#really didn't think anything would come from this...

[bippiti]

CAUSE I'M A PUNK ROCKER - c. kent

synopsis you moved to smallville because you had to save your family's farm. it was a place you never wanted to stay but also one you couldn't escape. then you met him: quiet, steady, and the one person who saw through your walls. slowly, without warning he became the part of you you didn't even know you were missing

a.n my longest fic to date. there will be a part 2 cause i didn't wanna make it too long. this part spans reader and clark relationship from childhood to late teens (ends with them just starting uni), reader will be a punk rock musician in the next part. also wrote the song lyrics myself so sorry if they're cringe lol not betaread

wc 10.2k (ik it's long but give it a chance!)

heads up slow burn, porn with plot, bestfriend clark, no use of y/n, reader is female, they get into a fight but they get over it, lana lang and peter ross are mentioned but their personalities are completely my own creation. clark is a munch, mutual loss of virginity, fingering, p in v, unprotected (wrap it b4 you tap it), mentions of car crashes, reader and clark are a audhd duo

You loved Blüdhaven. It was where you were born, where you’d been raised. The only time you ever spent outside of it was when you were visiting your grandparents in the summer. There was never much to do, but making friends with the cows and watching your grandma knit were admittedly things you liked doing. In moderation of course, 3 weeks out of the year in slow living was all you could handle. 

Blüdhaven had loads to do, there were always events going on, concerts happening, new exhibits at the museum. Your class field trips were anything but boring, and you loved going on little adventures or “side quests” as you liked to call them with your friends. On the last day of school, you even got to have a water balloon fight after field day. You had walked home soaking wet but happy, smiling from ear to ear. 

That smile quickly dropped when you saw the look on your parents' faces. Your mom had ushered you into the shower, bringing you neatly folded clothes and resting them on the countertop before telling you to come back to the living room once you were done. 

As the steam curled around the patterned tiles, your thoughts ran wild with what they had to tell you. 

Had they found out you had helped Amelia cheat during the math exam in April? Had your teachers told them you had accidentally dropped the paint in art class a few weeks ago? They had said you weren’t in any trouble though, that couldn’t be it.

You pondered like this for a few more minutes before your heart sunk into your stomach.

Your library book

It sat under your bed, mockingly collecting dust. It was 4 weeks overdue yesterday. You had been meaning to give it back, but you had accidentally tore the spine away from the pages after reading a particularly angering scene. Great. You were really in for it now. 

Before you could think too much about what exactly your punishment would be, your mothers yelling pulled you out of your trance. Twisting the knob, the water came to a halt as you dried yourself off before changing into the clothes your mom had picked out. The pajamas were soft, but offered little comfort to your now terrified mind.

Carefully padding down the stairs, you sat in the chair across from the sofa, looking at the floor dejectedly before opening your mouth to apolgize. Your parents speak before you can.

“Sweetheart, we have some important news to tell you”

Your shoulders immediately relax, realizing that this isn’t going to be a lecture. But something about your dads tone has you nervous. What could be so important that they had to sit you down?

Pausing for a beat, he continues.

“So you know how we were planning on not going to the farm this summer? We were gonna have you go to that summer camp with your friends instead”

You nodded as he began again

“Well, Grandma and Grandpa have been having a hard time taking care of everything on the farm, you know they’re getting older. It’s hard to keep up with all the animals and crops when you’re our age let alone theirs”  He moves forward slightly, linking his fingers together. “Grandpa had a scare yesterday, he almost fell while getting off the baler. He called us asking if we could come stay there with them.” He stops speaking for a moment. 

You’re confused, and pretty upset. You go to the farm every summer, this is the only time in your 9 years of living that you’ve ever asked to stay back. Your best friends were going to Camp Ivy, you had asked months before and now you were going to have to go to that stupid farm again while all of them had fun. Without you.

Great, just great.

Digging your nails into your palm, you stiffen a little as your mother continues where he left off.

“We said yes, but we aren’t just going to be staying for the summer, we’re moving there permanently”

Your heart stops for a moment. You’re genuinely at a loss for words. Your mother reaches out her hand, to comfort you, you think. But you quickly move back, the tears you were holding back move freely as you get up and run into your room. You let your body hit the bed, crawling under the covers as you put your pillow over your head to muffle your crying. 

Your life is officially over. All of your friends, your teachers, everyone you know was going to forget about you while you’re stuck in the middle of nowhere, Kansas.  Great. Just great. You wake up the next day and on your way to the bathroom catch sight of the outfit you had worn yesterday, you had been so happy when you had gotten home and now you were just like the shirt. Crumpled up, dirty, and in desperate need of a wash.

Your parents had given you space, but within the next few days you had already begun to pack. Your whole life soon was boxed away and put into a truck as you got in the car. It would take 2 days to get to Smallville.

In all honesty it doesn’t fully even set in that you're moving, your mind warps it into being just another summer trip. But for some reason, the minute your head hits the hotel pillows in Indianapolis it really hits you.

In all honesty, you should’ve seen it coming. For a while now they had been talking about moving (they didn’t know that you’d heard them of course, it was always after bedtime). Also Grandma and Grandpa needed help, they were strong but even you couldn’t do all that work on your own. Even though you were upset you were leaving everything you knew behind, you would rather do that than make your parents stay unhappy and your grandparents stay overwhelmed. Sighing, you let yourself sink further into the pillow, closing your eyes as you drift off to sleep.

The next day is spent the same. Staring off out the window. You had tried to read, but your motion sickness forbade it, feeling nauseous before you could even turn a page. As you watched the sky darken and rain begin to come down, you let yourself day dream about what you would be like if you were a character in the book. Maybe even the main character. It was fun, and as you got lost in the scenario the sun slowly moved further west, gently hiding as it fell past the horizon. 

It’s late when you reach the farm, your eyes open after what feels like hours as you stretch softly. Your mom opens the backseat door, and you get out. The air is refreshing, warmer than you remember it being, but comforting nontheless. Your grandparents are already asleep as you quietly open the door. Your things would arrive tomorrow, the movers had said they’d arrive sometime between 8am and noon.  

The house, like the farm it resided on, was massive, to you at least. Out of the 5 bedrooms of the house, you had your own special one, decorated mostly with things your grandma had crotched or knitted. 

You let your backpack hit the floor as you took a shower to get the long car ride off your body. After changing you stayed up to finish the last few chapters of your book. 

-

The next few weeks weren’t like anything you had expected, The fomo of not going to summer camp and the harsh reality that you wouldn’t be going back to Blüdhaven really set in, and you struggled to do much more than lounge around on the couch all day. Even the animals could feel the resentment you had. The last time you tried hanging out with the cows, they had basically run off. 

You spent most of the day either watching old black and white films with grandpa, watching grandma knit, or reading. You had been evicted out of your room after you had been “in there too much” according to mom. 

Now you would read sitting in the cornfields. At first it was kinda scary because they were tall and when they moved it almost sounded like someone was behind you, but you got used to it. May was ending and you were feeling more miserable than ever, so it didn’t really come as a surprise to you that your parents were sitting you down in the kitchen later that morning. 

You were having a staring contest with the gingham tablecloth as your parents went on and on about how they were “concerned for you” and how you “needed to make more friends” honestly, did they expect you to just forget about all the ones back home? Making new friends now would be accepting the fact that they weren’t going to be your friends anymore. The thought of that made your eyes sting and before you could even think about it you abruptly stood up, tearing your eyes away from the cloth as your palms made an echoing thwack sound as they hit the table. 

Before your parents could open their mouths, you turned around and ran, the door shut loudly as you ran. You winced, you hadn’t meant to be so rude but you couldn’t help it. You had obsiously been upset, they hadn’t even thought about what it would mean, making new friends. The tears flowed freely down your cheeks as your arms pushed against the neverending cornstalk. You didn’t know where you were planning on going, but you knew for a fact you couldn’t stay on the farm. They’d come looking for you, and the last thing you wanted was your parents to look at you with the eyes they’ve been giving you recently. Always a little sad. You hadn’t been able to put your finger on it for a while but you had finally realized what it was, pity.

The gentle breeze and the moving of the plants hid your quiet sniffles. You continued to walk for what felt like hours. Once you hit the fence that marked where your farm ended, you made your way to the side of the road as you continued walking. The sun was fully out now, it was probably mid afternoon. You were starting to get thirsty, but your pride wasn’t going to let you turn back now, you were in too deep. 

Just as your feet started to ache a little bit more, you began to make out what looked like a farmhouse. You continued walking just off the road, and as you got closer you came face to face with a mailbox. Leaning your head to the left you noted in bold white letters, KENT was written on the side. You contemplated for a moment what you should do. You hadn’t spoken to anyone but your family for nearly a month so you weren’t sure if you would sound stupid or not, but the dryness in your throat quickly made the decision for you. 

Oh well, even if the Kents were your grandparents' age, maybe you could befriend them. That would shut your parents up. Could you be friends with people your grandparents age though? Before you could deliberate any further you had reached the porch. You stopped, looking side to side for someone outside. After seeing nobody you exhaled, straightening your back and looking at your parents eye level. Most adults are that height and that way they wont have tio stare at your head when you open the door, the long hike you took here probably messed up your hair, and that wouldn’t make for a good first impression. You knocked on the door. Once. Twice.

The door slowly creaked open and you were confused when you didnt see someone looking down at you, as you let your eyes fall back to normal your breath got caught in your throat. Looking back at you wasn’t someone your grandparents age, not even your parents. He loooked as old as you, maybe older cause he was a little bigger than you. And his eyes were bluer than you thought was possible. Bluer than clear skies, the oceans you had seen, even your markers. 

You both stared at each other for a moment before he opened his mouth. 

“Hi, can I help you?”

Around 50 thoughts ran through your mind, all slamming into each other and making you stare at him blankly for a second or two.

“Um hi I took a walk, a really long one, longer than I meant to at least-” before you let yourself ramble and make yourself look even stupider than you already have, you shake your head before speaking again, more coherently this time. “Could I get some water? I think i’m dehydrated”

He smiles at you, cheeks caving into dimples as he pushes the door open. “Of course! I’ll have Ma get you some, she’s making some rhubarb pie, if you stay long enough you can have some too!”

You’re pretty shocked at the instant kindness and welcome in your random arrival, but you feel yourself smiling, truly smiling, for the first time in weeks. “I’ve never had Rhubarb pie before, but it sounds good”

He gapes at you for a minute, before beginning to ramble about how it’s the most perfect, amazing dessert to ever exist. You listen intently, following him further into the house after you take your shoes off. Clark, who tells you his name after he proclaims his love for rhubarb pie, brings you to the kitchen. 

A woman with wavy brown hair turns around, meeting your eyes with a smile as she shakes your hand gently. “Hi! I’m Martha, it’s nice to meet you! You’re (Grandpa and Grandma’s names)” grandbaby aren’t you?”

You nod, somewhat surprised that she already knows who you are. Whenever you visit you stick mostly to the farm, rarely going out more into town. Knowing your grandparents, they probably gushed about you to their neighbors so you shouldn’t be too shocked.

You sat down at the table, a glass of water in hand. Martha asked how long you were going to be staying, and Clark perked up when you said you’d moved here permanently. 

“Does that mean you’re going to go to Weisinger?” He asks

You nod, you’re pretty sure that’s the elementary you’d be attending. It is the only one in Smallville after all. Behind you, grabbing a pie tin Martha assks.

“What grade are you going into honey?” 

“Fifth grade” You smile at this, at least after this year you would get to be out of elementary. You were excited to go to middle school, it seemed more grown up. 

After hearing that, Clark says that he’s going into fifth grade too, and you smile wider. A friend. You had actually gotten a friend. 

As June began, so did the slump you had been in. You had been driven home later that day, with two tupperware, one full of pie, and another full of casserole. Martha had insisted. You waved goodbye to her and Clark as you sheepishly stepped inside. You heard quick shuffling, you steeled yourself, ready to get yelled at. 

The last thing you expected was to be wrapped in an enveloping hug. After a more concerned than angry lecture, you held out the tupperware for them and told them all about the very interesting day that you had.

You spent the rest of the summer having fun, mostly with Clark. You guys caught fireflies at night (you always let them go, it was fun watching them all come out at once), climbed and fell off of hay bales, started a book club made up of just you two, and tried, albeit unsuccessfully, to teach him the guitar. You introduced him to your favorite series, loaning him books that you would read together in the corn fields. By late August you even pinky swore. From that day on, you two were officially best friends.

-

Adjusting to Weisinger was hard at first, you weren’t used to such small classes. It didn’t help that everybody knew everybody, most of them since birth, but Clark made it easier. He introduced you to his friends, and soon enough you had a new little circle. The school year went by fast like it always did, and soon enough you were getting ready to go to Junior High. You didn’t feel as grown up as you thought you would, but it was exciting nonetheless.

That was until you got your schedule back. Unlike in Elementary school where you just had one teacher that taught you all the subjects, in middle school you had a different teacher for each one. When you compared your schedule to Clarks, your heart sank. You didn’t have any classes together, only lunch. Ever the optimist, he could sense your frustration. He reassured you. 

“We still have lunch together, don’t worry. Besides we have a promise don’t we? I’d never let myself drift away from my best friend” He smiles, and you feel your heart skip a beat. You shove him a little before bringing your hand up to his, pinkies interlocking as you smile. 

Clark, as usual, was right. Your classes were still full of people you knew, as moving here like you did was pretty rare. Most of them were boring, but some classes you always looked forward to. The two main ones were English and music.

Over the summer the ‘Book Club’ you had with Clark turned into a writing club, you had exhausted all the books both of your parents thought you were mature enough to read, and so after putting your heads together you decided to just write your own stories.

You both went about it differently. Where Clark was methodical, direct, almost documentative, you were more metaphorical, lyrical, introspective.

It was fun seeing how the other would have such different takes on prompts, and class gave you an oppurtunity to imporve your skills.

Music was also like that, but instead you got to play on an electric guitar. You had wanted one since you had first picked up an acoustic, but your mom insisted that playing on an acoustic would “sharpen your skills”. She was right, it had been what she had done when she learned how to play. Nothing could beat the adrenaline rush you got when playing an electric for the first time though. It felt like the notes itself were flowing through your veins. This was definitely something you could get used to.

Clark and you still hung out at least twice a week. Sometimes you did homework together, trying and failing to work on math. Two heads is better than one didn’t apply to you guys when it came to anything math related. Other times you wrote lyrics as he wrote up things for the daily announcements, it let him write about stuff the way he wanted. You guys were great.

You two had somehow gotten even closer, you were both rarely seen without  the other during breaks. In seventh grade you had three classes together, that was fun. And going into eighth, you only had one. Anything was better than nothing though, and you quickly settled into the new routine. 

It was orgnaized chaos, until yesterday at least. 

As you guys were biking home from school Clark told you about a crush he had one one of your classmates. Not just anyone though, he had a crush on Lana. Lana Lang. The perfect, beautiful, frustratingly nice Lara Lang. You almost crashed your bike when he told you, but luckily a rock you passed over hid it for you. Truly a blessing in disguise. You listened to him talk about her, offering input on how he should ask her out. He thought he didn’t have a chance, but you convinced him otherwise later. 

As you had predicted she had said yes to him, and they had a date planned for Sunday. It wasn’t anything too crazy, just getting ice cream and biking to the creek. He admitted he was nervous though, because he didn’t know if it was normal to kiss someone after a date. You didn’t really know either, it’s not like your parents talked to you about things like this, and you didn’t have an older sibling to ask, so you both tried to figure out what the social norms were. After deliberating for hours (20 minutes) you guys thought that before she went back to her house, he would kiss her if it felt right.

That followed another long discussion about what “feeling right” meant and how he would know. One of the things you and Clark had in common was not really understanding social situations at times. While he had to actively identify them and figure out how to react, you had a hard time reacting in what you knew was the “normal” way. It was nice having someone that you didn’t have to pretend all the time around, and you think he appreciated having someone besides his parents that he didn’t have to constantly overthink around. He could be honest with you, blunt even. 

That’s why it didn’t really shock you when he asked you a question the next day. You’re in your bedroom- him at your desk, writing; you at the foot of your bed, practicing chords. The question itself does surprise you, though.

“Do you think we could kiss? For practice at least, I don’t wanna kiss Lana badly. That would be a nightmare.”

You pause for a moment, accidentally playing a chord a little flat before you laugh. He looks back at you and you laugh, shaking your head. 

“Practicing sounds smart but are you sure? You’d be losing your first kiss to me instead of her.”

He contemplates for a moment before responding. “I don’t think I would, besides I'd be your first kiss too so it would balance out.”

It’s your turn to think now, and after a moment of deliberation you nod your head. What he said is logical, besides you don’t really mind losing your first kiss to Clark, you’ve known him for a long time and he’s one of the few people you fully trust. 

“How should we do it? Also do you mean like right now?” You put your guitar to the side, leaning to your right and cracking your back. 

He gets out of your chair and sits in front of you. It isn’t awkward per se, it never is with the two of you, but something is different. He looks at you differently than he normally does. You don’t know how to describe it, before you can contemplate longer he interrupts your thoughts. 

“If you dont mind, that is. You do know that you can tell me no, right?” He looks at you a little worried but that disappears when you smile.

“Yeah yeah, I know.” looking at him. Both of you sit still for a minute again before he grabs your hand, gently tugging you closer. You can feel your heartbeat thrumming. He tells you to not be nervous, and before you can quip out a retort, his lips are on yours. It’s an interesting feeling. He’s warm, like always and the hand that had pulled you closer is slowly bought up to your face. A second later your eyes are opening as you both simultaneously pull apart. “How was that? Was it bad?” He asks

You think about it for a moment, but after seeing him get more nervous you reassure him it was fine. You were just trying to figure out how to describe it. You’re careful to not sound overly enthusiastic, and for the first time since knowing him, you lie to Clark. Lie might be a stretch, it’s more of a half truth. I mean it’s not like you could tell him that you liked it, or that you wanted to do it again. Lana. Pretty, perfect Lana. You shove whatever confusing emotions youre feeling down as you and Clark go back to normal, he’s still sitting on the floor with you , but now he’s to your left, reading over your lyrics and helping you edit them while you keep playing chords trying to figure out what sounds right. 

You find yourself dreading Sunday. The usual excitement you have for the weekend is dampened when you remember how it’s going to end. You’re supposed to be happy for Clark, be the one cheering him on from the sidelines. So why is it that you’re struggling so much to do it? 

And so like you always do when you’re feeling things you don’t fully comprehend, you grab your journal. The leather is worn around the edges, and you pull the thin bookmark to the side as you begin to write. You write in pen, it doesn’t fade like pencil does, but it makes for a very annoying writing utensil when you seem to be writing all the wrong things. Three hours and much more pages later, you read over the lyrics you’ve scrubbled down. 

You said she makes you happy, so why can’t I breathe?

I smile like I mean it, but it cracks my teeth

I tell myself it’s nothing, just a shadow in my mind,

But when your eyes find hers the colors start to blind

You groan, getting angry but not having the heart to strike what you’ve written. You drop your journal at your desk and grab your backpack, you have algebra homework due.

You should’ve known Clark would come straight to yours after dropping her. Your parents just let him in now, the only thing that you need to hear to know he’s here is the special knock you both came up with last summer. You perk up, composing yourself and making sure you don’t look like you’ve been wallowing in self pity for the last few hours like you actually are. You open the door with a smile. Clarks eyes meet yours and you quickly usher him into your room, pulling out some snacks as you sit down. 

He tells you everything, what the bike ride to hers was like, all the mosquitos that bit him, what she was wearing when she came out. Red shirt and blue jeans with some grease on them from working on a car project with her dad. They had gone to get ice cream, he was still being assaulted by mosquitos. He got vanilla cone, she got bubblegum. They ate their ice cream then biked haphazardly to the creek, then sat and talked. You followed along, you were happy for him, and all seemed to have gone as smoothly as could be imagined. 

“Once the sun got closer to setting we biked back to hers and before she left she leaned in and hugged me. I think she pecked my cheek? I got really nervous and kinda forgot. I did smile at her at least, and hugged her back. But duh who wouldn’t hug someone back if they were- anyways yeah then she went inside, and I came here. 

The excitement you had for him earlier much to your dismay only increased when you heard how it ended.

You hugged him, told him he did a good job, and hung out for a few more minutes.

It was getting late, and you guys had school in the morning. You gave him your algebra homework before he left, telling him to follow the steps you did to get the right answer. You made sure to mention that your dad had looked over it to make sure you were right. The last thing you needed was to be wrong while trying to help other people. He thanked you and you walked him down, giving him another hug and waving as biked off.

You closed the door behind you, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. As you turned around to go back upstairs the whole family stared at you from the living room, the movie on the tv being all but forgotten. Just illuminating their faces as they gave you a collective look that screamed ‘I know something you don’t’. After a second you went back to your room upstairs, catching a sliver of conversation as you did.

“When are they going to get together” “Oh hush ma, what if she hears you?”

“Oh please, I’m sure she already likes him”

Your heart quickens a bit as you make your way up. 

This is really bad, what are you going to do?

For the first summer since moving to Smallville, you and Clark don’t spend basically everyday together. Sure, you still hang out at least once a week, but the feelings you were trying to deny are just getting stronger and you don’t know what to do with them. You write more songs now, and for your birthday your parents finally got you an electric guitar. They complain about the noise if you play too late, but you know that they don’t mind, not really. You even build more on the lyrics you had written down a few months ago back when you really didn’t know what was going on. You glance over the page, playing the chords you had color coded with highlighters as you hum along. 

You talk about her like she hung the sky

And I'm nodding along just to get by

You laugh and I crack a little more

Staring at the shoes I wore to your front door

I’m the margin where your thoughts begin

The line you cross then write again

You talk about her, I laugh on cue

Fold up my feelings, just like you do

I swear i’m happy and it’s half true

But I still wish she was me to you

It’s frustrating, feeling this way. You should feel happy for him, you do feel happy for him. But you can’t help it.

You go to bed restless that night. 

That fall was the worst harvest Smallvilles ever had. Some of the farmers had crop loss so severe that they had to sell some of their animals. Smallville was as tight knit as they come, and so people helped each other out where they could. You and Clark worked together, opening a small food pantry for those in need.

Because of the rough start to autumn, back to school morale was at an all time low. That coupled up with the fact that this was your first year of high school made your nerves all the more worse. You tossed and turned restlessly before deciding to just get up. You walked to your closet, pulling on a pair of comfy shorts before biking over to Clarks. His room is on the second floor, but he always leaves the first floor studys’ window unlocked so that you can come over if you need him. You leave your window open, he manages to get up somehow, you don’t really know how but you don’t ask questions. 

After pulling the window up and avoiding making any creaks or noises, you contort yourself into the house. Gently going up the stairs you reach Clarks door. You knock quietly.

After a few seconds Clark comes to the door. He clearly hasn’t slept yet either, and his shoulders relax as he sees you. After letting you in, he closes the door behind you.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You drop onto his bed responding with a hum. “I blame it on nerves”

“How come you’re nervous?” a familiar weight joins you on the mattress. 

“I dunno, it’s nothing really”

His eyes narrow a little before laying down, you’re both laying horizontally on the bed now, knees to the edge. “You’re lying”

“No i’m not”

“Yes you are”

“Am not”

“Are too”

You roll your eyes, looking to the side before staring at the ceiling. The fan moves along lazily, doing little to cool the burning you felt in your face

“High school just seems scary, after this I either have to get a job or go to college. Either way, i’ll be leaving Smallville and leaving Smallville means leaving you. And the last time I left behind my friends we basically stopped speaking all together save calls on our birthdays. I don’t know if I can handle that. And I know it sounds dumb-”

He cuts you off, he looks at you, and you can feel it. Meeting his eyes you look back at him, they’re still the same shade of blue. Bright, blinding, beautiful.

“We aren’t gonna stop being best friends just because you move y’know. We made a promise. We keep our promises.” His pinky intertwines with yours and you can’t help the smile that reaches your face. 

“I know I know, but we’re both only going to get busier. Me with my music and you with your writing. We’ll join clubs, you’ll finally ask Lana out and i’ll probably go out with Pete”

“Wait Pete Ross? Of all people, why Pete?” He gets up, leaning back on his elbows, looking at you in disbelief

Immediatley you feel defensive, you get up too, mirroring him. “Why not? We have music together and he’s pretty cool.” “Well I don’t know, he seems” Clark pauses for a moment. Knowing him he’s trying to figure out how to say a not so nice thing in a nice way. He settles on calling him “Unique”. You scoff getting up feeling anger start to bubble up in your chest. “Ok I dont understand why you can’t be supportive of who I want to date when I've been your number one when it comes to you and Lana” You start to walk towards the door. Before you can make he grabs your arm, stopping you. You flinch, he’s holding onto you, hard. He lets go immediately, apologizing. 

“Look I didn’t mean it like that, I'm sure he’s great.” His hands come up to his neck, scratching it softly. He’s lying, you know it. Great. Just great. 

You had given him the decency to be happy for him and Lana, so why couldn’t he even pretend to be happy for you? It wasn’t even like you guys were together. You pushed out a quick goodbye and made your way quietly down the steps. You had never left his house feeling worse than when you had come, but apparently there was a first time for everything. 

You knew he’d be waiting to bike with you in the morning, so you left for school half an hour early. Your mom looked at you skeptically before handing you your lunch. After saying bye to your grandparents, you left. 

You honestly don’t know if you were even hiding how shitty you felt. Last night kept playing on loop, and you dreaded the day ahead as you got closer to your new home for the next four years. 

Smallville High seemed huge and intimidating to you in the past, but you were older now. If you looked close enough, you could see the grout chipping off the bricks. You looked up, seeing SMALLVILLE HIGH SCHOOL in bold red letters. They loomed over you mockingly. 

Letting out a sigh, you made your way into the mostly empty halls. Checking your watch, you still had some time before first period, so you decided to go to your music class and scope out the place. It wasn’t grand by any means, but it was a huge upgrade from junior high. The room was small, cosy. There were rows where the choir would sing, and along the side of the wall opposite lay an assortment of instruments. Guitar, bass, drums. There were also cases, you assumed, for the band and orchestra instruments. 

While you were busy exploring your new school, Clark had arrived at your house. He had some of Ma’s oatmeal cookies with him, they were your favorite, and he really was sorry. He felt even worse after your mom told him you had left early. Said it was something about trying out for band. She had looked at him with pity, like she knew something he didn’t. Smiling and nodding, he turned around and picked up his bike. 

Since when did you want to do band?

The first bell rang and you made your way to class. The first period of the day was history. It was a subject you liked, but your teacher Mr. Jensen seemed to have a natural talent for making the most interesting of things boring. As his monotone voice dragged on you felt yourself nodding off a little before someone to your right nudged you gently. 

Looking over, you noticed Pete Ross of all people signaling his head to the board. You almost laughed, how ironic. 

The rest of the day passed with a similar vibe, you were exhausted and if you had to do one more ice breaker you were going to slam your head into the wall. Everyone already knew everyone so what was the point? At least you hadn’t seen Clark today though, small wins. 

Speaking of Clark, he had spent almost all day trying to spot you, this year you guys didn’t have any classes together, or lunch so he had resorted to wasting his passing period. Not like he really needed it to get to class on time. He bit on the inside of his cheek, he had really messed up this time. 

-

The following 3 weeks were some of the worst you had ever had. You didn’t know if it was because you had been ducking Clark, or if it was because your music teacher seemed to hate everything you had to offer. He said your music was “too rough” and it would lead to “sin”.

As if.

You rolled your eyes, getting angry just thinking about it. You tried to write new songs, but you kept on turning back to one of the earliest pages of your journal. The page was worn out more than the ones surrounding it, and was dotted with a few old tearstains. You flicked your pen back and forth before writing

I wrote your name in every line

You traced hers over it, realigned

I was the echo you never heard 

Just background hum beneath your words

This was getting really pathetic, you knew you were in the wrong by now. He had tried to apologize and you had been too upset to forgive him. You steeled yourself, and decided that today was the day. You grabbed your bike, and headed over to the Kents. 

Your heart was hammering in your chest, you honestly thought you were going to throw up. You took deep breaths as you walked up to the porch.

Clark. This is Clark. The same guy that cried when he saw ant piles disappear in the rain, the same Clark that walked a mile with you on his back when you were 10 because you scraped your knee playing. You’re fine, he’s fine, you guys will be ok.

You knock on the door

It opens and familiar green eyes meet yours. Lana Lang. She smiles at you, but it doesn’t fully reach her eyes.

“Oh hey, you! So good to see you?”

“Yeah, you too Lana, is Clark here?” Your resolve is crumbing by the second, your feet itch with the urge to just turn around.

“Clarkie? Yeah he’s here, do you want something?” She bats her eyelashes at you, waiting for a response

You grimace at the nickname. Clarkie? Really?

“Uh yeah, I wanted to talk to him actually, can you just send him out? Or I can come in-” As you say that she closes the door so that just her face peeks out. 

“I’ll see if he can come out” She smiles at you, then slams the door in your face. And so you wait. And wait. And wait. Three minutes turns into five, and before you know it it’s been fifteen minutes. You’re contemplating just leaving but the door opens again.

You perk up, expecting Clark but it’s Lana at the door instead. Something is different about her though, your eyes narrow and you notice the lipstick she had on earlier is almost gone, smudged around the corners. Her face is flushed, and she’s breathing heavily. You feel yourself start to get sick.

“So sorry love but he’s too busy to come talk right now. Maybe some other day?” She doesn’t even let you speak, and closes the door in your face. Wow.

What you didn’t know is that Lana hadn’t even told Clark you had come, when he asked who it was she said it was just some delivery man that had gotten the wrong address.

They had been working on a piece for the Smallville Torch, his first issue was a big deal and he had wanted a second pair of eyes. He had tried going to you, and you needed space. Lana had offered and he didn’t see the harm in it. He wasn’t really expecting her to just abandon helping him though, she basically out of nowhere had started to give him the look and started to kiss him. He didn’t mimd, but he really needed to work on the piece.

After giving her some more pecks he got back to work. Lana had left the room saying she needed to use the restroom, but he heard the front door open.

He honed his listening in, and when he heard Lana telling someone that he was busy he was confused, then he heard your voice. You sounded hurt. It dawned on him then, what had actually been going on. 

Ever since you guys had that argument, he had gotten kinda lonely. All of his other friends had told him to just find you and apologize again, but he knew you wouldn’t really accept it until he had given you space. He had started to hang out with Lana more, and more, and she always acted weird when you were brought up. He put his head in his hands, god he had really done it this time. He was ripped out of his thoughts when the door opened and a smiley Lana had waltzed in. He told her to leave nicely, or so he thought. She started crying, asking what she did wrong. When he wouldn’t give her an answer, she started to yell. At least Ma and Pa weren’t home, they wouldn’t have liked to hear him speak that way to a lady, even if she was hurting him.

As he walked her back to the stairs, she kept on talking, but about you now. Started saying all kinds of awful things and if he hadn’t known better he would’ve cussed her out. He closed the door as she left and went back to his room to try and figure out how to fix this mess.

You’ve been crying for a good hour by now, you can’t help it. You keep on trying to tell yourself that he’s just a friend but you can’t help the way your heart aches. You can’t deal with it anymore. You open the all too familiar page in your journal and write the final chorus to the song.

I’m the silence when you need a friend

The start of stories that never end

You talk about her, I know you should

She makes you smile the way I wish I could

And maybe that’s just how it goes

Some hearts stay hidden, some never show

As you finish the last line, the ink is still wet as you make your resolve. If you can’t get rid of the feelings you have for Clark, you’ll just shove them down. 

