousy still churning in his gut. He breezed past the reception and made it into his suite without anyone trying to talk to him. He'd barely taken two steps inside before he froze. There was a pink envelope sitting on the coffee table. It looked exactly like the one Clark had gotten and suddenly Bruce had a suspicion what was going on. 

Setting his jaw, he stomped over and picked the envelope up, opening it with much less care than Clark had done. Just like he expected, it was the same card and there was a second ticket to the football game this afternoon tucked inside. There was also another poem:

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. 

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of being and ideal grace.

"How Do I Love Thee? (Sonnet 43)" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning 

Meet me at the game tonight. 

Love, 

Your secret admirer

Bruce felt the sudden urge to bang his head against the nearest wall. The poem was beautiful. It encompassed his feelings for Clark perfectly and made his chest feel tight with emotion. It had also most definitely been picked by Jason. Bruce had heard him gush about it to Waylon multiple times. Which was the reason for the headache suddenly brewing behind Bruce's eyes. 

Rubbing at his temples he pulled out his phone and dialed Jason's number. He paced the length of his room as he waited for his son to pick up and when he finally did, Bruce didn't wait for him to say something. 

“What the hell were you thinking?”

“Hello to you too, B. Nice of you to call”, came Jason's sarcastic reply and Bruce ground his teeth. 

“Don't pretend like you don't know what you did. I told you not to interfere!”

Jason scoffed. “It's not like you'll ever get your head out of your ass and do anything yourself! The pining was getting painful to witness. Besides, this wasn't even my idea. The demon brat and I only made the cards. Dickie and Tim were the ones who delivered them.” 

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “What are you talking about.”

“Oh come on, B! You're supposed to be the world's greatest detective! Figure it out! I mean, have you even looked at the fucking tickets?”

“Language–”, Bruce started to admonish, brows furrowing unhappily, but Jason had already ended the call. Cursing, Bruce put away his phone and opened the card once again. He looked at the ticket still tucked safely inside and immediately felt his insides freeze in humiliation. That was Alfred's Wayne Enterprises ID at the bottom. 

Bruce closed his eyes. It was just like Alfred to enact such a dramatic and intentionally obvious plan to finally get Bruce to do something about his feelings for Clark, despite Bruce telling him repeatedly why that was a horrible idea. The question now was, what was Bruce going to do about this? He couldn't very well go to the game. After their fight earlier Clark would think he was trying to sabotage him. But if Bruce didn't go… That would mean Clark would be stood up. And on his very first Valentine's Day date at that. Bruce remembered the reverent way Clark had looked at the card, how he'd so carefully traced the words of the poem. He debated calling Clark now, telling him what Alfred and the kids had done, but… 

But that would mean disappointing - and quite possibly humiliating - him. It would mean the first date Clark had ever had on Valentine's Day would have been nothing more than a poor attempt at meddling from Bruce's family. Just imagining the look on Clark's face made Bruce feel a little sick.

Which meant he had to go to the game and he had to do it right. 

He swallowed, heart racing and palms clammy. This could potentially ruin everything. But the thought of disappointing Clark was simply unbearable. 

Pulling out his phone once more, Bruce dialed Alfred's number. He got them into this mess so it was only fair he should get them out of it too. 

“Master Bruce”, greeted Alfred in a voice that was the perfect blend of polite and smug. “What can I do for you?”

Bruce ground his teeth. “You know perfectly well why I'm calling, Alfred.”

“I believe I do, Sir. Should I make the usual arrangements?” Bruce had to take a deep breath. He could practically hear the self-satisfied smirk in Alfred's voice and it was driving him up the wall. 

“It's his first date on Valentine's Day. Ever. He deserves a lot more than the usual”, snapped Bruce, irritated by Alfred's cavalier attitude. This little scheme could spell the end of Bruce's and Clark's friendship. “And just so you know: if this backfires I'm holding you responsible.”

“Very well, Sir. I'll have everything delivered to you within the hour.”

Bruce hung up the phone before he could say anything he might regret and instead began to loosen his tie with a little more force than necessary. He'd have to make this the best first Valentine's Day ever to make up for the argument and his children's schemes and that meant looking his best. He glanced at his watch. One and a half hours left. Bruce went into the bathroom and got ready for his date. Probably the most important date of his life. 

<3 <3 <3 

Clark was late. 

He couldn't help it. He'd been on his way over when he heard a mine cave in in Africa and once he'd saved the workers he'd had to deal with the ‘representatives’ of the company that owned the mine trying to cover the incident up. He'd held them off, contacted the local authorities and Lois, and surreptitiously gathered what evidence he could while protecting the miners. When help had finally arrived, Clark quickly flew back to Metropolis, picked Lois up and brought her to the scene. The journalistic equivalent of setting the bloodhounds loose. The owners of that company won't know what hit them. Which was cause for celebration, really. Except that now he was late for his date. And he felt bad for even thinking that because obviously saving people was and would always be his top priority. But it sucked that his already pretty abysmal love life had to suffer further blows for it. 

Of course the whole ‘being desperately in love with your best friend’-thing didn't exactly help matters any.

All of that to say, Clark wasn't just late he was also distracted when he climbed the steps to take his seat and meet his secret admirer. Doubts had started to creep in during the past two and a half hours. Because… Because Clark didn't want it to be just anyone waiting here for him. He wanted it to be Bruce. And he felt it wasn't fair to put that on whoever it was that had gone to all this trouble for him. But he'd come this far and if his conversation with Bruce earlier had shown him anything it was that he should really start to make an effort to move on. Going on this date seemed to be a good first step in that direction. 

So Clark hurried to his seat, an apology on his lips. The game had started some time ago and he felt bad for whoever was waiting for him. They had to think they were being stood up. But then he reached his seat and the words died in his throat. 

“Bruce?”, he whispered, and it shouldn't have been loud enough in this stadium full of people, talking and yelling and cheering on their team but Bruce turned his head anyway. Their eyes locked and Bruce slowly got up from his seat. And it was unfair, really, thought Clark despairingly, how utterly gorgeous Bruce looked. His hair was styled to perfection, his face was freshly shaved, and a light layer of makeup covered his skin, emphasizing his already sharp cheekbones and lush lips. He wasn't wearing one of his customary suits or his trusty turtleneck-sweaters-and-dress-pants-combo. Instead he was wearing a white linen shirt, the first few buttons of which were undone, revealing a tantalizing view of his collarbones. The shirt was tucked into dark blue slacks that showed off Bruce's impressive thighs and small waist in a way that made Clark's mouth run dry and his knees feel weak. And other people might think this was Bruce dressing down but Clark knew better. He knew that Bruce never allowed himself to be this comfortable outside of his own home and even then he often stuck to his armor of formal attire. Clark was a little speechless to be honest. Especially once his eyes landed on the flowers and chocolate lying on the seat next to Bruce's. 

“Clark…” said Bruce quietly, a nervous tension around his eyes. “I… I didn't think you were coming.”

Clark blinked. The sole fact that Bruce was stating the obvious like this betrayed just how nervous he really was and that settled the worst of Clark's fears, the irrational part of him that thought this might be a cruel joke of some kind. Enough so that he finally found his voice. 

“There was an emergency at work…”, he explained and abruptly realized that people were beginning to pay more attention to them than the game. Cheeks hot, he gestured at the seats. “Mind if we sit down?”

Bruce's gaze flittered over the people around him and Clark swore a light dusting of pink colored his face as well. “Of course.” 

A little stiffly, Bruce gathered up the flowers and chocolates and handed them to Clark. Who, as he accepted them, noticed with a dip of his stomach that the bouquet was an assortment of his favorite flowers. Chrysanthemum daisies, cornflowers and blue hyacinths. It was carefully wrapped, looked stunning and had probably cost a fortune. Much like the chocolates. They were pralinés from that really expensive chocolatier downtown that Clark absolutely adored but never allowed himself to splurge on. Or rather that he never could splurge on because he'd not have enough money to pay his rent if he did. 

Clark swallowed. “Are those… are they really for me?”

Bruce averted his eyes but nodded imperceptibly and Clark's stomach did another violent flip. “Thank you.  They are my favorite. And they're really beautiful.”

They lapsed into silence as they sat down. It was awkward as heck. Possibly because Clark was stuck racking his brain not only for things to say but for any kind of explanation. Bruce's words from earlier, his expression as he'd looked at the card, they were all still fresh on Clark's mind. His surprise and his concern, even his (likely involuntary) condescension had seemed genuine. It just seemed impossible that this had been his plan all along. Why not ask Clark out? Or admit to leaving the card when Clark surprised him in his kitchen? There had to be another explanation. 

Finally, Clark couldn't take it anymore. He turned to Bruce, leaning closer to speak directly into his ear, not wanting to be overheard. Just as he did, however, a loud cheer suddenly rose through the crowd and the people around them started to wave excitedly. As Clark turned to look, he felt the bottom of his stomach drop out. The kiss cam. He and Bruce had been caught by the kiss cam and their faces were currently plastered all over the huge monitors around the stadium. 

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”, shouted the masses and the chant was interspersed by whistles and catcalls. Clark turned to look at Bruce once more, who was staring back at him with wide eyes. The stadium announcer was goading them on, the screams of the crowd got louder and Clark… Clark snapped. Without thinking, he darted forward and pressed his lips to Bruce's in a brief, but undeniably electric kiss. Not wanting to push his luck, he pulled back just as quickly, lips tingling and the need to go in for a second, more thorough taste of Bruce's pink lips burning in his veins. He couldn't help but stare. He knew he should turn away, avert his eyes and pretend he only did it to appease the crowd, but… 

Bruce wet his lips, leaving them all pink and shiny, slightly parted and the embodiment of temptation. Their eyes met. And then Bruce's fingers were suddenly curled into the front of Clark's shirt, pulling him in and in and… and they were kissing again. Desperately, wantonly. Bruce's tongue darted out to tease the seam of Clark's lips and Clark was only too happy to open his mouth for him, a low moan escaping without permission as he did so. 

They got lost in each other. Distantly, Clark was aware of the cheers and wolf whistles, of the stadium announcer making some lewd comments and the camera flashes going off all around them but none of it mattered. He was solely focused on Bruce. His taste, his smell, the rapid beating of his heart and the breathless, bitten-off noises he made that no one but Clark would be able to hear. 

