#Traffic Lights Programming
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gantengpermanen ¡ 1 year ago
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Arduino UNO CD74HC4067 Demultiplexer 4 Way 4 Phases Traffic Lights Programming Part 1
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scrambledlikeeggs ¡ 1 year ago
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the trees are barking, send help.
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cruisectrlll ¡ 1 year ago
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A lot of cruise ctrl has been on hold for me because I keep running away from the technical and world building aspects but I bit the bullet and have been figuring a lot of shit out so there's that. Currently suffering my way through deciding how hoverbikes will work in a way that's realistic enough for my standards but I'm locked tf in
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kazzzmataz ¡ 9 months ago
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omfg there has GOT to be a better way than temporary traffic lights on a timer
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danysdaughter ¡ 3 days ago
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Red Is The Color Of Want
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pairing | civil!war!bucky x widow!reader & winter!soldier x widow!reader
word count | 4.8k words
summary | in a crumbling safehouse far from the fights you both escaped, you—a former black widow—unravel the man beneath the metal as the winter soldier comes undone in your arms. but when a page of trigger words drags bucky back into the shadows of who he used to be, the only thing more dangerous than his programming… is how much he needs you.
tags | (18+) MDNI, unprotected sex, p in v, oral (f!receiving), fingering, rough sex, desperate sex, emotional hurt/comfort, dubious consent (due to Winter Soldier programming), ptsd and trauma responses, emotional angst, mutual longing, slow burn that explodes, comfort after breakdown
a/n | YALLL, this is not the a sequel to Сетка, this is a complete different widow!reader, Сетка Pt 2 is still on its way, anyway this is based on this request
taglist | ALSOOO I've created a tag list for this, so if you wanna be tagged whenever I release a new bucky fic, just fill your username to this taglist
likes comments and reblogs are much appreciated ✨✨
ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ
divider by @cafekitsune
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Romania, Bucharest — 2016
The cafĂŠ was falling apart in the charming way only Eastern European buildings could get away with. A crooked sign hung above the door like it was waiting to fall. Inside, it smelled like cheap coffee and something burnt a few days ago.
You were sitting by the window, hunched over a chipped porcelain cup, one foot tucked under you. The table rocked slightly every time you leaned on it. You’d already emptied two packets of sugar into the bitter brew, and now you were on your fourth.
Across from you, he watched with that quiet intensity of his—chin in hand, blue eyes barely blinking, like every movement you made held the key to unlocking some part of him. He said nothing until the fifth sugar packet disappeared into your cup.
“Going for diabetes or just hoping to dissolve the pain?”
You didn't even look up as you stirred. “Why stop at diabetes? If I keep going, maybe I’ll reach enlightenment.”
His lip twitched. Not quite a smile, but close. The most you ever got from him on a good day.
“Doesn’t matter how much you sweeten it,” he said finally, nodding toward your cup. “Still tastes like shit.”
You leaned back, cradling the mug in both hands like it was precious. “Good. So it matches you.”
He blinked, and you almost regretted the jab—until you saw the way the corner of his mouth lifted, barely, like a secret between you.
“Dark and bitter,” he murmured. “Just like me.”
You took a sip. It was terrible. Burnt and sour with an aftertaste like regret. You looked him straight in the eyes.
“Speak for yourself. I’m fucking delightful.”
You were slouched back now, one leg kicked over the other, sipping your sugar-soaked coffee like it was actually palatable. Outside, the gray streets of Bucharest moved on—slow, indifferent, same as always.
Bucky’s eyes drifted down from your face to the red leather jacket slung over your shoulders. It was too bright, too clean for a place like this. Too loud for someone like you.
“That’s a lot of jacket for someone trying to stay low,” he muttered, eyeing it like it offended him.
You scoffed, as you smoothed your hand over the sleeve. “I love this jacket. You have no taste.”
He huffed a breath. “I’ve got taste. That just ain’t it.”
You gasped, setting your cup down with a clink. “Excuse me. This jacket is iconic.”
His brow lifted. “It’s loud. You look like a traffic light.”
“I look fabulous,” you corrected, smoothing a hand down the sleeve. “And this is the first thing I ever bought for myself, okay?”
He blinked at that. “That?”
“Да,” you said, chin up. “You don’t like it?” [Yes]
“I didn’t say that,” he mumbled, but the twitch in his lips gave him away.
You narrowed your eyes. “You did not not say it.”
Bucky leaned back in his chair, the old wood creaking beneath him. “You still look ridiculous.”
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the grin tugging at your mouth. “That is rich, coming from man who wears the same three Henleys on rotation.”
He huffed a soft laugh. “They’re comfortable.”
“And this is freedom,” you said simply. “The point is… I’ve never had control over my own life before. I want to do things now. Stupid things. Selfish things. Bright red jacket things. And I think you should want that too.”
That shut him up for a beat.