You lay in bed trying to figure out what chords are gonna be the best for your song when you hear your window start to creak open. You don’t tense up, but you are thankful that your tears had stopped flowing a few hours ago.

A weight dips into the bed in front of you, and as you look up your heart breaks just a little bit. Sitting at the foot of your bed is Clark. His clack curls lay messily on his head, he’s looking at you apologetically, and you don’t miss the redness in your eyes as he stares. He’s been crying, the poor thing. 

You don’t even speak, just letting your guitar rest softly on the bed as you move to stand up in front of him. Standing, you cradle the head of the boy sat beneath you. You can hear small sniffles as he begins to apologize. Your fingers toy with his hair gently, as you apologize to him too.

“And I’ve been meaning to tell you, honestly I was just going to tell you tomorrow, but me and Lana are done” His voice shakes slightly as he nuzzles his head further into your stomach.

Whatever anger that you had immediately vanishes as you listen. He tells you about what happened earlier that day, how he had been feeling, him trying to find you. 

You both had been so lonely these last few weeks. You move his head gently so that he’s looking at you, and raise a pinky. Silently, they interlock. 

-

You find yourself falling into a new rhythm, you aren’t that sad anymore, not really. Clark and you both date your fair share of people in highschool, you start a band that (miserably) falls apart. He’s always at every gig you had though, within fail. Clark gets better and writes more stories for the Torch. By senior year, not only is he editor in chief, he’s also the Captain of the Smallville Crows, the varsity football team.

You guys make an odd pair, him in his letterman and blue jeans, and you in your studded leather jacket and ripped jeans. You guys were still two peas in a pod. 

While most things were the same, some things had changed. You had started to dye your hair, going from purple to green, before settling on the dark cherry red you had now. You couldn’t tell when it was down, but you buzzed the sides of your hair so that you could put it into a mohawk when you wanted. Clark had changed too, he had gotten taller, stronger. He was able to lift things that shouldn’t even be humanly possible, he would flinch at loud noises, and vanish when there were emergencies in town. 

-

You guys decided to go to prom together, as friends of course. Neither of you had dates and you didn’t see the fun in going alone. You arrived at the gym around 9:30pm, in the Kents pickup. 

It’s been pretty fun so far, the music they’re playing isn’t half bad. They played a lot of the Mighty Crabjoys, you shouldn’t be too surprised though. Clark had managed to get the whole team hooked on them. As you guys are sitting at the bleachers chilling, he suddenly freezes. 

You freeze too, and ask what’s wrong. He says something, barely a whisper but you make out “My parents. It’s my parents, somethings wrong.” Getting up he looks to you

“Stay here for me”

Matching him, you get up. 

“Like hell I will”

He flashes you a smile before worry covers his face again. He grabs your hand and rushes out of the gym, leading you both to the truck. 

Turning the car on, he speaks

“Ok I, I don’t know if I can explain this right now”

“Then don’t. Let’s go”

He hesitates for a second before backing out and speeding away from school. You guys are going fast. Fast for your standards means lightning speed for Clarks. You guys are going down the dirt roads and when you glance at the wheel, you see his knuckles turning white. 

The truck comes to a screeching halt, and through the highbeams you see a truly scary sight.

Jonathan's truck crashed off the side of the road, crumpled. You feel your heart drop as you scramble to get out of the car. 

Looking at the scene in front of you, you bring your fingers to your hair, trying to calm yourself. 

“Clark this is bad, really bad. We gotta call someone” He shakes his head “There isn’t any time”

And for the first time since you’ve known him, Clark Kent has rendered you truly speechless.

You watch as he rips the mangled door of the truck off its hinges with his left hand, getting Jonathan and Martha out like they weigh nothing. You wonder for a second if the gas tank is leaking and if you're hallucinating this whole thing. You snap out of it, opening the back of the pickup to lay his parents down.

You don’t question him, Clark has always made sure you were safe. So what if he was insanely strong and could probably pick your whole house up without breaking a sweat. He was still the same Clark.

He begins to drive towards the farm and you break the silence

“Does anyone else know?”

“Just Ma and Pa, and you now too”

There’s a brief silence before you ask, quieter “Why me”

“Because I trust you.”

After his parents are put in bed and their injuries taken care of, (You had insisted on them getting xrays but he said he could see their bones. That weirded you out for a second, then you asked him to describe your skull. It was his turn to be weirded out then)

You guys don’t end up going back to the dance, and instead lay in the fields watching the stars. A comfortable silence envelops you both, and you guys slowly drift off to sleep. 

- 

Graduation creeps up quickly, a small ball of dread has been building for the last few weeks. You had already been accepted into Gotham University, full ride courtesy of a Mr. Bruce Wayne. Apparently, if you were poor enough, he’d just throw money at you. You weren’t sure if it was charity or penance, and honestly, you didn’t care.

It was funny, though, how one man could casually bankroll someone’s entire education without blinking, while the rest of the country drowned in debt just for daring to want a future. You wondered how deep his pockets went, how many zeroes it took to feel absolved.

But you weren’t about to spit in the face of your ticket out. If the system was rigged, you were taking whatever scraps fell off the billionaire table, and running.

Clark was going to be leaving too, but to Metropolis. He had gotten into Metropolis University for journalism and you couldn’t be more happy for him. He’d finally be somewhere bigger, somewhere that matched him. Not just his powers, though that would probably help, but the rest of him too. His inherent goodness, the kind that made people want to be better by just standing next to him, would probably create more positivity in the city.

The night before you both were to walk the stage, you went out into the fields like you always did. It was basically tradition at this point. You guys could be quiet together, no small town noise, no teachers, no futures looming on acceptances and job offers. 

Just the two of you and the stars.

You were both laying in the back of his truck, staring up at the kind of sky that makes you feel small in a good way. Crickets chirped in the tall grass. His plaid flannel was draped over your shoulders. You strummed your guitar absentmindedly, playing some song you had heard on the radio earlier. You guys sat in comfortable silence

“Do you ever think,” he said quietly, eyes still on the stars, “about how weird it is? That we’re supposed to just.. start our lives tomorrow? Like real ones. Adult ones. Without ever really being with someone we trusted?”

You stopped strumming

Not because the thought was strange, but because it wasn’t. Not at all. 

“Yeah, actually” you said. “All the time.”

You shifted slightly, and the flannel slipped down your left shoulder. 

“People act like we’re supposed to have all these big experiences already figured out. Like we’re gonna just wake up in our dorms or our apartments or wherever, and just know what the hell we’re doing”

Clark smiles at that, small and sad. “I’ve been working since I can remember and I still don’t feel like I know anything”

You laugh softly, nudging him a little. “You know plenty, you just think too much”

He turned his head to look at you, something was different about his eyes. They seemed to glow in the moonlight, a bright, blinding blue. 

“Maybe I do, but not about this.”

Your breath catches in your throat

“This?” you repeat, almost afraid to ask

He doesn’t look away, just says that he “trusts you”

It wasn’t a confession, not really. But it felt like one. Something quiet and huge at the same time. Something that shifted the air in between you

You swallowed, “I trust you too”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, but was pronounced. It pulsed with everything you had wanted to tell him but hadn’t, not yet.

You set your guitar aside

“I don’t wanna go into the rest of my life never having felt close to someone y’know?” you admitted, voice quiet. “Not like that, I mean really being close to someone, them actually seeing me and choosing me”

His hands found yours in the space between you. “Me neither”

You leaned in first. Or maybe he did. You weren’t sure, because the second it happened, time seemed to stop.

It felt unreal having his lips on yours again. They were soft, and his hands pulled you closer. The boy who you had lost your first kiss to al those years ago grew up, and so had you.

You broke the kiss as you straddled his waist, and then you kissed him again. You had kissed people before, but it never felt like this. Your arms looped behind his neck as you felt yourself grinding into him subconsciously. He whimpered into your mouth before bringing his hand to your waist to help you move.

His hands both came to your waist, and he gently flipped your positions so that you were lying on your back and he was on top of you.

His kisses began to trail down, moving from your lips to your neck, down to your collar bones. When he was met with the barrier of a shirt he looked at you for permission. Once you gave him the go ahead he brought it over your head. You couldve sworn you saw hearts in eyes as he stared at you.

He looked at you as if you were a work of art, a sculpture of a deity so holy that you had to worship it. He began to kiss down your sternum, unclasping your bra before his mouth found your nipples. Swirling his tongue, he sucked gently while tweaking the other. It made a familiar heat rush down between your legs and you couldn’t help the small pants that escaped your mouth. 

This seemed to only spur him on however, and he went further and further down before removing your shorts. He groaned when he saw the wet spot of your panties, glossing over it with his fingers before he pulled them down too.

“Is it alright if I try something?” He asked you softly

You nodded your head, unsure about what exactly he was planning on doing

And that was when you felt a warm tongue pressing into you. Clarks head was deep between your legs, his fingers gripped your thighs gently but firmly as he ate you up. The feeling you had now was entirely foreign to you, and you couldn’t help but grab at his hair as he pushed himself deeper and deeper in. His nose rubbed against your clit as his tongue continued to prod at your folds and you felt a coil building up in your stomach. He brought his right hand down, letting go of your right leg while pushing your left up higher, causing him to hit you at a new angle. That on its own would’ve been a lot but his thumb began to make small circles on your clit. It was too good, and far too much. You barely got out a warning before you were cumming, he stayed put, helping you ride out your high. He pulled away from you with a smile on his face, and wiped his lips before coming up to kiss you. 

As his tongue wrapped around yours you could taste yourself on him, it was embarrassing how much it had turned you on. While he kissed you, he began to fumble with his shorts, getting them pushed down and then kicking them off to who knows where. 

“Is it ok if we go all the way? It’s totally fine if not-” You cut him off by kissing him and claw at his boxers. He laughs into the kiss as gets them off and for the second time in your life, Clark Kent has left you speechless. He’s big, really big, I-dont-even-know-if-it’ll-fit kinda big, but you’ve never backed down from a challenge. 

“Can you lay down f’me? I read somewhere that I have to get you ready for it first”

You laugh at that, imagining him trying to find a website that gives sex tips. You oblige, laying down as he covers his fingers with some of his spit before bringing them back down to your entrance. He starts off with one finger. It’s a stretch, but after a while he adds another, then another, he slowly scissors you open and after a few minutes you’re ready. He asks you if you’re sure one more time as he lines himself up. After you tell him again, smiling “yes, i’m sure” he begins to push in slowly.

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt. For the first few minutes you thought you were gonna be ripped in half. Clark made sure to rub circles on your clit, and kissed your face as you adjusted inch by inch. Soon enough, you’ve taken all of him and you give him the ok that he can move. 

And move he does.

He starts softly, his arms are at either side of your head and he thrusts softly in and out. He begins to pick up the pace and your back starts to arch. It feels so good, it's like your whole being is wholly consumed by him, he’s everything you want and everything you need.

You open your eyes and he’s at your neck, smiling as he presses kisses into it. You feel yourself get closer and he shifts slightly. He’s hitting deeper in this position, his arms holding you up by the hips as his thrusts quicken in intensity. He’s hitting something deep inside you and you can feel the knot building inside you getting tighter and tighter.

You manage to get out that you’re close and somehow his speed starts to increase even more. He’s letting out quiet moans and whimpers. Whispering out small praises for you, that you’re “doing so good f’me” and taking him “so well”. It all starts to be too much for you and you reach your arms out, grabbing his face to pull him in for a kiss.

He fills you to the hilt and you let yourself go. He follows suit shortly after, smiling and pressing kisses all over your face before gently pulling out. You’re already on the pill so he isn’t as worried as he would’ve been otherwise. 

You both lay tangled together in the back of the truck, the stars reflecting back, forming constellations that you both know like the back of your hand. Neither of you said I love you. Neither of you had to

But god, did you both wish you could.

You guys drive back home. He drops you at yours, walks you to the door before hugging you goodbye. You hear him leave as you close the door.

You go over the next day, you had borrowed one of Clarks writing books to help with some lyrics, and you knew he was going to need it if he started packing. 

Opening the door you saw Martha at the kitchen table, hunched over. As you got closer you made out what she was doing, she was sketching out.. suit designs?

After noticing you she quickly ushers you over, “Come look sweetie, it’s a project. For Clark”

You join her at the kitchen table, helping her come up with a color scheme. You decide to use the primary colors. You add a cape too, for “pizzaz” 

The night before you both leave for college, you guys hang out in your room. Things aren’t awkward between you two, but you’re holding yourself back from telling him how you feel. You don’t bring up that night, or the suit. 

Before he leaves, he hugs you. Tight, like always. He tells you that you’ll do amazing in Gotham, and that he can’t wait to visit. You smile, telling him that if he doesn’t come see you at least once this semester that you’ll murder him. 

-

You hear about a new hero that’s popped up in Metropolis called Superman a few weeks later. As you’re sitting in your dorm watching the skyline a flash of gold and red streaks across the night sky

It’s just a blur, but it brings a smile to your face anyway

He remembered.

[f1lovr]

GENTLE LOVER | OP81

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: in which the polite cat has a gentle lover

warnings: none!

1. THE POST-RACE BATHTIME

oscar was adamant sometimes that he didn't need help. the race had been brutal though. he had ended in P13 and when he returned to the hotel later that night he was quiet.

he didn't look upset, he just looked...gone, tired. you could see it in the way his bag was lazily dropped to the floor like he didn't care where it landed or even about what was in it anymore, the way he pulled his hat off, and the way he blinked slowly at the floor.

"tough one?" you had asked gently. you didn't need him to say much to know what was going on.

he only nodded, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, his body heavy as he sat down. you moved to step in between his legs, your hands coming up to his cheeks, your thumb brushing gently over his cheek, tracing down to his jaw.

"come on osc, bath time."

he muttered quietly in return to that, "i'm not five."

his hand still found its way into yours though as he let you gently pull him towards the bathroom of the little hotel room that the both of you share.

you ended up sat besides the tub, your sleeves rolled up, just letting him sit in there and soak in the quietness of the moment, the presence of you, not thinking about anything in particular. your hands moving to gently pour water over his hair, massaging the soap into his scalp.

he didn't say anything, only letting out little sighs. not loud ones, just the ones where they were long exhales and you knew he was really letting go.

later the two of you lay in the bed, oscar dressed in sweatpants and wrapped in a blanket, laying beside you as the both of you ate from the tray of fries you had ordered from the hotel room service, some random episode that you both had left off on of Brooklyn Nine-Nine playing in the background.

"you know," he had started to murmur between his small bites, "I think that at the end of the day you're the best part of my weekend," he said softly his head turning to look at you.

you only smiled, leaning over to kiss his cheek gently, your mouth lingering for a moment before pressing another quick kiss to his skin before pulling away, "even when you finish P13?"

"especially then."

2. RAINY DAY MOMENTS

There was a soft drizzle of rain outside, the noise filling the room that you and oscar were in, humming as it hit the window, tapping against the window in a gentle rhythm.

both you and oscar were buried underneath 3 different blankets, oscar curled into your side, his hoodie pulled up over his head, head resting on your stomach as your hand ran through his hair.

"i could stay like this forever," he muttered quietly, his voice barely there.

you smiled, your fingers continuously drag slowly through his hair, scratching gently at his scalp, "don't tempt me."

he chuckled, the vibrations felt against your stomach. "do you think that if i skipped media and said that i was trapped in a cuddle pile they'd accept it?"

"if anyone could deliver that line of an excuse and keep a straight face it would be you."

oscar proceeded to pull the blanket over both of your heads, mumbling against your shoulder, "i'm serious. i don't want to go to media and forced to go be around people just for them to ask me what went wrong during lap 18."

"then don't, stay here," you whisper softly, "just for today, be my little soft boy."

oscar's response consisted of a sleep filled kiss to your collarbone and his head burying itself deeper into your neck.

3. PRE-QUALIFYING NERVES

oscar was never the one to show off his nervous side. he didn't pace, he didn't snap at his engineers, he never let out any sort of dramatic sigh.

but you could see through his facade, saw how nervous he actually was, saw the way he continuously checked his gloves over four times, or in the way he was silent for a prolonged stretch of time.

one day you decided to slip a little note into his helmet bag before the both of you left for the paddock that day.

"you don't have to prove anything today. i already believe in you. just drive like it's what you love. i'll be waiting to see you after, and i'll be proud either way."

oscar didn't react when he first saw it, but then again he was never really one to react out loud in the first place. he simply just tucked the paper into his suit pocket and gave a small smile at the gesture.

he found you later that afternoon, just after his qualifying session, there you sat in the garage, a look on your face like you didn't just wreck his world in one of the best ways. there was a soft, unreadable look that he had in his eyes, his hand reaching for your own.

"i kept it in my pocket the whole time," he muttered quietly, only for you to hear, "felt like you were right there next to me the entire time."

"i always am," you had muttered in response, smiling softly.

4. GOOFY GROCERY GAMES

never let oscar piastri drive the shopping cart.

"i swear you do this on purpose," you had said while you were laughing watching as he clipped the corner of an endcap that was filled with soup cans.

"it adds excitement to a normally mundane task," he had said flatly, not even bothering to look behind him to see if he had knocked anything over.

"osc, that's not how you take a hairpin turn," you giggle.

he only turned with a huge grin on his face, "tell that to the marshmallow man i just wiped out."

you only rolled your eyes in response, your eyes scanning the food in the cart consisting of lots of sugary cereal, crisps, ranges of energy drinks, and about zero actual food.

"baby, we came here for fruit and oats, what is all this?"

oscar only grinned holding a bag of chips to his chest, "strategic carb loading."

you shook your head kissing his cheek gently, "put the blue doritos back and i'll let you pick which ice cream we get."

"negotiator," he gasped.

"better believe it."

5. SOFT MORNINGS FOR TWO SOFT PEOPLE

oscar definitely was not a morning person, but he was very much a "being next to you in the morning" person.

you had woken up early, finding your way to the spot on the ledge of the window, a mug of tea in your hand as you watched the sun rise, feeling the warmth as it seeped into your skin the higher it got.

behind you the sheets rustled as oscar stirred. you had turned just in time to see him roll over, his hair a very chaotic mess, his cheek lined with the creases of the pillow he was sleeping on.

"what are you doing up so early?" he croaked out, emerging from the blankets like a sleepy, confused cat.

"because it's beautiful outside and i couldn't sleep."

he only stared at you blearily, "well you're beautiful inside and i can sleep."

you gave him a little soft giggle at that, "osc, that barely made any sense."

"yeah well neither do you before you've had coffee, now come back to bed."

you smiled setting your mug of tea aside and padding over to where he had opened the covers wordlessly, slipping back into the warmth of him. his hand finding its way to your back like some sort of muscle memory.

"you smell like tea," he hums, his head tucked into your neck.

"you smell like sleep," you giggle.

he grunts in response curling more into you, arms wrapping tighter around you.

"five more minutes?" you ask softly.

"ten," he whispered back, already halfway back asleep.

6. ROOFTOP ADVENTURES

if there was one thing about you and oscar, it's that throughout your relationship one thing that never changed was your love for watching the stars from any rooftop you could get access to.

you were sat on the roof of a random place you were staying at, somewhere more rural, far from any sort of city, both of you wrapped up in blankets, cups of tea in your hands, bodies pressed close.

"that one looks like a kart," oscar mumbles pointing up at the sky.

"that's a plane osc."

"you have no imagination," he teased. he went on to mumble softer, "i like this though, it's very wholesome of us."

"you need more wholesome," you said back just as soft, "you overthink too much."

"i do not," he says, then a beat, "...what if they run soft tyres on sunday and the temp drops two degrees?"

you only gave him a pointed look in response.

he smiled back at you, something small, something private, a smile meant only for you, "okay, maybe a little."

your head moved to rest against his shoulder, "what would you do if racing didn't work out," you had mumbled softly.

he thought about it, resting in the position the both of you were in, the feeling of your head against his shoulder, both of you watching the stars wrapped up in your blankets, "probably something quiet, something with you."

"like a bookstore?" you ask your head tilting up a bit to look at him.

"maybe a bookstore. you'd run the front, i'd stock the shelves."

your face broke out into a little grin, "that's oddly specific osc."

he sipped his tea in response giving a little shrug, "i'd want people to see your pretty face when they walked in instead of my grumpy one."

"you've thought about this for a while haven't you?"

he gave a small shy smile, his head dipping a bit to hide his face, "maybe a little," he mumbled before pressing a soft kiss to your head.

7. CALMING HIM DOWN

the door clicked shut softly behind him. it wasn't slammed. he wasn't angry.

but the air was heavy, he was heavy.

your head looked up from where you had been curled up on the couch. oscar's bag dropping onto the floor, his hoodie being shrugged off, his body taking a seat beside you, his whole figure deflating as he let out a sigh.

"they picked apart my race craft today," he mumbled quietly, "then they asked me to just smile through it."

you didn't say anything, reaching out for his hand, taking it without a word. his thumb coming to brush along yours absentmindedly, like a way of grounding himself.

"i know it's part of the job, i know that. but sometimes i can't help but think that these people just don't see me as someone who is a human, i'm just some racecar driver then can pick apart and tear into, i don't have feelings."

"i do," you answered softly, "always."

he eyes looked up to meet yours. you could see the exhaustion in them, the want for anything but conversation about racing. but you could also see something else in his gaze, gratefulness.

"you don't ever ask me to explain anything. you just sit there...and listen."

you give a little shrug, "i just want to be the one place you don't need to perform. the one place you can just be oscar, my oscar."

he leaned forward, bringing your hand to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles, "and that's exactly what you are to me," he mumbled pulling you into him. 

[sincere1ystar]

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ kindergarten teacher! reader takes her class on a field trip to the Daily Planet ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

clark kent x kindergarten teacher! reader

Your class was eager to go on a field trip, and really they were due for one as all the other kindergarten classes at the school had already went on their yearly field trip. So when Clark suggested that you take your students on a tour of the Daily Planet, you took his offer quickly.

You didn't consider how busy the place could be until after you had emerged out of the elevator and into the newsroom with your kids. "Okay everyone follow the line leader!"

"Alright so this is where they write articles for the paper! News is being written in this very room!" You tried to take an enthusiastic tone for the sake of your students, but really you had no idea where to start when it came to this tour. "So.. here is the printer where they.. print the news".

"Where do they go for break time?", one of your students asked.

"Oh.. well I'm sure there's a break room or something.. Maybe it's through that door!", you say pointing to the elevator.

"So they don't have a playground here?", another one of your kindergartners spoke up. Her little lip started to tremble as she looked around and didn't see anything of the sort.

You immediately bent down to the little girl's level, trying to find anything that would avert her attention to the lack of childlike wonder they were usually used to within the building. "Well they have a stapler! Look they use this to staple the news". You smile sheepishly as a few of the journalists sent a wary look your way. Oh the trouble you were going to give Clark for convincing you this was a good idea!

"We don't just write news", a voice interrupted. "We also take photos of it too". The words put a smile on the kids' faces and their expressions mirrored something joyous. "I'd love to show you some samples, if all of you just followed me this way".

"I'm Jimmy by the way", the man introduced as he caught up to your stance.

"Nice to meet you Jimmy!", you ecstatically shake his hand. "Thank you for taking over I was so lost".

"No problem", he replies sheepishly. "Clark sent me over actually. He told me to 'go hold down the fort while he finishes something up', apparently he's working on something for the kids".

You smile, knowing only Clark would take a visit from kindergartners this seriously. Really they would be entertained by just the coffee machine in the newspaper room.

"Alright!", Clark rushes in with his hands full. "Sorry I'm late, crafting emergency. How is everyone liking the Daily Planet? I brought you guys a little gift to say thank you for visiting us?"

"Gifts?"

"Yes I made everyone hats out of newspaper! Actually this was made out of the paper that shares the news that we write in this very room!" Clark looked more excited than the kindergartners as he passed around the hats.

"Jimmy you can go ahead and show them your photos now", Clark signaled and Jimmy led the group to a following room. You were following before Clark pulled you aside into a small empty room.

"Clark!", you scolded while he just chuckled at your strict expression.

"I had to wait for Jimmy to watch over your students so I could give you your gift sweetheart".

"You made me a newspaper hat too?" The previous urge you had to scold him was replaced with fondness.

"I did, but I was thinking of giving you another gift too", Clark grins as his thumbs made their way to your face. "Can I?"

You giggle as his nose brushes against yours. "Why yes you can". His lips were still smiling as they pressed against yours.

"Clark!", Jimmy calls out knocking on the door. "Some kid lost their newspaper hat will you come out here and fold him another one?"

""Coming!", Clark responds before he turns back to you. "You can stay in here for a bit okay? You looked pretty overwhelmed when you first walked in here, Jimmy and I got this".

You give him one last small kiss and Clark walks out with that dopey grin that only your kisses could paint on his face.

[kenniesf1]

Okay, hear me out: Oscar SMAU with a lawyer reader; the reader is around oscar’s age (same age or a year younger) but is overall very smart so she graduated law school really early so was his legal representation during the entire mclaren alpine contract debacle. she mainly does criminal defense now but since she was just starting out at the time, agreed to be his legal representation. during the time she was helping him with his case, they became quite good friends and he has liked her since that point in time but didn’t want to say anything out of fear of losing the friendship and she’s like a big part of the lore the older oscar fans tell the newer oscar fans

objections (pt.1) | OP81

pairing: oscar piastri x lawyer!reader

summary: a chronicle of lawyer yn and f1 driver oscar's relationship, from alpine contract disputes to their future as a real couple

early june, 2022 - sometime midday

Oscar was nervous. He was sitting in a coffee shop, fidgeting with his thumbs, looking more like a nervous kid than a Formula 1 driver. Maybe it was better this way. It'd probably be easier for Yn to recognize him. After all, the last time they'd seen each other, he was an awkward kid with too-short hair and too-prominent braces. The awkward had remained with him, after all these years.

He didn't really remember how they'd gotten back in contact. It might not even have been Oscar who reached out. It could've been Mark, but that would've been too big a coincidence. For him to be facing her again, only this time as a client and not a love-struck peer, there had to have been cosmic intervention.

Meeting for coffee was her idea. No contracts had been signed yet (just thinking the word gave him a headache). Oscar had been clear with Mark; whoever his lawyer (although he really didn't see the point of having one), it had to be someone he liked. He may or may not have come up with this when he found out it was the same Yn from boarding school that he'd be meeting with. Coffee never hurt anyone.

Every time the door opened, his eyes snapped to it. Nervous didn't suit him. "Maybe I should ease up on the coffee," Oscar said to himself, looking down at the cup before him.

"Sorry?" a familiarly sweet voice sounded. Across from him, Yn, who had clearly grown up better and faster than he had, was setting her bags down, taking her chair out with ease. Oscar couldn't get a quality look at her, but she looked good. She was in black wide leg trousers, a thin white blouse, and surely a pair of heels (or else Oscar wasn't as tall as he thought). Among her many bags--he felt it rude to ask what they were for--was a backpack, which she was ferociously digging into. The deep red sweater perched on her shoulder kept occasionally sliding off as she moved.

"No, it's nothing," he swallowed. "Just talking to myself." Idiot Oscar. Why would you admit that? "Can I get you anything?" She shook her head no, still focused on the thoroughly messed-up contents of her bag.

"No, please, I can pay for myself," she said. "In fact, I'm trying to get you as a client so it should be my treat." On top of the papers and pens she'd pulled out of her backpack, Yn set her wallet.

"Yn," Oscar said, enjoying the sound of her name on his lips again, "let me. Please. I want to." She glanced up at his through her hair. There's that youth of hers.

"Okay," she quietly conceded, waving the white flag by putting her bag down among the rest. "Hi." He smiled. "Sorry, I'm a bit of a mess this morning. My boss is handling a huge torts case and the stress has been contagious. I probably seem like such a mess. Not quite the ideal first impression."

Oscar laughed, "Well, it's not a first impression, so don't worry too much." As a waiter neared, he added, "What'll you have?"

"Just a small americano, please." Once the waiter had left, their interactions consisting of curt nods, she turned her precious attention back to Oscar. "I really needed coffee. My boyfriend broke our machine a few days ago and I think I finally see how strong my addiction is. You're an enabler, Piastri." He didn't know what to focus on. Boyfriend? He didn't quite like that. Piastri? He loved that.

"So, you wanna be my lawyer," he pivoted, hoping the transition was smooth enough to not warrant questions. Yn might not have asked, but the edge of her eye twitched. He knew she caught it.

"Desperately," she leaned in with a vicious yet kind smile. "Which is why I should be wooing you right now, not the other way around." He waved a hand in the air, dismissing her statement. The waiter walked over, placing her coffee and the check on the table, clearly struggling to find space among Yn's many papers. "I don't know how much you know about my firm," she told him, blinking in a way that implied it was a question.

"Well, I know of your firm. I'm not really a semantics guy," he joked.

Yn smiled. "For law, you might not be, but you definitely are for racing." He nodded, trying to accept the compliment. "Okay, so, let me explain. My firm, Cromwell & Hendrix, will be representing you overall. If you get accused of murder--let's not hope for that--you'll be dealing with our criminal attorneys. Right now, when it comes to changing teams and therefore signing contracts, you'll be dealing with me."

"Good," he let slip.

"I got my LLB in Law, but I specialized in Contract Law for my LLM, so you're in good hands, in case that was ever a question." Oscar shook his head, making Yn straighten her back from the little boost of confidence. "I'm still an associate, so this is one of my newest cases. You're actually my first real client. I don't know why they gave you to me, probably because we know each other. Usually, the more experienced attorneys get the Formula One drivers."

"I trust you," he reiterated, tapping her hand with his. Why'd you do that, moron?

"That's comforting," Yn smiled. "Okay, let me take you through the basics."

later that afternoon...

Their meeting had ended three and a half coffees, two brownies, one (shameful) cigarette, and many, many laughs later. It had turned less into a law meeting and more into a natural catching-up. If Yn were being honest, she knew she wasn't meeting with him to talk law. Sure, she planned to explain the surface-level stuff he had to know, but no way was an in-person meeting necessary for that.

She could blame her lack of experience as a primary lawyer, but really, Yn had wanted to talk to him. Oscar was always so elusive, unintentionally and casually. Back when they were at school, he was shy and kept to himself, somehow managing to make their few interactions have a (clearly) lasting impact. No one could ever get enough of Oscar Piastri. It was almost unfair.

James was waiting for her at home. That's what got her to wrap it up. Yn could tell that she and Oscar could spend days recounting stories from their childhood--it warmed her heart a bit too much that he seemed so interested in doing just that--but the thought of her boyfriend at home, imagining her at a business meeting that, in reality, included very little business, painted her thoughts red. They exchanged phone numbers and called it a day.

The moment Yn opened the door to her flat, James' voice sounded through the halls, "How was it?" After three years of knowing him, she could recognize the little details; in his voice, in his mannerisms. He was sat on the couch, so seemingly relaxed that Yn knew he was the most tense he could be. His voice was too soft, too unnatural.

"It was... long," she replied, matching her answer with a laugh. "All that studying for the degree paid off, I basically had to summarize it all for him. But good otherwise. What have you been up to?"

"How's he been?" No relationship is perfect, and no relationship ever will be. These types of instances were the ones that reminded Yn that fact applied to her and James as well. It was sometimes impossible, trying to appease James' envious curiosity while being fully truthful.

"He's been good, obviously," she smiled broadly, "given he's an F1 driver."

"Reserve," James corrected.