It wasn't until Bruce had to pull back for air, his eyes wide and his pupils dilated to the point that only a thin ring of blue was still visible, that reality finally came crashing in again. Clark froze, his mind instantly careening towards a full-blown panic attack. 

What the hell was he doing, kissing his best friend like that? And was this even really Bruce? Or was this a trap after all, some kind of magical doppelgänger trying to trick Clark? It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to happen to him. It wouldn’t even be the weirdest thing this week and that thought was petrifying. Except…

…Except that was definitely Bruce's heart, pounding away in his chest not two feet away from Clark. Clark would know that sound anywhere. But if this wasn’t a trap, then what was it? None of the possible answers flitting through his mind seemed to make any kind of sense and his thoughts began to spiral. 

Something of what was going on in Clark's head must have shown on his face because Bruce's expression abruptly cleared and he looked away, shoulders drawing up defensively. 

“I believe I owe you an explanation”, he said, quiet in a way Clark didn’t know what to do with. Bruce, the real Bruce, was always quiet, but he was never subdued like this. It twisted something in Clark’s chest. 

“I believe you do”, he answered after a moment longer of studying Bruce, but when Bruce made to stand, still not quite looking at Clark, a fresh, unexpected wave of panic rose within him and before he even knew what he was doing he quickly grabbed Bruce's wrist. 

“Can we… Could we stay until the end of the game?”, he blurted and felt heat crawl up his neck. Because the pathetic truth of the matter was: Clark didn't want this, whatever this was, to end yet. Or ever really, but that wasn’t an option. And not just because it was his very first real date on Valentine's Day but because it was a date on Valentine's Day with Bruce. Clark had dreamed of something like this happening for so long he didn’t even know what it was like to look at Bruce and not want. And this right here was probably his only chance to get it. Well, a glimpse of it but it was better than nothing. 

Clark took a deep breath. “I get that this date is probably just part of some plan of yours and that you actually have something better to do and this is not–”

“Yes”, said Bruce, cutting Clark's pathetic rambling short. He cleared his throat, long elegant fingers splayed on his thighs and Clark had to try very hard not to stare too much. Those thighs regularly starred in his fantasies. “I never meant to ruin your date, Clark”, Bruce continued softly, still not quite meeting his eyes. “So yes, we can see this date through and watch the game if that's what you want. I promise I'll explain everything after.” 

Clark’s shoulders sagged. “Okay, yes… Thank you.” 

He even smiled a little, despite being more than a bit apprehensive. The explanation Bruce owed him hung over them like a dark cloud. But he pushed all of that aside and made himself focus on the here and now instead. On his date with Bruce, the game they both loved and the fact that they were spending Valentine's together. It would later all turn out to be a scheme or a publicity stunt or something of the sort but for now Clark would pretend it was real. He only had to figure out how to go about that. After several more minutes of tense silence, awkward shuffling and even more awkward glances, Clark cleared his throat. Now that the decision was made he was determined to enjoy himself.

“If this were a real date what would you do?”

Bruce's gaze snapped to him. “What?”

“If this was actually a date”, repeated Clark, feeling utterly stupid but forging on anyway. “What would we be doing now? What uh…” he waved his hand, his neck feeling increasingly hot. “What moves would you pull?”

Bruce cracked a smile at that and for the first time since Clark arrived his shoulders relaxed. “Well, if this was a date…” Dimples showing, Bruce stretched, lifting his arms over his head. Clark stared, mouth running dry, as the move accentuated Bruce's broad chest and strong biceps and he was distracted enough that the arm coming to rest on the back of his chair was a surprise. Once Clark realized what Bruce had done, he burst out laughing. 

“Very smooth, Mr. Wayne. Did you steal this move from one of your kids?”

Bruce chuckled. “If anything they're the ones who stole it from me. Besides, you can't tell me it's not working. I've got my arm around you and made you laugh.”

“Touché”, said Clark and allowed himself to lean closer to Bruce. The alluring scent of Bruce's aftershave rose around him and Clark inhaled sharply, heart pounding. He licked his lips. 

“What else would you do?”

Bruce hummed, arm tightening around Clark's shoulders. “I would ask you about yourself”, he said in a low voice. “Get to know you and tell you a few anecdotes of my own. I'd try to make sure you're comfortable with me.”

Clark's heart skipped a beat, butterflies dancing in his stomach. “What would you like to know?”

Bruce met Clark's eyes, his icy blue gaze intense in a way that made Clark feel slightly breathless and said: “Everything.”

<3 <3 <3

Bruce forgot they were playing pretend. He didn’t mean to. And a part of him still was extremely aware of the fact that he owed Clark a damned good explanation once this was over. But the bigger part of him was all too happy to just let himself drown in it. To tease and flirt and soak up every blush and shy glance he could get from Clark. Every laugh and smile, every time Clark leaned into him or gave him that fond look he sometimes got… Bruce took it all and locked it away in his heart. 

But then the game was over - the Metropolis Giants had trounced the Gotham Rogues and somehow that didn't feel like a very good omen - and suddenly Bruce's time was up. Abruptly, he realized that he wasn't prepared to let it go, that he wasn't prepared to go back to just being friends, but at the same time he didn't know what he could say or do to prevent the inevitable. To prevent Clark from leaving.

As if by silent agreement they stayed seated a little while longer until most of the people around them had left and the first members of the clean-up crew made their way through the rows of seats. Bruce wondered if Clark was as reluctant to put an end to this as he was. Still, things were different now that the game was over. The spell was broken, there was a distance between them again and it felt insurmountable all of a sudden. Bruce knew he should say something, start the explanation he owed Clark, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was terrified. 

Clark shifted in his seat and looked around, his eyes anywhere but on Bruce. “We should probably head out, too.”

Bruce nodded stiffly and stood. Clark silently followed suit and together they left the stadium. 

“Did you drive here?”, asked Bruce once they were outside and Clark shook his head. 

“Ride with me?” He didn't know where that question came from. Clark didn't need a ride home. All he had to do was walk to the nearest semi-secluded alley and then he could fly the rest of the way. It was a lot faster than navigating a bike through this kind of traffic. 

And yet Clark didn't say no. 

He turned to look at Bruce for the first time in what felt like hours (but was more like fifteen minutes tops) and a small smile pulled at his lips. It was a little tense and didn't fully reach his eyes but it was a smile nonetheless. And then he said: “That would be lovely, thank you Bruce.”

Tongue suddenly too thick to form words again, Bruce quickly turned and led the way to the parking lot where he'd left his bike. It was only once they were standing in front of it that he realized another mistake. “I don't actually have a spare helmet with me.”

The look Clark gave him was unbearably fond that it made Bruce's knees go a little weak. Bruce didn't deserve that look. He'd been so selfish today. Clark should've hated him. And he probably would, once he knew the truth. “I don't need a helmet. Don't get me wrong, helmets are important and I don't like being a bad role model, but this once it's okay.”

Bruce didn't know what to make of that. Clark usually insisted on doing things properly, not just to blend in but to be a good example, like he'd said. Studying him a little closer, Bruce watched as two spots of color rose in Clark's cheeks, but he had no idea what that meant. So after another moment, he simply took the flowers and chocolates from Clark and placed them securely in the tankbag where they'd been stored before. Then he put on his helmet and swung his leg over. 

“Hop on”, he said, patting the seat behind him. Clark hesitated, but then he climbed on behind Bruce, tentatively wrapping his arms around Bruce's middle. It took every ounce of Bruce's self-control not to react to the contact or let himself sink into the touch like he so desperately wanted to. Still, as he revved the engine and pulled out of the lot, his mind was filled with images of Clark's hands sliding just a little lower, leaving his waist behind and dipping between his legs, cupping him while he drove. 

It was a miracle they didn't crash. 

The thirty minutes until Bruce parked the bike in front of Clark's apartment complex simultaneously were the longest and shortest of Bruce's life and he felt the loss of Clark's arms around him so acutely it was like he was losing a part of himself. Which was so pathetic Bruce wanted to bang his head against the wall. Since he couldn't do that without alerting Clark to what was really going on, he busied himself retrieving their things from the tankbag before climbing off and following Clark to his door. Thankfully, the awkward air between them prevented Bruce's mind from wandering again, which unfortunately also meant that his anxiety was building with every step they took towards Clark's apartment. 

“Meow.”

Bruce's thoughts stuttered to a halt as his eyes found the fluffy white and brown cat sitting on Clark's doormat. “Since when do you own a cat?”

“I don't.” Clark smiled and bent down to scratch the little feline gently behind the ears. “Lady Pawlington belongs to my neighbor. She just likes to visit from time to time.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Lady Pawlington?”

Laughing, Clark picked the cat up. “What? Do you not think she deserves that title?”

Bruce snorted, a smile tugging at his lips as he shook his head. “Not at all. She looks very regal.”

Giving the cat one last gentle scratch, Clark set it down at the end of the corridor before he returned to Bruce and unlocked the door. They headed inside and with the sound of the door clicking shut behind them all of Bruce's anxiety suddenly returned with a vengeance. He didn’t want to lose this, but most importantly he didn't want to hurt Clark and he feared at least one of those things was inevitable. 

To stall for time, Bruce headed into the kitchen and rummaged around for the vase he knew Clark kept there. He felt Clark's eyes on him the entire time but he didn't dare turn around and instead focused entirely on filling the vase with water once he'd found it and arranging the flowers just so. His hands were trembling, his pulse was elevated and he knew it would only get worse. And yet he couldn't make himself turn around and face this. 

“Are we going to dance around this all day?”, asked Clark, taking the decision from Bruce, who reluctantly turned to face him. ”Or are we going to talk about what happened?”

Bruce told himself to just get this over with and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. “I'm sorry”, he began and stopped again because the rest of the words got stuck somewhere in his throat.

Clark sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Why were you at the game today?”

Instead of using his words like he should, Bruce pulled out his own Valentine's card and silently handed it to Clark. There was so much he wanted to say but he just couldn't get his tongue to move and he hated himself for it. Clark's brow furrowed in confusion as he accepted the card. “How did you…?”

“Open it.”

Wordlessly, Clark did and the furrow between his brows only grew as he stared at the card. “What is this, B?”

Bruce pressed his lips together tightly before he finally made himself explain: “It was Alfred's idea.” 