You didn’t push it. Just looked down at your drink, tracing the rim of the cup with your finger. When you glanced up again, his expression had softened—those sad eyes of his lit with something quieter. Warmer.
“I think your jacket’s cool,” he said, voice low.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
You grinned again, slower this time. “I get you matching one.”
His face immediately scrunched. “I’m good, thanks.”
You leaned back smugly. “I get you one anyway.”
He shook his head, but there was no bite to it. Just the faintest quirk of a smile he didn’t bother hiding this time.
────────────────────────
His Apartment
The apartment was barely a place. The walls were cracked in some places and water-stained in others. The furniture was sparse—just a torn couch, a table that wobbled if you leaned on it wrong, and a mattress on the floor in the next room. But it was safe. Or safe enough.
The stereo in the corner played something modern and vaguely electronic. It fuzzed in and out, like even it didn’t want to be here. You lay sprawled on the couch, one arm thrown over your eyes, foot tapping out of rhythm to the beat.
Bucky sat nearby in a folding chair, arms resting on his knees, watching you like he didn’t quite understand how someone like you ended up in his space.
How you, with your loud voice, bright jacket, and endless sarcasm, had carved yourself into the quiet corners of his life.
He hadn’t gotten used to the music you liked—shrill, repetitive, too fast. He’d told you as much. “It’s noise,” he’d said.
“I am noise,” you’d replied with a grin. “Get used to it.”
And somehow, he had.
Around you, the silence didn’t ache the way it used to. You filled it, even when you weren’t speaking. It was your presence—commanding and unbothered, like you were meant to be anywhere you sat.
He didn’t know how it happened. One day he’d just found you, or maybe you'd found him. In an alley in Warsaw, bleeding from a gunshot wound, muttering in Russian as you crouched beside him and said, “I’m not saving you because I care, I’m saving you because you owe me now.”
You’d been by his side ever since.
He reached into the drawer of the flimsy side table, pulled out the small, black notebook, and held it out to you wordlessly.
You shifted, eyeing it with some suspicion before sitting up just enough to take it from him.
“What’s this?” you asked, flipping it open.
“Things I remember,” he said, voice rough. “Bits. Fragments. I write them down before I forget again.”
You flipped through it slowly, eyes scanning a list of names, dates, odd phrases.
“‘Red sock in a white wash��? This a code?”
“Laundry accident. Brooklyn, 1936.”
You snorted, and he swore you smiled just a little softer than usual.
“‘Train smell. Winter. Steve’s mittens.’ That one sounds like the setup to a bad poem.”
“Smelled like coal and metal. He used to take his gloves off to share with me.” His voice drifted a bit, like the memory was speaking through him more than he was choosing to share.
You leaned your head back against the couch again, notebook open on your stomach. “You are sentimental old man,” you muttered.
He looked at you like you were sunlight through a window—something warm he never quite thought he deserved.
“And you're loud,” he said quietly. “Even when you’re not talking. I can’t hear the silence when you’re around.”
You cracked one eye open and smirked. “Good. It’s an annoying silence. Brooding and sad. Very you.”
He huffed a laugh, eyes still on you.
You flipped to another page, still lounging back on his couch, one leg dangling off the side. The paper was creased and worn, filled with a list in neat Cyrillic script. Your eyes narrowed.
“What’s this?” you asked, tapping the page lightly with your finger.
Bucky glanced over absently from the table where he’d been cleaning a disassembled pistol. “What?”
You didn’t wait. The words slid easily off your tongue, your Russian fluent and unthinking.
“Желание, Ржавый, Семнадцать, Рассвет—”
[Desire, Rusty, Seventeen, Dawn]
His head snapped up, the rag in his hand falling to the floor with a soft thud.
“Stop.”
You didn’t hear him—too caught up in your mockery, still thinking this was another relic from his past you could tease him about. Your voice took on a theatrical lilt as you continued.
“Печь, Девять, Добросердечный, Возвращение, Один—”
[Oven, Nine, Benign, Homecoming, One]
“Stop.”
But you were already at the last word.
“Товарный вагон.” [Freight Car.]
The silence after was suffocating.
You looked up, still grinning—ready to make another snarky remark.
But he was staring at you.
Not in that usual, quietly fascinated way. Not the soft, storm-swept gaze that always felt like it saw more than you were willing to show.
No, this stare was hollow. Still. Too still.
The warmth was gone.
“Bucky?”
He didn’t blink. Didn’t speak. Just stood there, posture rigid, jaw locked, eyes fixed on you like he was trying to calculate something. Or waiting for something.
Your pulse quickened.
You sat up fully, the notebook slipping from your hands and falling to the floor with a soft flutter.
“Bucky, what—” Your voice faltered.
You stood slowly, movements careful, like approaching a wild animal. His breathing was steady, mechanical. His hands were relaxed at his sides, but there was something wrong in the way they hung—too precise. Like they belonged to someone else.