Yn cocked her head. Defensively, James shrugged, arms going up in surrender. "It's my first case," she said, walking over to the couch and sitting down next to him. "I know how you feel about him, but I promise, I told you about that stupid crush because that's how little it means to me now. I haven't seen him in, what, six years?" Lie. Well, not really a lie. Fib. "You know how stressful our jobs are, Jamie. All this focus that I'll be putting into this won't be because it's him or because I have some ulterior motives. It's just how things go. You know me." Her hand had gone to his cheek, slightly rubbing it with her thumb. James' hand went up to meet hers.

"I do," he said apologetically.

"Then you have to trust me."

James sighed. For a second, they sat like that. He then put on a brave face, slightly huffing out his chest. "I do."

yn.ln

liked by oscarpiastri, yourmom, and 3,019 others

yn.ln messy london mornings, loads of work, one first client

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yourmom that boy in the last slide looks like a fine young man

yn.ln you can't even see his face, how'd you know he's a fine young man? mum i told you that's my client

yourmom clients and lawyers date all the time in 'how to get away with murder'

yn.ln ah yes because that's how law really works 👍

user1 is this the girl that is oscar piastri's new lawyer?

user2 lol i'm here bc of that too, i think the daily mail said it was her. she's pretty

yn.ln thanks for the compliment but girl why are you trusting the daily mail!!!

user1 so are you oscar's lawyer

yn.ln can neither confirm nor deny 😁

ediepiastri okay, go ahead and out-aesthetic the rest of us

yn.ln take it up with my lawyer... oh wait!

user3 omg were you the old editor of the oxford law review?

yn.ln yesss! my time on the review was gen the best time of my life

user3 im on it rn and you're literally a legend

yn.ln 🥹

hattiepiastri girl you princess he frog oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri I've done nothing

yn.ln oscar, sue for defamation!

hattiepiastri oh this combo be dangerous

user4 she's gonna get so famous!

oscarpiastri Is this what you're doing instead of working on my contract?

yn.ln 🤭

user5 WHAT CONTRACT!

jameskcohen Ah, my beautiful and smart and kind girlfriend posted!

yn.ln ily jamie

july 2nd, 2022 - 05:04

july 2nd, 2022 - 06:15

"What took you so long?" Yn shouted quietly as her front door swung open, revealing a frozen Oscar Piastri in dark sweats, a too comfy looking sweatshirt, and a paper bag smelling like heaven. "We've got business to do!" She grabbed him by the arm--what a nice surprise that was--and pulled him inside, forgetting to close the door. The still immobilized Oscar jumped to push it closed with his foot, following the determined girl simultaneously.

"I assumed you were hungry," he simply shrugged. That sweet little gesture was enough to make Yn calm down. He'd never seen her like this. While Oscar did attempt to clean up a bit--he was in his South Park shirt when he originally texted her--it appeared as though Yn was still in her pajamas, her hair messy and thick black-rimmed glasses perched unevenly on her nose. How someone could look so good, in general, was lost on him.

"You're too sweet to think of me," she replied, waiting a brief second before grabbing the bag from his hands. Her smile, broad and blinding and nothing short of beautiful, was going to be a problem. Oscar noted it. "You should've waited until you got here to tell me about the McLaren thing," her words were muffled by the croissant she was devouring, "I've been stressing all morning."

Oscar was laughing now as he took off his sweatshirt. Some parts of teenage Yn who was survived after all those years struggled not to look, thinking not of James but of her absolute lack of professionalism. Not really representing Cromwell & Hendrix all that well, Ln, she could hear her bosses saying in unison.

"I really didn't mean to stress you out." He got a withering look. "Well, I knew it would. But I just really needed to tell someone."

"It's good you told me," Yn conceded. She led Oscar to her kitchen island, leaning against it while he took the seat. When he saw the island, he stopped in his tracks, continuing a moment after, cautious this time. "I am your contract lawyer, after all. Better you tell me than do something stupid."

Oscar reached across for the bag. "You don't have to keep reminding me," he mentioned, eyes zeroed in on his pastry.

Crossing her arms around her chest, Yn asked, "Remind you of what?"

"I know you're my lawyer," he almost sounded annoyed, if Yn couldn't tell any better, "you don't need to remind me."

oscarpiastri posted a story! playing she's always a woman - billy joel

oscarpiastri When your lawyer is too stressed so you buy her flowers and croissants!

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user6 oh so they're in love!

user7 the billy joel song 😩

yn.ln thank you oscarrrr

oscarpiastri you deserve way more

lando OH who's this?

user8 i hope yn's boyfriend doesn't see this...

yn.ln

liked by estebanocon, user8, and 4,981 others

yn.ln this is so not my scene, but look at oscar!

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oscarpiastri Did I approve this photo?

yn.ln as your lawyer, i have the right to do whatever i want

oscarpiastri ...i don't know about that

yn.ln that's why i'm the lawyer and you're not

user9 i'm so glad she went to the red bull ring, that's the best race

yn.ln hope oscar wins it some time!

estebanocon It was so nice to meet you!

yn.ln you too!!!! (your girlfriend might be the loml)

hattiepiastri had the best time with you yn 🫶

yn.ln my favorite piastriiii

oscarpiastri conflict of interest...?

jameskcohen You probably distracted the drivers

yn.ln 3 DNFs, they were too busy appreciating my beauty

jameskcohen Who wouldn't? liked by author

july 15th, 2022 - 21:40

The knocks were loud. Loud.

"I've got it," James said, kissing Yn on the top of her head before pulling off the blanket and heading to the door. He took the bowl of popcorn with him, Yn tossing a throw pillow after him for the

"Did we invite someone over?" she asked from the couch. "It's not usually our thing, to have company so late." It had been an incredibly long day at work. The company was dealing with a major assault case that, apart from being time-consuming, was difficult to live with. James was especially busy, his own business trying to die down major deals with Japanese tech companies. Finally, after two weeks of missing each other and failing to actually talk due to time differences, the two finally had time to just sit down and continue their binge watch of Love Island UK. No way did they invite someone over.

"It's not my thing," James replied, his voice flat. Walking back, behind him was Oscar. Oh. From the way James had leaned against the wall, arms crossed, legs crossed, the slightest crease between his eyebrows, Yn knew what conversation to expect later.

"I'm so sorry for coming over, Yn," Oscar pled, stealing a glance at James, then another and then yet another. "I've just been losing my mind about this McLaren stuff. Otmar keeps coming up to me to talk about my contract for next season and I don't know what to do."

Before she could answer, James butted in, "You tell him to speak to your attorney." The way he answered, simple and concise, without any expected trail of disdain, had Yn cocking her head in confusion.

"What?" she and Oscar asked in unison. Although, his question was genuinely about the answer while hers was about her boyfriend's seeming change of heart.

"He can't pressure you to sign anything or discuss anything without your lawyer present," James added, pushing himself off the wall and walking closer to the two. "He has Yn's number, I assume," he waited for Yn's nod of confirmation, "so there's no reason for him to insist on talking solely with you. If anything, I think it just means he's nervous and wants you to sign something that your legal counsel might advise you against."

"He keeps mentioning some implied contract stuff, which I'm sure he got from his lawyers, but it's still stressing me out. I heard that Fernando might be leaving as well, so maybe that's what's causing this focus on me?" Yn and James shared a look.

"Okay, well if that's the case," said Yn as she reached for her computer and glasses, placed hazardously on the table, "we've got some work to do. The contract with McLaren itself was pretty cut and dry, but that was before Alpine wanted you as their second driver."

"We don't actually know yet if--"

James clapped his hand on Oscar's back, only a little stronger than Yn would've liked, "Trust me, bro. They do."

"James, if they brought up implied contracts..." Yn trailed off. Not quite the most comforting thing for your lawyer to do, but Oscar fiddled with his hands to avoid saying anything.

"Yep, already on it," James replied, saluting jokingly before rushing off somewhere. There was a sliding door separating the couple's living room from the more intimate parts of their flat. Oscar was trying not to waste his minimal energy at being angry about James having the ability to go past that door. Yn began typing furiously, and between that and James running back, his own computer, among many papers, in his hands, Oscar had no idea what to pay attention to. Pretty quickly, the couple was working in synchronicity, conversing about legal matters without ever fully needing to verbalize their thoughts.

Oscar just stared at James. The guy was good-looking, yeah. Smart, clearly. Jealousy was a fickle feeling to manage, especially for an F1 driver. Sometimes, knowing when to let the floodgates of envy open can be just as masterful a skill as having prime race pace. He was never really a jealous guy. He kept to himself, did what he had to do, got what he deserved. But here was James, who could read Yn's mind and, more importantly, have his mind read by Yn, and suddenly all of that well-crafted composure and self-assuredness Oscar had was fading into obsessive obscurity. And all he had was 2019.

Five minutes passed, Yn and James having paid no attention to Oscar during said time. They spoke about him, as if he weren't there, and kept repeating the phrase, "Sending right now. Refresh." A part of Oscar wanted to throw a vase, scream, pull out a computer of his own, just to see if he could get their attention back. It didn't seem possible. He sat down next to Yn, pushing the blanket over the parts of her legs that were uncovered. Vase be damned, that was enough to get at least James to look up.

jameskcohen

liked by yn.ln, oscarpiastri, and 1,229 others

jameskcohen my girlfriend and i playing lawyer (tagged yn.ln)

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oscarpiastri Lucky guy

jameskcohen i know.

oscarpiastri Tell Yn I got her tickets to Hungary, 'kay?

august 2nd, 2022 - 9:00

Yesterday had been yet another late night. Well, late night was a bit of an understatement. Alonso's announcement that he was leaving Alpine for Aston Martin confirmed what Oscar and Yn had expected and been gravely worried about. James had been away--back in Osaka, once again for work--so the two had gotten comfortable with meeting at Yn's apartment.

Last night was an exception. James was getting in, so it was Cromwell & Hendrix's fluorescent lit, stuffy yet wide, messy office instead. Yn bought the coffees, Oscar bought the pizza. They spent the first twenty minutes childishly arguing about Yn's cigarettes, specifically where Oscar had hidden them, before a notification from the F1 app reminded them why they were meeting at midnight.

Yn didn't want to ask Oscar how he was so available. How, instead of the hour-long drive, it took him ten minutes to reach her. She knew the answer would be one she couldn't reckon with, one she definitely couldn't tell to James.

James. He'd been so incredibly understanding, way more than Yn would've originally bet on. Hell, he'd even helped with the implied contracts and employment law. Whatever this thing with Oscar was--this thing that had long ago breached the thin line of professionalism--it was a shitty hand for James to be dealt. Yn kept telling him that once they announced it, once the i's were dotted and the t's crossed, she would be all his. Both of them knew it wasn't true. But then again, this system of veiled non-truths and hidden messages had been working. Yn and James both agreed on that.

Oscar wasn't exactly helping matters. Yn couldn't say anything, resigning herself to raised eyebrows, scoffs, and head shakes. Mentioning 2019 wouldn't be helpful to anyone. At least this situation settled any regrets she had about choosing contract law--she would've been abhorrently bad at mediation. Oscar's recent comment on James' post hadn't yet been discussed, but Yn knew she had that to look forward to.

Cut to the morning of July 2nd. Having slept at the office--where waking up alone had been all too reminiscent of early college years of one-night-stands--she hurried back to her apartment, already knowing she had no chance of making it to work on time (not unless she wanted to sacrifice a shower).

Her keys jingled as she unlocked the door, bracing herself for James' words. God, she just knew what he was going to say. In some strange ways, that made it worse. Where have you been? Were you with him? We might be new to this law thing but I don't think anyone spends the night with their client, experienced or not? However, the wall of words and arguments wasn't yet built as she walked through the door.

"Hello?" she asked, wondering at this point if James was even home at all.

"You were supposed to pick me up from the airport," her boyfriend said, voice monotone and plain. Fuck.

"Oh my god, James, I am so sorry," Yn began pointlessly, knowing no amount of unimportant apologies would matter.

"Yn, just," he rubbed his red eyes, the lack of sleep evident on his handsome face, "just tell me if you were with him." James looked up at her, an act that so understandably required force. He couldn't even bring himself to do it. So Yn couldn't either. She gently dropped her bag onto the floor, not breaking eye contact. "Jesus."

"James--"

"Just, don't. Don't, okay? It's been two months of me being patient and understanding to a level I fucking know you wouldn't be. I've been acting like a moron, like I'm okay with my girlfriend having her old boyfriend over at our flat. You've been running around, lying to me, and I've been taking it. Okay, Yn, I've been ready to forgive. Fucking excited even. But that was when I thought this was going to end. At some fucking point."

Ping.

Fuck. Again.

"What is it?" James questioned, annoyed at the thought of even having to ask.

"It's- nothing, it's just- work," Yn stumbled, willing herself to put the phone away but struggling to make her body listen.

"Let me guess," he put his hands on his hips. "It's Oscar, with some crazy important news that you just have to attend to right now."

"James, I promise we can talk about this, but I have to go deal with this."

"Fucking typical."

"It's really important."

He laughed. "You work in contracts, Yn," he emphasized. "Nothing can be that fucking important." With that, James grabbed his still unpacked suitcase and just left.

I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS FIC/SERIES. ANON, i think i owe you my first born. this idea is so cool and so fun and i LOVE law so it's just my niches, all tied into one nice package. lowk this chapter was a ton of exposition but TRUST, your girl has a plan. are yn and oscar lowk cheating? yeah sorta... but they're not perfect. that way is more fun. anyway, hope you guys like! drop predictions about what you think'll happen, give me criticism, or just say hi in the comments!

tagged: @lovergirl0681

[shortnfreaky]

hi hope i’m doing this request thing right lol

actually anything with johnny storm would be fantastic cause i’m starving (pun intended) but what about it’s the first time reader (his so/crush/etc) is joining them for their sunday family dinner 🩵🫶

ೃ⁀➷ ⋆·˚ ༘ * ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ ⋆·˚ ༘ * ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ ⋆·˚ ༘ * ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

a/n: love this, can't wait for more johnny requests and all the fics starting to pop up

warnings: fem!reader

masterlist ✶ requests are open!

Welcome to the Family

You fiddled with the sleeves of your sweater, walking down cold streets of New York, Johnny right by your side. He took notice.

"Hey, look at me." He says, stopping right in front of the Fantastic Four's tower.

You stopped in your tracks, turning your head to look at him. Johnny grabbed both of your hands. "You don't have anything to be nervous about, alright? They're going to love you, I know it." He speaks, looking you right in the eyes as he rubs your hands.

You nod, offering your boyfriend a small smile, "I know, I just think I have the jitters."

"You're gonna do great, c'mon." Johnny smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek before leading you into the tower.

You followed him, stepping into the elevator as he pressed the buttons. "Sue can't wait to meet you." Johnny told you.

"Really?" You smiled. Johnny nodded, giving your hand a squeeze before the elevator door opened.

The two of you stepped out, you followed Johnny to the dining room, where the rest of the team sat waiting for your arrival.

"Guys, I'd like to finally introduce you to y/n." Johnny said proudly, an arm slung around your shoulder.

"It's wonderful to finally meet you all." You waved nervously.

Sue was the first to jump up, baby Franklin perched on her hip. She passed him to Johnny before giving you a hug. "Johnny talks about you all the time, he never stops." Sue snickers.

Johnny sends her that signature annoyed little brother glare. She just laughs it off. Sue then turns her attention to the baby whom Jonny was still holding. "This is Franklin." Sue smiled, booping her son's nose. You smile, shaking his tiny hand, which makes him giggle.

"This is my husband Reed." Sue says, gesturing towards the man. Reed comes to shake your hand, "It's nice to meet you." He says.

"Don't him bore you too much with all his nerd talk" Johnny smirks, earning a glare from Reed.

You lightly slap Johnny on the shoulder, "He'll be fine." You lightly scold your boyfriend, rolling you eyes playfully.

"Hey, I like her already." Reed chuckles.

Sue continues on with her introductions, "This is Ben."

"It's nice to finally have someone to keep Johnny out of my hair." Ben jokes, nudging Johnny in the shoulder.

"Last, but certainly not least, this is H.E.R.B.I.E." Sue speaks.

The little robot waves at you from behind the kitchen counter, speaking in beeps and boops that you didn't quite understand, but knew that someday soon you'd begin to learn.

"And that's the whole family. I hope spaghetti's alright, it's H.E.R.B.I.E's signature." Sue finished.

"Sounds perfect to me." You tell her.

"Great! Then let's all sit down." She smiles.

"Yeah, I'm starving." Johnny says as he puts Franklin in his highchair.

You take your seat at the dinner table next to Johnny. You all spent the entire dinner getting to know one another. Not once did it ever feel awkward or tense, they made you feel like you were already apart of the family, like you were right at home. After everyone finished dinner, you all sat in the living room, still talking. But, after about an hour Johnny checked his watch, noticing that it was getting late.

"We should probably head out, it's getting late and I still got to walk her home. Plus, I think it's about this little nugget's bedtime." Johnny spoke, tickling Franklin.

"Why don't you just stay the night, y/n?" Sue offers with a warm smile.

"Oh, I'd love to if that okay with you all. I didn't bring any change of clothes though." You frowned.

"That's no problem, you can just borrow a pair of my pajamas for the night." She spoke.

"H.E.R.B.I.E, do you mind showing y/n where Sue's closet is and helping her?" Reed asked.

The robot nodded, before gesturing for you to follow him. You told Sue and Reed a quick "thank you" before following H.E.R.B.I.E.

"Okay buddy, I think uncle Johnny is right, it's your bedtime." Reed smiles, as he picks up his son.

"I'll be up there in a minute." Sue whispered, giving her husband and son a quick kiss.

"I think its time for me to head in too, but your girlfriend is definitely a keeper." Ben yawned, giving Johnny a firm pat on the shoulder before walking towards his room.

"Well, what do you think, sis?" Johnny asked.

"I love her, she feels like apart of the family already." Sue grinned.

"I told her you'd love her. She was so nervous." He chuckled.

"I hear wedding bells in the future." Sue spoke in a sing-song voice.

"Well, I better go find her and show her where my room is. We'll see you all in the morning." He spoke, before heading down the hallway.

Johnny's heart was so full. He had a girl he was crazy about, and his family was equally crazy about her too.

[spiderb00bs]

- YOU, T.C

"you would do anything to keep Tara safe. Anything to keep her with you"

warning - smut +18 MDNI, reader is insane! reader is literally a murderer. Inspired by Joe Goldberg and Love Quinn.

now paying - Piece of you, by Shawn Mendes

"what you put in the air? Idon't wanna share"

The streets were deserted, the sound of cars seemed distant, some lampposts flickered or had dim lighting, and the alleys on each street looked terrifying.

The sound of footsteps was heard, very close to where you were. Staying alert, you watched for a while, the silhouette of the man getting closer and closer to you. Looking from side to side, he stopped walking, quickly reaching for his phone in his back pocket and quickly typing.

Are u here yet? This street seems really weird, ngl

The response came quickly, almost as if had already known that the man would try to contact.

I still don't see u. Are u sure this is the right street?

Snorting, the man pressed the contact, put the phone to his ear, and waited for the person to answer the call. “Stupid bitch, she can't even give the right directions.”

When the person on the other end of the line answered, the man's voice softened.

Fake. A poorly placed mask.

“Hi, Tara. So, can you give me the directions again? Just so I can be sure, you know?!” Rolling his eyes, the man continued on his way down the street.

The footsteps were getting closer to you, faster than before. The sighs the man let out on the phone made you think he wasn't happy.

“Tara, are you there? Seriously, this isn't funny!”

Still no answer, the man stopped walking again, his back to an alley that connected two streets. If Tara had really taken the wrong street, all he had to do was enter the alley and finally find Tara Carpenter.

But suddenly, a slight static was heard on the other end of the line, almost as if the person was speaking from a radio. The hairs on the back of the man's neck stood on end and he shifted impatiently.

“What the fuck is this, Carpenter?” The sentence was interrupted when a hand wearing a black glove covered his mouth.

“It's not Tara...”

The playful— sinister—voice made the man struggle, trying to turn around in the arms of the person who was holding him. His efforts were futile, his body hit the ground in seconds, and he could finally scream for help—now that he no longer felt the weight of the hand over his mouth.

“Yn?” The scream didn't come out, just the low whisper of a very familiar name.

A name that sent shivers down people's spines, whether in a good or bad way. The name that everyone knew they shouldn't touch. That popular girl on campus, that girl who protected what was hers at all costs.

Tara was hers.

And this man had tried to touch her.

“Jason, you shouldn't be looking for my girlfriend...” The calm voice made the man's heart race, the hairs on her body standing on end as tears began to well up in her eyes. “What were you planning to do?”

The question made the man swallow hard. He was alone with you in a dark alley, and he was terrified of what might happen next. You didn't exactly look like Tara. No, you were tall, part of the college wrestling team, and well-muscled. You were popular, and you were a sweetheart, but only to those who didn't threaten to touch what was yours.

“She asked me out! I swear!” The man spat out the words nervously. Trying at all costs to get out of that situation without getting beaten up.

Laughing, you crouched down beside him, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him close to you.

“Jason... I know everything that happens in that building. You know, I was never very popular in high school. And when I got into college, I swore I would do everything differently than I did in Woodsboro.” The expression on your face was grim, and for the first time in years, Jason was truly afraid.

“But here, I have many friends.” You pulled your phone out of your pocket, sliding your fingers across the screen while continuing to hold the trembling man with your other hand. “You can’t trust anyone these days, Jason.”

When your fingers pressed the play button, a recording began to play, the faint sound of movement was picked up, but Jason's voice soon filled the dark alley. But this time, it was more muffled, more strange.

Recorded. “She's fucking hot, I'm not going to let this one get away.” His friends were laughing in the background, almost as if they were entertaining him, only for it all to come back to you. “She's a little slut! I only had to look at her once during class and she sent me a message like a whore desperate for dick.”

The laughter, the tone he used to talk about Tara... it all disgusted you, made you want to spit blood.

Made you want to make him spit his own blood.

“I'm going to meet her today, and then she's going to get fucked like she really should be!” The sound of the cabinets closing indicated that the audio was about to end. But not without the part that made you thirsty for blood the most. “After I'm done with her, she'll dump that bitch girlfriend of hers, and she'll want my dick forever!”

The recording finally ended with background noise. Jaden's eyes were wide, his breathing was heavy, and his heart was racing. He has no idea who leaked this audio, or what you're going to do with it, but all he can think about is how he could escape from there.

“I'm sorry! I regret saying that. Come on, man, Tara texted me, I just thought I could get lucky...” His words sounded nervous.

And you laughed.

“She didn't text you, you idiot.” Looking him in the eye, you didn't wait another minute.

Pulling the knife hidden in your jacket, you plunged the blade into his stomach, enjoying the look of horror that quickly formed on the man's face.

“I did.”

Screaming, the man kicked you off him, his kick hitting you squarely in the nose and causing you to retreat a little. You didn't even have time to fully recover when you caught a glimpse of Jason crawling on the floor.

Laughing, your hand reached for the knife—which had fallen beside you. Wiping the blood that was dripping from your nose, you got up, walking slowly toward the body that was trying to crawl away.

“Ah, you little shit. Where are you going?” Approaching, you scraped the tip of the knife against the bricks of the wall, making Jason's body tremble with fear on the floor. “Even if you manage to escape, who would believe you?” Your laughter echoed through the alley, and for a moment, it seemed like there were only the two of you in the world.

“Oh my god, please! Someone help me, one of the most perfect students in college stabbed me!” The mocking tone in your voice made you laugh at yourself.

Finally tiring, your footsteps caught up with the man before he reached the other side of the alley. Grabbing his feet, you smiled at how fearful and helpless he was.

“Don't go now, Jason. Let's play!”

Getting to your apartment was easy! After disposing of that idiot's body, you took care of everything, getting rid of anything that could point to you and framing one of Jason's former best friends. Not that you thought anyone would come looking for you.

Jason was a twenty-two-year-old man, filthy rich, but with no family nearby. His father was a minor player in real estate who made his money by embezzling funds from NGOs he pretended to help.

He deserved it.

You had already spent too much time with someone as irrelevant and as him. But now you were home, unlocking the door, ready to take a shower and lie down peacefully, finally knowing that your girlfriend was not under any threat.

The apartment was dark when you entered. You left your shoes at the entrance and walked over to a small lamp next to the sofa. However, your heart raced when you saw a small silhouette sitting on the sofa, arms crossed, eerily quiet.

“Baby?” You tried.

“Where were you?” Tara's voice sounded cold, distant.

“I... went for a walk. College is driving me crazy and...” Taking off your jacket, you tried to come up with an excuse as quickly as possible.

“Who did you kill?” Tara remained cold.

“Tara, I don't do that anymore...” Your grip on the jacket fabric tightened.

Looking directly at you, Tara blinked slowly, trying to maintain her composure in front of the person she loved. The same person who brought her breakfast in bed was the same person who stabbed anyone who looked at her too closely.

And Tara knew it.

"That's what you say when you try to convince me. I want the truth." Your fingertips turned white.

“I'm telling the truth.” Failed attempts and lying words.

“If you don't tell me the truth, we're done.” Your eyes widened. “And I'm going to the police.”

Silence reigned in the apartment room for a few seconds. Your mind assimilating everything young Carpenter was saying. Your head felt like it was going to explode, your fingers were starting to go numb, and you swore the fabric of the jacket was tearing in your hands.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” The thud of the jacket thrown on the floor made Tara jump a little in her seat.

She didn't want to show fear, because she didn't feel threatened by you. But she couldn't help being scared when you were out of control.

“I DID IT FOR YOU!” Pointing at Tara, you approached her with long strides, placing each of your hands on the arm of the chair she was sitting in. “I DO EVERYTHING FOR YOU, TARA! WHY CAN'T YOU JUST BE GRATEFUL FOR ONCE!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Tara's voice was low, restrained. She knew the walls weren't that thin, but she still wanted to make sure none of your neighbors heard the shouting. “I told you to stop this. I don't need protection!”

Frowning, you knelt in front of her.

“You didn't say that when we killed Ghostface...” You took one of her hands. “You didn't say that when I protected you from that creep who touched you at that party!” Pressing your lips to the back of her hand, you sighed in defeat.

“I just want to protect you, baby.” Tara saw the tears in your eyes, the same ones she saw every time you two fought.

You're afraid of losing her.

“I want to be useful to you...”

Looking down at you, Tara sighed. The frown was still there, but she was softer than when you entered the apartment.

Tara found out everything about you months ago when she found some things in your apartment. As much as she didn't want to, the feeling of knowing that someone was protecting her—always one step ahead of anyone else—made Tara's heart warm. And when love hit her hard, she couldn't break up with you. She still tried to control your impulses, “no killings unless it's a ghostface, or a real threat.”

But she wasn't exactly doing a good job so far.

“Do you want to be useful?” You nodded hastily. Desperate to earn your girlfriend'

s forgiveness once again.

Tara's bare foot pushed your right shoulder, spreading her legs, the woman pulled her skirt up to her waist, piling the fabric there while you had the view.

“Try to do something worthwhile and get to work.”

Tara wasn't wearing panties. Ready for you, the younger Carpenter was wet, dripping. Her body seemed to call out to you, and knowing that you had almost ruined everything made your heart skip a beat. She had probably gone to surprise you, but when she didn't find you at home, she figured you had gone back to your old habits—which you had never really abandoned.

Holding Tara's thighs, you looked into her eyes, enjoying how beautiful your girlfriend looked when she was all excited for you.

Just for you.

“Hurry up, baby. Or I won't forgive you...” Tara's voice was urgent, and you widened your eyes.

Diving into your girlfriend, you moaned along with her. Tara tasted wonderful, and as much as you couldn't say it out loud, her taste after a job well done was like having a little piece of heaven.

Your tongue worked on her, doing a great job seeing how loud she was moaning. Tara's hands moved, grabbing your hair just to pull you closer.

“Damn, I can never get mad at you.” The woman's words came out between gasps of pleasure that insisted on escaping her mouth. "I love you, I love you, I love you.

Lifting your head, you let your fingers work on her clit, just so your mouth could gently kiss her thighs. Tara could see the glisten of her excitement on your chin and lips. And that, with your fingers, and the way you were practically worshipping her, made her core tremble.

“I love you, Tara. Everything I do is for you.” Your eyes were clouded with pleasure, but not as much as your girlfriend's.

The sensations you were causing inside her, the way you protect her, everything about you seems perfectly destructible, sensitive, about to go wrong.

A catastrophe.

That's how Tara felt. Her legs trembled when the knot in her stomach finally untangled. You were the cause of it all, you made her legs tremble like that, as well as her world. You were a storm that Tara couldn't control, at least not 100%. And as much as it scared her, she loved everything about you.

She loved you.

Only you.

Forever,

You.

Okay, that's just a little bit of what I was thinking. I still have a few ideas, so maybe later I'll do a part two of this.

Speaking of part two, I'm already working on Manchild, I'm trying to put a little humor in this second part too, so I'm still laying the groundwork.

Anyway, I hope you're all doing well, drink water and stay safe,

xoxo, spider.

[saikenakoego]

Again, demonization. It was either that or let L continue alone. Which, as Light proved, would have made killing him much more easy. Meaning Kira would have won, meaning many more people would have died. Did they know this? No. Was it a possibility? Yes, as even L admitted he needed their help, even if it was a deceitful statement.

So it was either let Kira win or help L. Not much of a choice to make there. Someone had to do something about it, otherwise it would have just been both conformism and complicity by omission.

In the end, L died anyway, so there wasn't even a way to hold him accountable save for the fact that he literally put his own life on the line, willingly, to stop a serial murderer. Does that clear him of his crimes? Not really, but he kinda payed the ultimate price, and he did it with the hope that it would stop more people from being murdered.

Same with the Kira Task Force. They put their own lives on the line to try and stop him, because it was either that or let Kira continue to make the world his playground.

Light, again, was merely a person with ambition AND he did have a moral compass, because as I said, he was horrified with his actions and KNEW there was no coming back, which pushed him into a downwards spiral and the only way he knew how to cope was to delude himself into thinking he was right. So yeah, he kind of did get corrupted.

Was Light kind of a jerk from the start? Yeah, he wasn't very pleasant. But if he was as corrupted as his future self, he would've been killing from much earlier like BB did. No magic stuff, no supernatural ploys, just him and hiding evidence.

Light was handed absolute power, had a taste of it, and became more and more corrupted by its promises that he could do whatever he wanted and never get caught because the Death Note allowed him to do so. He even says it himself, askig why Ryuk chose him. He was aware that he would never have done any of what he did if it weren't for the Death Note. Even if Ryuk didn't even choose him in the first place, he was deluding himself to think that it was destiny, otherwise he would have had to bear with the weight of his own sins.

As with Tooru, he was willing to sell it to both get money for himself (self-serving), and for the japanese populace as a whole (selfless, with a tone of narcissism). But he was willing to do so by selling it to the president of the US, who was 100% willing to use it for selfish reasons and would have led to a lot of people suffering even if nobody was killed.

The threat of a weapon that can kill anyone anywhere at any moment in mere seconds and cannot be stopped is a big enough threat to make any person comply with your political demands, after all.

But Tooru didn't care about that, as long as he got the money. He even said it himself, didn't matter the buyer as long as they could buy it and didn't ask too many questions.

Tooru saw a form to win easy money, deluded himself into thinking it was morally okay if he also gave a lot of money to other people in his community (which doubled as a cover for his own withdrawal), and just sold it to the highest bidder.