Clark looked down at the card again, knuckles turning white with, Bruce guessed, the effort not to crinkle or rip the paper. He was always careful. It was one of the things Bruce loved about him. “What are you saying?”

Closing his eyes, Bruce braced himself. He tried to view this as a case report just so that he could talk but it was difficult. “The cards, the tickets… Alfred organized it all and he roped the boys in to help him.” He ran a hand down his face. “I knew as soon as I read the poem in my card. It's one of Jason's favorites. He confirmed it when I called him earlier.”

Clark was silent for a long time. “I still don't understand.”

Bruce didn't dare meet Clark's eyes. “Alfred and the kids made these cards and delivered one to you and one to my hotel room. They wanted to bring us together.”

“So what was this supposed to be? A prank? A set-up? Were all of you going to have a laugh about it later on?”

Bruce's hands curled into fists at the hurt in Clark's voice and he bit the inside of his cheek as his heart started to race in earnest. This was what he'd been terrified of. This was the part that could ruin everything. “A blind date.”

“What?”

Bruce cleared his throat. “It was supposed to be a blind date.” He turned away, feeling like he was going to throw up but he knew he couldn't leave it at that. He owed Clark more, so much more than this. And he didn't know what made him do it but a reckless part of him thought if he had to hurt Clark and ruin things between them… He might as well go all in. “Alfred knows how I feel about you, how I've felt about you for the past couple of years, really. He was always trying to make me tell you and I suppose he decided to take matters into his own hands.”

Clark fell silent once again and Bruce couldn't decipher the look on his face. Usually Clark wore his heart on his sleeve but right now he was surprisingly hard to read. Terrifyingly so. Finally, he asked, very quietly: “Your feelings for me?”

Bruce nodded, still not looking at Clark. He couldn't. He felt like an exposed nerve right now, like one wrong look or word could end him. 

Clark made a soft sound. “You didn't want to ruin our friendship”, he whispered, and then he was suddenly right in front of Bruce. 

“Look at me, B.”

Reluctantly, Bruce did as he was asked, because he couldn't not. He'd do anything for Clark but fear was tying his stomach into knots. Until Clark reached up and gently framed his face. “Why were you at the game today, B? Why did you go along with it? You could've just called me and told me what was going on. Why didn't you?”

Bruce swallowed hard, trembling all over now. “I didn't want to disappoint you”, he said quietly. “You should have seen the look on your face when you opened the card, Clark. You looked so happy. I didn't want to take that from you.”

A soft smile appeared on Clark's face and his thumbs began to softly caress Bruce's cheeks. “Bullshit, B. Tell me the real reason.”

A flush rose to Bruce's face and he looked at the floor. He couldn't stand to look into Clark's beautiful cornflower eyes right now. The last thing he wanted was to make himself even more vulnerable, to show his soft underbelly. But this was Clark. He wouldn't hurt Bruce, not on purpose. And he had yet to tell Bruce to fuck off. Hope swelling in his chest despite his better judgment, Bruce decided to tell the truth one more time. 

“I finally wanted to know what going on a date with you would be like. I've wanted that for so long, Clark, wanted you for so long, you have no idea. When you opened that card earlier and said you'd go out with whoever sent it, I was so jealous I could hardly stand it. I wanted it to be me you were so excited about.”

Clark was so close now that Bruce could hear the way his breath hitched. “Oh Bruce”, he whispered, resting his forehead against Bruce's own. “The only reason I decided to go on that date was because I thought I couldn't have you. You're the only one I want. You always have been.”

“What?” Bruce desperately searched Clark's beautiful eyes for a hint that this was real. 

“I love you, Bruce.”

An involuntary and undeniably needy sound slipped past Bruce's lips as he struggled to comprehend Clark's words and something flared up in Clark's eyes. Something hot and sharp that made Bruce's stomach flip with a mix of nerves and arousal. 

“And you love me too, don't you, B?” Clark's voice was practically a purr as he leaned even closer, his grip on Bruce shifting. One hand slid to the back of Bruce's head, burying itself in Bruce's hair, while the other wrapped around his neck. The touch was so possessive that Bruce's brain immediately kissed its higher functions goodbye. 

“I do”, croaked Bruce, already breathless as his body reacted to Clark's proximity, to the feel of his touch, his warmth and that intoxicating scent of his Bruce could never get enough of. 

Clark's answering smile was nothing short of predatory. “Good.” And then he was kissing Bruce. 

Bruce melted into the contact with a moan, instantly surrendering. Clark's hands tightened a little around Bruce's throat and in his hair and suddenly it felt like those hands were the only things keeping Bruce upright. Clark's tongue plundered his mouth and the kiss was hungry, domineering in a way Bruce didn't know Clark could be. He felt dizzy with it, overwhelmed by how utterly he was at Clark's mercy and loving every second of it. 

After a moment, Clark broke the kiss and crowded Bruce against the kitchen counter. His hands drifted to Bruce's hips, grabbing them tight and in one fluid move that stole Bruce's breath, he lifted him onto the counter. 

“God, B. You don't know how often I've dreamed about this, having you here at my mercy like this.” Clark nuzzled the side of Bruce's neck, sending shivers of want down Bruce's spine. Bruce tilted his head to give him better access and the approving sound that rumbled out of Clark's chest at that, instantly got him from half-mast to rock hard. 

“I can hear your heart racing”, murmured Clark, leaving a trail of wet kisses along Bruce's throat as his big hands landed high on Bruce's thighs, kneading and massaging them and making Bruce feel lightheaded with lust. “I can hear your blood rushing to fill your cock.”

Clark splayed his big hands, the tips of his thumbs and pointer fingers pressing against Bruce's erection. Electricity raced through Bruce's veins and he abruptly felt like he couldn't get enough air into his lungs. He couldn't quite believe what was happening, wasn't sure any of this was even real, but at the moment it didn't matter. As long as Clark kept touching and teasing him like this nothing else mattered. 

“Clark”, he moaned, pleaded, really, and finally allowed himself to touch Clark as well, to wrap his arms around those broad shoulders and hold on tight. 

“I've got you”, said Clark, low and intimate as he pushed Bruce's thighs apart to wedge his hips inbetween. Bruce's blood instantly caught fire and suddenly his clothes felt stifling, restricting. He needed them off. He wanted to feel Clark's skin, to finally touch every inch of it like he'd longed to do for years. Hands trembling with desperate need, he began to tug on Clark's stupid checkered button down shirt. 

“Off”, he growled and the first button gave way under his fumbling fingers. “I swear those fucking shirts of yours.” He pressed a kiss to Clark's throat. “They shouldn't work on anyone but somehow, whenever I see you in one of these they drive me to the edge of reason. Every. Damned. Time.”

Clark chuckled breathlessly and squeezed Bruce's thighs, sending a jolt of lust through him. “You're one to talk. Jesus, Bruce, have you seen your legs? And you always wear these tight pants. It's been driving me crazy.”

“Then do something about it, boy scout.” Bruce continued to unbutton Clark's shirt and nearly salivated at every inch of golden skin revealed. 

Clark smirked and the next thing Bruce knew a draft of cold air hit his suddenly very naked skin. “Fuck!” He gasped, arousal spiking. His clothes were folded neatly on top of the table and for some reason the sight of them, this blatant show of Clark's power, made his cock begin to leak against his naked stomach.

Grinning, Clark crowded between Bruce's legs again and the fabric of his jeans scratched along the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. Bruce's hands flew to Clark's shoulders, fisting the material. He intended to get back to working Clark's shirt open, even the score and get him naked, but then Clark's fingers were on him

On his chest, trailing over his pecs in featherlight touches, around his nipples and down his ribs, and Bruce lost the capacity for rational thought. He arched his back, pressing his skin against Clark's fingers. 

“So responsive”, murmured Clark, kissing his way down the side of Bruce's neck, scraping his teeth over the delicate skin. “Makes me want to take you apart, B.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Bruce turned his head and captured Clark's lips in a kiss. Clark groaned and crowded even closer, his clothed cock rubbing against Bruce's exposed one, probably smearing precome all over his jeans as he licked into Bruce's mouth and the image of the two of them like this was so unbearably sexy to Bruce. 

After a moment, Clark pulled back. His curls were sticking up every which way, his pupils were blown, his lips swollen and shiny with spit. He looked so beautiful, it made Bruce's heart ache. “Are you sure? We can take it slow, if you want, B. We have time.”

Frowning, Bruce grabbed the back of Clark's neck and drew him back in. “Don't you dare. I want you inside me, Clark. Now.”

Clark moaned and wrapped his arms around Bruce. “Hold on.”

Before Bruce could even fully process the words, everything around him became blurry. It stopped again just as fast and when he blinked his surroundings back into focus he found himself lying on Clark's bed, Clark hovering above him. Literally. But that wasn't what caught Bruce's attention. All of his focus was taken up by the fact that somewhere between one blink and the next Clark had gotten rid of his clothes and was now fully naked as well. All that golden, unblemished skin, the cut of his hips and those perfectly defined abs… Bruce swallowed thickly and lifted a shaky hand to follow the path of his eyes with his fingers. 

Clark shuddered, lowering himself until his body was covering Bruce's, his weight settling on top of him. They both groaned. 

“I can't believe we're actually doing this”, whispered Clark, framing Bruce's face with his hands. “I've been dreaming about this.”

Bruce's breath caught in his throat and he gently carded his fingers through Clark's hair. “Me too. I never thought I'd be lucky enough to experience this.”

Clark's gaze softened and the kiss he pressed to Bruce's lips was so unbearably tender it had tears springing to Bruce's eyes. “I love you, Bruce.”

Bruce's heart stuttered. “I love you, too”, he answered, lips brushing Clark's as he spoke. Then he grabbed a fistful of Clark's hair and tugged lightly as he spread his legs as wide as he could. “Now, I think I was promised to be thoroughly taken apart.”

Laughing breathlessly, Clark leaned back and his fond expression made Bruce squirm. “So impatient”, he said, clucking his tongue. “Maybe I should teach you a lesson and make you wait.” But even as he said that he began to slide down Bruce's body, wedging his shoulders between his spread legs. His hands slid around to Bruce's ass, lifting him up. Anticipation built in Bruce's gut and by now his cock drooled a continuous stream of precome onto his stomach. 

For a long while Clark just stared, gaze fixed hungrily on Bruce's cock, and Bruce squirmed helplessly in his grip. 

“So darn pretty”, murmured Clark and then he was diving forward, licking a long stripe up Bruce's cock, swirling his tongue around the head before kissing his way back down. Bruce shouted in surprised pleasure and arched off the bed. But Clark wasn't done. Not by long shot. He didn’t stop at the base of Bruce's cock and instead moved further south, laving attention on Bruce's balls. 

And then he moved even further down and Bruce's brain short-circuited as he stopped breathing. Clark's big hands shifted on Bruce, spreading his cheeks as he lifted his hips like it was nothing, and then his tongue was licking a broad stripe over Bruce's hole. 

Bruce's entire body twitched as if it was connected to a live wire and his heart was beating so fast he feared it might explode. The pleasure coursing through his veins as Clark licked and sucked and bit at his hole, pushing first one then two fingers inside alongside his tongue was too much for him to take. But he couldn't escape it. Clark wouldn't let him. His grip on Bruce's ass was unrelenting and Bruce was sure he'd have finger-shaped bruises there later. He was harder than he'd ever been in his life, more turned on, and if Clark didn't stop soon he'd come just from that clever mouth and fingers alone. 

“Clark”, he moaned, squirming, torn between getting away from the stimulation and grinding down into it. “I'm… If you don't stop…”, he gasped, trying to warn Clark, but if anything his attempt to get Clark to slow down had the opposite effect. Because Clark slid a third finger into Bruce, pushing them all the way in while his tongue circled around Bruce's stretched hole and then those blunt fingers found his prostate. 

Stars exploded in front of Bruce's eyes. He was distantly aware of the sob he let out, the way his back lifted off the mattress, but everything was hazy as the pleasure consumed him. When Bruce finally came back down, panting and boneless, he quickly became aware of the fact that Clark's fingers were still buried deep inside him. Clark's gaze was fixed on Bruce's face, a hungry look in his eyes. Once he noticed Bruce was back with him he held eye-contact and very deliberately crooked his fingers. Lightning shot up Bruce's spine and a high-pitched whine tore itself from his throat. 

“I want to fuck you, B. Just like this, when you're already sweaty and overstimulated. I want to make you cry.” 

A violent shudder worked its way down Bruce's spine. Clark's voice was completely shot, his mouth was bright red, spit covered his lips and cheeks and his eyes seemed almost wild with arousal. 

There was no way Bruce could deny him. 

Exhaling shakily, he reached down and tangled his fingers in Clark's hair, pulling weakly, but Clark didn't budge. “Say it, B”, he rasped. “Tell me you want me to fuck you till you cry.”

Moaning, Bruce squeezes his eyes closed. His spent cock did its best to rise again even though it was impossible for him to go again this soon. “Fuck me, Clark. Do it”, he gasped, wiggling his hips to finally get Clark to move. 

With a low curse that sent a shiver down Bruce's spine, Clark pulled his fingers free and began to crawl up Bruce's body. Bruce was still limp and sluggish as Clark slid his arms under his legs and lifted them, positioning himself at Bruce's entrance. Bruce moaned again as he felt the wet tip of Clark's cock against his hole, Clark's precome mixing with his spit as he slowly pushed his way inside. Bruce's tired body lit up at the delicious pressure and he threw his head back. It felt like forever until Clark was fully seated inside and when he finally was, Bruce's chest was heaving for air, sweat trickling down his spine as his nerves twinged and prickled with overstimulation. Clark was just so big, filling Bruce perfectly, pressing against his prostate without even trying. 

And then he started to move in earnest and Bruce's brain immediately switched offline. Each and every one of Clark's powerful thrusts hit Bruce's prostate head on, sending jolts of pleasure-pain through his entire system, robbing him of his breath and making him feel like he was drowning in it. Bruce's being narrowed down to Clark. Clark above him, surrounding him, in him… There was nothing else in existence right now. 

“Look at you, B”, panted Clark, hips picking up speed as he rocked into Bruce. “You're a mess. And you're so darn pretty like this.”

He leaned down and kissed Bruce, practically fucking his mouth with his tongue and Bruce felt like he was losing his mind. Weakly, he clawed at Clark's back, tried to hold on for the ride as Clark relentlessly forced his body towards a second orgasm. The coil of pleasure in his belly was wound steadily tighter and tears were leaking from the corners of his eyes. 

“There you are”, breathed Clark, his thrusts growing erratic, his kisses more desperate and when he slammed home one last time, filling Bruce with his hot seed, Bruce tumbled over the edge as well. He'd never had a dry orgasm before. He didn’t even know he could, and it honestly felt like only Clark could have torn the pleasure from his body in this way. 

Afterwards, Bruce's mind went dark for quite a while. He just drifted along in a cloud of exhausted satisfaction, lethargic and completely unaware of his surroundings. 

When he eventually came back to himself, he was lying on Clark's chest, wrapped up in those strong arms. He sighed in contentment and closed his eyes. “That was quite a ride, cowboy.”

Clark laughed, arms squeezing Bruce a little tighter. “What can I say? You bring out the best in me, B.”

Bruce felt himself flush and buried his face in Clark's chest. “I can't believe I actually find that charming.”

Clark began gently stroking Bruce's back. “I can't believe I'm finally allowed to have you.”

Heart stuttering in his chest, Bruce craned his neck and pressed a soft kiss to Clark's jaw. “I'm all yours.”

Clark turned his head and captured Bruce’s lips in a tender kiss. “And I'm yours.”

Smiling, Bruce settled back down. He was in the process of drifting off to sleep when Clark's voice roused him once more. “I guess that means we owe Alfred a gift basket or something.”

Bruce groaned. “They're going to be unbearably smug about this.”

Chuckling, Clark kissed the top of his head. “I'm sure I can think of a few things to make this worth it though.”

Snorting, Bruce shook his head. “You're insatiable.”

“Only for you, B. Only for you.” 

<3 <3 <3 

As it turned out, Clark's first Valentine's Day date was a smashing success. 

[spacedoutman]

𝔚𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔩?

(𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 3)

Chapter description: Gene remembered getting butterflies in his stomach for Ace even when they were best friends as children. Ace, now the pastor, still suffers from anger issues and now an alcohol problem he's trying to keep secret, just like his violent passion for Gene. When a strange figure makes its way into Gene's life, Gene starts to think Ace feels nothing for him. Can Ace say something before Gene leaves? Or will he burn down the whole town with them and possibly himself?

♥ Ace Frehley x Gene Simmons | ♥ Vinnie Vincent x Gene Simmons

Warnings:

“Well, I’ll get out of your hair now!” Vinnie chirped, pouring enthusiasm. “I’ll see you around-”

Gene shifted. “Uh, wait.” Gene mumbled. Light blasted in Vinnie’s eyes. He perked up quickly.

“What is it?” He cocked his brow. “I don’t uh.. have a schedule—really, so I have a lot of time.”

“Does he get along with other horses?”

Vinnie replied with a dramatic shrug. He pursed his lips. His eyes trailed off to the sky before he gasped sharply. He gazed back at Gene. “He’ll be ok. He just pretends to not understand. He does, trust me.” Vinnie chortled. Gene held his breath. Sweat soaked the back of his neck. Vinnie leaned over, kissing the horse’s muzzle. “Isn’t that right?” He made a baby voice. The horse stared ahead.

Anything Gene could’ve said drained like a pool. He slowly nodded. Vinnie giggled happily. His hand jutted out. His grip loosened around the reins. Gene wrapped his shaking hands around them. Vinnie dropped them. He balled up Gene’s fingers and skipped back.

“Well, I’ll see you around!” He bubbled, fixing his hat. “Have a good time, Gene! And make sure Perry knows how much I’ll miss him.”

Gene nodded.

Vinnie whipped around on his heel before skipping off. Gene leaned over, watching as Vinnie pranced down the road. The morning light . ‘Is he going to disappear yet?’ Gene thought to himself. Gene’s jaw dropped when Vinnie actually walked out of sight. His throat tightened.

Gene stood back to calm his racing heart. He clutched his chest.

Gene remembered Biscuit, his own horse. Biscuit played hop-scotch when Gene tried to saddle him or wedge himself all the way against the aged stable wall, making it creak as Gene slumped over with the hoof-pick. Yet, Perry stood, glaring straight on. Gene’s heart sank. Fifteen minutes sharp. Gene lead Perry out the door.

The birds fluttered through the vibrant blue sky; a couple clouds floated. Perry’s hooves clattered against the road like drumbeats. Gene’s eyes locked between Perry’s ears, stuck wide since he’d left. Before he could count to ten, Perry drifted down the street—at least Gene did. He glanced down, patting Perry’s shoulder when he realized he was still there.

The middle of May crept up on Gene and by now, the horse did too. Taking care of him was almost like a pet rock. It stared. Grayish purple dyed the mountains black. Gene leaned up. He sighed. His mouth dried. Gravel crunched, ringing around Gene’s skull. He clicked his mouth. Perry trotted down the path.

“Great job, Perry.” He mumbled. “… You’re.. you’re doing wonderfully.” A slight shake riddled his voice.

The snow-white house went from a stain to a palace in what felt like hours. Gene slid off Perry and tied him up. He stuck his hands in his coat. “I hope you can stay warm out here.” He murmured. Perry’s black eyes hit his. Gene’s gaze retreated. A knot formed in his throat. “I’ll be back.”

Gene turned and walked. His feet heavied. He glanced over his shoulder. Perry stared. A couple horses in the pasture behind him down the hill joined in. Gene held his breath. He sped up. His shoes clicked quietly on the cobblestone path. He climbed the polished oak stairs, his heart fluttering. A grin tugged at his lips. He skipped over and knocked.

Warm light crawled from the crack as the door eased open, only enough to stick a hand through. Gene stepped back. Ace swung it open. Lemony, savory smells whistled through Gene’s nose, spinning his brain like a lover as they waltzed. He melted. Ace smiled. He wore a dusty blue shirt. The pearl buttons glistened in the dim moonlight.

He looked Gene up and down. Gene leaned closer.

“Good seeing you.” Ace said, frowning a little. “I was actually thinking about you for awhile today, wondering when you’d drop by.” He complained?

Gene twirled his hair around his finger. Ace’s dull eyes locked on Gene’s. Gene froze, melting slowly into his shoes. Ace half-smiled.

“Yeah..” Gene’s eyes followed his lips. “Something crazy happened.”