He didn't even know of the 'buyer and seller of the death note will die after transaction' rule, as he accepted the money while thinking he had outsmarted the system. But in the end, he was no different from Kira or L, as he was willing to accept easy gains while thinking he was invulnerable to consequences.

All to harken back to Light's own morality. Light knew he was vulnerable to the consequences of his actions, and he understood why they were there. Then a tool to avoid consequences came to him, he tried it, and slowly began to delude himself into thinking he could really get away with anything, becoming more and more egomaniacal in the process but also making more and more mistakes due to his growing insanity.

Light was just a jerk kid who got enabled, and so became more and more corrupted. Had he been morally bankrupt from the start, he would have been doing much, much worse without regard for consequences.

something that will never not be funny to me in dn was the faces Light would make when no one was looking. like if anyone caught him once, the jig was up

[bytemee]

OPERA HOUSE 2 (continued) — yu jimin.

♫ playing… opera house by cigarettes after sex

synopsis. you moved to seoul for school, with barely enough money to cover your rent, a language you were still learning clumsy and slow, and your little sister back home constantly asking you to look out for her favorite idols, as if they’d just show up next to you at a crosswalk.

you weren’t here to chase anything. not fame, not love, not even a dream, really but just something to make it through.

but she found you anyway, and in her mind, without meaning to, she started building something quiet and vast just for you — like an opera house tucked deep in a place no one else could reach, a place no one else would ever know how to find, and she still doesn’t understand why or how or what it was supposed to mean, only that she was meant to love you, and even now, even after everything, she still does.

pairing. idol!karina x collegestudent!fem!reader

genre. romance, slow burn, angst / hurt-comfort, emotional drama.

disclaimer(s). unresolved trauma, ANGST bruh, fluffy too heh, kissing, L translated korean (not a lot dont fear), lot of timeskips, karina wants that cookie so bad dude...and let me know if there's more!

final part guys sorry for the three split 💔

word count. 8.3k

main masterlist. part one. part two.

you start seeing her name in your notifications a little more often, even more often than before, if that was possible. and as the weeks passed, it became normal, somehow. like you were meant to be right here, side by side, making her laugh through the phone, whispering jokes to her under the sheets.

so much so that it feels weird not seeing her number pop up.

a photo of her lunch captioned: "bet u eat like a child"

a voice memo where she tries to sing a song she got stuck in her head and then begins giggling halfwaythrough because she thinks it's embarrassing.

a random fact:

did you know that sea turtles have no teeth?

you didn't. but it was still nice to know.

it's cute how excited she is to share the most trivial details, the things no one else would think twice about. even cuter was how you knew her, all the different parts. you learned a lot, after those months, and they were all quiet discoveries:

her favorite color is blue. she hates coffee. she likes chocolate ice cream. she sings when she brushes her teeth. she always wears the bracelet you fixed the first time you met, no matter where she goes or what the outfit is. she never checks the news but loves listening to old rock bands.

but maybe the most interesting thing you learn about her is

the reason her laugh was always so bright and beautiful wasn't because she had practiced it. it was just who she was. you only wish she saw herself the way you do.

you still have other things going on. group projects, late shifts, laundry, and cramming formulas into your brain for the upcoming midterm. you meet jae for coffee one morning because he complained you've been neglecting him for too long. vivian makes you facetime her because she misses your face. your mother calls again. but still nothing from your dad.

you're there (over the phone) when livi unboxes her new computer. you send her a picture of you smiling, then a shocked face, to which she replies, "ew."

you buy her a coffee. she sends back a sticker of a cat vomiting. you tell her to be grateful.

vivian begs you to help her thrift a look for a '90s-themed party she got dragged into. sora picks up a few night shifts at the bookstore and keeps coming home with niche self-help books that she insists you all read together.

life feels full. almost overflowing, in a way, and it's hard to believe you started this year not sure if you could afford the rent, the gas, the food. but, somehow, it's happening. you're making it happen.

vivan, jae, sora

vivian:

uh oh

it's tuesday

you failed another math quiz didn't you y/n

you:

i didn't fail...

i just didn't pass

jae:

rip

you:

stfu

sora:

hey.

you:

sorry

vivian:

do you guys wanna go get bbq

sora:

omgggg yesss

jae:

yess.

you:

im studying.

vivian:

boring ://

sora:

im sure u can study later

vivian:

can you spare an hour or so???

jae:

she literally failed.

sora:

studying isn't going anywhere.

vivian:

its better late then never tho

you:

im locked in guys. im sorry.

jae:

top 10 worst anime betrayals

you groan and turn your phone face down. you weren't paying all this money to fail.

your phone buzzes.

karina:

i thought you said you'd call me after 8

karina:

but it's already 9

:(

your lips twitch.

you:

well technically 9 is after 8

karina:

(¬_¬")

she's cute.

you feel yourself soften, a familiar warmth spreading inside your chest, and without thinking, you dial her number. you don't even get through the first ring before she picks up.

"hi." her voice is soft, like she was waiting.

you smile, just a little. "hi."

there's a rustling sound on the other end; it sounds like wind. you picture her outside, hair probably tied back, phone pressed to her ear, with one hand shoved into her jacket pocket. "i didn't forget," you say, leaning back in your chair. "i've just been trying to get through this math set."

"mhm." she sounds unconvinced. "did you actually study, or did you just glare at the worksheet for two hours and pretend to absorb it through osmosis?"

"...maybe both."

"thought so."

you run a hand over your face and sigh. "i don't get it. it's like the more i try to cram in, the less i remember. i keep doing this thing where i look at the answer key and then try to reverse-engineer the problem, but that only works for, like... half a second. i'm gonna flunk the final."

she pauses. you hear the wind again, a car door slamming. "...are you outside?" you ask, blinking.

"maybe."

you sit up. "wait. like outside-outside?"

a beat. then, so casually, it makes you freeze: "can you let me in?"

you blink. "what?"

"what?" she echoes, voice light. "i was in the neighborhood."

you push away from your desk, startled, almost knocking over your water bottle. "are you serious—wait, seriously?"

"why would i lie about being outside your house? c'mon, i brought food. let me in before it gets cold."

you scramble up and head toward the door, heart picking up a little, palms suddenly a bit clammy. you can't help it. it's been two and a half weeks since the party. and ever since, all you've done is talk and text and learn everything except how it feels to have her skin under your fingertips and her voice close enough to make your toes curl.

you open the door to the sight of her standing there with a paper bag cradled in her arms and a book tucked under one elbow.

you stare.

she raises a brow. "are you gonna make me stand here in the cold, or—?"

you step back without a word, and she brushes past you. she's in jeans and a simple sweater, hair pulled back. it looks like she came straight from practice, or an interview, or something.

it smells like spring.

you realize, belatedly, that you should probably shut the door. you reach back and lock it. turn around.

"what are you doing here?" you blurt.

she smiles, lifting the bag. "feeding you," she says matter-of-factly, her expression turning mischievous. "unless you already ate? in which case, i'm a fool—"

"no, no." you take a few steps forward. "um, it's fine. i'm—not. eaten."

"okay, good.' cause i didn't, either. so we can eat together."

she kicks off her shoes before walking the familiar path toward your bedroom, setting the food on your desk before eyeing your notes.

you glare. "don't start."

"i'm just saying," she says, dropping her book onto your bed. "it's good that you're trying, but this is actual nonsense. you circled the same number twice and wrote 'why' under it."

you shove the notes aside. "okay, maybe i'm floundering a little."

she smiles—a small, private one—and reaches into the bag. "eat first. you look like you need the fuel, and it'll give you some energy."

"i'm energized."

"you are not. sit."

you do, because when she uses that tone—light but certain—you kind of always do.

she hands you a pair of chopsticks and sits across from you, tucking one leg under the other. for a few minutes, you just eat. the noodles are decent. nothing fancy, just a hole-in-the-wall place down the street, and definitely not the type of food you'd usually share. but the taste is comforting somehow, a familiar mix of garlic and pork.

karina doesn't say anything while you eat, and for a while, the silence is peaceful, almost comforting. it's hard to remember a time when the quiet between the two of you felt heavy, or forced, or unsure.

"thanks," you say eventually. "for coming."

she shrugs. "felt like seeing you."

you nod, swallowing another bite. "i wasn't sure when that would happen."

she pauses.

"you think about things too much, y/n."

she lifts a piece of chicken and blows on it lightly, waiting.

you're not sure what to say. it's not as if the thought hadn't crossed your mind. how you both danced around it for the past few weeks. her being busy, her group getting new schedules, you dealing with work.

there were days when you wondered if she was having second thoughts or if something happened, or even if you made things awkward or weird.

"sometimes," she adds quietly, like she can sense the way you're spiraling. "i forget we live in the same city."

your laugh comes out shaky. "we're both pretty busy people."

she takes a bite. chews. swallows. "mm," she hums. then: "that doesn't mean i don't want to see you." she looks up, and her eyes are dark and sincere.

you exhale slowly, trying to ignore the rush of warmth, and nod. "okay."

karina chews. swallows. brings her bowl closer. "how have you been?"

you lift a shoulder. "okay. school is kicking my ass. sora keeps finding me books, so."

"any more life-changing ones?"

"nope, just self-help. they all sound like they were written by the same person."

"but useful?"

you make a face. "if you consider self-help useful."

"which i do, for the most part. some of those things aren't always obvious. sometimes they're not easy, either."

her voice trails off, her gaze falling down again.

"hm," is all you say before you lean in slightly, tilting your head. "what's that book?"

she looks confused and then looks at where you point.

"oh. this?" she sets her bowl down. picks up the thick book beside her; it looks fresh, brand new almost. "i've been practicing it too," she says, tapping the cover with her finger.

"it's a math book," she adds, "i wanted to help you study."

you blink. "you study... math. in your spare time... because of me? why?"

"because you said you were bad at it."

"i didn't—" you pause. "well, yeah, i did, but..."

"so here's the plan. we can practice the chapters, and you'll get better. and then you'll ace your final and not have to retake the class. win-win, right?"

you hesitate. "karina, that's not—this is the rest of your day, not to mention your week—"

she rolls her eyes. "y/n," she murmurs, running a fingertip over the spine of the book, looking amused.

"what?"

"i want to."

your mouth snaps shut. "okay," you manage to say.

"okay," she echoes.

for a moment, the two of you stare at each other.

then she cracks a smile. small, a little smug. "you're kind of cute when you short-circuit."

you groan, covering your face with one hand. "don't say that."

"i'm serious," she teases, nudging your leg with hers under the table. "all flustered and grateful."

"i'm not flustered."

"you're definitely grateful, though."

that makes you glance up. she's grinning now, chopsticks dangling loosely in her hand, hair a little messy. you set your bowl aside and leave your spot on the bed to sit at your desk. "so what, you're my tutor now?"

"sure," she says. "honorary tutor-slash-moral support-slash-food delivery. add that to my resume."

you stifle a smile. "you're going to regret this."

"no, i won't." she gives you a look.

you get through two questions, both wrong, and you swear under your breath, about to scribble them out, but karina's already standing.

she comes over quietly, reaching past you to point something out on the paper, her necklace swinging forward, her hair brushing your shoulder like a whisper. "okay, wait," she says, kneeling beside your chair, eyes narrowing at the problem.

"try walking me through it. just say what you're thinking." you hesitate mostly because you're not sure if you're thinking anything at all—but she waits patiently, tilting her head a little, close enough that her knee bumps yours. and so, slowly, you try again. she doesn't interrupt.

she's always been a good listener, anyway, which makes this whole thing feel a lot easier.

and when you finally get one right—one stupid, simple problem that's been tripping you up all week—karina turns to you with a grin like you just solved world hunger and leans in to press a kiss into the corner of your mouth without warning.

"that was real tutor behavior," she says. "ten points to you."

"you didn't say there'd be kisses involved," you mutter, flustered, but not pulling away.

she shrugs like it's nothing. "it's how i motivate my students."

another half-hour passes like that, the math problems growing more complicated, her instructions more thorough, and your professors lectures being the missing puzzle piece to make them click.

at some point she huffs, clearly bored of hovering over your shoulder, and without much warning, she plops herself down into your lap.

you go still, pencil frozen in midair, and karina just smirks, arms looping lazily around your neck as she leans into you, peering down at the next problem. "relax," she murmurs, adjusting her weight slightly, your heartbeat now obnoxiously loud in your ears.

there was no way in hell you were gonna be able to relax.

"you're ridiculous," you say, voice too thin to carry any real bite, and she hums innocently, fingers tracing aimless circles on your back while you try—and fail—to solve the equation in front of you.

when the numbers start blurring together, you groan and push the worksheet aside, and karina makes a noise of protest.

"i can't." you lean back. "it's over. the universe has decided."

she sighs, exaggerated and dramatic, like she's disappointed in you—but there's a smile tugging at her lips, betraying the fact that she's not really upset at all. "you barely lasted thirty minutes," she teases, poking you.

"i lasted longer than i thought i would," you mutter, your hands settling instinctively on her hips, keeping her close.

"what's that supposed to mean?"

"you're distracting. in a good way," you add, smiling faintly. "but still... a distraction."

"how can someone studying math be distracting?"

"you're literally sitting in my lap right now, and yet, here we are."

her nose crinkles. "touché," she whispers, glancing at the textbook and then back at you. her thumb brushes along your jaw, featherlight, her touch lingering, and the air shifts, softens.

she smells like lavender, or something warm and sweet, and your brain feels sluggish, too focused on the way she looks.

she seems to notice your stare.

"what's wrong?"

"nothing."

you lift a hand, brushing the pad of your thumb lightly over her cheek, watching the color rise under your touch, her eyelashes dipping low, a question in her expression.

"can i?" you murmur.

a quiet beat. then she nods.

you brush her bangs back, a gentle, sweeping touch that makes her exhale, eyes fluttering shut. when they open, her gaze is heavy.

"hi," you say softly.

the smile she gives you is the softest thing.

"hi."

you lean in and catch her mouth. she lets out a little breath, her hands finding your shoulders, and her grip tightens when you slide your tongue past her teeth, slow, achingly careful.

her hair spills forward, framing her face. her hands are trembling, sliding from your collarbones down, then up, until they frame the sides of your neck. you part, breathe, and then find each other again, the kiss deeper and hotter this time, almost dizzying.

your head spins, and you feel her melt, a rush of warmth that sends a jolt straight to your spine. you let your hand travel, slow and tentative, drifting over the curve of her waist before dipping beneath the hem of her sweater.

"y/n," she murmurs after the fifth or sixth kiss, and you hum a reply, sliding a hand down her spine and making her shudder.

"yeah?"

you hear her swallow, feel the tremble of her ribcage, and the frantic pace of her heartbeat.

"i like being in your presence," she says, words ghosting over the edge of your lips.

your throat goes dry. "mm. is that all?"

"i think about you all the time," she adds quietly, like she can hardly bring herself to say it. "i miss you when we're apart. even when i'm not aware."

the heat that crawls up the back of your neck has nothing to do with embarrassment.

you look down.

she takes a slow inhale.

"so yeah," she continues, a hint of humor in her voice. "it's kind of annoying, actually. i like all of you—even the you that's horrible at math."

you let out a dry laugh, switching to english with your accent thick in your next words, more noticeable when you're caught off guard. "that's real cute comin' from someone who hasn't touched a calculator since high school."

"oh my god," she breathes, and then she's laughing for real, head falling against your shoulder. "you're lucky i like your accent."

you switch back to korean, a childlike grin on your face. "that's crazy. no one likes my accent."

"well, i do."

she smiles, and her dimple appears. you don't resist the urge to trace it with the tip of your index finger.

"good," you say.

⭑𓂃

karina, somewhere far away in the haze of a comeback prep she's too tired to process, thinks about the opera house.

not a literal one. it's this image that keeps coming to her when her eyes close during the five-minute breaks between dance practices or when the vocal booth grows quiet and nobody realizes she's still standing in there, headphones limp around her neck.

a tall, aching structure. white stone. aged wood. wrapped in vines, dripping in green. built deep in the jungle. far, far away from lights and lenses. somewhere no one else would go unless she led them there.

in her head, she imagines the performance meant for only one person. an entire orchestra hidden in the trees. every note, every high note, every breath—it would be for you.

because that's what you do to her. make her want to build beautiful, impossible things in the middle of nowhere.

just to prove she means it.

just to show she loves you.

but lately, she hasn't seen you. or maybe she has, but not in the same way or for the right amount of time. she's never really seen you spiral before. you always seem to have everything together, and the rare moment you don't, you push through it to the point it looks as though it was just a blip on the radar.

she knew the first semester would be hard; the workload was not a walk in the park, and the expectations were different than anything either of you had dealt with before. but she also knows you well enough by now that she recognizes the way your mouth thins when something doesn't come easy and the tension you get in your shoulders when you're not satisfied.

and in your head it starts off small. a call from home, livi asking for money because apparently the monthly stipend mom gives isn't enough. and even though it stings, even though the bank app gives you a long pause, you say yes.

you don't tell anyone, not even livi, that the cost ate through most of what you'd put aside for tuition. that it was supposed to cover january's payments.

you tell yourself you'll figure it out later. but you stop eating out with your roommates. you cut a few corners where you can. the coffee cart becomes a staple. your favorite foods slowly disappear. you're quieter in the group chat. you leave your room less.

vivian notices first. she offers you part of her sandwich after class. you shake your head.

jae stops calling you annoying. that's how you know it's bad.

sora finds you in the library. says she got extra free tickets for the aquarium. wants to know if you'll come with.

you shake your head. tell her the usual: work, midterm, stress.

she leaves a book. "what's this?"

"meditation for dummies. don't give me that look. just read the introduction."

"are you implying i'm a dummy?"

she smiles, soft, knowing. "of course not. just... consider it, okay? i promise you'll like it."

you nod, swallowing.

she's a good friend.

karina hasn't texted in two days, and you don't blame her. you've been dry. too distant for a girlfriend. you didn't mean to be; it just happened.

the last thing you sent her was a thumbs-up. you hate yourself for it.

but she's been busy. so have you. so has everyone. it just feels like there aren't enough hours in a day anymore and the ones you do have are spent thinking about the debt building up or the assignments you should probably start or the rent bill or—

karina's sitting on the floor of the practice room with her hair tied up and shoes kicked off when livi calls her.

it wasn't unusual. the two actually spoke.

sometimes about you, sometimes not.

the call starts off casual. karina asks her about school, about the dance team, about her new favorite drama and what the characters are like, and what sort of books she's reading these days. livi responds easily, talking about the boy she likes and the dumb stuff they pull to catch each other's attention.

but then her voice drops, quieter, hesitant, almost, and it's such a sharp change in tone, such a drastic contrast, that karina knows something's wrong.

"jimin."

"hm."

"you've talked to her recently, yeah? is everything okay? she sounds..."

her voice trails off, her next words carefully picked.

"...busy."

there's a beat. a sigh, then: "i'm not sure."

"did she mention anything? y'know, like, a rough day, or—"

karina swallows, and the silence is too long. "not... really. i'm sure it's fine," she murmurs, not sounding sure at all.

"hm," is all livi says, and the conversation changes topic.

karina spends the next hour wondering why her stomach is twisted, why her hands are a little clammy, and why her chest is a bit heavy.

then, it hits her:

fear.

it was fear, and it was irrational and stupid and unhelpful, but the truth is, karina hadn't spoken to you since yesterday.

well, technically. you both had. she called. you picked up. then, you were quick. rushed. almost tense.

and she hated how fast the whole conversation was, the distance, and the strange coldness to it, and so, after you hung up, she sat down in the studio and started staring at the wall and wishing she could rewind time, somehow, back to a moment when things were easy and she hadn't ruined everything yet.

the next morning, karina's summoned into a company meeting, walking out wishing she hadn't shown up at all.

the conversation was so rehearsed to the point her manager didn't even meet her eyes.

karina doesn't react. she simply nods, letting her ears ring, feeling the words wash over her and sink into her skin.

they explain, clearly, with the least amount of emotion that they can muster.

she wants to ask, how long? or is it forever? should she even get her hopes up?

but she knows the answers and doesn't ask.

they end the meeting and leave without a word.

a minute passes. then two.

when the door clicks shut, karina's lips twitch. she feels a laugh bubbling up, hysterical and disbelieving, and she bites the inside of her cheek until it hurts, her face going blank and her body turning numb.

she doesn't text you. she doesn't trust herself not to say something too raw.

you don't text her. don't even tell her you're going home for christmas. in some ways, maybe you were trying to spare her from your... drought or whatever, and in other ways, maybe you just didn't face whatever's happening between the two of you.

the air feels colder inside your childhood house than it does outside. your parents speak like strangers, and your sister doesn't make a single noise, which is worse than any argument, any slammed door, any raised voices.

livi's curled up in the armchair with a blanket pulled to her chin, her eyes on the tv but not really watching. an old christmas movie plays in the background. mom sits by the fireplace, flipping through an issue of her latest obsession—an art magazine—and dad is making a cup of coffee, his movements mechanical.

the clock ticks. no one looks at each other.

"when are we going to open presents?"

livi finally speaks up. her eyes flicker toward yours, and you realize this is the first thing she's said directly to you all morning.

dad sets his mug on the counter. "i'm not sure."

mom frowns. "we're supposed to wait."

livi shoots her a look. "wait for who, the queen?"

"livia," your mom sighs, the same way she always does. "please."

livi's silent again.

"maybe we can do it later," your dad says, after a long, tense pause.

mom doesn't seem happy about it, but she doesn't fight, and livi seems to be satisfied enough, so the silence resumes, and you feel like you could die.

later, as you walk upstairs, someone's hand wraps around your wrist. you turn. livi.

"can we talk?"

"is this an intervention, or—?"

she gives you a flat stare. "very funny," she mutters, before walking into her room and expecting you to follow.

you hesitate, before shutting the door behind you, a bit nervously.

she's still for a few moments. the wind howls. and then she's spinning on her heel, looking right at you, her jaw clenched.

"what's wrong?" she demands.

"i could ask you the same thing."

"something's bothering you. tell me."

"it's not a big deal."

"don't."

your expression tightens. "livi," you mutter.

"this is exactly what you did last time," she continues, her voice hard. "last year. i saw how sad you were, how distant you were. like something was eating away at you, and no matter how much i asked, or tried to get close to you, or call you it wasn't enough. i saw it. i didn't understand. but now you're doing the same thing."

you swallow, not responding.

"you've been quiet and... distant. ever since you got here, you've barely looked at anyone, not even me, and it's the same. i can tell."

you stare down at the floor, jaw working. "i'm okay," you say, softly, weakly.

"tell me why. now. is it the money? mom and dad's marriage?"

"no."

"then what."

you take a slow, deep inhale.

"if you're not ready or scared, i'll wait until you are," livi adds, voice a bit quieter. "just..."

she trails off, a frown pulling at her lips.

"whatever it is, i want to help. i know you want to be the strong one. always. and you are. for me. for your friends. but not for yourself."

you breathe, closing your eyes, and after a beat, you murmur, "when did you get so smart?"

livi doesn't smile. just crosses the space between you, arms wrapping around your middle, a gentle, warm touch. you exhale and hold her.

"i've always been smart, jerk. you're the one that was distracted."

you rest your cheek against the top of her head and whisper, "i'm sorry."

later, in the kitchen, your mom wipes the counter with too much effort. she's been moving things around that don't need to be moved, cleaning already clean surfaces.

"i'm making the roast tomorrow," she says, almost to herself. "the one your dad likes."

you lean against the doorway, arms crossed. "he won't eat it anyway."

she glances at you, sharp. "don't start."

you shrug. "just saying."

she sighs through her nose. "you could help, you know. do something while you're here instead of sulking."

"i've been home twelve hours."

"and already with the attitude."

you grit your teeth. "i'm not trying to fight."

"could've fooled me."

the silence after that is cold. she opens the fridge just to stare inside, not grabbing anything.

she speaks again, quieter. "you know, you used to be different when you came home."

you furrow your brow. "when?"

"before." her voice thins. "you used to smile more. you were easier."

you blink, caught off guard. "easier?"

she shrugs. "to talk to. to understand."

your stomach turns. "i haven't changed, mom. i grew up. people do that, y'know. grow up. get older. that's normal."

her mouth presses into a line.

"is that what you're calling it?" she asks, voice careful. "growing up?"

you don't answer. you don't need to.

she scoffs, just once. then she reaches for a wine glass and pours herself half a cup like it's a reflex.

your voice sounds smaller. more vulnerable.

"mom, can you not? today."

"hm?"

"you know, can't we not talk about me growing up, or whatever, or—"

"it's not easy for us either."

she cuts in. sharp.

"we don't have any answers. we're not perfect parents. it's hard and scary, and you have no idea how frustrating it can be."

"that's not fair," you manage to say. "i'm not a parent, but i'm not a kid anymore either. you can't expect me to pretend everything is fine. because it's not, okay, and maybe the holidays are hard, but that's not my fault. i never said it wasn't. it doesn't mean we have to drink through it every year."

her gaze flashes. "what a stupid thing to say."

you don't argue.

"we're trying, y/n. you should know better than anyone."

you look down at the table. your words sound thick and shaky.

"i do know."

"do you?"

she waits, and when you don't speak, she goes still.

"oh," she murmurs. "i see."

"it's not the same."

"because you've found better people."

"they're not—no, mom, i didn't—"

"it's not an accusation, sweetheart."

you stare at each other, and the air is strange, thick, almost, and neither of you knows what to say. there's a long pause. the fridge hums behind her, the dishwasher ticks in the background, and for once, the house feels loud in the wrong places.

your mother clears her throat. "well," she says. "dinner's at five."

you nod. it's automatic.

she leaves the glass of wine on the counter and disappears down the hallway. a door clicks shut.

and that's that.

you don't cry. you don't yell. you don't slam anything.

you just sit there for a while, hunched at the kitchen table with your hands clasped tight and your jaw locked. you listen to the faint sound of livi's movie still playing, the muffled voices of people pretending to fall in love under fake snow.

eventually, you go upstairs. you pack quietly. fold your things carefully. the morning is quiet when you leave, and no one says goodbye.

⭑𓂃

the flight was long, and by the time you make it back to the apartment, you can hardly stand upright because you're so tired, your vision fuzzy.

jae looks shocked when he finds you standing in the doorway. he blinks twice, then three times, as if not believing you.

"y/n? are you a hallucination?"

"what are you talking about? i was gone for two days."

he narrows his eyes. "didn't think you were coming back," he says, but his expression is lighter now. he glances at your suitcase, then back at your face. "what happened? family emergency?"

you shrug. "something like that."

"was the roast that good?"

you give him a look. he just smirks.

"seriously," jae says, shifting. "are you alright? you were... weird before you left."

you pause. look down. then, very slowly, you nod.

"yeah," you whisper, and he must believe you, or maybe he doesn't, but either way, he's smiling. you give him a closed-mouth smile and duck into your room, and when the door closes behind you, you sag against it, exhaling.

you open her contact. you don't let yourself overthink it this time. you press the call button, and it rings. once. twice.

she answers on the third.

"y/n?"

her voice is quiet, a little hoarse. you wonder if she was asleep. or avoiding you.

you clear your throat. "are you busy?"

a pause.

"no."

you swallow. "can you come over?"

another pause. longer this time.

"i'll be there in twenty."

she doesn't even change out of her sweatpants. doesn't brush her hair. she just grabs a coat—one that still smells faintly like the perfume you always wear.

in her head, the whole drive over, she rehearses, and then dismisses, and then repeats the things she wants to say. she wonders if it would be easier if you weren't here, if she had a week or two, or hell, even a few more hours, to really think it over. but the fact is, she doesn't, and she can't afford to wait or plan or calculate a million different outcomes. not right now, or ever, because life is messy and short, and there aren't enough hours to be careful or self-aware, not in the right ways, anyway.

so when the elevator reaches your floor, she doesn't know what she's walking into. she doesn't even know if you want her there because you miss her or because everything fell apart and you needed someone you could ruin gently.

but she continues to walk towards that door.

because she would go even if you hadn't asked.

you don't open the door right away.

karina lifts her hand to knock a second time, but the lock clicks, and there you are—hoodie sleeves past your hands, eyes rimmed pink.

you're tired. exhausted, really. the type where a part of you thinks you won't get any real sleep, even if you try.

"hi," she whispers.

you hold the door wider.

"come in."

when the door is shut behind her, you move to your room, not speaking.

she doesn't ask any questions.

the door opens, and you disappear inside.

she follows, closing the door and dropping her bag near the doorway, and you're already sitting on your bed, staring at her, waiting.

"you look tired," she says.

you nod. "didn't sleep much."

she fidgets with the drawstring on her hoodie. "me neither."

she takes a breath, trying to decide how she wants to do this—if she should ask first, or dive right in, or even speak at all.

her mouth opens. closes.

you speak first.

"i didn't know who else to call."

karina's eyes soften, her posture relaxing slightly. her words come out slower, less calculated. "i'm glad you did."

you exhale slowly, rubbing your palm over your thigh.

"feels like i've been holding my breath for two weeks straight."

karina swallows.

you glance at her, then away. "i thought maybe i imagined everything. us."

she flinches.

and for a second, you wish you could take it back. but she lifts her chin and looks at you.

"you didn't."

you don't move. just stare at each other, a strange, tense silence falling between the two of you.

it goes on for a while. too long.

until karina moves. slowly, like she's scared, like you might run, or snap, or worse—but she still moves.

she stands in front of you and hesitates only once before taking a seat on the bed.

"it feels like my life is running away from me."

karina frowns, brow furrowing, a bit lost.

you're not going to have enough money for rent this month and your tuition because fuck, because you went home only to be reminded that family doesn't always mean home.

your voice drops lower, and a strange emotion passes over your face, raw, almost.

"i also... i keep... feeling like you are too. and i never got the chance to stop it. because we were so busy, and then there wasn't a good moment, or a time, or anything and—"

"hey," karina interrupts, "what? hey, slow down."

your gaze lifts to hers, and the second you do, she knows exactly what's happening, and it hurts in the best and worst ways possible.

"talk to me," she whispers, taking your hand and squeezing it lightly. "tell me."

you swallow.

"you're a fucking star, y'know. like, literally, not figuratively. and i can't get to you."

she frowns.

"you're so far out of my orbit, and it's selfish and dumb, and i'm sorry, and—"

"hey, hey," she murmurs, scooting closer, cupping the side of your neck. you inhale shakily, and she shakes her head.

"don't."

"don't what?"

"don't say things you're not going to let me reply to."

you fall silent.

"it's okay," she says, "just listen."

she holds your hand in hers, smoothing her thumb across your knuckles.

"there's not a place, not a galaxy, not an entire universe out there that you aren't allowed in." she says it with a kind of steady, desperate conviction, her voice growing a little thicker. you try to swallow around the tightness in your throat, but she keeps talking, and her words come slowly, the way they always do when she's nervous or worried.

"i wanted to come earlier. i—i almost got in trouble just trying to leave the dorm tonight. it's been... weird lately."

you blink. "weird how?"

karina hesitates. she lets out a breath, then looks down at your intertwined hands before murmuring, "there's a new dating ban. it's... official. a rule, now since our comeback is happening, and we had meetings about it and the company's being... strict."

your stomach flips.

you're quiet for a long time. too long.

karina rushes to fill the space, her voice rising.

"i didn't want to tell you because i knew—i know—how it sounds. like an excuse, or like i'm choosing something over you, and i'm not. i swear i'm not—"

"rina."

she stops.

you're still calm. still.

not because you don't care. you do—god, you do—but you're too tired to panic. too tired to do the whole dramatic, spiraling thing. you've done it enough the past two weeks.

"you love your job," you say softly. "and you're amazing at it."

she nods, shakily.

"i always knew this might happen," you continue, looking at her. "and i knew it wouldn't be easy."

karina makes a noise, pained.

her eyes brim. you know that look. you know what's coming.

"but i love you," she whispers, her voice cracking on the word. "i love you, and i'm scared. i've never—this is the only time i've ever been scared of love. i didn't even know that was a thing."

you close your eyes.

"rina..."

"no, wait." she leans forward now, pressing her forehead to yours. her hands tremble on your shoulders. "i've never loved anyone like i love you. never. i don't think i can. i think that's it for me. you're it."

you exhale sharply, eyes still shut, like maybe if you don't look at her, you won't fall apart.

"and if i lose you because of some stupid contract, i don't know what i'll do. i don't know how to be okay with that."

your voice is barely above a whisper. "if you leave me today, i'll still be here. i'm not going anywhere."

she nods. swallows. neither of you move, foreheads still touching.

she speaks first.

"y/n."

your hands move to frame her face, tilting her chin up, and her eyelashes flutter.

"can you kiss me, please?"

so you do.

you tilt her chin up and brush a kiss across her lips, and you feel her breathe into it, a sigh that settles over both of you and melts the remaining distance away.

when the kiss breaks, she doesn't move away, staying pressed as close as she can.

"i don't wanna make you wait long. not forever, not even a year or two."

you run a knuckle over her cheekbone. "i'd wait," you say.

she looks down.

"no one's made me feel the way you have," you whisper.

her eyes snap back to yours. "really?"

you smile faintly. "that's pretty cheesy," you point out, but the words sound fragile, almost.

she ignores it.

"is it true?"

you nod.

"yeah."

she reaches for you, arms sliding over your shoulders and wrapping loosely around your neck, her mouth a hairsbreadth from yours. she kisses the corner of your mouth, once, and again, lingering, warm.

you exhale, turning your head slightly so her mouth catches yours, and you're kissing her again.

and karina goes pliant, melting into you.

⭑𓂃

you're sitting on the curb outside the café where you work, half a sandwich in hand, picking the crust off even though you're hungry. it's just past 3 p.m., and it's quite hot outside for springtime.

"that you?" jae's voice calls out.

you don't even turn your head. "who else would it be? my evil twin sister? i thought she was supposed to visit next week, but maybe i was mistaken—"

"god, i get it." he sighs dramatically. you finally glance over and watch him cross the street without looking because he's an idiot with his backpack hanging off one shoulder. he looks sweaty, a bit flushed from the heat, hair sticking to his forehead.

you try not to cringe.

he joins you on the curb, pulling his water bottle out, taking a huge swig. when he lowers it, a bit of droplets stick to the corner of his mouth. gross.

jae swallows and then glances at your hand.

he grimaces. "that's not the healthiest choice for lunch."

"don't start. the fridge is empty."

he rolls his eyes. "why's that any surprise."

"bitch, can i eat in peace?" he laughs, and you fight a smile.

the sun beats down a bit, the two of you quiet, before his gaze moves toward the parking lot and he speaks.

it's been a long week. month. year. you're not even sure anymore. but it's been quieter lately. still hard sometimes, still weird, but manageable. like you're finally catching your breath after forgetting how to breathe.

he nudges your side gently, bringing you back.

"how was the morning shift?"

you shrug. "long, mostly. not busy enough."

he snorts.

"you used to complain that it was too busy... so now i'm just a little confused."

"mmm... well. now, it's annoying, because i'm bored."

"you're a weird one."

"i know," you sigh.

you look down at your knees, jeans faded and soft from overuse.

"my parents finalized the divorce," you say. "like, last week."

jae looks at you, but doesn't interrupt.

"i didn't even feel anything when they told me," you continue, voice low. "it was just like—okay. cool. we're done pretending."

"i'm sorry."

you nod once. "i think i used to believe that people would stay together for the sake of the family. their kids. their kid. it was easier to pretend than to tell the truth. and that sucks. the lies were kinder than the real thing."

you lean back, palms against the sidewalk. "we can't control other people."

you feel the weight of his stare.

"i'm just glad that's over."

he doesn't say anything after that. just bumps his shoulder against yours.

"you still thinking about acting?" he asks after a moment.

you blink. "sometimes."

"i think you should."

you scoff. "you think i should audition for those weird web dramas with twelve views and a fake sponsor?"

"nah," he says. "i think you should actually do something with it. you've got that thing."

you arch a brow. "what thing?"

"the sad, haunted vibe. directors love that."

you laugh—like, really laugh—for the first time that day. "you're an asshole."

"but i'm right," he smirks. "you've always wanted this. don't act like you haven't been quietly posting monologue tests on your finsta again."

you squint. "how do you know about that?"

"i have spies."

you roll your eyes, smiling, before muttering, "it feels a bit dumb. chasing something like this. there are more stable, reasonable things to chase, and most people wouldn't just jump ship and follow a stupid dream."

"and that's exactly why you should do it," he replies, shrugging. "do what scares you."

your stomach does an odd little flip. you look down at your feet. "when did you get all wise and shit."

"im not actually a bimbo, you know," he mutters.

"oh, trust me, i'm aware. it's just... nice. the way you're good at putting things. makes you a great guy."

"you're sweet," he drawls sarcastically. you grin, leaning back. the sun feels good on your face, warm and light and soothing, and the air isn't heavy, doesn't feel tight.

he stands up after a bit and stretches. "you walking home?"

"yeah."

"i'll come with," he says. "i need to get some chips anyway."

you both end up walking in silence for a bit, until you stop outside the gs25.

"i'll just be a second," you say, slipping inside and heading straight for the atm in the corner. another semester another payment.

it's second nature when you insert your card, type your id, curse at the tuition balance, and pay what you can. but today's different. you punch in your info. the screen loads. and then—

₩0 krw

you stare. you check the number again. blink a few times. hit refresh. same thing. ₩0 krw. "what the..."

you back out of the page. re-enter your info. nothing changes.

you look around like someone's gonna explain it. the cashier's talking on the phone about some anime. no help there. you hit the button to print a receipt. hold it in your hand. ₩0 krw

you walk outside, clutching the slip like it's about to start burning in your hand. "yo," jae says, tossing his empty water bottle in the air. "you good?"

you blink at him. "i think—" you hold up the receipt. "the machine's broken."

"why?"

"it says my tuition's zero."

"isn't that a good thing?"

"no—it's not right. i didn't pay it yet."

he frowns. "like, not even a partial thing?"

"nothing. it's cleared."

jae tilts his head. "maybe check on your laptop when you get home?"

you nod slowly. "yeah. yeah."

the rest of the walk is weird. your fingers are still gripping the paper like it might start making sense if you fold it enough times.

when you get inside, sora's on the floor doing her nails. she glances up at the door closing, then back to you. "helloooooooo."

"hi," you croak, not even registering her tone, not looking her in the eye as you kick off your shoes. she raises a brow, noticing the strange shift, and continues to paint her nails.

"uh-oh."

"huh?"

"are you still mad i finished death note without you?"

"not today, sora, not today."

she puts her brush down and leans back, stretching her legs out. "oh my god, are you dying or something? or, oh! you found out the bakery stopped making the blueberry muffins you love. is that it? is the world coming to an end?"

you take a slow, deep breath.

"my tuition's paid."

her lips curl into a confused smile. "that's a good thing, no?"

you think out your lips. "no. yes. i don't know. i'll be right back." you mumble, heading straight for your room.

"weirdo!"

you open the student portal, enter your password, and wait, chewing the inside of your cheek.

same result.

tuition paid. balance: ₩0 krw. you stare at the screen for a long, long time. then you call the finance office. miraculously, someone picks up. "hi—i just... i'm seeing something strange on my account? i was going to pay my tuition today, but it says my balance is zero. i haven't made any recent payments, so i'm wondering if it's a system error—"

"can i get your student id?" the woman asks.

you give it.

there's typing on the other end.

"it says here your account was settled earlier this week. monday."

"settled... like paid?"

"yes. full amount."

you press the phone tighter against your ear. "by who?"

"the payment was made via direct transfer."

"so—was there a name?"

more typing.

"no name listed. it was submitted anonymously."

anonymous.

funny how unanimous that action is.

"is everything okay?" jae asks from the doorway.

you glance back at the screen, where the total's still the same. ₩0 krw.

you haven't touched it since, just left it open because maybe if you didn't believe it, it'd change. but it hasn't, and now you're sitting with the receipt you printed, trying to wrap your brain around it.

"i don't know what i'm gonna do," you manage, eyes burning.

jae sits on the bed next to you and offers you his palm. you place the slip in it.

he studies it. then the screen. then looks over at you.

"have you thanked your mom for this, yet?"

your expression shutters. "it wasn't her."

"how are you so sure?"

you meet his eyes, steady, even though your hands are trembling a bit. "i would've known if it was."

he pauses, seeming to recognize that, then looks back to the screen.

"okay, so, we don't know who it was, then. but... does it matter, y/n? isn't it good, or something? that you don't owe anything?"

your stomach knots, but you swallow and nod.

"i guess."

jae nudges your knee.

"you know who it is?"

"it was karina."

it's the only option that makes sense. you'd mentioned to her the struggle once or twice, in passing. nothing detailed. but it had always been the most likely choice.

she knew.

knew what your family was like, where your headspace was. and somehow, through it all, through her own life falling apart, through a dating ban that would leave both of you raw, bleeding, she had remembered and done the one thing that was easy and hard and messy and clean all at the same time.

the two of you haven't spoken in five months. not since christmas, when you were the one that was the coward, who told yourself it was easier, that the distance would heal whatever wounds you didn't want to touch, or see, or even acknowledge.

and the truth is, it hasn't. the truth is, the cuts and bruises are still there, still fresh, and they still hurt.

they've gotten easier, sure. better. the pain lessened.

but there's still a hole in you. not a huge one. just a spot where she used to be. a spot no one else can reach or fill.

and a part of you hates her for that. and another part is still a little in love with her.

"well," he murmurs.

"well," you echo, eyes drifting back toward the laptop, the numbers.

"are you gonna text her?"

"why would i."

"to say thanks? or sorry. or whatever else."

"i...can't."

"why?"

your jaw works. you look down. "because," you sigh. "i just can't."

"you're acting like a baby."

he says it like he's tired for you. like he's been watching you circle the same block of grief for months, slowing only to pretend you're fine before picking up speed again. like he's held the door open all winter, and you're the one refusing to walk through.

you press your knuckles to your eyes. "i'm not ready."

he shifts beside you.

"her comeback's not over," you admit after a beat, voice quiet. "the dating ban's still in place. and i—"

you exhale, shaky. "i don't think i could handle it, jae. seeing her, but not having her. talking, but only through windows. being careful all the time. like—like i'd be setting myself on fire just to sit next to her again."

his expression softens.

he knows you mean that, in every sense.

"you're the strongest person i've ever met, y/n."

you breathe out a laugh.

"i'm serious," jae says. "what you're doing is really brave."

"running away?"

"facing reality."

you take a moment. think, for once. "sometimes, i wonder," you say, the words coming slowly, hesitantly. "if... i'm really making the right choice. is this fair, y'know, for either of us?"

"you're not hurting anyone."

you look down at the sheets. "but am i hurting her."

"she chose her job. and you chose to move on. no one's fault. no one's mistake."

you bite your lip. a long silence. the fan spins overhead, quiet.

your voice is the first to return, hoarse."y ou think i'll ever stop loving her?"

jae doesn't answer right away. you don't look at him.

but eventually, he says, just above a whisper,

"i think you were meant to."

you let out a soft laugh, then a sniff follows behind, and for the first time in months, you let yourself cry.

main masterlist. part one. part two.

[wbbxbabymiko]

You Are In Love

Georgia Amoore X reader

a/n: we are in a Georgia Amoore fanfic drought. So I decided to create my own. That being said...this is my first time writing anything. I've always just stuck to reading. Constructive criticism is appreciated! Let me know if y'all want another part. P.S. how do you post on tumblr, I feel old.

The sun was setting over the sea, the air was salty, strawberry daiquiri in one hand, your free hand pressed the number 8 on the elevator. This was the first family vacation where you finally had a room all to yourself - might as well enjoy it. 

You walk out of the elevator, sipping your daiquiri. Your phone vibrates - it’s your best friend Izzy. She’s sent you a funny video. 

Who would've thought walking, laughing at a video, and holding a drink at the same time wouldn't be great for your balance. 

Of course, as you approach your room, you accidentally bump into someone. 

Your face heats up with embarrassment, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

You swear you hear a soft laugh, “no, no, you're good. I’m okay-are you?” 

As your embarrassment begins to fade, you realize who you just bumped into - the basketball player Izzy occasionally sends you thirst edits of…Georgia Amoore.

“I’m okay, thank you.” You say with a smile, discreetly admiring her features. 

She smiles back like she’s doing the same. Her smile is just as hypnotizing in person as it is in the edits. 

You quickly decide you have to say something, Izzy would never forgive you otherwise. “sorry, but… are you a basketball player?” 

She laughs again - god, that laugh. “Yes, I am. Are you a fan?” 

“No. Yes! I mean, kind of - by association, I guess? My best friend Izzy is always talking about you. You’re really impressive.” You nervously laugh as she watches you with a smile.

“I just thought I had to say something - she would've killed me if she found out you were here and I didn't say anything.”

“Well, I’m glad you bumped into me. Always happy to meet a ‘kind of’ fan.”

You chuckle. “Stop, I'm so sorry if that was rude. I'm clearly not thinking straight,” you say, motioning to the daiquiri in your hand. 

“No it's ok I swear. You just seem fun to mess with,” she says, laughing like you’re old friends.

You roll your eyes playfully. “No way you just said that.” She chuckles. “We can FaceTime your best friend if you'd like - I could quickly say hello. Score you some bestie points.”

“Shoot, you know what? I’m pretty sure she’s at work right now. Is it okay if we record a short video instead?” She nods. “Yes, of course - it’s no problem.”

After recording the video for Izzy, you apologize for bumping into her and thank her for everything. “It was nice meeting you!” You say. She waves goodbye and you part ways.

The next day, you decide it’s going to be a read by the pool kind of day. Maybe you’ll finally finish the book you've been reading.

You quickly change into your maroon bikini. Tote bag in hand, you pause at the mirror. You can’t lie - you feel as good as you look. Now you remember why you love this color on yourself.

You find a pool chair in the perfect spot - secluded enough that you won’t be bothered but still close enough to people watch if you feel like it. 

A server comes by to take your order - of course, you go with a strawberry daiquiri 

You pull out your book, daiquiri in hand. 

“reading normal people? So you love to torture yourself?” 

You look up and see the green-eyed girl smiling down at you. You can’t help but smile back. “Guess so. It's completely ruining me. I take it you've read it before?” 

“Actually, it’s my favorite recent read. Is it your first time reading it?” Georgia asks. 

“Yes. Although, I already know how it ends from all the spoilers I've seen online,” You say, shrugging.

She chuckles. “oh no - not the edits to the Phoebe Bridgers songs.” 

You giggle at the way her “oh naur” sounds so Australian. “What's so funny?” she asks, finally taking the seat next to you. 

“Nothing - you just sound like we’re in H2O. The mermaid show.” 

She laughs and grabs her chest, pretending to be deeply offended. “Oh naur, Cleaoorr,” she says, making you burst into a fit of laughter. 

“So what are you doing out here? Are you obsessed with me? Be honest,” you say playfully - secretly hoping she says yes. 

“I mean, could you blame me?”she says, eyeing you up and down. Yup that’ll do it. She’s just ignited something in you.

You continue the flirty banter until she finally asks, “Are you on this cruise by yourself?”

“Yes - but technically no. I’m here with my parents, my sister, and her girlfriend. I'm fifth-wheeling,” you say, wincing at the last part.

It’s not that you don’t enjoy spending time with your family - it’s just that ever since your sister got a girlfriend, she’s been drifting away from you. 

Though, you’d never bring that up to her in fear of - not wanting to make things awkward. 

“I've been exploring this place on my own,” you add with a slight smile.

Hoping she says no, you ask, “What about you? You here with a girlfriend?” 

She smiles like she knows exactly why you're asking. “No girlfriend. Actually, I’m here by myself - wanted to experience something different. Plus, none of my friends wanted to come. They were like, ‘Why willingly go on a big boat on the ocean’”. She laughs at the memory. 

“You know what? That’s completely valid. It is kind of scary when you think about it.” 

You realize how long you've been talking with her when you notice just how beautiful she looks with the sunset illuminating her eyes. 

You can’t help but smile when she laughs at something you said. 

You snap yourself out of the trance when you catch yourself thinking about which Taylor Swift song this moment feels like. 

It's only been two days of knowing her, but you can’t imagine going the rest of the cruise without seeing her again.

“Hey, so I was wondering if you’d like to join me later for movie night? It’s out on the main deck. I totally understand if you don’t want to-” She smiles and nods, cutting off your ramble. “i would love to.” 

You both agree you guys should go get ready. “Great. I'll be there at 8:30.” You slowly gather your things, and she offers you her hand. You graciously accept. You swear the world pauses for just a second.

You tell yourself she’s probably just being friendly. Nothing more. This is real life - not a move or a book you catch yourself smiling at. And if it were, you would've been written by Sally Rooney: a hopeless romantic, eternally cursed.

You let go of her hand once you’re up. You don’t want to make her uncomfortable. 

You walk to the elevator together in silence. Usually, you’d be trying to fill the air with small talk by now. But not with her. With Georgia It's comfortable. Effortless. 

She presses the number 8 on the elevator -  you’re both staying on the same floor. “It’s kind of a cool coincidence that we’re both staying on the same floor. Which also happens to be my jersey number.” 

“It was the universe wanting us to meet,” you say - half joking, half believing it. 

You look at her with a dumb smile on your face. She’s staring at you like she wants to say something else.

A moment passes. Slowly, you both begin to lean in. You can feel her breath on your lips, and you’re almost certain she can hear how fast your heart is beating. 

Ding! The elevator doors slide open, and you both quickly pull away - like you just got caught doing something you weren’t supposed to.

You glance down in quiet disappointment, silently cursing whoever invented elevators that move this fast.

You both step out. She follows you to your door - directly cross from the elevator. 

A beat of silence. “I’ll see you at 8:30,” you smile in agreement as she turns to walk to her room at the end of the hall.

[chrizzmaster]

As an alternative, imagine getting pushed a bit too far (for plot purposes, Rebel crossing a really personal line, possibly bringing up the homeowner’s death against you- but it can be anything) and instead of crying like the new homeowner would usually do, you take off the dateviators. Not completely unusual, but what is unusual is the dead look in your eye.

Bc I absolutely hate Rebel and apart of me finds this particular version funny, imagine leaving for a few hours (to which none of them think much of it) before coming back, bag in hand, and grabbing Rebel to make sure they absolutely have to see what’s inside. And just- Dumping out a bunch of rubber duckies that are torn, burned, etc. and leaving them there.

THAT or harming the objects directly with the dateviators off. Whether that’s throwing Rebel at celia repeatedly, taking a bat to Washford (there’s a laundromat around the corner anyways), bending Tina’s beloved triangle out of shape. Maybe going into the attic and just… Kicking the crap out of Hector’s beloved hiding hole, digging through the board games and ripping up the paper money or taking away some of the tokens (just enough to make the game unplayable). Basically turning this entire house into a personal rage room, essentially.

You wouldn’t quite know how this’d translate for them, but you know they can’t be pleased about it. If asked, I imagine just shrugging “you may not like me but you will treat me like I own you.”

i NEED this new homeowner to go through major development and lose their shit, remind the objects know that they are yk… Objects, and truthfully nothing more. I need homeowner to be a sadistic bad bitch about it😭😭

GUYS I SWEAR I HAVE AN IDEA FOR COMBINING THE THREE!!! i acc thought of writing a version of you turning the house into a rage room so im looking forward to writing this! hope its not too cringy ahh and since i wrote one of burning the house- im gna make the objects essentially murder our cat and then go full on rage at them.

TW: animal death, torture(???)

You took the bullying like a champ- you were patient and calm. There must be a reason why they took such a liking towards these objects and since they're still dealing with their own grief- they needed someone to blame. Once they calmed down, you wouldn't forgive them per-se but decided to form an agreement of civility and slowly mend the bridge.

If only these objects had a little human in them which they clearly didn't. What did they ever see in these objects?

It's one thing to take out their anger and grief on you- it was another to murdering the only source of happiness you felt in this godforsaken house. During dark cold nights, Gizmo, your cat would be right next to you and trying his best to comfort you. He was the reason you weren't completely miserable in this house.

And... they took him away from you. Stripped you with nothing but a cold cruel house and crueler 'housemates'.

Gizmo was quite old thus he lazed around upstairs in your bed often when you went to your classes- you thought that you could trust these monsters but you're wrong. He lost a leg recently and you've been training him to walk down the stairs but he still couldn't so he wouldn't dare walk down himself. Not if there wasn't anyone scaring him and chased him away from the upstairs floor.

Here Gizmo's lifeless body was- right in front of you at the end of the staircase. How could they do this-? What was their goal? To chase you away? You couldn't even process your grief when they died because you immediately moved in here just to be harassed by these objects that supposedly loved your late relative. You wondered if any of these objects can even feel simple respect- let alone love.

The sight of Gizmo didn't make you cry- unshed tears gathered in your falls but didn't fall and it was if a hand reached inside you to squeeze your heart. Choking on air, you collapsed onto the ground, crawling to where Gizmo was and held his lifeless body. When you saw his shut eyes and the calm look in his face, you could almost think he was simply just taking a nap. With one final weak attempt on checking if he was still alive- trembling hands checked for a pulse only to be met with none.

Those few days you wallow in agony as you mourn for Gizmo; Gizmo, who still had time yet was taken away coldly by unfeeling objects.

Anger followed your sadness as you place those damned glasses on and questioned the upstairs, starting from the bathroom.

Rebel immediately snorted seeing your face, "Coming here for comfort after your cat died?"

What followed was a collective gasp sounding inside the bathroom- the others sending a warning glare to Rebel who scoffed, "What?" As they were going to provoke you even more- they turned quiet at the sight of your blank face. This wasn't the reaction they wanted- did you not care that your cat just died? What's going on...? Something was different about you that they didn't like. The rubber duck rolled their eyes, "What? Trying to act cool or what?"

With your uncharacteristic unhurried movements, you calmly took off the glasses and left the bathroom. The vibe was tensed inside the bathroom, none spoke nor looked at each other. Rebel broke the silence with a baffled laugh, "Don't tell me you guys bought that intimidation tactic or whatever the duck-"

Barry clicked his tongue, shaking his head and ignored Rebel who flipped him off, spouting a bunch of insults towards you and the others in the bathroom. Why was everyone acting as if they were so innocent?!

You came back after what felt like years with a black trash bag filled with what they're unsure of. The dateviators were on you when you stood straight in front of Rebel as you dumped out a bunch of rubber ducks- ducks that were torn, burned, ran over, stabbed and the list goes on... the look in that fucking duck's eyes didn't make you feel better but you would be lying if you said you didn't feel the slightest of joy when you saw the color drain from their face, their eyes widening at the sight in horror and anger as they spluttered insults until you grabbed their rubber duck that was resting on the bathtub and gave it a squeeze which had them fall to the ground and wheezed, clawing on their throat.

Now, that- that made you feel alive. You chuckled with no humor as you dropped the rubber duck down to the cold pavement, a squeak emitting from it. Rebel seemed to have something to say- why, you couldn't have that now, could you? You stepped on the rubber duck on the floor and could hear the other objects gasped and winced but those were background noises- what delighted you was Rebel groaning in pain, screaming for you to stop- begging and pleading with fat droplets of tears escaping their eyes. With that, you took off the dateviators and picked the ruined rubber duck up and waltzed down the stairs and out of the house.

Giving one final squeeze to the rubber duck, you threw it in the middle of the road and the timing was just perfect as a car immediately drove passed with incredible speed and ran over them- it. Faintly, you could hear a faint pathetic squeak behind you as you practically skipped back to your house.

One down- more to go! If these objects wanted them so bad they could go meet them on the other side- oh, right. They weren't alive. You thought, not like they would ever like to see any of these objects again anyways.

Of course, their mayor came forward when you entered the house, placing the dateviators on. The look in her eyes was priceless- fear evident in them as they looked at you like you were a different person. Well, you were. Who thought they could kill your cat and get away with it? You were going to slowly torture them until they wished they were never made and to regret for ever treating you like utter shit- that wasn't even the reason why you've snapped. Gizmo did nothing wrong.

"Leave me alone if you know what's good for you," you sneered at Celia, "Don't think just because you're the ceiling I can't hurt you. What about Florence, hm? Do you wish to see her getting carved by a knife? Oh- or maybe I could purchase a jackhammer and drill her, huh?" Celia had nothing to say after but her expression told you everything- a mix of anger and fear- just like Rebel. That face- you wanted across every object in this house as they watched you ruin their object or when you hurt the ones they love.

Just like how they had hurt you and killed Gizmo.

The list goes on as you bought a sledgehammer the next day and decided to ruin the house by turning it into your personal rage room. Washford was brutally beaten as Drysdale watched and weep if the constant beeping of the dryer was anything to go by. Plates were thrown to the wall, your bedroom mirror was smashed as you threw the digital cat clock at it. Every single one of them will pay.

In the end, they were broken pieces- alive but in severe pain, some kind of living corpse as you grinned maniacally at the objects, the glasses perched on top of your nose bridge- taking in the flashes of fear in the objects.

[bewitched-hours]

I'M BACK. I'm throughly upset as to why there's barely any Taph fics, he's such a darling! May I please have Taph x GN!Reader where the two are reminiscing on the round and Taph's little crush slips when you pry about the all the times you've notice him plating bombs around you? I think he'd be really protective of loved ones and friends by placing traps and signing for them to "Stay put." - Luminescent Anon

AWWW, we need more Taph fr- (especially as a bird like Telamon/Shed) Our favourite little bomber~

As requested, reader gets they/them!

Recently you've noticed something odd...

You were friends with pretty much all of the survivors, sharing different bonds and building different habits, sure...

But Taph has been acting more protective lately. You were sure of it.

You were used to being protected when generators became irrelevant by watching Taph place bombs around you but lately, you've noticed a pattern in the way he placed the bombs around you and you could no longer excuse it as a coincidence with how often it had happened.

Because the bombs started forming a heart shape around you in such a subtle way that you barely even noticed the slight dents in the usually rounded shape that just seemed to increase everytime he placed the bombs. Was he trying to tell you something?

Regardless, you never really questioned him until today. It never truly mattered to you since you figured if it meant anything, Taph would come to you himself. Surely, he would have the courage to-

Nope, he didn't. This much became clear when you were celebrating having won every round today and you had helped Elliot prepare so many different pizzas that it could make anyone hungry from just looking at them.

Your attention was mainly on Taph as you two talked. Well, he didn't talk but you understood him all the same. You two seemed to communicate in your own way sometimes as it was a gamble as to when you'd speak or just use sign language with him. Sign language was easier for you in moments like this where everyone was talking and making it hard to hear your own conversation.

You two were just 'talking' about how Taph's bombs had a way of pairing well with your support abilities since you could shield yourself and surrounding survivors as well as heal them slightly in case the killer managed to get a hit in between the explosions.

But you couldn't help but wonder...

[Your aim seems to be getting sloppy.] You signed, chuckling at Taph's visible confusion and slight embarrassment. [You wouldn't happen to have anything to tell me?]

[I'm not sure what you mean.] He signed so quickly you almost didn't register the words. [I'm just making sure you're safe.] He seemed stubborn about not letting you know the truth even as his wings puffed up behind him. He was getting flustered and shaky with his signs.

You simply stared at him for a while, thinking of how to continue the conversation with a flustered and squeaky Taph who was trying to get his wings under control while his talons dug into the wooden floor. But that seemed to do the trick when he simply grabbed your hand and placed a sheepish kiss on it. A gesture so innocent it made your face heat up like a lamp.

But you understood it all the same. A silent confession that had you both in a flustered state until you finished eating with your hands still holding onto each other as neither of you dared to look at anything besides your own food. Afterwards you let go briefly to help clean up with no one seeming to have taken notice of your and Taph's state. Or they did and just didn't say anything, they knew better than to make a situation worse by bringing it up so publicly.

You began saying goodnight to everyone but Taph, instead asking if he wanted to talk or just sleep and he luckily agreed to talk before dragging you to his cabin. A cabin smelling of gunpowder and books. Comforting in an odd sense but you were more interested in the giant nest of blankets and pillows where his bed should be. A single mattress at the bottom of it like the branch of a tree underneath a regular bird nest.

He guided you into it with care and joy, especially when you showed with your blushing face that you understood this to be a more intimate gesture on his part. He trusted you and you both understood the crush was mutual so now you just had to figure out where you should go from here.

"Honestly, I didn't think it would be mutual... You're so much more exciting than I could ever be." You chuckled awkwardly, shortly quieting down as Taph's wings wrapped around you. [Don't underestimate yourself. You're an amazing person and an even greater friend, I couldn't have fallen for anyone better.] His words made your heart race as you stared up at his face with wide eyes.

He took your hands in his and guided them up to his face, peppering your knuckles in kisses that made you giggle with excitement. "I guess I'm pretty lucky then." Your voice cracked a bit as you pulled yourself up to pepper his face in kisses like he did your knuckles. His soft rumbling paired with the ruffling of his wings told you all you needed to know to hold him as fondly as he held you.

Surprisingly, that was the night you learned what preening was...

Hopefully the way I wrote out the sign language parts made sense, I wanted to include it so badly for a Taph fic... I can't even do his emoji speak anyways so at least let me get that right TwT

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[chrissv4mp]

❀ backstreet girl

♫ now playing . . . track six: backstreet girl

warnings. angst, unrequited love, minor mentions of alcohol, crying.

synopsis. billie's the sweetest girl in town, everyone knows it as a fact. including you, one of her best friends and—unbeknownst to her—secret admirers. however, she's got eyes for someone else, and you're not sure how to get over that. well, until she calls one night, drunk and hurt.

words. 2.1k

letters. okay, don't get me wrong—i love love love and absolutely adore this entire ep, BUT david did his big one on this song i SWEARRR ???

PETALS TO THORNS WRITING MARATHON

billie's the kind of girl who lights up every room she walks into. kind, humble, glowing without even trying. always making people feel like they're right at home when they look like they don't quite fit in. you've seen it—felt it—first hand. that's how you met the girl.

how you fell in love with her.

her eyes that were as blue as the ocean. her soul that was so trapped in emotion. her heart that was as pure as gold.

but you never want to intrude. so you watch from the sidelines, loving her the way people admire art in museums—from a distance, without touching, afraid to ruin what you already have.

she's been talking a lot about some guy recently. and—for whatever reason—you hate him. hate how perfect she makes him sound. still, you smile and encourage her every time she brings him up to you.

like right now.

she's splayed across your bed, hair scattered along the pillows in soft, dark waves. you're sitting at your desk, one leg crossed over the other, hands in your lap as you eye her up and down subtly.

"he invited me to this party tonight, y'know?" she smiles, already blushing.

you perk up. "he did? when?"

she props herself up on her elbows, tilting her head. "i didn't tell you?" she asks, though she doesn't give you the time to answer. "he asked me over call a few nights ago. said everyone would be there, including him."