Ace brightened up. “Oh really?!” He exclaimed. “Why don’t you tell me about it?’

Later

“And then he gave me the reins.. l-looked at me.. and told me he’d get out of my hair.” Gene counted harshly one his fingers, furrowing his brows.

A woman, running through a garden, rosy-cheeked and smiling over her shoulder met his eyes from a painting. The flowers around her matched her flowing pink dress. A man in dusty red peeked from behind a white gazebo.

Warmth enveloped Gene as Ace laid a hand on his shoulder. Gene couldn’t help but to grin. He slowly looked up. Ace smiled, patting him. “What a story.” Ace tiredly mumbled under his breath.

“I think so.” Gene said softly.

Ace sighed. He sat back, setting his hand on his chest. The velvet couch hugged them like an old friend. Ace tossed one leg over the other. He sighed a little sharply, staring at the Turkish-patterned carpet. “I’d been waiting for you all week.”

Gene’s mouth opened. His heart froze. He looked down, his eyes scanning nothing. “.. You told me you’d be busy.” He hesitated. “You never, you know, got back to me about when you’d be free.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

“Well, I’m pretty lonely, Gene. My job has never been easy. But you make it a little easier.”

Photo cred:

Note: I completely lost track of where I wanted this fic to go for a hot second but then I remembered lol also I forget a whole day went past and I forgot to update this one along with the two yesterday.

ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔡 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔞𝔬3

[practically-an-x-man]

More Jessi and/or Hyun-Ki, perhaps?

Oooooh hell yeah!!! I think I'll write something from Jessi's point of view, just to switch things up a little...

____ Picture Perfect

Word Count: 1.8k Content Warnings: heavy emotional abuse and manipulation, toxic relationship (dead dove; do not eat), physical violence, hypnosis and mind control ____

Jessi Juno could confidently say that her life was perfect.

Her name was on every social media site, each one shining with constant praise. Her new single had just hit number one on both the domestic and international charts. She was eyeing a People's Choice Award.

Thanks to her new smoothie cleanse diet, she'd lost five pounds. She was glowing. She'd flown out to Chicago last week to get her hair done by Mario Tricoci, and now it was shinier and softer than ever, her classic pop-star powder-pink. And she'd just commissioned a dress from Donatella Versace herself... perhaps to be worn when she won that People's Choice Award. She was a shoe-in for it anyway. Everybody loved her.

The media was obsessed with her relationship. Jordan Moon had proven to be the boost she needed to really put herself on the map, and all it took was a little sonic schmoozing, a well-timed papparazzo or two, and a few kissy-kissy selfies in Instagram. It was almost too easy.

She was beautiful. She was rich beyond belief. She was on her way to becoming a household name.

She was perfect.

You keep this up, you'll be bigger than Dolly Parton. Bigger than Katy Perry.

No... bigger than Taylor Swift.

Jessi scrolled through her phone, flipping through the #jessijuno tag with detached interest. It was time for her morning post. Numbers were everything. She took a sip from her green smoothie, piecing it all together in her mind. Yesterday had been a selfie, the day before had been an inspo post about her smoothie cleanse, and everything else had been promo work for her upcoming EP. It was time to switch things up.

"Jordan!" she called, and felt her power waver in the air as it left her lips, "Come join me for breakfast!"

She watched him stagger out of his bedroom - of course they slept in separate rooms, she couldn't imagine the thought of sleeping all night with his breath in her ear and his body crowding her space - and trudge dazedly in her direction.

He seemed especially dull behind the eyes this morning, and Jessi suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. That wouldn't look good on her page. People would start asking if he was on drugs, and then there would come the accusations that she was on drugs, because of course she couldn't have a body like hers without a little chemical help.

Fangirls. Ugh. They were always looking for reasons to cancel her. They were jealous of her body, jealous of her fame, jealous their heartthrob K-Pop crush was with her instead of playing into their podunk he-touched-my-hand-once fantasies. She couldn't put that drug-talk into their heads. It would be a nightmare to sort out.

Britney shaved her head, Demi had an overdose, Jessi has a junkie boyfriend.

No, thank you. She had an image to maintain.

She poured a mug of coffee and set it in front of him. Maybe that would perk him up a little.

Jordan took a few sips and muttered something in Korean. Jessi's lip curled before she could stop it. She needed to break that habit, or she'd wind up with wrinkles. Then she'd need Botox - an eventuality she was sure, but she prided herself on her natural features while she had them.

"Speak English," she hissed, "You know I can't understand that shit."

"Sorry, dear." Jordan mumbled, "What's for breakfast?"

"I made smoothies," she said, already pouring him a glass of the thick green slurry.

Jordan let out the faintest sigh but reached for the glass. He'd been in a rotten mood lately, rotten enough that she finally surrendered and bought a jar of kimchi to stick in the fridge... and tossed it out only a day later, because she couldn't stand the vinegary fermented smell. It was stinking up her fridge. He'd just have to deal with it.

While he sipped his smoothie and made a bit of an effort to rouse himself, Jessi plucked his phone off the counter and began to flick through it. She'd made him get rid of the passcode ages ago, and switch to an English interface that she could understand. American couples didn't have secrets, she said. It was so easy to bend him to her will.

Her phone had an 8-digit passcode and fingerprint ID. She didn't let him touch her phone. Of course, just a word out of her mouth and he never even thought to ask. She wondered what he thought about these days. She wondered if he was really able to think about much of anything these days, or if he was just like one of those albino lab rats who mindlessly pressed a button when the scientists dinged a bell.

It was just so much easier this way.

"You called your mom?" Jessi asked, her voice deceptively sweet. Jordan looked up, and she thought she caught a flicker of panic deep behind those dark eyes. She'd caught him.

"She called me." he mumbled. She hated when he mumbled.

"No, this is an outgoing call," she said, "It says so right here on the screen. Don't lie to me."

"It was after the concert. I just called to let her know it went well."

"Hm."

She wondered if he'd remember her phone number if she deleted it from his contacts. Maybe that would fix things.

Or maybe he'd get suspicious and she'd have to put him all the way under again, like the early days. She didn't want him to be a damn vegetable, and the lovestruck puppy act got old too fucking quickly, but then she loosened her grip and he started going behind her back like this. Maybe she needed to tighten the reins a little. He'd hardly know the difference.

"Tell me next time you call her, okay?" she said, which really meant don't call her again. Jordan just gave her a tired nod in response.

Jessi set his phone down and snatched up her own, then reached across the counter for her half-empty smoothie glass.

She leaned in close, pursed her lips around her green-and-white paper straw, smiled with her eyes, and hit the shutter button. Perfect. Jordan was looking down, hiding that dull, drugged look in his eyes, but with the way she leaned in against his shoulder it almost looked like he was laughing at something she'd said the moment before. Jessi's eyes were bright and her skin looked airbrushed, and her hair was just messy enough to appear approachable without being a rat's nest. It was... girl-next-door.

Breakfast with my sweetheart 💖, her mind autofilled, already thinking of the caption as she swiped through filters, Can't believe we've only been together 3 months! You're my everything baby😘😘

Hm. Too formal. Formal was good for promos and sponsorships, not for slice-of-life selfies like this. She decided to dress it down a little, swapping "you're" for a Y2K-chic "ur" and tagging the photo with the mummified ruins of Jordan's Instagram handle. She wished he'd post a little more often. The privacy gag was cute, and pretty convenient most of the time, but her ratings would skyrocket if he just posted a selfie once in a while.

Jessi posted the photo and watched as the likes began to trickle in. She could expect a couple thousand straightaway, but the real boom would come after an hour or two. By tomorrow she'd be seeing the selfie all over fan reels and Pinterest boards. Pictures with Jordan always blew up. People went wild for a perfect little romance.

Of course, they didn't have to know it wasn't a romance behind the scenes. She'd fawn all over him in front of the cameras, but she didn't love him. She didn't hate him, of course - even the social boost wasn't worth bleeding her precious time and energy into someone she hated. He was just... there. Pretty enough and quiet enough to tolerate. Like a kitschy Christmas ornament, she thought, or hotel room wallpaper.

The appearance was all that mattered. She'd collect her accolades, win her awards, and then she'd put her little boytoy back on the shelf when she was through with him. Nobody had to know.

Nobody had to know.

"Jordan," she said without taking her eyes off her phone, "I was thinking later we could brainstorm some new lyrics. The new EP could use just one more song, don't you think? Maybe another collab?"

"Mm-hmm," he hummed, all vague and infuriatingly noncommittal. Jessi rolled her eyes, then sipped the last of her smoothie and slid the glass across the counter.

"Wash this for me, will you? I can't get my hands in hot water with this new manicure."

Jordan stood up without complaint, leaving his coffee and smoothie abandoned on the countertop. He shuffled his way around to the sink, and behind her she heard running water as he began to wash her glass. Jessi smiled to herself. She didn't have to cook or clean. She didn't have to do anything she didn't want to do. She had a perfect, obedient, dead-eyed butler to do it all for her.

Her phone chimed, and Jessi scrolled through it as the notifications poured in. Comments, likes, mentions, keysmashes and emojis and rampant jealousy from a thousand sources. She thrived on it.

"Everybody loves me, Jordan," she chirped, throwing her head back to look at him upside-down. If he spoke at all, it was buried under the sound of running water. Jessi sighed and peeled herself back up with a frown. "Tell me you love me, Jordan."

"I love you, Jessi." he responded in a monotone. Good enough. It didn't really matter if she heard it from him anyway. She heard it from everyone else, all the time.

Her life was perfect.

Something slammed into the back of her head, and her vision went white. Jessi made a sound, a pained confused coo like a wounded dove, and felt herself begin to slide out of her seat. She tried to stand and her limbs turned to jelly.

Another brutal impact, this one joined by the wind-chime tinkling of shattered glass. Hot blood spilled from her scalp and ruined her hair, ruined her Juicy Couture tracksuit, ruined her freshly-waxed kitchen floors.

"Wh....th'fuck?" she slurred, her brain spinning around inside her skull. Dimly, she was aware that she'd hit the floor, and tried to turn herself over to look at her attacker.

He didn't look so dead-eyed now. All she could see was his face, burning with rage like she'd never seen.

He hissed something at her in a language she didn't understand, and the world spun away.