"and you're going?" you murmur.

billie nods without hesitation, smiling like a lovesick puppy. she lets herself lay back again, kicking her feet at the edge of the bed where they hung off.

you feel your chest tighten, hands sweating. you hate watching her fall in love, hate knowing that the one she's falling for isn't you. you know it's selfish, but you can't help it. not when she's yet to notice your feelings.

still, everyday you tell yourself not to say anything. not to push it. because you don't want to be the one to break her heart—or, even worse, get your own heart broken. don't want to jump into a relationship too soon and watch it crumble before it's even fully formed. and you don't think you'd be able to live through the breakup.

but at the same time, you also don't want to be one who never said a thing. the one who waited too long for someone to love her before you had the chance.

"hey," she exclaims, jumping to the edge of the bed.

you flinch, quickly getting snapped back into reality. your eyes find hers. soft. familiar. "oh—yeah?"

she smiles. "you should come with me."

and watch her confess? absolutely not.

"i—i'm not really in that scene," you laugh, nervous, brushing her off. "plus, i've got a bunch of homework due tonight." lie.

billie frowns, falling back onto the mattress. "that's too bad. i'll only know one person there then."

you cock a brow, forcing a smile onto your face. "what do you mean? you're literally the sweetest girl in town, everyone knows you. loves you too."

her eyes snap to yours again, a slow smirk curling on her lips. "everyone loves me?"

a light blush creeps up your neck and onto your cheeks, the color not quite noticeable in the dim lighting. "shut up. you know what i meant."

she giggles, rising to her feet and walking toward you. "yeah, but it's funny watching you get all flustered."

you push her away gently, watching as she slowly makes her way to the door, collecting her things on the way there. she leans against the frame, smiling teasingly.

"get going, would you?" you laugh.

a faux frown tugs at her lips. "but i'd hate to leave my favorite admirer—"

"just get out!"

──────

the rest of the night goes smoothly. you eat dinner with your family, take a shower, and crawl into bed. you're not able to fall asleep for a while, though, mind too consumed with thoughts of billie and her soon-to-be boyfriend.

the idea alone makes you want to scream.

but you don't. instead, you roll onto your side and scroll on your phone for what feels like forever, eyes flicking to the top of your screen every now and then in hopes of receiving a text from the very girl you were thinking about. but, nope, nothing. just stupid notifications for your battery and useless snaps from people you hardly know.

that same cycle continues for a while. hours pass, and it's only when your phone flashes with the "low battery, 5%," do you check the time. 12:57 a.m. reads in bold letters at the top of your screen. but you don't feel tired. you feel on-edge. worried. angry. everything all at once. and it's overwhelming—

until your phone freezes for a moment. then the sound of your ringtone emits from the small device.

billie's calling.

you answer after a beat, snatching your charger from your nightstand and plugging it in at the same time that you raise your phone to your ear.

"hello?" you mumble, voice hoarse from restlessness and unspoken feelings.

there's a small sniffle on the other end. slurred words. shaky breathing.

"he didn't want me, y/n."

she's drunk.

and you're already climbing out of bed, tossing the sheets to the side and slipping into your already-tied shoes. you keep the phone lodged between your ear and your shoulder, worry pumping heavily through your veins.

the question seems stupid as you ask it, but it's the only thing you can think to say that'll keep her talking.

"who, bil?"

she sniffles again. louder. "david. he—he said it in front... front of everyone."

your fists clench as you grab the hoodie resting on your desk chair, slipping your head into it and throwing it over your body quickly. you grab your phone, charger, and keys as you creep out of your room and down the stairs, heart ringing in your ears.

asshole. you'd seen it from the first day you met him—bumped into each other at a pep rally. didn't even apologize or anything, just brushed past you with a laugh and a joke to his friends.

"hey, it's okay," you say, already breathless as you slip out the front door and make your way to the driveway.

"there's other people out there," you reassure, smiling softly like she can actually see you.

you slide into the driver's seat, set your things down, turn the key in the ignition, and pull out of your driveway. your eyes flick to your phone, biting down on your lip as you see the call time rise.

"can you come get me?" she whimpers.

"already on my way," you answer, not missing a beat. "hey, would you send me your location, bil?"

the sound of something brushing the phone speaker—probably her clumsy hands—reach the speaker of your own phone, and when your phone pings quietly in your cup-holder, you thank her with a soft coo.

david's house isn't too far from yours. just a few streets down. you don't even need to ask for the description of the house, you notice the second the sound of a loud bass pulses down the street. your eyes land on billie the second you pull beside the curb.

loud music echos from outside the large building, nearly shaking the entire street. you park crooked, not caring. just needing to make sure billie was okay.

and there she is—sitting on the lawn, mascara smudged, frown deep, hair tousled and messy from the long night, knees tucked into her chest like a little kid. you jump out of your car quickly. and the moment she sees you, her shoulders drop like she can finally let go of everything.

"i didn't want him either," she murmurs as you come closer, dropping to your knees in front of her. "not really. i—i think i just wanted to feel something. feel wanted."

you pull her into your arms the moment she finishes her thought, holding her tight. hoping she feels secure. safe. wanted. maybe even just a little.

because you've wanted her. still do.

she's warm and trembling against you. drunk. sad. clutching at your hoodie and nuzzling her head into your chest, clinging to you like a koala. her soft sobs are muffled against the fabric, but you can feel each one. deep. hollow. broken.

"look at me," you whisper. not demanding. not gentle. but firm.

and—after a moment—she does, eyes still as blue and deep as the depths of the ocean. but they're glassy now. hurt. your arms only wrap around her tighter, holding her in the cool night air.

your eyes meet hers. never looking away as you speak, "no matter what, i'll be here. always. so don't ever say for a moment that you don't feel wanted."

the words aren't a lecture or a scold. just a reminder—a reminder that you won't ever leave her. that you won't ever hurt her. and with the way her eyes light up just that little bit, you're sure she knows it's true.

her fingers curl into the front of your hoodie, burying her head into the crook of your neck now.

"m'sorry for calling so late," she manages through a string of quiet sobs.

you shake your head, hand coming up to cradle the back of hers. holding her tighter. never letting go. "don't apologize. i was already awake anyway."

then she lifts her head, blinking stray tears away as she moves to stand up. you follow suit, grabbing her hand and leading her into the passenger seat of your car. she lets you strap the seatbelt over her body, settling comfortably in the leather seat as you round the car.

once you're sat in the driver's seat, you shift into gear, glancing over at her one last time. you offer a small smile, to which to returns. just more sad. so, in a last effort to make her feel even the slightest bit more comfortable, you reach your hand over and take hers.

she doesn't pull away.

not even after you reach the first turn.

or the second.

doesn't even twitch away when you pull into the driveway of your family's home, knowing her own parents wouldn't be very pleased to find out their daughter snuck out so late.

and when you turn your head to let her know, she's already dead asleep. head falling back against the headrest, lips parted a bit. fingers still wrapped tightly around yours. your cheeks flush.

but you don't move.

at least, not too soon.

you let her rest for a little while longer, eyes tracing along her features. the small freckles along the bridge her nose, the tear streaks of mascara staining her cheeks, the small—almost unnoticed—quiver of her lower lip.

then—slowly—her eyes flutter open, lids heavy and wearing with exhaustion and hurt. almost immediately they move to you.

you smile. soft. welcoming. "ready?"

she nods. you nod back, unbuckling yourself and getting out of the vehicle before rounding the car and helping billie out. her fingers link with yours again, gentle. like she needs the contact to keep standing upright.

the house is quiet as you unlock the front door, an overhead lamp in the kitchen the only source of light in the area. you help billie up the stairs swiftly, shutting your bedroom door behind you while holding the doorknob twisted so as not to wake your parents.

before you can turn around, the sound of billie falling onto the sheets reaches your ears. and when you do look, her head's already resting on the pillows, fingers clutching at the neck of her own hoodie.

with care, you pull the blanket over her small frame, moving to turn off the bedside lamp. then you turn to leave. you didn't wanna intrude on her space—

"wait."

you freeze, the word almost inaudible. but you heard it. you always heard her. so you turn back around. slow.

billie's sitting up halfway, blanket falling over her shoulder. "please stay."

you hesitate. just for a moment. "are you sure? bil, i can sleep on the cou—"

"i don't wanna be alone tonight," she slurs, tired. eyes red-rimmed from her earlier tears.

she looks wrecked.

so, with a gentle sigh and a crooked smile, you kick off your shoes and crawl onto the empty spot beside her. she pulls the covers over the both of you, then grabs your arm and wraps it around her waist.

you freeze again, heart stuttering.

but you don't move.

you lay there. tangled up with her the entire night.

comfortable.

hopeful for the first time in a while.

tags. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @bilsbunni @livvydunneness @chxhir0 @tan1shere @cierraonline @dandelions4us @rumbussa @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @mybluebossanova @fleurfiles @justtr @greenbttrflyy @billsbaby @bilsova @lottiepierce @northlndnisred @asterisk-eyes @dragoneyelashart @xxangelfarrlzxx @ilomiloblohshh @hanoxoxo @meliciousmel13 @jul3esz @rightarion @eilishssiennaa @skinnyhmhas @dragoneyelashart @thinkshespretty @cnnibalize @canthelpit0 @hailwiggly @karaeilish @ttheeblueee @drunkinyourbenz @aka-persephone @bitchesbrokenpromises @jayjaywetforbils @slvt4subchratt @cantlandonmyfeet @tezzzzzzzz @emi-inspace @sacred3ugene @ariieeesworld

[mullermilkshake]

Telling the truth?

Part 40 <- Part 41 -> Part 42

A heart to heart is what you both need.

Yandere!Jinwoo Sung x Fem New mom!reader Tags - Fluff, Slight angst, Relationship conversations, Conspiring, mentions of someone taking their life,

<<< For more Dark/Yandere content, click this link to go back to the Masterlist! >>>

<<< Or back to this fic's Master list. >>>

Picture credit - Left pic/right pic

A/N - I have only watched the anime and haven't gotten round to reading the manhwa yet. Please refrain from spoilers. And please refer to the master tag list for the full list of tags + major tags, I'm updating it where I can.

TAG LIST RE-OPEN (The tag list is back up and open for a little while, if you'd like to be tagged, please let me know! 🤗)

“So you’re the Chairman of the association now. Just like that?”

Well, Jinwoo wasn’t exactly going to tell you what he did to get it handed to him the way it was if he could help it, but he’d put some truth into it.

“So, I did some bad stuff.” He said, pushing your hair out of your face, running his fingertips down your neck like it was the last time.

He’d never take it for granted again.

“Like what?” Your eyes were so innocent, wide and unknowing.

“I stormed association headquarters to find the twins after you- well, after. Some people got hurt, but most managed to evacuate in time. My shadows tore the place apart to find the babies, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I thought the Chairman was involved- to be honest I still do somehow. But, he made me an offer, and I took it.”

He waited with bated breath, hoping you wouldn’t ask too much into it. It wasn’t something he ever thought he’d have to discuss with you, but then again, it would come out eventually, right?

“Did anyone die?”

There, you had to go and ask that, didn’t you? Jinwoo contemplated telling you the truth, you didn't ooze your aura out like you were thinking anything negative, his gut told him to stand down.

“No, not exactly- but the point is, the Chairman offered me the position. That means I’ll step back from fighting.”

Despite it all Jinwoo wanted to do, to level up. But if it put his family in danger doing so, well, that complicated things. He wasn’t really sure he could do both, not anymore.

But you persisted. “Not exactly? What happened, Jinwoo?”

“Uh…” Shit, shit, shit! “Well, you see…”

How the fuck could he actually bring it up that didn’t result in you either leaving him, or giving him the silent treatment until he went out of his mind? He’d gone so long without hearing your voice already, he couldn’t go through that again.

“Be honest, Jinwoo… did you hurt someone?”

Jinwoo nodded slowly, not uttering one word in hopes you’d ignore it. He couldn’t add insult to injury and actually speak.

“And they died, right?” Your face was unreadable, he couldn’t tell what the right answer was.

Again, he just nodded with caution as though he’d set you off.

“How many? I noticed some glass on the floor outside but never looked up at the windows, I don’t actually know the extent of the damage. Was it an accident, or did you actually kill someone?” You weren’t looking at him exactly, more like just past him.

And he didn’t know the right answer.

The fucking right answer is the truth, Jinwoo. Give her the truth.

“A couple of people. I was distraught when I thought I’d lost you… I’m not proud of it, they were preventing me from finding the twins. But in truth, I’d do that all over again if it meant I found them, because I might not have if I didn’t do what I did.”

You still didn't make eye contact, looking around the edge of his silhouette, still sat in his lap.

“Was it quick?”

He hesitated when you made full eye contact. “No… it wasn’t.”

Jinwoo looked away in shame, knowing deep down he’d make it even slower and more painful if time ever rewinded, he enjoyed it, that he had to deny.

“But, you’d do it again, to someone else?”

“No.” He spoke too eagerly to please you, too eagerly and it came out wrong.

You saw straight through it. “Jinwoo… we’re being honest with each other here.”

“I know…” He looked away again. “But, I don’t want- Baby, do you need to know all this?”

Cupping his cheeks, he melted into your neutral touch a borderline loving one. “I do. I think we both know that our relationship is different now. We have to be honest with each other, no matter how ugly.”

When he didn’t say anything, you kissed his lips quickly and pressed your forehead to his so you could whisper. “I waited so long to get back to you, thinking I never would. I’m not going anywhere, love. We’re getting married, we have a family, please tell me the truth.”

Would you really accept him at his worst and most depraved? He really didn’t know.

“I killed them, more than just a few, not all during the headquarters… thing. I made them suffer and enjoyed making them suffer because I lost you. I hoped it could take an ounce of the pain I was going through if I hurt someone else, but it didn't. I wasn’t whole anymore and our babies were missing. And the most twisted thing is, I'd do it again in a heartbeat for you.”

Your silence made him want to vomit, and your expression was still so plain he didn’t know what to take from it. Jinwoo watched you closely for some kind of indication, you gave him nothing, even your aura held no water to anything he learned from your behaviour thus far.

He pulled his head away from you. “Baby… say something.”

“You killed people for me.”

That was the first thing you said? Great.

Jinwoo couldn’t speak, he nodded and waited for a slap, or slew of words telling him off or that you never wanted to see him again. Telling him you’d never leave before and after he told you about his dark side were two different things.

“Would you do it again?” You asked,

“Huh?” Well, he didn’t expect that.

“I remember I asked you that once. And you said yes. So, would you do it again?”

Jinwoo was honestly speechless. There was no doubt he would massacre the entire world for you. But hearing that from you threw him off.

“Yeah… Yeah, baby, I would.”

You looked away from him, right down at your hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “I know it sounds like a shock hearing that from me, but I had a lot to think about while I was away. All I could do was think…”

Jinwoo knew the feeling, it must have been like sitting in limbo waiting for the plane to take off and sitting stranded. Except, the plane never took off, and you were stuck in your seat, never allowed to get up for anything.

“And… Besides thinking of you and the babies, I thought about that doctor.” Your brows furrowed slightly. “She took my life away, our life. And I want her to answer some questions I have.”

“Okay…” Well, Jinwoo’s plan was a little different to yours-

“And then I want to make her suffer as much as I can for trying to sell our children. To suffer for all the other people she must have hurt over the years. To put an end to this once and for all, then find those in Japan that want to buy our babies. I want them all to suffer, Jinwoo.”

Instantly, he knew what you were asking. You couldn’t do it yourself.

“I’ll do it. You can’t have this weight on your shoulders. There has to be one of us that has no blood on our hands.”

“No. You don’t get what I mean.” You mustered up the strength to make your expression more hardened. “I want to do it with you. I want to watch. I want to help.”

For the second time, you set him on a speechless path.

“I never thought I’d hurt a person in my life. But now that we have the most precious thing in our hands that we almost lost, I can’t stand to the side and let you deal with all of it like you have been doing. It’s just the four of us now, and you and I are the only ones who can trust the other. No one else will be there to keep us safe, and we need to set an example to those who have tried to hurt our family.”

Jinwoo’s grip on your waist firmed up to keep you close to his heart that was swelling. “You’re not… uh, you're not mad at me for what I did?”

“You were grieving, I don’t think I would have handled it any better. While it’s something I shouldn’t condone, I can’t help seeing the guilt in wanting to participate. Now that I’m a mother, I can’t leave that woman walking around out there, she’s too dangerous.”

He embraced you, nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your smell he missed so much. “You don’t hate me?”

If you did, he couldn’t take that.

“Why would I hate you?”

“Baby, I’m a murderer. I've killed people.”

You lifted his face to look at, wiped his soft tears from his cheeks. “And I’ve just asked you to do more of it. So what kind of person does that make me? I've changed so much-”

“You haven't changed, you're perfect. I’ll do it for you, baby. I’ll kill them all for you, you just have to say the word.”

He couldn’t get over your little chuckle, the way your chest bounced. “Let’s find the doctor first and see how that goes before we think of anyone else. We’ll find her, it might take a little time, but we will.”

How could you get any more perfect? “I love you so much.”

Your eyes were dewy, the low sun hit the back of you just right to show all the lighter shades in your hair, it was like you were never gone, just had the longest sleep ever.

“I love you too.” You kissed the wet by his eyes, and then down his cheek to his jawline. “So much it hurt- still hurts.”

Still hurts. Could you read his mind? Maybe that was your ability if you had one, your old ones vanished without a trace and perhaps the twins gave you new ones. They gave you life, they gave you another chance. Jinwoo could never do that, he’d spend the rest of his life making up for that difference.

He pulled your hair away and kissed your neck, wetting the skin as though his own tears had laid there, sensually, lovingly, forever if he could with each inch of exposed neck and shoulder he invisibly marked.

“Keep me forever, Jinwoo.” You whispered in his ear, setting every hair on his body on end, goosebumps that ached to the final acceptance of himself.

To accept his weaker self, was accepting him right now. His E-Rank self was right about one thing, taking him as he was in front of you, meant you accepted him way back then. An E-Rank, a wimp, a coward. And you still loved him as a murderer, a man with a dark side who never wanted you to see the real him.

Yet you still welcomed him.

So he told you exactly what sat on his mind. “You’re mine. You’re- I need you to be mine forever.”

“Then keep me. I’m yours, love.”

Lips locked like a fairytale, hands wandering over each other in case they disappeared from existence, so that the other could follow in another universe. Gentle, agonisingly in proximity to the gravitational pull of the other, soft words of praise and longing.

“You’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

It never went any further than that. Not tonight. If it did, it would have undone the tension you and Jinwoo created with one another. Both being parents, learning to accept the flaws in themselves and each other, you and Jinwoo encased yourselves in so much love, raw emotion.

You were back. Jinwoo came clean about himself. It brought out the same page you and he had so desperately wanted to read simultaneously.

One week, you both agreed to one week of enjoying the time and taking back what was taken from you. To spend a week with the twins like the family you and Jinwoo should have been the day the babies came into the world.

Unless that doctor took her own life, she wasn’t going anywhere that Jinwoo wouldn’t eventually catch up with her. Even if she fled halfway across the world, Jinwoo would keep his promise. She’d be looking over her shoulder until he came right up behind her and slit her throat slow enough to watch her struggle of breath so long it would make her beg for death.

And Jinwoo wouldn’t give it to her.

He wanted to serve you justice on a silver platter. And he’d make damn sure to get what he wanted.

Part 40 <- Part 41 -> Part 42

TAG LIST RE-OPEN (The tag list is back up and open for a little while, if you'd like to be tagged, please let me know! 🤗)

Thank you for reading and all of the support on this fic! ❤️ Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated and I appreciate you all! See you next time 🤗

Tag list - @bubera974 @snowy-violet @sky2lar @starrynights23x @kamiliora

@yessirr7 @qmabailor @yihona-san06 @mashiromochi @daiyanomochi

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DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime or manhwa. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work, thank you!

[infinitewinderword]

Eternal Twilight⋆・ﾟ:⋆・ﾟ

happy 2 years anniversary for RUIN and for our boy Eclipse! I have been writing and drabbling about Infi and Eclipse's post-canon story for a while! and now is the day i tell you that i put the available chapters up on AO3! this is the first time i've ever written anything and releasing it while being fully proud-ish. i really enjoy writing them... i don't have beta-readers, so this is just everything from my pure angst pilled brain. i hope you like it too!

and if you want to see the first chapter to get you interested, here it is in this post!

---

Chapter 1- losing purpose

588 words warnings: depression, dissociative behaviors.

infi has been working and accommodating to the "virus" that has been slowly taking over moon and making him act weird. lights are on most if not all of the time now, naptime has been pulled out of the schedule with no date set of it returning. she doesn't really get to talk to moon as much anymore, and she has been prohibited from approaching or even being in the same room as him when he's out during the hourly black out after the plex is closed. she was thrown off, yes, but it's what we could only do in a situation like this. she's sure they'll slowly sort it out. sun is acting agitated too. he already is like that sometimes, but you can tell that he's always on edge about the lights.

until one day there were just no job to go to anymore. 

the pizzaplex somehow burned down and collapsed in one night. and infi was left to find out during the morning that she was heading to the pizzaplex. seeing the building completely in ruins and police and firefighters surrounding the area not allowing anyone to go near

she stood still for a while. 

the fire was eventually put out. she stared at it the entire time. waiting to see if something will happen. until she was shooed away by the officers, a notice came in the email that afternoon about the compensation money for the sudden termination. she didn't shed a tear.

still in her uniform, she went to buy groceries at the convenient store some blocks away. picking and choosing the ingredients for what she felt like cooking that evening. her mind was completely absent from reality as she put a can of beer in the basket.

she decided to walk home that day. she wanders with her blank eyes staring off to somewhere unknown as she walks past the world around her then eventually reaching her apartment. putting her bag and things away, she settled down just how she would after a long day of work, sitting on the dusty couch in the middle of her space.

she sat still for the longest time. thinking about everything as it finally sank in that she will not get to see them anymore. 

"sorry i couldn't help much today..." was the last thing she got to say to sun before leaving the daycare for the last time.

the sun was setting. It cast a long shadow with its orange glow into her apartment from the small balcony of her room. the warmth hit her right as her eyes started pouring uncontrollably. tears, snot, drools, and whatever fluid a human body was able to spew out came all at once. she ran to the toilet and vomited out nothing at all. her sobs and cries fill the bathroom with little to no effort. everything felt impossibly heavy. she couldn't lift her head from the seat, nor her arms from the floor. the smell all subdued by all the fluids blocking her nose. 

it took her a while to finally get out of the bathroom. looks like she wouldn't be cooking today after all. 

with nothing else to do, she went back in to take a shower then unceremoniously cried herself to sleep. as she continues in the morning. and many more days to come.

---

it would mean the world to me if you go in and read the fic! i worked very hard on what we have so far, and i plan to write more :D thank you!!

[respectfulrebel]

Another visual representation of me reading not only this chapter but the whole story in general ^

"And were you surprised?!" James asked, and you watched him reach out for something- then a wine glass came into view.

James is such a moooooood 😂😂

"Like a blowjob?"

😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

And in his hands... a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

Ohmygodddd 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

"For someone so pretty..." he teased, "...you're a very dirty girl."

🤭🤭🤭🤭

You held the wraps up between you both, tilting your head innocently, giving him a wide eyed, helpless look.

"Noaahh... I kinda forgot how to do these," you sighed dramatically, a little pout forming on your lips. "Could you help me?"

I love heeer 😂😂

"Is that your way of getting to stare at my hands again?"

🤭 can you blame her?

"What... uh... What song were you singing just then?"

I can hear his heart rate raising from here 😂

"Y'know they're playing at Rockfest this year, right? My friends and I go every year, another one of our little traditions. Bad Omens are headlining on the last day, if I can get an extra ticket do you maybe wanna go with me?"

She is soooo sweet 😭 he had sooo many opportunities to tell her 😭😭😭

You fucking idiot. That was your chance.

Mhmmm :/

"C'mere, pretty girl!"

*dies* “pretty girl” has a special place in my heart 🫠

You could feel him hard beneath you, the thin barrier of your leggings doing little to dull the pressure building between your thighs as you rocked against him slow and steady, your lips never parting from his. Just as you were about to stop, to pull away and respect his wishes knowing what this would most likely lead into, Noah's grip tightened.

Oh god 🫢🫢🫢

"I'm not gonna push you to label anything before you're ready... but I'm not exactly showing up to your family's party just as your... friend."

🤭 basically a husband

"You're restless," he murmured, his hand sliding between your thighs, feeling the tremble already building. "You want me to fuck you?"

Uhhhhh yes sir 😳

"I want to taste you," he whispered, lips brushing your jaw, his voice suddenly trembling from restraint. "I wanna get on my knees and eat you until you can't remember your name... just mine."

He slid them down slowly, even as his hands trembled, his eyes never leaving your body.

Awwww is he nervous or super fucking horny? Or both 🥺🥺

Then he leaned in, kissing your inner thigh, his nose brushing the skin just beside where you needed him most. You gasped, wriggling your hips, and he chuckled under his breath, nuzzling against you before trailing his tongue up your folds, so fucking slow and filthy, groaning like he was the one being touched.

I’m dizzy 🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

"Been thinking about this moment since the second I saw your bedroom," he murmured, his voice raspy. "Everything in here smells like you. Feels like you. Drove me fucking crazy... Couldn't help but picture taking you on your bed."

😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

"Again." He looked up at you, his mouth and chin wet, lips swollen, his voice trembling with need.

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

"Come again," he growled against your clit, sucking and licking in tight circles. "Fuck, please... Come again.. For me."

Noah smirked, but there was something tender in his expression now, something that said this wasn't just about lust, as he couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten a girl out from want and not just to return a favour.

Awwwwww 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

You shook your head, flopping back onto the bed, your heart still pounding at the thought of how Noah had just gone into your bathroom to jerk off with you still lying half naked on the bed.

Honestly, HOT

You didn't want to overthink it. But... you kind of wanted to impress him. Just a little.

Ughh those little details make the story soooo real and relatable 🥺🥺🥺

"I think I'm just... really happy."

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

"Davis."

"What about him?"

"No," he laughed under his breath, running his fingers through your hair. "That's my last name. Davis. Noah Davis."

That made me chuckle 😂😂😂

You nestled even closer, your arm wrapping around his waist, face tucked against the smooth skin of his shoulder. Noah's hand continued its lazy trail across your back, dipping beneath the fabric of your top now and then, just enough to keep goosebumps rising on your skin. There was nothing sexual about it. Just intimacy, closeness and trust.

I’m yearning all over your fic 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Who Are You?

Kickboxer!Noah x Reader

Chapter Seven

chapter warnings: nsfw... overuse of the word endorphins LMAO... i don't think there's really any other warnings, it's just a cute chapter :) (for hygiene reasons, they showered at the gym before going home lmao)

masterlist ♡

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

You shut the front door behind you, your back leaning against it for a moment, your fingertips pressed to your lips, your face hurting from the stupidest grin you’ve probably ever worn in your life. 

You were still trying to let it sink in, to process what the hell had just happened outside your apartment building. 

Noah kissed you.

Noah kissed you!!!

And it didn’t just feel like a goodbye kiss, or a quick peck on the lips. No. It felt real, it was nothing like any kisses you’ve shared before, because it left you wanting more the moment he pulled back… Even just thinking about it had your brain short circuiting, and your tummy feeling fuzzy. 

“Oh my god…” You whispered to yourself. Then, suddenly, the excitement hit you at full force. 

You practically launched yourself off the door, pacing the living room frantically searching for your phone as you bounced on your toes, unable to keep still. You were buzzing from the thrill of it all. 

You spotted your phone on the arm of the couch, and grabbed it with shaky hands as you tried to call your friends, praying they would answer given the time of night. 

“HE KISSED ME!!” You squealed, probably bursting their eardrums through the speakers as they answered. Kylie looked like she was already in bed, and James looked pretty chill in the bath with a face mask on. 

“NO FUCKING WAY!” James gasped, slapping a hand over his mouth. 

“TELL US EVERYTHING!” Kylie grinned, sitting up. 

“DID HE USE HIS TONGUE?!” 

“What was he doing there, I didn’t think he was even back yet?”

You lied stomach down across the couch, kicking your feet behind you as you buried your face into one of the throw pillows. 

“He just kinda turned up, he said he wanted to surprise me-”

“And were you surprised?!” James asked, and you watched him reach out for something- then a wine glass came into view. 

“Yes,” you chuckled, your cheeks still aching from smiling so much, “He came straight over from the airport, and he gave me a little gift he got in France! I asked if he wanted anything after the long flight-”

The moment you saw James smirk, you knew what was about to follow. 

“Like a blowjob?” 

“James, please shut up!” Kylie groaned, “Keep going, I want to know what happened!” 

“Okay, so he took a shower, and I gave him the good towel- y’know the pink one?”

“You’re telling me we’ve used the same towel?” James’ eyes widened. 

“Yeah, and he looked better in it.” You smirked, watching as he scoffed, “Anyways, he comes out of the bathroom, towel too fucking low on his hips… wet hair… tattoos on full display… guys, I don’t know how I didn’t pass out or something, but he kinda saw me staring and I told him he could get changed in my room-”

“Wait… so he’s been in your room?” Kylie gasped, “Please tell me you tidied it!” 

“Well, yeah... my room was tidy but the rest of this place wasn’t. But he didn’t seem to care, he came back out and we sat down, he noticed how fucked my back is and…” 

You swallowed, thinking about the entire situation. 

“And what??”

“Did he crack it for you?”

“No! He gave me a massage though, and then we cuddled for a bit, then he had to go.” They didn’t have to know all the details, Noah had trusted you enough to open up about how he feels, and you were not about to betray that, even if they were your best friends. 

Meanwhile…

Noah sank into the passenger seat, shutting the door a little harder than necessary as if that would somehow block out Matt’s grin, as he wasn’t even trying to hide his amusement. 

“So…” Matt glanced over at Noah mischievously as he pulled away from the curb, only using one hand on the wheel. “You finally kissed her, huh?”

Noah exhaled through his nose, staring out the window, refusing to take the bait. 

“We're not talking about this.”

Matt’s grin only widened. 

“You’re seriously not gonna give me anything? I’ve had to listen to you obsess over this girl for weeks, man. Weeks. Then you finally kiss her and you don’t want to talk about it?... Did she not kiss you back?”

“No, she did.” Noah said with a heavy sigh. 

“Then what is it?” Matt asked, glancing over at him again, “Did she ask where you’ve been? Like what your ‘work’ is?”

“Not really.” Noah shook his head, “She knows I travel a lot. She doesn’t push.”

“Huh.” Matt’s brow lifted slightly. “That’s kind of rare, you know. Usually people get curious.”

“She just… trusts me, I guess,” Noah shrugged, “Or maybe she’s just being polite. But I feel like now things are kinda getting more serious, I need to find a way to tell her soon.”

Matt hummed under his breath as he turned a corner. 

“Yeah… you probably should. You wouldn’t like it if she was hiding something big like this from you, you’d feel…”

“Betrayed.” Noah nodded, finishing his sentence. He knew Matt had a point. There was a little moment of silence, and Noah turned his head, watching the city go by as these thoughts weighed on his mind. 

“Tell her when you’re ready,” Matt offered gently. “But don’t leave it too late. She’s clearly into you, it’s more than obvious. You’ve still got time, but I wouldn’t leave it much longer…”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I’ll tell her. I just need to find the right time…”

“When you’re ready,” Matt repeated, his teasing grin returning. “But maybe after you sleep with her… soften the blow.”

“Dude.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to help you out!”

You weren’t brought up for the rest of the ride home, which Noah was thankful for. 

It didn’t take too long to get home, but it was still late. He kicked his shoes off by the door, and made his way up the stairs with his bags, straight to his room. 

He dumped his bags by his closet, telling himself he’d unpack tomorrow, and sank down onto the edge of his bed with his phone already in his hand, and you on his mind. 

Noah: Just got back home.

He stared at the message for a second, debating if that was too short. He hesitated… then added:

Noah: I’m sorry again for leaving so soon… I really didn’t want to. Maybe one night I could stay, if that’s okay with you? I’d invite you to mine but I’ve got roommates…

He rubbed his hand over his face, exhaling through his nose as he started typing again. 

Next time I see you, there’s something I want to tell you.

Noah’s thumb hovered over the send button, his heart pounding in fear, his jaw clenched.

No.

He couldn’t do it. Not just yet.

With a frustrated sigh, he backspaced the last part, watching it all slowly disappear. Then, instead, he typed:

Noah: Sleep well, text me when you wake up

Send.

The message was delivered with a little sound, and Noah let his head fall back against the wall behind him, shutting his eyes.

God, you were making it impossible to keep his head straight.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep this a secret forever, it was sure to come out sooner or later. He just didn’t want you to hear it from somebody else, he wanted to be the one to tell you, to explain exactly why he didn’t want to tell you, and he needed to do it soon. 

Before it was too late.

…

Tuesday had come around again, but you weren’t sure you had it in you tonight. You’d spent the entire week buried in overtime, draining every last drop of energy from your body and leaving your brain feeling like mush. But class was starting soon, you still had to get up, get dressed and drag yourself across the street for kickboxing- but you felt so fucking tired.

You sighed, still sitting on your couch, the same spot you had sat in when you got home. You threw a hoodie on when you got a little cold but you were still in your work clothes beneath, staring blankly at the floor as you debated whether to tell Noah you weren’t making it tonight. 

He had been texting you all week, always checking in, always making sure you were taking care of yourself, being ridiculously sweet even though you hadn’t seen him since the night he got back. You hadn’t had time. 

But you told him everything. How awful work had been. How overworked you were. How you wished you could see him, but you just didn’t have the time. He understood, he even offered to pick you up from work one day if it just meant he could see you, and you could skip the awful commute home, but you hadn’t seen his text until you were already halfway home. 

You let out a long sigh and reached for your phone- but then a knock at your door made you freeze. 

You frowned, a little confused. You weren’t expecting anyone. Slowly, you got up and headed over to the door, your body sore from sitting still for too long.

Your breath caught as you swung the door open- Noah was standing there.

He wore a shy smile, his messy hair a little damp from the rain outside, his gym bag slung over his shoulder…

And in his hands… a beautiful bouquet of flowers. 

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart melt just a little.

“Hi,” he said softly, a little breathless like maybe he was nervous. He lifted the flowers between you with a sheepish smile. “These are for you.”

You were a little stunned, you hadn’t expected him to turn up to your house unannounced again, and you certainly didn’t expect him to bring you flowers?

“Noah…” you whispered, stepping back to let him in, turning away as you tried to hide your flustered grin. “What are you doing here? Class starts soon-”

“I was gonna go straight to the gym,” he shrugged, stepping inside. “But someone’s been working way too hard and didn’t sound like she was gonna make it tonight… I just wanted to come by and see if I could change your mind, or if not… maybe you want some company here?”

You stared at him, feeling your heart melt. You didn’t know what to say… His cheeks blushed a little, but he covered it with a soft smirk, setting the flowers down on your table.

Without really thinking, you threw your arms around him, your cheek into his chest as he wrapped his arms tightly around you in return, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“You know,” he murmured softly as he smiled down at you, “I’m so proud of you.”

“For what?” You asked, blinking up at him.

“For never quitting,” he said, leaning in, his nose brushing yours for half a second before he pulled back with that stupid, adorable grin. “For still showing up, to work and the gym, even when you don’t want to.”

You groaned, hiding your face in his chest. He smelled extra good tonight…

“I wasn’t gonna turn up.” You confessed, “I was literally just about to text you.”

“I thought so.” He smirked. “That’s why I’m here.”

You tilted your head back, your cheeks a little pink as you looked up at him. 

“You’re evil, you know I wouldn't be able to say no to you.”

“Mm, maybe.” He stepped back slightly, grabbing your gym bag, his eyes glinting. “But I know you’ve been looking forward to training with me again all week, don’t lie.”

You hated how right he was.

“But I’m tired.” You frowned. 

“You’ll feel better after,” he promised, gently nudging your arm as he held the bag out to you. “Maybe you just need the endorphins.”

You narrowed your eyes, but you already took the bag from him. 

“Fine,” you mumbled, but your smile was giving you away. “But only cause you brought me pretty flowers.”

You quickly slipped away into your room to get changed, and you couldn’t stop thinking about what stupid remark James would’ve had to make about Noah’s comment about endorphins… You even chuckled to yourself, making a mental note to tell James about it later, knowing exactly what he’d say. 

Your hoodie was pulled halfway over your head as you stepped back out of your bedroom, grabbing your phone with a sigh as you followed him to the door. His hand brushed the small of your back, lingering just a little longer than necessary as you locked up behind you.

“For the record,” you grinned as you both headed toward the elevator, “There are other ways to release endorphins besides kickboxing…”

You didn’t even have to look to know the smirk that was spreading across Noah’s face. His hand squeezed yours gently, his voice whispering low beside your ear.

“For someone so pretty…” he teased, “…you’re a very dirty girl.”

Your cheeks burned, heat flashing through your entire body you as you glared at him, bumping your shoulder into his.

“I didn’t mean that! You just exposed your own filthy mind, mister.”

“Mhm.” Noah’s grin only widened as he trailed beside you into the elevator, his hand sliding around your waist again casually like he just couldn’t help himself, like he was just gravitating towards you. “Sure, sweetheart. Blame me.”

You rolled your eyes, but a soft laugh escaped you anyway, and as much as you hated to admit it, his presence was already helping with the exhaustion. His teasing, the flowers, the way he made your heart skip… yeah, class wasn’t sounding so bad after all.

You walked side by side down the street, your gym bag over your shoulder- Noah insisted on carrying it half the way, teasing that you looked too exhausted to be lugging things around, but eventually you took it back, bumping his arm with yours.

It was already starting to ger dark out by the time you arrived at the gym, the streetlights already glowing, casting their light onto the pavement. You hesitated for half a second, nerves creeping up on you- you were tired tonight, what if you embarrass yourself, or fall on your ass again, what if Noah’s friends were there and whisk him away again?

Noah noticed, as always. It was like had a crazy sixth sense for your overthinking. 

“Are you okay?” His voice was quiet as he turned to look at you, stopping just outside the entrance. 

“Yeah…” You nodded.

Noah’s eyes softened. 

“We’ll take it easy, okay?”

You nodded and stepped inside together, you could already hear the music and the instructor from the spin class shouting out instructions- thank god you weren’t a part of that class tonight. 

It felt oddly intimate walking into the class with Noah, knowing you had a little secret… the texts, the calls, the oddly sensual massage, the kiss, the flowers… only the two of you knew about that here. And here is where it all began. 

The second you stepped onto the mat with Noah, that familiar little space in the corner of the gym you always gravitated towards, you couldn’t help but think back to the first class, how flustered he made you with every look, the way you reacted when you heard the sound of his voice for the first time- he still had this effect on you now. You thought back on how exciting it all felt when it was new, and how it still felt exactly the same even a couple months later.

Noah guided you through stretches, and the usual warm up routine you both stuck to. His hand occasionally brushed your back or shoulder, fixing your form.

But eventually, it was time to wrap your hands.

You knelt down by your bag, pulling out the black hand wraps Noah had given you weeks ago, your fingers fumbling slightly on purpose as you unrolled the fabric. You could feel him watching you, a look of amusement on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest, chuckling under his breath.

You held the wraps up between you both, tilting your head innocently, giving him a wide eyed, helpless look.

“Noaahh… I kinda forgot how to do these,” you sighed dramatically, a little pout forming on your lips. “Could you help me?”

Noah raised an eyebrow, a cocky little smirk on his face as he crouched down in front of you.

“You forgot, huh?” he murmured, taking the wrap from your hand, his fingers brushing your palm, “That’s funny… you didn’t seem to have any trouble last time when you were showing Matt how to do it.”

You froze, blinking up at him, warmth crawling up your cheeks. And Noah noticed instantly, his smirk only growing.

“Busted.” He whispered under his breath, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine as he started to wrap your hand.

You opened your mouth, trying to defend yourself, but nothing came out. Your gaze fell to where his fingers worked, wrapping the material through each of your fingers.

"Okay, well maybe I forgot selectively…" You admitted quietly.

Noah chuckled lowly, finishing the first hand and brushing his thumb over the back of your palm before grabbing the second wrap.

"Selective memory…" he teased softly with a little nod, his long, tattooed fingers curling around your wrist, holding it steady. "Is that your way of getting to stare at my hands again?"

Your mouth dried as your eyes darted back to his, his face was inches from yours now, his breath warm, and his smirk entirely too proud.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. 

"…Maybe. I just like when you do it for me…" You confessed, trying to ignore the warmth in your cheeks.

Noah tried to hide what that did to him, how his own stomach flipped just a little at your words. But, of course, he was excellent at hiding it. You needed him to teach you his secret. 

Before you could say anything else, Noah leaned back, pushing up to his feet in one quick movement. His hand smoothed gently over your knee before he stepped away towards where the equipment was kept. 

You exhaled, finally letting your shoulders drop, only to immediately tense again when you realised he was grabbing gloves and pads, tossing a pair of gloves to you as he came back. 

“C’mon,” he called with a smirk. “Let’s see how good you are tonight.”

…

You were actually glad Noah got you to come today, your stress from the week was melting away as you threw your fists, the world shrinking down to just you and him as he started calling out combos, holding up the pads for you to hit. 

You even felt your body relaxing, even as your muscles worked. But, no matter how focused you were, you couldn’t miss the way Noah watched you with a proud smile, even when he’d tease you for your attempt at another roundhouse kick. 

After one particularly good combo, his brows lifted, his lips curling into that proud grin again.

“See? Knew you had it in you tonight,” he praised softly, lowering the pads for a second as you stopped to take a quick water break. “I gotta know how Matt knocked you on your ass last time.”

You nearly choked on your water. His eyes narrowed slightly, clearly noticing.

“Oh,” you coughed, wiping your mouth, “He, um… he just told me something that caught me off guard.”

Shit, Noah thought, did he tell her the truth? Does she know? Is that why she avoided me all week, what if she was lying about overtime?

“What kinda something?” Noah asked casually, but you noticed there was an edge to it, a touch of nervousness in his voice.

You hesitated, fingers twisting around the cap of your water bottle, eyes lifting to meet his.

Do you tell him? Do you let him know how Matt exposed how he talks about you… and thinks about you… in that way? 

Noah’s eyes searched yours, the faintest crease forming between his brows, his usual teasing expression faltering for a moment.

“What did he say?” He asked again, quieter this time.

Your heart pounded loud in your chest, your cheeks burning as Noah’s eyes stayed locked on yours, softer but still edged with that worry. You could tell his mind was racing… probably assuming the worst.

You exhaled slowly, twisting the cap of your bottle again until it clicked, your gaze dropping for a second before you found the courage to meet his eyes again.

“He, uh…” You cleared your throat, “Matt said… that you… talk about me.”

“Talk about you… how?”

Your face flushed even hotter. God, you could lie, brush it off, say Matt was teasing. But part of you wanted to be honest… and to let him know you weren’t completely innocent either.

“He told me how… apparently the walls at your place are kinda thin… and uh... he hears things.” You said softly, watching his reaction.

Noah stilled. His lips parted, but no sound came out, the briefest look of panic flashing across his face as the realisation hit. His hand ran through his hair, eyes shutting for half a second as he muttered under his breath.

“Fucking Matt…”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the smile threatening to betray your nerves. 

“Is it true?” You asked.

Noah’s eyes snapped open, meeting yours again, still flustered, but still undeniably fond. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his voice a little hoarse now.

“You sure do like to ask a lot of questions, don’t you?” He teased weakly, his confidence clearly a little shaken.

You tilted your head.

“I just wanna know.” You whispered, standing up from the bench, but Noah was still sitting, his legs spread. 

Noah exhaled a breathy laugh, shaking his head. He looked up at you, then down at your hand, and his fingers gently wrapped around your wrist, tugging you slightly closer, so you were stood in between his legs.  

“Yeah…” He admitted, his thumb brushing over your skin. “It’s true.”

Your breath caught, not from shock, but from the way his eyes met yours as he confessed. His fingers still lingered around your wrist, his thumb brushing the back of your palm over the wrap, your bodies closer than they probably should be in public.

“Funny thing is…” You licked your lips, your own nerves dissolving now you felt a little more confident. “You’re not the only one who’s… thought like that...”

Noah’s brows raised slightly, the corners of his lips curving into an almost shy smile.

“Oh?” His voice was quieter and a little rough with surprise. “You’ve been thinking about me too, huh?”

You only smiled, letting your silence answer for you.

The way his eyes darkened, the soft shake of his head… yeah, Noah was flustered. And it was freaking adorable.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know,” he muttered under his breath, biting back a grin. But then, he got back up on his feet with a sigh, dropping your wrist. “Endorphins… that’s what we came here for.”

You shrugged innocently, grabbing your gloves again. 

“Endorphins come in many ways, pretty boy…”

…

You and Noah had been sparring for a while, and you could feel your limbs starting to ache a little now, and it was definitely time for another water break. There was only about 10 minutes left of the class, so you handed Noah your bottle, asking if he could fill it up again for you whilst you put the gloves and pads away. 

You turned back around to see him still standing at the water fountain, and you decided to join him, pulling your hairband out as you wandered over- you didn’t need a mirror to know it was a mess right now. 

“Here.” He said, gently holding your bottle out. You took it with a little nod. 

“Thanks.” You said through gritted teeth, your hairband between your teeth as you tried to gather all your hair into a ponytail. 

You absentmindedly started singing along to a song under your breath, you had it stuck in your head for a couple days now… completely forgetting it was a Bad Omens song, until Noah’s head snapped to look at you. 

“Weigh down on me… Stay ‘til morning… Weigh down- What?” You asked suddenly, there was a look in his eyes that you couldn’t even begin to explain, it was like he’d seen a ghost. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. 

He completely froze, water running down his hand from his overflowing bottle. He quickly pulled it back, screwing the cap on and trying to collect himself. 

“What… uh… What song were you singing just then?”

“Just pretend,” you said with a proud little smile, “Me and my friends decided to check out that band that you like, Bad Omens? I think they’re pretty cool, that guys voice is so hot, I wish I knew what he looked like.” 

“...You don’t?” He just blinked at you.

“No, he was wearing a mask in all the pictures I’ve seen, kinda guessed he’s one of those sexy, mysterious, anonymous guys.” 

Noah swallowed hard. All he could do was nod. 

“Yeah… I’ve uh… heard that too.”

“Y’know they’re playing at Rockfest this year, right? My friends and I go every year, another one of our little traditions. Bad Omens are headlining on the last day, if I can get an extra ticket do you maybe wanna go with me?”

Just tell her, Noah. You have the perfect chance, just say it, just-

“Oh, uh… I dunno… I might be working.” 

“Oh,” you said with a little chuckle, “That’s fair. I’ll make sure I record their set for you, I’m super excited to see them!”

“Yeah, they put on a hell of a show…”

“Have you seen them before?” You asked, tilting your head. 

“Yeah. A couple times.” Noah nodded.

You fucking idiot. That was your chance. 

… 

“My friends want to meet you,” you said, turning your head to look at Noah, who was walking beside you with his head down. He’s been acting a little weird since the end of class, and you weren’t as good of a mind reader as him, so you couldn’t quite tell why, “If that’s okay…? I know you’ve kinda met them before but it was only brief, but ever since I told them that I met Matt and Davis they’ve seemed a little jealous.” 

“Yeah,” Noah nodded his head, meeting your gaze, “I’d love to.”

“I don’t know why,” you giggled, approaching the door to your apartment building, “They’re like feral children, they’re little shits.” 

Noah laughed under his breath, coming to a pause with you outside the building. 

“I could say the same about my friends, but you seemed to like them.” 

“I did!” You chuckled, taking your gym bag from Noah. You didn’t want him to leave just yet, it had been a long week, and now you’re with him again you don’t want him to leave.

“...Are you busy tonight?” You asked quietly, almost a little shy. 

“Nope.” He shook his head

“Do you wanna come in for a bit?... Kylie’s visiting her brother at the moment and James is on a date, so there’ll be no interruptions this time?”

“No interruptions, huh?” he smirked, before tilting his head as if considering it, but the teasing tone in his voice kinda gave him away. You tried not to show how nervous you suddenly felt, watching him so carefully, waiting for his answer even though you thought you already knew what he would say. 

“Only if you want to,” you added quickly, biting your lip. “No pressure.”

“No, I’d like that,” he said softly, his voice a little warmer as he nodded. “I’d really like that.”

The tight knot in your chest finally loosened, and your shoulders dropped with relief as you gave him a small, grateful smile. He followed you up to your place, and you unlocked the door, holding it open for him as he followed you inside.

It was just the two of you now. No class. No friends. No distractions. No other plans. Just you and him for the first time... ever?

Noah kicked his shoes off by the door, slipping his hoodie off and draping it over the back of your couch like he’d done this a thousand times before, like he was already comfortable here. You were glad he felt comfortable here.

“Do you want a drink?” you asked as you placed your gym bag down, heading into the kitchen. “I wish I could offer you something interesting but I need to go shopping, I’ve only got water at the moment.”

“No, waters perfect, thank you.” He called back with a smile, sitting on the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he ran a hand through his messy hair.

You handed him a glass of water and curled up on the opposite end of the couch, tucking your legs beneath you, your eyes lingering on him for a moment longer than necessary before you turned the tv on.

Noah took the glass with a grateful smile, his fingers brushing yours as you handed it over. You watched as he took a sip, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, his jaw flexing just the slightest. God, it was unfair how good he looked doing the simplest of things.

You tilted your head, giving him a look, soft but also expectant, your lips twitching like you were holding back a smirk. Noah caught it instantly, his brow raising with quiet amusement. 

“What?” he asked, his voice warm with a little laugh as he set the glass down on the table. “What do you want?”

Your face warmed as you smiled, shrugging innocently.

“Cuddles?” You admitted, eyes dropping shyly to your lap before looking at him again. “You give the best ones… and I’ve kinda missed them… And after the week I’ve had-”

Noah just cut you off with a chuckle, opening his arms, motioning for you to come closer. 

 “C’mere, pretty girl.”

You didn’t hesitate, sliding across the couch as he pulled you into his side, your head tucking beneath his chin as his arm wrapped snugly around you. The warmth of him, the way his hand rubbed slow circles over your side, it was the safest, most calmest place in the world.

You really let yourself really relax for the first time in days, melting against him as your fingers absently played with the hem of his shirt.

A few moments passed in comfortable quiet before you tilted your head, looking up at him.

“Is everything okay?” you asked softly, your brows knitting together. “You seemed a little… I dunno, weird after class.”

Noah’s thumb paused for a second on your side, but then he exhaled, his hand resuming its gentle motions. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, though his eyes stayed distant for a beat too long. “Just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

“You can talk to me, y’know.” You reminded him quietly, your fingers brushing lightly along the tattoos on his arm.

“I know,” he whispered, pressing his lips to your hairline with a gentle kiss. “I will… I promise. Just not tonight, yeah?”

You nodded against his chest, snuggling even closer as his arm around you tightened. You didn’t push him, despite how curious your brain was, you respected every boundary he set.

The two of you seemed happy and content like this, neither of you were in a rush to do anything, so you were just taking in each others company, each others touch. 

But eventually, your eyes lifted, meeting his again. You caught yourself staring at him, and how he looked in the soft glow of your lamp from the corner of the living room, your fingers stilling against his arm as your lips twitched.

“What?” He asked again, his lips curving into a little smirk. You bit back your smile as your gaze dropped to his lips, remembering exactly how they felt on yours.

“I was just thinking… about the kiss,” you admitted softly, the words slipping out before your brain could stop them. “I haven’t really stopped thinking about it.”

“Yeah? You're not the only one.” Noah confessed, his hand stilling at your side, just holding you close to him. 

You bit down on your lip, your gaze dropping to his mouth again as his hand slid from your waist down to your hip. 

You shifted ever so slightly, your fingers curling lightly into his shirt as you tilted your head, moving closer. Noah met you halfway, his hand beneat your chin, guiding you gently as your lips brushed over his, soft at first, like you were both still testing how this new dynamic between you worked… It had been a long time since either of you had really kissed anybody.

The, the kiss deepened, his hand slid up your spine, fingers curling into your hair as he tilted his head even more, drawing you in closer. Your other hand flattened against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm, knowing you were doing that to him.

Noah guided you into his lap, shifting you until you were straddling him, your knees either side of his thighs, without breaking the kiss. 

You braced your hands on his shoulders, your breath catching at the motion, your lips slightly parted when he finally pulled back to look at you. His eyes were sparkling with a mix of need and restraint, and he smirked up at you. 

“No sex…” You whispered as you leaned back in, your nose brushing his as your lips hovered just above his, “You wanted to take it slow, right?”

“No sex,” Noah repeated with a soft nod, his hands squeezing your hips just a little, “But you’re making it real hard to behave, angel.” 

“Then give in.” You grinned, your forehead resting against his, your fingers at the nape of his neck as his hands slid beneath the hem of your shirt, fingertips teasing along your bare skin… but not crossing the line.

He kissed you deeper again, slow at first, but with each brush of his lips over yours his restraint unraveled further.

Noah’s hands slid higher beneath your shirt, calloused fingertips tracing your ribs, just shy of your chest, close enough to make you ache for more, but staying maddeningly in bounds.

“You’re a little devil.” He whispered against your lips, his voice rough, his breath catching as you rolled your hips. You didn't mean to at first, but after his reaction you started doing it a little more intentionally.

“Oh, but you love it.” You whispered back, grinning wickedly against his lips.

His low groan in response confirmed it. One of his hands slid up your back again, pulling you impossibly closer as your hips pressed down into his.

You could feel him hard beneath you, the thin barrier of your leggings doing little to dull the pressure building between your thighs as you rocked against him slow and steady, your lips never parting from his. Just as you were about to stop, to pull away and respect his wishes knowing what this would most likely lead into, Noah's grip tightened. 

His hands guided your hips, the friction drawing little gasps out of you between messy kisses, your body flush to his as he muttered under his breath…

“You're so beautiful like this…”

Your only reply was a breathless laugh, hips rolling again, completely shameless now. Your head tipped back as his lips trailed down your jaw, across your throat, then you felt his teeth graze at your pulse point.

It was starting to completely spiral now, you weren't sure what this would lead up to, but you let Noah take the lead. Your hands tangled in his hair, hips grinding just right, the friction making your thighs tremble.

And then your phone rang!

Both of you froze, your eyes wide, breaths still laboured as you stared at each other, Noah’s lips swollen, his pupils blown wide, his hands still locked around your hips like he wasn’t ready to let go..

With a groan, you reached over the coffee table for it, glancing at the screen. 

“It’s my Aunt.” You whispered, your voice still breathless and now mortified.

Noah's expression changed into an amused grin, his chest still heaving beneath you.

“Perfect timing.” He teased, breathless, his head tipping back against the couch, a little chuckle escaping him.

You covered your face with one hand as you answered the call.

“Hi, Auntie…” Your voice cracked, still dazed and trying desperately to sound normal as Noah's hand slid teasingly up your thigh, his grin entirely too smug.

This man was evil.

You scrambled to sit up properly, hopping off Noah’s lap as his hand chased after you, fingers curling around your hip with a wicked grin, until you shot him a warning glare that made him chuckle under his breath, finally relenting as you pressed the phone to your ear.

“Hey, Auntie!” You repeated, your voice still breathless, praying she wouldn’t guess what you’d just been up to. “What’s up?”

Noah stayed sprawled on the couch, his eyes glued to you, one arm thrown across the back of the cushions, legs spread, hair a mess, lips redder and swollen, smug as ever- and also completely unbothered.

“I was just calling to remind you about the party next weekend,” your aunt chirped, completely oblivious to the sinful scene she just interrupted. “You are coming, aren’t you? Everyone will be there. It’s been ages since your cousin’s wedding, but the family hasn’t really had a chance to celebrate!”

“Yeah, I’m coming,” you managed, glancing at Noah as you tucked your legs beneath you. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Good! ...Are you bringing that boy with you?” She asked, far too casually.

You froze. 

“What boy?”

Noah’s head tilted, curiosity sparking as he sat up slightly.

“The one James tells me about! The tall, handsome one you’ve been going to that muay thai thing with,” your aunt said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “What’s his name… Neil- no, it’s Noah, right?”

Your eyes darted to him. Noah’s brows shot up, clearly caught off guard. 

“You’ve told your family about me?” He mouthed, a smirk tugging at his lips, teasing you even despite his surprise.

You covered the phone with your hand, whispering, 

“James lives next door to her…” And that explained everything.

Noah huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

“Is he there with you now?” Your aunt continued, still on speaker.

Before you could lie your way out of it, Noah leaned in slightly, his voice smooth and entirely too smug as he spoke loud enough for the phone to pick up, 

“Hi, y/n's auntie…”

Your jaw dropped as heat flooded your face. Noah just grinned wider, thoroughly enjoying himself right now.

“Oh! He is there,” your aunt laughed, far too pleased. “Well, I’ll let you two lovebirds go… but I better see him at the party.”

“Uh... we’ll see,” you muttered, flustered beyond belief as Noah’s hand slid teasingly along your thigh again, his expression pure trouble.

“Bye, sweetie. And Noah… be good!.” Your aunt chuckled before hanging up.

You tossed the phone onto the table, face burning as Noah laughed quietly beside you.

“So… I’ve been family approved?” He teased, leaning in again, his hand resting comfortably on your thigh like he’d never stopped touching you.

“Apparently,” you muttered, shaking your head, “God, I can’t believe you spoke to her-”

“Hey, you’re the one telling your whole family about me,” he grinned, nudging your knee with his, “Kinda cute.”

“I wasn’t the one telling them!” You covered your face with your hands, but Noah only tilted his head, pulling you towards him again. 

“I know, I’m just teasing you…” He smirked.

You hesitated for a moment, gnawing on your lip before quietly asking. 

“So, if you do come to the party… Are you coming as my friend? Or…?”

Your voice trailed off, uncertainty hanging between you. You hadn’t exactly labelled this...

Noah’s expression shifted, his head tilting as his eyes studied you.

“I’ll come as whatever you want me to be.” He replied simply.

Your breath caught at that. You weren’t sure what answer you expected… but that? That melted your heart entirely.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering by your jaw, thumb brushing gently over your cheekbone. 

“I’m not gonna push you to label anything before you’re ready… but I’m not exactly showing up to your family’s party just as your… friend.”

A tiny smile pulled at your lips, nervous and shy. 

“Not just my friend?”

His brows lifted, his smirk creeping back on his face.

“No, angel… I think it’s a little more than that, don’t you?”

Your cheeks heated up, but you leaned into his touch without absentmindeldy, your eyes fluttering shut briefly at the feeling of his palm against your skin.

“Okay,” you whispered, “But just… tell me if I overthink it all, yeah?”

He laughed quietly, resting his forehead to yours, his thumb tracing gentle lines along your cheek. 

“You? Overthink? Never.”

You swatted his chest playfully, but your smile only grew as he closed the space between you, his lips pressing to yours again, but you quickly pulled back, whispering against his lips. 

“Stay tonight… Please? If you haven't got plans?” You gave him your best doe eyes, and your most persuasive little smile. He chuckled under his breath, sliding his hand up your back. 

“You give me those big eyes and expect me to say no?” He shakes his head, amusement in his tone, “I’ll stay.” 

“...So does that mean we can, uh.. finish what we started?” You teased, biting your lip.

Noah pretended to think for a moment, then he didn’t answer with words. 

He moved instead, lips crashing into yours, pulling you into his lap again like it was instinct, like he couldn’t bear even an inch of space between you anymore. You grinned into the kiss, giggling as his arms wrapped tight around your waist, dragging your body flush against his.

You gasped when his hands found the hem of your shirt, slipping beneath it again like he was starved for your skin. His hands slowly dragged upwards, skimming under your bra, and you arched into him without meaning to, your hips rolling, your breath catching as he groaned.

The couch creaked beneath your shifting weight, and still Noah’s hands didn’t stop… one trailing up your back, the other gripping your thigh, holding you firm to his lap as you rocked against him.

But it wasn’t enough. Not for either of you.

He leaned in, catching your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging it before letting go. His breath was ragged.

“You’re restless,” he murmured, his hand sliding between your thighs, feeling the tremble already building. “You want me to fuck you?”

Your whole body went still. The way he said it, the huskiness of his voice made your breath hitch, but there was no mocking to be found in his tone, or teasing. Only want.

“I do, more than anything,” you whispered honestly. “But I don’t want to push you...”

Noah paused.

Then kissed you again, his hands firm on your hips like he needed you to feel everything he didn’t know how to say.

When he pulled back, his voice was hoarse. 

“I’m sorry baby, I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet. But fuck-” he kissed you again, harder this time, pulling a breathless sound from your throat, “-I still want to make you feel good.”

Your eyes fluttered open, lips parted as your heart skipped a little.

“Yeah?”

“I want to taste you,” he whispered, lips brushing your jaw, his voice suddenly trembling from restraint. “I wanna get on my knees and eat you until you can’t remember your name… just mine.”

Your stomach flipped, and heat rushed between your thighs. You whimpered.

He shifted suddenly, guiding you down onto the couch beneath him, laying you out so gently it made your heart ache just a bit. He hovered over you, kissing down your neck, your chest, until he reached the hem of your shirt.

He looked up. Waiting for your okay.

You nodded, and that was all he needed.

He lifted your shirt and pressed open mouthed kisses across your stomach, your hips, until he reached the waistband of your leggings. He slid them down slowly, even as his hands trembled, his eyes never leaving your body.

Once your leggings and panties were gone, he settled himself between your thighs, one hand gripping your knee, spreading you open as his breath hit your core.

“Fuck…” he whispered, staring at you like you were something holy. He gently parted your folds, his eyes growing darker as he took in the sight of you. “Look at you.”

Then he leaned in, kissing your inner thigh, his nose brushing the skin just beside where you needed him most. You gasped, wriggling your hips, and he chuckled under his breath, nuzzling against you before trailing his tongue up your folds, so fucking slow and filthy, groaning like he was the one being touched.

But almost immediately, he stopped, leaving you a little confused as you blinked down at him.  

“Noah?”

He looked up at you, already breathless, his hands still gripping your thighs as he shook his head. 

“Couch is too small,” he muttered, his voice full of hunger. “I can’t… fuck, I need to spread you out.”

Your heart pounded.

He stood quickly, scooping you up before you could even react, your legs wrapping around him instinctively as he whispered against your lips…

“Bedroom?”

“Yes.” You nodded, already feeling dizzy. 

He carried you like you weighed nothing, kissing you breathlessly as he stumbled down the hall and into your room. Then, the second your back hit the mattress, Noah was on top of you.

He wasn’t rough in the slightest, but there was something so feral behind his eyes, like all the restraint he'd shown since the moment he met you had finally run dry, and now there was just pure want.