[lovevalley45]

#fictober24 - day eight

"Are we happy?"

original fiction (power payback)

word count: 605

“Geez, isn’t it supposed to be fall?” 

“Global warming,” Magni said. “And the fact that we live in a desert doesn’t help.”

Sprout joined him at the patio table, shucking off her gardening gloves. “Yeah, but I’m not moving to Connecticut or whatever.” She sighed. “You feeling better?” she asked, pouring herself a glass of lemonade. 

“I’m out of bed,” he answered. It was good enough. 

Magni’s involuntary sabbatical from Hillson Consulting had started when he realized he’d been ignoring his boss’s calls for a week. He hadn’t been feeling well, staying in bed during the day and unable to sleep at night. Sprout rightfully called him on the fact that he only left his room to make them dinner, then barely ate what he actually made. It was then that he could step back and remember this wasn’t normal.

“I need some time,” he’d told Hillson over the phone. “Just a couple of weeks.” 

“I ought to give you one week since you’ve been ghosting me. Is that what the kids call it? Ghosting?” With a huff, Hillson had finally said, “Hell, fine. You haven’t been as sharp lately. Rest up.” 

It wasn’t his first time finding himself in such a slump. But since his first bout of depression in college, he’d never dipped so low. 

“Did you call Dr. Perry?” Sprout asked him. 

“No,” he admitted. “I know, I should. But she’ll just try to prescribe me antidepressants again.”

She took a long sip of lemonade. Magni knew she was holding her tongue against telling him he was wrong, and some part of him knew she was. He’d dug his heels in then, still sore from his bad stint of suppressors. 

“I’ll call her tomorrow,” he caved. 

Sprout sighed. “Alright.” She leaned back in her seat.

“You know, you didn’t have to take time off to watch me.” 

She glanced his way. “Who said I took time off to watch you? I took a day off because I wanted to.”

Magni picked up his lemonade. “Insurance getting too boring?” 

“Yeah,” Sprout said. “When I convinced you to switch your major to criminal justice with me, I figured it’d be… more exciting. Your job is plenty exciting. But I sit in a cubicle and make sure shit adds up. I just got hired because I was good at memorizing insurance law.” 

“You could always go to law school like my mom keeps telling you,” he said. “And consulting isn’t that exciting, anyways. Not when I get pinged with ‘hey Magni, use your technopathy for this case’ every damn day. I’m stuck in a damn cube and feel like a zombie walking out.”

The complaints spilled out of him like a confession. No wonder he was so drained. His throat suddenly felt dry, and he picked up his lemonade.  

“Wow.” She drummed her fingers against her glass. "Do you ever wonder… are we happy? Like, really happy. We've got good jobs, but-" She stopped, and shrugged. 

Magni chuckled. "Yeah. I know." He shut his eyes. The warmth of the day still seemed so heavy in the afternoon shade. "I remember that conversation. Obviously. We had dreams that we'd try and get our PI licenses and go into business together." 

"We still can," Sprout said. "We're still young. You know, study together, do the exam." 

"Come on. Be real. We were just college kids, fantasizing about the future." 

She leaned over the table, grabbing his hand. "We can try."  

"Hell." He turned his hand to give hers a squeeze, feeling the scars against his palm. "I guess it won't kill me." 

Sprout grinned. "Famous last words."

[primevein]

The Prime of His Youth: Book V: Where There's Smoke: Ch41: Spider's Embrace

Japheth walked onto Orion's bridge. "I've had Orion for a decacycle, and never once even sat on his couches, and it still feels like home."

"Thank you." Orion's great voice bellowed.

"You are welcome." Japheth bellowed in reply. He walked over to Magnus' tiny desk, on a gantry that ran into the back wall.

"My Prime." Magnus greeted him.

"Your lord." Japheth replied.

"Are you prepared for the report?" Magnus asked.

"Or a summary." Japheth neutrally voiced.

"All crew that wished to join the Orion have joined and been quartered. We are too understaffed to use most of the facilities, and so all Human-support facilities were left aboard the Ion."

"Let me guess, I got the Wreckers?" Japheth asked.

"All of them." Magnus replied.

"Nebulous is keeping Captain Dodge."

"Two for two." Magnus replied.

"Sif, and Tethys. Gella, Overland, and Angle Drive. Sundance, Knockout, Ratchet. Colossus I'm not sure about."

"With you." Magnus stated, "You have definitely made an impression on him. And even if you had not, you intend to find the lost colonies. Gella has given the report, and our calculators are thousands of fold stronger than the ones you used before. They are already calculating the location of other colonies."

"And, the Humans?"

"About 2/3rds." Magnus simply stated. "You got the more high minded and scientific. Nebulous got the more adventurous."

"Stormwright?" Japheth asked.

"Mr. Perry is quite adventurous."

"Right." Japheth stated, "I'm guessing Eurawind and Zephawind also stayed."

"Correct." he replied, and Japheth sighed. "You want to make for Caminus?"

Japheth looked at him excitedly, and nodded.

* * *

Megatronus walked into Soundwave's laboratory. "We surrender." He stated, and Soundwave turned to stare at Him. "Unless you have good news."

Soundwave looked at the monitor and then back to Him, and then back at the monitor. Megatronus walked over and looked at the monitor. It was a list of names. Over half of the names were red, with a good number of them black.

"He's gone through my ranks far faster than Optimus ever could. We might get a chance, but I doubt it. So, for now, we head to Darkmont, to rebuild." Soundwave looked him in the eyes. "He - allows us to. We need to be thankful for small blessings. Make no mistake, we will have an army, maybe one to rival any in Cybertornian history. But, that's all we'll have."

* * *

The warp gate closed behind Orion, and he fired his thrusters to aim for Caminus. The astronauts gave him information for orbital insertion, and he changed course to match.

* * *

The comm. link closed as Japheth sat on his couch, looking at his Femmes. He sighed from tranquility. "Unfortunately, or fortunately, considering how much you aren't fond of being home, the Rust Maidens will stay with Orion, until we get some flyers to run close protection. It shouldn't take long."

"That confident, are we?" Arcee lovingly asked as she walked up.

"What happened last time?" Japheth asked.

"Not quite everyone wanted to come?" Arcee chided. She snuggled into the seat beside Him.

"But," Arcelia asked as she stepped up, Sirenia wanting to join the conversation behind her, "last time there was a practical limit to how many you could take?"

"And now, we could probably take every - single - one." Japheth uttered. He looked at Sirenia, and knew what she wanted to say, "What about the beggars on Cybertron?" She eagerly nodded, "I honestly didn't think about it until I sat on this couch." He groaned. Arcee looked disappointed as he let go, and stood up. "Everyone, weapons at the ready, twins be ready to transform at a moment's notice." They all quickly rushed in to him. "Arcelia, call my spiders."

* * *

The doors opened. Japheth lightly stepped out, as the Rust Maidens quickly spread out. Arcee stayed right behind him. The twins held their auto-blasters as Jumpstream and Dust Up held their sword and hammer, respectively. Pyra Magna stepped the furthest away, and drew her stream blaster.

They all turned their heads as the spiders crawled down from above them. Most of the Rust Maidens looked nervous. The twins were eager to get into the air.

"So, are we just going to?.." Arcee asked, only to be cut off by Japheth.

"Get - down - here!" he angrily bellowed. The two descended on lines, transforming into a landing before him.

"Yes, My Prime." Airachnid taunted.

"My Queen." Charon said, and Japheth glared at them. His eyes moved from one to the other and then back again. Airachnid half-turned away, only to have a number of blasters pointed at her. She looked between everyone present before giving Japheth an entreating look.

His tension released, and He momentarily closed His eyes. When He opened them He said two words, "Stand down."

The Rust Maidens all slowly lowered their weapons.

"What - the scrap - was that?" Charon asked.

"Oh, haven't you figured it out?" Airachnid asked, and Charon glared at her, "Our lovely leader can read our Sparks."

"And?" Charon asked.

"You have been out of touch, in your little underground world."

"Slag-off." Charon replied. "If I'm being judged, someone want to tell me why?"

"Is she serious?" Dust Up asked.

"She is." Japheth calmly said. "What happened is that Megatron has returned."

"And upgraded." Pyra Magna neutrally added. "He was afraid your loyalities might have changed."

"Slag off." Charon stated, "I've NEVER been loyal to Megatron. Your computer has taught me a new word, he's a douche."

"Then why the scrap were you a 'Con?" Arcee sharply asked her.

Charon just shrugged.

"Knockout and Shockwave were Decepticons." Japheth uttered, "For the science."

"Depends on how mad you like your science." Arcee sardonically added.

"There was an amnesty." Pyra Magna uttered, and the spiders looked at her with confusion.

"Then why the fuck didn't you?.." Charon asked.

"Because none of the others would have listened." Japheth said with finality, and a stark silence followed. He looked back to Charon, "You're alive because you are..."

"Morally flexible." she said wickedly.

"I think that only works in the bad direction." Japheth uttered.

"Morally pliable?" Pyra Magna asked. Arcee looked at her, seeming to like it.

"To be honest." Jumpstream stated, "The right form of morality is doing what Japheth tells us."

Japheth sighed.

"What's wrong?" Dust Up asked.

"I kind of hoped for more from you." Japheth stated.

"More?" Dust Up asked, "Having better morals than JAPHETH FUCKING PRIME?!"

"When you put it like that..." Japheth said, and gave Arcee a curious look.

"Oh, scrap." she stated, "What? What I wanted was to spend my life with you. The rest is, you know?" she asked, and shrugged.

"Like you'd want to do anything else." Pyra Magna chided.

"I did try and be a housewife." Arcee stated.

"We can cook in Dollform." Pyra Magna neutrally stated.

"Before... I knew we could..." Arcee replied.

"Oh, right." Pyra Magna replied.

"I love you all." Japheth said, looking between everyone.

"What about us?" Charon asked, and Japheth glared at them. He looked between them a couple of times before focusing on Airachnid, "If she wants in, she needs a new name. Muffet?"

"What kind of name is Muffet?" Airachnid asked.

"She sat on a tuffet." Arcelia neutrally stated from just inside the master's suite, and Sirenia had to struggle to not laugh.

"What's a tuffet?" Airachnid asked.

"A small, fluffy stool." Sirenia said, struggling to not laugh.

"Eating her curds and whey." Arcelia added.

"Okay, now I know you are just making words up." Airachnid said accusingly.

"Jokes aside, the name is Irish." Arcelia finished. "Roise, Irish for Rose. Could be anglicized as R-o-y-c-e."

Japheth gave Airachnid a curious look before looking at Arcee, "Don't look at me like that." Arcee pleaded.

"Like I could take anyone that you didn't..." Japheth tried to say.

"I made my peace with it when you painted her pink." Arcee uttered.

Japheth then looked at Airachnid, "You've earned your headpats, did you want to try for even more Human intimacy."

"I would finally be let into your little harem?" Airachnid asked herself.

"If!" Arcee shouted, "You pledge your Spark to His, until death do you part."

"And," she said, and paused, "He would promise the same thing?"

"Assuming I never have to kill you." Japheth said to her.

"Taking the Until Death part rather literally." Airachnid said pensively. "To be fair, I never knew what I wanted, but this," she said, looking at the master suite longingly, "is everything I ever wanted."

"Fine." Arcee grumbled, "But I'm the queen, and you have to do as I say?"

"Or what?" Royce asked, "You'll spank me?"

Arcee just glared at her. Japheth instead looked to Charon.

"The rest of my life?" Charon asked.

"Or his." Arcelia said, and Japheth glared at her. It suddenly occured to Arcelia what that would mean, and she started to nervously, shyly look about.

"And what do I get out of this?" Charon asked.

"Headpats and butt smacks." Arcee stated.

"Intimacy greater than you could ever imagine." Pyra Magna added.

Charon looked between the eyes of everyone present, and saw love such she had never seen. "If this is not as good as everyone is making it out to be, I reserve the right to complain for the rest - of - my - life."

"Join the club." Arcee sardonically added.

[crinkled-emotions]

Day 15: Meeting the parents (and it goes... badly)

We are seven days late to the party but who cares? Fuck it!

Ship: Floydsin

Warnings: n/a?

Following the same "Rhett and Bob are twins storyline"

-

“You kiss your mom with that mouth, Bobby?”

“I can think of a couple other things I could kiss-“

“Fuck, that’s hot.”

The doorbell echoed into the living room, interrupting the playful banter. Bob groaned, patting Hangman’s thigh to untangle them.

“Let me up, I’m hoping it’s my Amazon order.”

“But- Mario Kart? I might actually win this time.”

Bob rolled his eyes, planting a kiss to his boyfriend’s forehead.

“I appreciate the enthusiasm but I don’t think that’s ever gonna happen.”

“But- ow?”

Bob jogged into the hallway when the doorbell rang again, checking the camera. His eyebrows raised.

“What the fuck?”

“Everythin’ alright?”

Jake rounded the corner to join him in the doorway but Bob put his hands on his chest, gesturing for him to go upstairs.

“My parents are here. Go upstairs.”

Jake protested, eyes darting over Bob’s face to figure out what was going on. His eyebrows furrowed and he eventually went upstairs. The doorbell rang a third time and Bob took a deep breath before opening the door.

“Mom... dad?”

-

Bob watched his parents come through the front door, eyes wide as they took a look around his house.

“I thought you guys were in Colorado lookin’ for Perry?”

His mom gently tapped his cheek as she walked through with her suitcase, his father looking around.

“Flights got cancelled back to Montana so we rebooked to come see you.”

“Of course you did.”

“What a... large place, Robert. Do you have a roommate?”

Bob took a deep breath. Then, he saw the loophole.

“Oh- uh, yeah. Jake’s upstairs, he just came home from a workout so he’s in the shower.”

Upstairs, the water started running. Bob breathed a sigh of relief- he could count on Jake to eavesdrop at any given opportunity.

“Well; are you going to give us the tour?”

“Oh, yeah! Uh, this is the living room...”

He led them around the ground floor of his house, showing them the bathroom and kitchen as well as the tiny room he used as an office. When they went to go upstairs he held out a finger to them.

“I’m just gonna see where Jake is; I don’t want to put him out.”

“Of course,” his father agreed. Bob turned and fled up the stairs, running into Jake in the hallway. He was only just leaving the bathroom, only wearing the towel around his hips and his hair was damp.

“They think you’re my roommate,” Bob filled him in, “grab some of my clothes and go into the spare room. I’ll knock in a minute.”

Jake’s brows furrowed together and he leaned in to squeeze Bob’s arm.

“Are you... out?” He whispered. Bob shook his head.

“I’ll tell you about it later. Just... go along with me, okay?”

With a quick glance over his shoulder he pressed a chaste kiss to his boyfriend’s lips then ducked into his room to tidy up. Jake grabbed a change of clothes from the dresser, thankful he’d started leaving things behind months ago. Bob quickly fixed his sheets, tossing the comforter back on as an afterthought, then tossed anything suggesting sexual activity into the nightstand drawer which he could lock. As a final thought, he grabbed Jake’s phone charger from the other side of the bed and put it into a dresser drawer- he’d give it back to him later. Finally, he went back to the base of the stairs.

“He’s just gettin’ dressed, he’ll be ready in a minute. Uh, so, this is my room...”

Bob opened his bedroom door to his parents who took a look around. His mom turned to him, frowning.

“It’s very... plain.”

“It’s base housing, mom, we’re typically not here very long or very often.”

He kept the fact he was going to be here for the next five years to himself; he’d already put in an offer on a house about half an hour from base. Jake wasn’t ready to go in on it with him but he was supportive of the offer.

“Of course,” she hummed. Hangman took that moment to appear, flicking his hair out before leaning on the doorway.

“Heard there were some visitors I had to come and see. Mr and Mrs Floyd, it’s so great to finally meet you.”

“Mr and Mrs Abbott, actually. And you are...?”

“Lieutenant Jake Seresin, sir. I work with Bobby.”

Jake’s eyes subtly darted to Bob, but he quickly turned on the thousand-watt smile everyone loved to shake his parents’ hands. Bob’s mother looked between them, clearing her throat.

“Rhett couldn’t come; he and Hadley are in Australia for a month.”

“Smart,” Bob muttered under his breath.

“Bobby?”

Bob’s father had finally come back to his senses, gaze darting between the two men. Jake sent Bob an apologetic look, clearing his throat.

“Your son’s the youngest on our team; our teammate Rooster gave him the nickname. It’s kinda a rite of passage with us.”

“And what’s your nickname?”

“Bagman,” Bob blurted out, unwilling to give up the nickname he called Jake when no one else was around, “his callsign is Hangman so we usually have variations. We call Rooster Roo a majority of the time.”

He knew how much Jake hated that nickname when it wasn’t used in a jovial context by himself or Phoenix, but it was the first thing that came to mind. He watched Jake’s green eyes sadden and he gently rapped his knuckles on the door frame.

“So, y’all are in luck; me and Bobb- uh, Robert- can share his room if y’all want to stay here. Hotels are expensive, it’s not worth it and the sofa isn’t exactly comfortable. My room is clean, please feel free to use it.”

“Thanks, Jake, but uh-“

“-that would be great, thank you Jake.”

Mrs Abbott cut Bob off, glancing over her shoulder at her husband.

“Royal, could you go get the cases?”

“Let me.”

Jake sent one last look at Bob before going downstairs with Royal. Bob’s mother rounded on him.

“It’s been ten years and you haven’t even given me a hug,” she said. Bob winced.

“M’sorry, mama. C’mere.”

He pulled her into a hug, shoulders relaxing.

“I’m sorry you had to find out about Perry and Amy through Rhett,” she whispered. He cleared his throat.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Of course you don’t.”

She stepped away, glancing over her shoulder when she heard footsteps coming back upstairs.

-

The rest of the day was awkward, dinner even more so. Usually Jake and Bob sat together and talked about their days, but they sat at opposite ends of the table and mostly kept the conversation to the ranch or work queries. Bob’s mother was eager to meet Maverick but Bob told her he and Rooster were on a road trip; it was a long story and it wasn’t his to tell. By the time nine pm rolled around Bob was looking forward to going to bed and his parents politely excused themselves to Jake’s room to go to bed. Once the door closed upstairs Jake rounded on Bob.

“What the fuck is goin’ on?”

“What do you mean?”

They moved into the kitchen to fall into their usual nightly dishes routine; Bob rinsed the dishes then handed them to Jake to put into the dishwasher. With the noise coming from that they could talk without worrying about being overheard.

“You’re not out to your parents?”

“Are you?” Bob snapped. Jake sighed.

“That’s not what we’re talkin’ about. Bobby... your parents don’t even share a last name with you- and Mav and Roos are on a roadtrip? Maybe out to Mav’s place but they’d be back by now.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You told Phoenix, why can’t you tell me?”

Bob whirled around, eyes wide.

“How do you know I told Phoenix?”

“When Rhett and Hadley were here she told me to stay close because she was worried about you. I got the hint.”

Bob hummed.

“Right. Sure.”

Jake wiped his hands on the nearest dishtowel and approached him, hands going to Bob’s hips.

“Look,” he whispered, “I can tell this is stressing you out, and you don’t have to tell me if it’s going to make it worse. All I want to do is know what I can do to help.”

Bob checked over Jake’s shoulder for any hints his parents were coming downstairs before he stepped into Jake’s arms, placing his forehead on his shoulder.

“I have no idea why they thought it was a good idea to show up on my doorstep after ten years, and I don’t know that I want them here, but... I have to try, right? I’m the black sheep and that’s saying a lot because Rhett has always been a close second.”

“If you don’t want to try there is nothing wrong with that. Say the word and I’ll pay for their tickets back to Montana.”

Bob smiled into Jake’s shirt, turning to press a kiss to his neck.

“I know.”

Jake squeezed his back, gesturing to the dishes.

“C’mon, let’s finish up and go to bed.”

-

Jake stirred to their alarm going off at six, glancing over to find Bob already up and dressed.

“Oh, c’mon. No good morning kiss?” He deadpanned. Bob rolled his eyes, crouching by the bed to do as requested.

“M’goin’ to talk to Tasha. I’ll see you at work.”

“Hey.”

Jake shifted, catching Bob’s hand at the last second.

“I love you.”

That made the wizzo soften and he brushed a hand over his boyfriend’s back.

“Love you too. Brush your teeth, you were snoring last night.”

“You were talkin!”

The pair separated, laughing as Bob left the room and Jake started his morning routine.

Mrs Abbott was in the kitchen when Jake made his way downstairs dressed for base, making him pause.