He dragged your thighs apart again, settling between them like he belonged there, like it was the only place he ever wanted to be. His hands slid up your calves, over your knees, spreading you even wider with a low groan like he needed the space to work. 

He leaned forward, kissing your inner thigh, then the other, doing it so slow and soft that it almost felt torturous.

“Been thinking about this moment since the second I saw your bedroom,” he murmured, his voice raspy. “Everything in here smells like you. Feels like you. Drove me fucking crazy… Couldn’t help but picture taking you on your bed.”

“Noah…” You whined as yout stomach fluttered, the ache between your legs growing more and more unbeatable.

“I know I said I wouldn’t fuck you tonight,” he breathed, mouth hovering just above your core, “But that doesn’t mean I can't make you feel good. And I’m not stopping until you come twice.”

Before you could respond, he licked a slow stripe between your folds, and your back arched off the mattress with a cry. You were soaked, still so sensitive already from everything before, and he groaned at the taste of you like it physically pained him to go slow.

So he didn’t...

He buried his face between your thighs with a low groan, his mouth sloppily taking you apart as his hands locked around your hips, keeping you right where he wanted you. You gasped his name, one hand flying to his hair as the other gripped the sheets, anchoring yourself to anything as you started to feel as though you might just float away.

But god, it was messy, loud, and so fucking good. You had only ever been eaten out once before, and you could tell the guy you were with wasn’t too into it, it was like he was doing it because he felt like he had to. But with Noah, this felt like a much different story. He licked and sucked like he was trying to drink you down, moaning against you every time your hips bucked, every time you cried out.

“You taste so fucking good,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin. “You’re gonna come in my mouth, baby. Give it to me.”

Your thighs trembled, and you felt your belly tense... It was too much- the obscene slick sounds, the heat, the way he groaned like this was just for his pleasure… And when he flattened his tongue and sucked your clit between his lips, that was it. 

Your whole body locked up, a broken sob catching in your throat as you came hard,your thighs clamping around his head, your fingers tangling tighter in his hair. He didn’t stop. Not even a little.

He groaned when you came, kissing your lips down there like your orgasm only made him hungrier. He licked you through it, like he was savoring every second. But even when your body began to twitch from the overstimulation of it all, even when you whimpered his name, breathless and in a daze, he didn’t stop.

“Again.” He looked up at you, his mouth and chin wet, lips swollen, his voice trembling with need.

“Noah-” You gasped, your thighs already shaking.

He slid two fingers inside you before you could even finish thinking about what you were going to say.

You gasped. So loud, in fact, you were already planning your apology to the neighbours.

The stretch felt perfect, and he knew just what to do with his fingers as he curled them inside you. You were still pulsing from the first orgasm, and now your body was being dragged right back toward the edge, kicking and screaming.

His mouth was on you again a second later.

“Come again,” he growled against your clit, sucking and licking in tight circles. “Fuck, please… Come again… For me.”

You were utterly gone, you could already feel your brain turning to mush, the stress of the last week now feeling like a very distant memory as your second orgasm hit harder than the first. Your voice broke as you moaned his name, your body trembling beneath him as his fingers still worked you through it, his mouth still on you. 

He didn’t stop until you were crying out, hips jerking away from his mouth as your whole body gave out beneath him. And only then did he pull back, his chest heaving, the bottom half of his face slick with you, his jaw tight like he was barely holding himself together, like it was taking everything not to go any further. 

He kissed the inside of your thigh one last time, a lot gentler now, before crawling up your body and hovering above you, his face almost as flushed as yours. 

You were still gasping, lips parted, eyes glazed when you cupped his face in your hand. 

“Holy shit.” You whispered, stlightly dazed as your eyes fell shut, a little laugh slipping out. 

Noah smirked, but there was something tender in his expression now, something that said this wasn’t just about lust, as he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten a girl out from want and not just to return a favour. He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then finally your lips, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“You okay?” He whispered, brushing hair from your face.

“Yes.” You nodded weakly. “That… I’ve never felt anything like that.”

"Endorphins." He chuckled quietly, tucking you into his arms, pulling the blankets over your bare legs like he wasn’t still painfully hard in his sweats- and you could feel it as your legs tangled.

“You didn’t come.” You whispered after a moment, blinking up at him, so you propped yourself up on one elbow, brushing your fingers lightly down his chest. “My turn to return the favour.” You said softly, letting your hand trail toward his waistband.

But before you could reach it, Noah gently caught your wrist.

You looked up.

“No.” He said quietly.

“No?” You frowned. 

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips as if to reassure you that it wasn’t you. As he pulled back, you nuzzled closer into his chest, and you heard him whisper. 

“Tonight wasn’t about me. I wanted to take care of you. That was for me.” 

“But you’re still-” You looked down at the obvious outline of him in his joggers.

“I’ve been hard since the minute you climbed into my lap,” he said with a soft smirk, a hint of humour in his tone, “I’ll live.”

“But-”

“No,” he said again, more firmly this time, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You’ve already made me lose my goddamn mind tonight. If I let you touch me right now, I’m not gonna stop. And I already said I wouldn’t fuck you tonight…”

You swallowed, your thighs pressing together involuntarily at the sound of his voice when he said that word. He kissed you one more time, a little hungrier now, then sat up with a soft groan as he ran a hand through his messy hair.

“You hungry?” He asked, already standing, adjusting the waistband of his joggers that were doing very little to hide the clear outline of his hard cock- and fuck, it was enough to make your mouth water.

“For food?” You blinked up at him, dazed. 

He laughed quietly under his breath, nodding toward your phone on the bedside table. 

“Order us something. Anything you want.”

He started walking toward the bathroom, and you stared at him. 

“Wait. Where are you going?”

Noah paused in the doorway, glancing back at you over his shoulder, his expression was almost unreadable if the flush in his cheeks didn’t give him away.

“Gonna take a quick shower… if that’s okay?” He said casually.

“A shower.” You narrowed your eyes. 

“Yeah.” His jaw clenched slightly. “Alone.”

“Right…” You sat up a little straighter, trying to fight back the little smirk that tugged at your lips. 

He rolled his eyes, laughing under his breath. 

“Order the food,” he said, and then disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

You stared at the closed door for a long moment… and then you heard the water turn on.

You shook your head, flopping back onto the bed, your heart still pounding at the thought of how Noah had just gone into your bathroom to jerk off with you still lying half naked on the bed.

…

After dinner and a movie, and almost falling asleep on Noah’s shoulder, you both decided maybe it was time to get ready for bed. He followed you into the bathroom, you handed him a brand new toothbrush, still in the packaging, and tried to act like it was no big deal. 

“Here,” you said casually, “I keep spares.”

Noah raised a brow as he took it from you, smirking. 

“A toothbrush at your place already?” he teased with that lazy grin that made your heart skip a beat, “Guess that really makes this official, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool, even if your stomach was full of butterflies. 

“Shut up, James has one here too.” You nodded to the green toothbrush by your sink. 

“Right.” He said, laughing as you passed him the toothpaste. 

As Noah brushed his teeth, you slipped away into your bedroom to find something to wear to bed… you reached for one of your usual oversized shirts, but instead your eye caught something else. A two piece pyjama set you’d bought months ago because it was on sale, you had no intention of ever wearing it, it just looked nice. It had some little bows, a bit of lace, it was sexy without being too much. 

So, once Noah was done in the bathroom, you stepped in, shutting the door behind you. But the second it clicked shut, your nerves kicked in.

Okay, maybe this was a little risky… but he had literally just had his fingers in you.

So you got changed and got ready for bed. You looked at yourself in the mirror, fingers smoothing over the lace as you took a steadying breath. It was the first time you’ve ever had a sleepover with him. This wasn’t just a hookup, he made that incredibly clear last time he was here, when he basically told you he wanted to take things slow. 

You didn’t want to overthink it. But… you kind of wanted to impress him. Just a little.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, Noah had already gotten into bed. He was on his phone, sheets just so his tattooed chest was on full display, hair messy from running his hands through it, and a sleepy smile tugging at his lips as he turned his head to look at you.

The second his eyes landed on you, he blinked slowly, like it took a second to process what you were wearing.

“…Damn.”

Your face warmed as you shut off the light and padded across the room, tugging at the hem of your top a little self consciously. 

“I thought I’d wear something nice tonight.” You said, grinning despite yourself, “It’s a little cuter than an old stained shirt.”

Noah’s gaze softened immediately, that playfulness  was still there, but now he looked at you with something warmer behind his eyes. 

“You could wear a trash bag,” he said, his voice quiet but genuine, “And you’d still be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes, biting back your flustered smile. 

“I’m serious,” he said, reaching for your hand as you slid under the covers beside him, “But also, I appreciate the fancy.”

You nestled into his side, and Noah immediately pulled you close, tucking your head beneath his chin as your arm draped across his stomach. His hand rested on your waist again, fingers brushing gently against your skin in a way that made you shiver.

He let out a small sigh, like his whole body relaxed the second you were curled into him.

“You comfy?” he asked, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

“Mhm,” you nodded against his chest, voice muffled by the fabric of the sheet between you. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” he whispered, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Think this might be my new favourite place, good luck getting me to leave.”

You chuckled, and let your eyes shut, hoping sleep would find you easy tonight. Your legs were tangled beneath the blankets, his fingers tracing lazy shapes into your back, you felt at peace.

But you still couldn’t sleep. 

You didn’t know how long you’d been lying there with Noah’s arms around you. Time didn’t feel real when you were with him, everything just slowed. His breathing had evened out, but you could tell he wasn’t fully asleep either. 

You shifted a little against him, just enough to peer up from where your head rested on his chest.

“Noah?” You whispered into the dark.

His fingers brushed lazily along your back, pausing slightly before continuing again. 

“Yeah?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Why not?” He chuckled softly. You hesitated, then gave a sheepish shrug, not that he could see it. 

“I think I’m just… really happy.”

Noah stilled for a moment beneath you, then exhaled slowly through his nose. 

“That’s a good reason, at least.” Because, for Noah, he couldn’t sleep for other reasons. 

You propped yourself up slightly on your elbow.

“It’s just weird,” you said, half to yourself, “How much I like you… but how little I really know about you.”

That made him freeze. You could feel it in the way his body went just a little tense under your palm. You didn’t pay it any thought though, your voice just stayed soft and thoughtful as you continued. 

“I mean, I don’t even know your last name,” you teased gently, “Or where you’re from. Or your favourite colour. You’re like a mystery box boyfriend- not that you’re my boyfriend… I just mean... I want to know everything about you…”

Noah went a little too quiet… You frowned a little, looking up at him again, though you couldn’t see him too well in the dark. His jaw was tight, his eyes fixed on the ceiling like he was thinking too hard.

“…It’s okay,” you said softly. “I didn’t mean to freak you out or anything, I just-”

“No, no,” he said quickly, his arm tightening around you a little. “It’s not that. It’s just…”

He sighed, turning his head slightly to look at you.

“If I tell you my last name,” he murmured, eyes unreadable in the low light, “You might google me.”

You blinked. “So?”

He looked at you for a moment longer, like he was weighing something in his head, because he was. If he told you, it could go two ways- you search his name and find everything out, it’ll save him from breaking it to you, but he’d rather be the one to tell you, so he can explain everything… or it’ll make no difference, maybe you won't search him up. 

“Davis.”

“What about him?” 

“No,” he laughed under his breath, running his fingers through your hair. “That’s my last name. Davis. Noah Davis.”

Your mouth dropped open a little. 

“Wait… really?” You asked, and he nodded, “I thought Davis was your friend’s name.”

“It is, but it’s also my last name.” He explained, “He’s Davis Rider, I’m Noah Davis…” Because soon enough you'd know Noah Sebastian

You fell quiet for a second, processing that.

“I’m sorry,” he added gently, “I don’t mean to keep things from you. I just… maybe I like being your mystery box boyfriend.”

You couldn’t help the little laugh that slipped out. 

“You just admitted you’re my boyfriend.”

“I said mystery box boyfriend,” he smirked, reaching to tug you back down onto his chest. “Very different.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling into the curve of his neck. 

“Okay, Noah Davis... now that I have your full name, I guess I get to know more. Favourite colour?”

“Red.” He said, without hesitation this time.

“Huh. I figured you’d be a black or blue guy.”

“Reds always been the one I’m drawn to,” Noah said with a shake of his head, “And black too, I guess.”

You smiled sleepily.

“Okay. And… where are you from?”

“Virginia… Lived there ‘til I was a teenager, then came here for work.”

You hummed softly, fingers brushing over his arm.

“Thanks for telling me,” you whispered. “I know that stuff probably doesn’t seem like a big deal, but… it is. To me.”

Noah didn’t answer at first. But then he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Yeah. It’s a big deal to me too.”

You nestled even closer, your arm wrapping around his waist, face tucked against the smooth skin of his shoulder. Noah’s hand continued its lazy trail across your back, dipping beneath the fabric of your top now and then, just enough to keep goosebumps rising on your skin. There was nothing sexual about it. Just intimacy, closeness and trust. 

You let out a little sigh as you relaxed even deeper, your voice barely a murmur against his neck.

“I like this.”

“Me too.” He said, his lips brushing your hair. 

“Noah?”

“Yeah?”

“If I did google you… what would I find?”

He paused… and you felt it. He didn’t pull away or shift uncomfortabley, he just held you a little closer, his fingertips softly dancing over your arm.

“Probably a lot of embarrassing shit,” he confessed, and although he wasn’t fully telling the truth, it also wasn’t a lie, “Old pictures, old thirsty tweets.”

“Thirsty tweets?” You couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped.

“Yeah, I don’t actually have social media anymore, but I bet they’re still out there somewhere.”

You stifled your laughter against his chest, and he tilted his head to look down at you, the fondest smile on his face.

“You know,” you whispered, “If this is what a sleepover with you is like, I might never let you go home.”

He smirked, but there was something gentle in his eyes, like hope.

“Guess I should keep the toothbrush here, then.”

“I did pick the pink one just for you.” You grinned. 

“That makes it official, huh?”

“Oh yeah, totally official.” You giggled sleepily.

He kissed your forehead again, and you let out a content sigh, nuzzling in close.

After a few moments, you felt him shift slightly, and you looked up to see his lashes fluttering closed, his breathing slowing. He looked peaceful like this.

You stared at him for a little while, your heart swelling with something you were a little afraid of... Love?

You weren’t sure how you got so lucky, how you got here. But you knew you didn’t want to leave. You reached up and gently brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, and whispered.

“Goodnight, Noah Davis.”

------------------------------

it seems it's not a runningincircl3s fic without a party at some point!

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[anonymousfangir1]

I'm just a line without a- | C. K

Bimbo Fem! Reader x Clark Kent angst Summary = Clark's a mamas boy, and you're a girl his mama wouldn't approve of. Tags/TW = Angst, fem! reader, Toxic situations, Clarks kinda a dick, mention of SH, knifes, abuse (?), reader might be a little unstable W.c = 3.6k Song= "Line Without A Hook" Ricky Montgomery

He knew you were the type of gal his mother wouldn't approve of. Now, his mama's a good lady, "Remember Clark, never judge a book by it's cover" She'd drilled that line into his head so many time's he can only hear her voice when he thinks of it. So when he met you, he took her words to heart. A woman's free to wear the all the mini skirts and crop tops she wants, it ain't his place to judge.

Unfortunately you were just as sinful as you looked.

I don't really give a damn about the way you touch me

When we're alone

You can hold My hand if no one's home

"Clarkieeee, babyyyy." You were whining in his ear. The current situation? You'd just pulled him into the (tiny) supply closet of Daily Planet. He's hunched ridiculously right now and he's just praying the both of you aren't caught. At least not before his erections gone. You're kissing his neck and it's driving him crazy, he knows you applied that bright red lipstick before you shoved him in here. You're doing this on purpose.

"H-Hun. Please, w-we can do this later, at my place." He's begging. He's basically hanging onto a thread. The only thing keeping him from taking you now is the fact 1) tiny space (he's sure you're flexible enough to make it work though) and 2) His coworkers, and ex- Lois, are right outside the door.

"If you keep quiet no one will know~" You hum in his ear. Your breath still smells like mint from your toothpaste. Your breast is squished him against and he can feel that you didn't wear a bra today.

"If people see us-"

"Are you so worried about being seen with me?" He's taken back, Clark's not used to you being so forward with him. Your words felt harsh, and sounded defeated. You knew what the answer was, and you'd know for a while but you just wanted believe it wasn't true.

"What? n-No doll. That's not-" He's lying. You're a beautiful woman, and god did he like you. The way you moan his name, and he found it so sweet how you'd leave little notes in his lunchbox, always signed with your lips in whatever lipstick you were wearing that day. But you were his secret and he wanted to keep it that way. His mama had already made it clear she wasn't found of the woman. "Why'd you end things with Lois? She's a sensible young woman Clark."

"Omg, You were like this with your Mom. A-And you haven't said anything to Jimmy, your best friend. " Your voice is raising.

"Wh-What?"

"Clark! He still hits on me. NO ONE knows about us. More people know about your secret identity than about us. Is it me?"

"Doll-"

"I'll text you later." You cut him off, even in the terrible lighting, he could clearly see the disappointment on your face.

You weren't going to cry right now, at least not in front of him. With that you leave, leaving Clark alone in some dingy closet.

Your text didn't come for another four days.

Do you like it when I'm away?

If I went and hurt my body, baby

Would you still love me the same

How did you find out he was superman? Your memory is a little hazy about the whole thing. You'd been out with your girls, and you're not really sure how many shot's you'd had. 5? 9? Well it didn't matter. He could hear your voice outside your apartment door, saying goodbye to all your friends followed by the sound of your key turning the knob.

"Heyyyyyy Kittyyy Kittyyyyy." You're stumbling into your apartment, your bag falls onto the floor and you're kicking off your heels.

"Kitttyyyy where are you? Ki- EEEEEK!" You're stumbling back and before you hit the floor, he's there. Superman. He's bruised, and his suits completely torn, and maybe you can't help but feel just a little aroused. I mean, you came home and now you're being held by a bloody (and super attractive) man?

"Hun, you gotta be careful." You might be a little drunk, but the way he speaks gets your gears turning, he just sound's so much like your coworker (and situationship? Boyfriend? Unsure right now) Clark.

"C-Clark?" You squint your eyes, staring at the face of the man holding you. He smiles,

"Yes doll."

"Omgomgomg no way!!" It's like you've been flooded with energy, excitedly jumping up and from his arms. It's Superman! If you were a 13 year old boy your room would be covered with posters and actions figures of the man. He's going to have to bake some muffins for your neighbors downstairs as an apology.

"Doll, Please, calm down." He tries to grab your hands to calm you down but you're pulling, causing him to wince.

"Omg wait. You're bleeding!" Your eyes finally lock onto the massive bruise on his ribs and realize, wait that's a lot of blood, you go into a state of panic.

"I-It's okay. I'll be fine in the morning. I just needed to see you." He pulls you in, hand against the back of your head, just holding you. Your arms wrap around him and you just feel so good.

"Bed?" You mumble in his chest.

"Let's go darling." He picks you up, and you can't help but giggle. You're being held by the Superman. He helps remove the black body suit you were wearing, since you started crying, "It's tooooo tight. Clarkkkkkkk." and stomping your feet. "Okay Okay. Hold on."

When you're finally in your bed, he pulls the cover up and kisses your cheek. "Clark?" "Hm?"

"I love you." Clark smiles, more like forces one. "I know Doll."

-

"Hey doll?"

"Mhm?"

"Do you have a cat?"

"What? Of course not silly. You've been over here before LOL!" Clark grins before setting down your cup of coffee.

"Of course. Silly me."

I can feel all my bones coming back

And I'm craving motion

Mama never really learned how to live by herself

It's a curse and it's growing

You've met his mama once. His birthday was just around the corner and being the darling woman she is, thought she'd pay metropolis a visit. The hall of Daily Planet was busy, staff were running around, papers were flying and she couldn't see her son. Everyone had some major deadline that week so the place felt very overwhelming.

"Mrs. Kent?" Martha's eyes lit up when she spotted Lois.

"Lois! Dear!" Her arms were outstretched and Lois happily embraced the sweet woman.

"It's been so long! I hope everything's been great?" The pair hadn't seen each other in months, and it was the first time they were finally seeing each other since Clark ended things with Lois. "Oh look at you darling, you're still so beautiful."

"Thank you Mrs.Kent I-" "Darling, I've told you, you can just call me Martha." "Y-yes of course, Martha. I've been great. You're looking good yourself."

"Mama?"

"Clark!" Mama Kent rushed to hug her son, the height difference standing out when he bent to return her hug.

"Mama, what are you doing here?" His ear tips flushed red. More, and more of his coworkers were starting to stop and stare. All of them interested in the famous Mama Kent.

"Can't a woman see her favorite son for his birthday?" She jokingly slaps his chest.

"Clarkkkkk!!" Of course you'd have to show right now. You're rushing into the lobby, the sound of your heels hitting the tiles would've told everyone it was you, even if you hadn't yelled. You're wearing your favorite outfit, a mini denim skirt with what was originally a lingerie baby doll dress (that Clark bought you) as a top. You're rushing to him frantically, waving your hands desperately.

"Clarkkk!! You won't believe the morning I've had!! My uber totally cancelled on me and no one else would pick me up. I had to ride the metro!! And there was this weird guy who-"

"Clark, who's this?" Clark grimaced. He was trying to come up with a plan on how to introduce the two of y'all (if he ever planned to) and this is exactly how he wouldn't go about it.

"Oh hiii!! I'm Y/n, Clark's-"

"Coworker!" He's stepped in front you, blocking you from his mamas view.

"Come on Mama, why don't we grab lunch or something?" He's taking her arm and is gently guiding her away. "Mhm. Lunch sounds great sweetie."You're left just standing there.

"Later??"

You're a pond and I'm an ocean

Oh, all my emotions

Feel like explosions when you are around

And I've found a way to kill the sound, oh

Oh, baby, I am a wreck when I'm without you

4 days. He didn't see or hear from you for 4 days. You haven't even texted to ask what your coffee order is. The night you first stormed off, he waited. You've been mad at him before but by the next morning you're all over him again. Yet the next day, he didn't see you. That's fine. He's sure you'll text him by the morning. Clarrrkkkk, would you pick me up strawberries? Tyyyy <3333

Yet the next he still had no text from you.

Day 2.

"Perry?" "Hm?" Perry's face is shoved in a newspaper, reading it so intensely like Daily Planet wasn't the one who published it.

"Have you heard from Y/n?" Perry's eyebrow lifts.

"Oh? She didn't tell you? Huh. Well I can't go around talking about employees."

He was pacing back and forth his apartment floor, basically sending texts each minute.

Doll? Can we please talk. sent 8:40pm

I know you're mad but please answer me sent 8:41pm

Are you okay??? sent 8:42pm

No one's seen or heard from you. Please. I need to know you're okay sent 8:43pm

Please sent 8:44pm

Day 3.

"Superman, Keep your head in the game!!" He's knocked from his thoughts when a fist makes contact with his cheek and sends him flying towards a building. He's thankfully able to catch himself before slamming into building. Crap, he's right, Superman needs to be thinking about winning this, even more so with as little destruction possible.

He cracks his neck before charging after the villain of the weak. The fights over relatively quick, could have been quicker if he wasn't distracted thinking of you.

That night he decides to check on you, it's around 12am and he flys up to the window in your bedroom. Maybe a little creepy, but he's just doing a welfare check, its fine. But no one's there. Your blankets are on the floor and clothes are tossed everywhere. Where you robbed?? Kidnapped??

He he's the jangles of a key chain and the sound of your front door opening.

"Kittyyyyyy?" It's your voice and you're clearly intoxicated.

"Come to mamaaa kittyyyy." You're stumbling towards your room and Clark makes sure he isn't visible. He should leave, he knows you're fine. But there's an urge to see you. And so he waits.

Your bedroom door opens and you stumbled in. He wants to help you but he doesn't know how you'll react.

"Mamassss home." You sigh and toss your key chain on the floor and grab your blankets.

"Mamas tired." You wrap yourself in your blankets before throwing yourself on your bed, shoes still on.

Day 4.

Clark imagines he'd rather be stuck in a cage with kryptonite than be forced to wait anymore. And finally, he gets his wish.

He hears your heels before you're in the building. His ears perk up immediately and he's waiting. And finally he sees you. You look a little different, like you've tanned. Your clothes are more revealing than normal (which is saying a lot). You're smiling, yet he notices it doesn't meet your eyes. You say hello to everyone who welcomes you back. Then you see him. He's waiting, patiently watching you.

"Hey doll."

"Morning Clark." And that's all. He watches you pass him to go sit at your desk. "Good morning Jimmy <3"

"Yikes dude. What did you do?" Jimmy's chair rolls over to Clark and he's left speechless.

Please. Can we talk? Read 9:13am

Doll: sure. My place? Sent 2:30pm

I need you here to stay

I broke all my bones that day I found you

Crying at the lake

"That's bullshit Clark!"

"Can you please just listen to me?"

"Listen to this-" you chuck the closest thing you can find at him, which happens to be your shoe. He has no problem avoiding it though and it just collides with your wall, the heel breaking the plaster. There goes your security deposit.

"I-I just think you should… take a minute? Calm down?" The moment he says Calm down, he knows he's just doused the fire with gasoline.

"Calm down?"

You'd made a promise to yourself years ago, when you were in middle school. You couldn't, you wouldn't, cry in front of anyone. You were tired of being picked on, made to feel bad about yourself. So you decided, no one would get the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

And of course, Clark Fucking Kent, would be the one who makes you finally break that promise.

The tears are there before you can stop them. And your chucking your other shoe at him, this time he lets it hit him in the shoulder. This just pisses you off more.

"Why?? Fuck Clark. I-I mean. Y-You knew me. If you were just going to be ashamed why did you even start this?? Was it the sex? If you just wanted sex, you could have told me!" You're screaming and he's trying to get closer but any time he steps you're finding anything you can to throw. "Y-You strung me along! I can do just sex. B-But you made me like you! I thought I was something to you!"

"D-Doll you are."

"Stop with the fucking nickname! I'm not your doll. I'm not your toy!"

Was it something I said to make you feel like you're a burden

Oh, and if I could take it all back

I swear that I would pull you from the tide

All the tears you'd been saving are rushing like waterfalls down your face.

"Y/n…" he's taking his time with his words. His hands are in front of him, like the way you would when you're trying to coax down an aggressive animal. Any sudden movements and you could trigger them. He takes a slow step towards you.

"You're something to me… I like you. I really do. It's just my mama-" There's a muscle twitch in your face. Small, but he's so observant when it comes to you, he couldn't miss it.

"You.. you still won't say it." You don't yell this time. You're quiet. Thinking.

"Say what?" You don't answer. You stand there, biting your lip. Your mascara is running down your face, and you can see drips of it have stained your shirt. Shit, you'll just have to buy another one later.

Then you're dashing. You're in the kitchen drawers, frantically searching. He doesn't know what you're doing. He could easily rush over there and grab you but he's worried you'll hurt yourself. Or worse, he'll hurt you. He's not exactly sound of mind right now either and he doesn't want to risk it.

"Get out." You're holding knife, both hands on the handle, pointing it at him.

"Come on.. you know that wouldn't hurt me.

"Maybe."

"Please… put it down." Your throwing it at him and you miss completely.

"Fuck." You pull another knife from the drawer. Why do you have so many knife's, you don't even cook. Your hands are trembling and he's getting so scared. You're going to hurt yourself and what scares him the most is that it might not be on accident. He can't do this anymore, and in a split second he's over there, ripping the knife from your hand and tossing it far enough so you can't reach it.

"Let go of me! I hate you!" You're biting, scratching, doing anything that you possibly can to get him to let go.

"Shhhh…" he's whispering in your ear, holding you as tight as possible without causing any pain. He's Superman. Yet he's currently the biggest villain for one of the most important people in his life. The reason for all her pain, the tears. He's anything but super. All he can do is hold you like that until you finally stop, you've worn yourself out and fallen asleep in his arms. As much as you "hate" him right now, his strong arms just feel so comfortable.

Please.

Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa,

I said no, I said no

Listen close, it's a no,

The wind is a-pounding on my back

And I found hope in a heart attack

Oh, at last, it is past

Now I've got it, and you can't have it

Baby, I am a wreck when I'm without you

I need you here to stay

I broke all my bones that day I found you

Crying at the lake

Was it something I said to make you feel like you're a burden

Oh, and if I could take it all back

I swear that I would pull you from the tide

Darling, when I'm fast asleep

I've seen this person watching me

Saying, "Is it worth it? Is it worth it? Tell, is it worth it?"

Clark doesn't think he's slept a few night since the events in your apartment. He's tried sending texts and at first you were reading them. That's progress. But then they stop sending, he doesn't know why. He's got good cell signal and there hasn't been any problems before so why is there a problem now? He has to get Jimmy to look at his phone. When he does, Jimmy shifts uncomfortably.

"Sorry Clark… I think she's blocked you?"What? He crushes his phone in his hand without really thinking. He's so mad, and he's not even mad at you. It's his damn fault. Jimmy glances between the crushed phone in Clarks hand and his friend. He'll just have to pretend that didn't happen…

Oh

Because there is something, and there is nothing

There is nothing in between

And in my eyes, there is a tiny dancer

watching over me, he's singing

"She's a, she's a lady, and I am just boy"

He's singing, "She's a, she's a lady, and I am just a line without a-"

When he sees you in the office, it's like nothings wrong. You're laughing, joking with everyone but him. Since being away from you, he's notice there's more men trailing behind you. They look like love sick puppies. You occasionally send a wink their way, if you're having a really good day they get a kiss on the cheek for helping you. Clark really doesn't know what to do. It's been a month and you still won't even let him get close. When he comes up to you at the office you tell him your busy and can't talk, before walking away.

Oh baby, I am a wreck when I'm without you

I need you here to stay

He's shown up to your apartment but you're not there anymore. Your stuff's been cleared out and the hole that was left from your shoe has been patched up. After digging around he found out that your argument was the last straw for the landlord and you were kicked out. He's not even sure how many apartments he's peaked in, trying to find you. Rumors of a flying peeping tom have started to travel around Metropolis. He's losing it. Superman's also been facing the consequences of this, articles surfacing, "Superman no longer smiles" "What's go Superman so upset?" And it's you. It's always you. He has to do something.

Broke all my bones that day I found you

Crying at the lake

Oh, was it something I said to make you feel like you're a burden?

Oh, and if I could take it all back

I swear that I would pull you from the tide

It's his turn to pull you into the supply closet. He covers your mouth with his hand so you can't scream. Your body is thrashing around, and the feeling of your saliva and teeth against his palm tickles.

"Please. Please just listen to me. If you promise to stop freaking out I'll let you down, okay?" You freeze like you're thinking about it. But you reluctantly mumble a "okay" and he's pulling his hand awake.

"I-I messed up. And I," He takes a deep breath and runs his fingers through his curly hair before he continues, "I love you. I should've said it a month ago. I was stupid. An-And I shouldn't care so much about what my mom thinks. You're worth breaking any rule for. I need you. Please, please I-I can't keep going like this." Clark doesn't care if he sounds pathetic, or if you think he's desperate. These are his truths. Every word coming from his mouth couldn't be more truer. He's a man at the end of his rope and you're the hand he's reaching for.

"Clark I-"

a/n- I wasn't sure how I wanted it to end or what readers would prefer so I'm leaving it up to you. Do you accept his apology and take him back? Or maybe it's better for y'all to go split ways.