“Good mornin’, ma’am,” he said tentatively. She glanced over her shoulder, sipping on her coffee.

“Good morning, Jake- please, call me Cece.”

“Okay... Cece. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you. Still on ranch time, I guess. Has Bob already left?”

“Yeah, he was going to meet his pilot for a meeting.”

He made his way over to the coffee machine, starting it before ducking into the fridge to find the cream cheese for his bagel. Cece watched him for a moment, quiet.

“Where are you from, Jake?” She asked.

“Texas, born and raised.”

“Can I ask when you last spoke to your family?”

Jake frowned.

“It would be almost fifteen years. They weren’t supportive growing up and that continued when I told them what I wanted to do career wise. They thought I should have stayed on the ranch.”

“I always thought Robert would leave. He didn’t like that life.”

“He fits in here; ma’am, your son is one of the best wizzos I have ever seen.”

“I appreciate that.”

They stood in silence while Jake waited for his bagel to pop up from the toaster. When it finally did he smothered it in cream cheese and checked the time on his phone.

“Damn, I’m gonna be late. Uh- look, I’m gonna leave my house key on the entryway table, please feel free to come and go as y’all please.”

He grabbed the bagel and chewed it as he headed for the door, grabbing his truck keys and slipping out the front door.

-

Bob flopped into his seat beside Phoenix in the classroom and she passed over his coffee, nudging his side.

“Thanks for telling me all that this morning. If you need anything let me know, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Hangman chose that moment to stride into the classroom, cocky smile at the ready. He easily slid into his seat, flicking his notebook open. Coyote nudged him and they put their heads together, whispering for a moment before Maverick came into the room with the rest of the Daggers. He went to start his lecture but he paused when he saw Jake and Bob.

“Oh no; trouble in paradise?”

“No sir,” they both called back. Maverick shrugged.

“Alright then. Today we’re going to be doing flight simulations...”

The team settled in for the rest of the day, everything else to the back of their minds. Bob glanced over at Hangman briefly but when he didn’t get eye contact he put his head down and focused on taking notes.

“Did you two break up?”

“Rooster, you’re the last person I’d tell if that was the case.”

Rooster frowned as he jogged to catch up with Hangman, falling into step with him.

“C’mon, man, what’s going on?”

Hangman glanced around, before he leaned into Rooster.

“He called me Bagman.”

“He... always calls you Bagman?”

“It was the way he said it, Rooster, in front of his folks.”

“Y’know, I don’t think I’m the one to be offering any kind of advice regarding parents considering mine are not on Earth, but uh... have you talked to Bob about it?”

“Can’t,” Jake frowned, teeth clenched, “his parents are staying with him and he’s... it’s complicated.”

“I know,” Rooster reassured, “and I get it, trust me I do.”

Hangman shook his head, gesturing to the locker room they were coming up to.

“Gonna take a leak, go see what the others are doing.”

Rooster kept going and Hangman stepped into the locker room, heading for his locker. As he opened it he heard footsteps and whirled around only to come face to face with his boyfriend.

“Hey.”

“Hi... look, about yesterday-“

“-it’s... fine.”

“It’s not, and I’m sorry.”

Jake hummed.

“It was shitty. You know I don’t mind you saying it but I don’t like it used as an insult against me, especially not from you.”

Bob cleared his throat.

“I’m scared... to tell them.”

“I wouldn’t ever pressure you, especially if you feel like you’re not safe. Just remember that you haven’t talked to them in ten years. A lot can change in that time.”

Bob ran a hand through his hair, then pulled his boyfriend into a hug.

“I want to tell them all about you, please believe me when I say that.”

“I do.”

-

Coming home separately was strange and it really put Jake out. He had his own base housing but if he was honest with himself he spent more time at Bob’s. It was just where they were happiest and they often drove to and from work together. Pulling into the driveway he spotted Bob’s truck already parked and headed inside. His parents were sitting on the couch, looking at some document, and Bob was standing by the entrance to the living room with his arms crossed.

“Mom, dad, I told you, I can’t leave work to find Amy with you. I have to be here.”

“She has to be somewhere, Robert, she can’t just disappear! We came here because we hoped you would come to your senses and help your family-“

Bob sucked in a breath and Jake saw a blush cover his cheeks.

“You left us high and dry once; the least you could do is help us find your niece, or come home and help me with the ranch.”

Jake’s eyes darted to Bob, who sniffed at his father’s harsh words. Finally, Jake had had enough.

“Alright, y’all need to get some fuckin’ perspective,” he started. Bob looked to him in alarm but Mr Abbott was already standing.

“What did you just say to me?”

“You don’t talk to your son for ten years and then show up because you need him for something? You know he almost died last year, right?”

“This is a family matter, Mr Seresin; I suggest you leave us to it.”

“Mr Abbott, all due respect, I am family. I’m Bobby’s family.”

“The Navy teach you that? You go on a mission together and then you’re family, or were you so desperate for a family that you-“

“-enough!”

Bob stepped in front of Jake, glancing over his shoulder to check on him before he gestured to the door.

“Go and get your shit, I’ll pay for your hotel room tonight.”

Jake felt his stomach sink, but Bob was staring directly at his parents.

“I didn’t even invite you here, and I don’t remember you guys ever asking me if I was alright.”

“Robert-“

“-it’s Bob! It’s Bob, or Bobby, or Baby on Board. I can’t remember the last time I introduced myself as Robert. God, will you just get lost already?”

“I won’t take you talking to me like this-“

Cece put her hand on her husband’s, meeting his eyes.

“We should go. Robert- Bob- he’s happy here.”

“He should have never left in the first place,” Mr Abbott complained. Jake opened the front door.

“You have thirty seconds to go upstairs and gather your shit, Mr Abbott,” he warned, “before I throw it on the lawn and call the cops for trespassing.”

“You can’t do that!” Mr Abbott exclaimed. Bob reached behind himself and pulled Jake into his back.

“Actually, he can, and I want him to.”

“Bobby-“

“-no. I want you here.”

Jake’s eyes were soft when they glanced toward Bob, but he seemed to switch into more of his Hangman persona when he flicked back to Bob’s parents.

“Think y’all should be goin’ now.”

Mr Abbott headed upstairs to get the suitcases and Cece quietly headed to grab the car keys for their rental. She didn’t say a word to Bob or Jake as she passed, head down. Jake kept his hand on Bob’s back, standing behind him in solidarity.

“Well,” he muttered quietly, “that was fucked up.”

“Shush,” Bob hissed, elbowing him in the ribs. He grabbed his wallet and pulled out a couple bills, nudging Jake.

“I’ll be right back, just gonna give them some cash and make sure their flights are booked.”

He opened another drawer and pulled out an envelope, making Jake’s eyebrows raise.

“Do you have cash everywhere?”

“Uh, yeah? I like to keep cash, just in case.”

“Nerd.”

Bob rolled his eyes but he pressed a kiss to Jake’s temple before he went outside.

-

With both Bob’s parents finally gone the couple reunited in the living room, flopping on to the couch in the early evening sunset. Bob pulled Jake’s legs into his lap, massaging his calves.

“You didn’t have to stand up for me, but I appreciate it. No one’s stood up for me to them before.”

“I’m sorry I-“

“-don’t apologise. We’re okay. I love you.”

Jake reached out, taking his hand.

“Rematch? We never finished our game yesterday.”

“Yeah, okay. C’mon, let’s do it... JJ.”

-

[yourimagines]

Anything mike perry

Let’s take a run

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Triggers: Swearing and fluff

Y/N POV

“Babe?” Mike walked in our bedroom where I was, laying in our bed. “Yes?” He chuckles and shook his head. “Are you still in bed? Babe is already 10 am.” I shrugged my shoulders and turned around. “Don’t care, I’m tired.” “Yeah because you lay here in bed, come on.” He grabbed my blanket and pulled it off me. “Mike!” I groaned and pouted at him. “No…come on babe let’s get moving.” I sighed and stood up. “You are no fun.” “I know.” He threw me my gym clothes. “Come let’s go out for a run.” “No I’m not doing that.” “Why not.” “Because I’m hungry Mike, I want to eat first before I’m going to do anything else.” I grabbed my hoodie and throw it on. He laughs and nods. “Okay fine, a light meal and then we go out for a run.” I groaned and followed him. “Come on babe, just me and you.” He placed a kiss on my temple and filled a bowl with yogurt and blueberries. “Here, eat.” “Thanks.”

We were running outside through our neighbourhood. He was talking to me as I tried to focus on my breathing. “Weather is also good for a swim.” I just nodded. “But don’t worry I’m not in the mood for a swim today.” He checked his watch, probably the time or the distance we’ve been running. “Don’t forget to drink water babe.” I nodded and took a sip from my bottle. “You really need to get a routine in your life, it’s way more healthier.” We turned to the left. “Luckily you have me.” He proudly smiled as I started to feel tired. “I’m tired Mike.” “I see but we need to run further, you can’t stop yet.” “When do we stop then?” A sharp pain erupted the side of my stomach. “At that restaurant.” He pointed at a restaurant on the other side of the road. I nodded and tried to ignore the pain. “Almost babe, keep going.” I was speeding up my pace, I wanted to be done, to have a break. “Well done.” I immediately rested my hands on my knees as I was panting. “Really good run today.” He rubbed my back as I was trying to control my breathing again. “Let’s get some food okay?” I looked up at him, he looked chill, only a sweaty forehead. “Okay.” I stood back up and followed him inside.

I was laying on our sofa, totally drained from our run. “Babe? I’m going in the jacuzzi, you wanna join?” He wiggled with his eyebrows. “Sure.” I got up and followed him to our private hot tub. He was stripping down his clothes and got in bare naked. “Come on.” I did the same and slowly entered the warm water. I let out a moan and Mike grabbed my waist, pulling me close to him. “It’s relaxing right?” I nodded and leaned back against his chest. He rested his head on my shoulder. His hands moved up to my shoulder blades, massaging them. I closed my eyes and totally relaxed under his touch. “I’m here for you babe, I know you have a rough time.” He planted a few kisses on my neck. “It’s okay to feel sad but I rather see you happy, I’m going to make you feel happy again.” His hands went up and massaged my neck and shoulders. “Mike, I love you.” “I love you babe.” He massaged my whole back, my legs , my feet, everything what needed a little bit of love…he did it.