You took a hesitant step toward him.
“What’s wrong with you?” you asked quietly, tilting your head.
He didn’t respond. Didn’t even twitch.
His silence pressed in on you, heavier than the broken ceiling above, thicker than the smoke that sometimes drifted through the window from the street.
Then it hit you.
The page.
The words.
Your stomach dropped.
“Bucky…” You whispered his name like a lifeline, like saying it softer might bring him back.
Still nothing.
Just those empty, soldat's eyes staring through you.
You swallowed hard. “Come on. Say something.”
But he didn’t.
Your mouth became dry.
You took a step back, eyes locked on his. They didn’t follow your movement—not in the human way, not in his way. They tracked you like a target. The realization settled cold in your gut.
You licked your lips, heart hammering in your chest.
“Солдат…” you said softly, reluctantly. A test. A plea. [Soldat]
His posture shifted instantly, his chin lifting just slightly, shoulders drawn tight.
“Готов подчиняться,” he replied without hesitation, voice flat. Hollow. Obedient.
[Ready to comply.]
The breath left your lungs.
Shit.
No no no.
This couldn’t be happening.
You felt your stomach twist violently, and the words slipped out before you could stop them.
“Блядь…” you muttered, horrified, under your breath. “Чёрт, трахни меня—” [Oh, Fuck me]
“Понял.” [Understood.]
Your eyes snapped up, wide, just as he moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
Before you could take another breath, his hand was at the back of your neck, the other on your waist, and then his mouth was on yours—rough, forceful, devouring. There was no hesitation, no question. Just action.
His lips crushed into yours like a command being executed.
And the worst part? Your body didn’t pull away.
It froze.
Caught in shock, in the wrongness, in the heat of it.
You barely registered the wall against your back before you felt his hands—strong, unrelenting—gripping your thighs. The torn leather of the couch creaked beneath you as he lifted you like you weighed nothing, pressing your body flush against his without pause, without question.
Your breath hitched.
“Bucky—no—” you gasped, palms against his chest. It was solid, unmoving. “Wait—this isn’t—”
But he wasn’t listening.
His lips moved from yours to your jaw, to your throat. Rough, possessive. He kissed like he was claiming you, like he’d waited too long and now he was making up for lost time. His mouth found the soft skin beneath your ear, sucked hard enough to bruise.
A broken sound slipped from your lips before you could stop it.
You hated that part of yourself—the one that’d thought about this. That had looked at him too long, too often, wondered what his hands would feel like wrapped around your hips. What his mouth would taste like.
But this wasn’t him.
Not really.
“Soldat,” you tried again, voice cracking, fingers curling weakly into the fabric of his shirt. “Stop—”
But even as you spoke, his grip didn’t falter. His hands roamed with precision, with purpose. Like he knew exactly what you needed before you did.
And somewhere inside those glacier-blue eyes was something burning.
Not cold. Not mechanical.
Hunger.
Longing.
Bucky had wanted this. Wanted you. Maybe not like this. Maybe not so brutally, so suddenly. But it had been there—in the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t watching, in the weight of his silences, in how he never pulled away when your shoulders brushed.
And now all that want had been uncaged.
The Soldat was moving like he’d been given orders.
But the man you knew—he was still in there.
You could feel it in the way his fingers trembled for just a second at your waist.
His breath was harsh against your skin, uneven—like he hadn’t drawn a real one in years until now. Like you were the first breath of air after a long, dark silence.
His hands moved fast. Too fast.
Fabric tore.
The sound of your top splitting down the middle echoed like a gunshot in the small room, the cotton giving way in his fists like it was paper. You gasped, chest exposed to the cool air, to his burning stare.
“Wait—Bucky—” you started, but your voice was swallowed beneath the weight of his body pushing you back onto the couch.
He didn’t say a word. Just hovered over you, braced on his elbows, eyes devouring every inch of bare skin like it was the only thing that existed. His pupils were blown wide, mouth parted like he was starving.
And maybe he was.
Maybe the Soldat was hunger without outlet. Maybe Bucky had been starving too—silently, patiently.
And now?
Now that leash had snapped.
His mouth was on your collarbone, open and hot, teeth dragging roughly. He kissed you like he didn’t care if it left marks—like he wanted it to.
One hand slid beneath your thigh, lifting it over his hip. The movement ground his body closer to yours, and you choked on a breath, caught off guard by how right it felt—how wrong it should’ve felt.
“Soldat—” you tried again, but this time your voice was barely a whisper, barely a protest.
His body was shaking, barely controlled. Like if he let go of even one thread, he’d tear through everything between you. Like he wasn’t following an order now—he was answering a need.
Your need.
His need.
He lowered himself further, breath hot against your breast as he dragged his mouth across your skin, reverent and brutal all at once.
And all you could do was clutch at his shoulders, your mind screaming that this wasn’t him—
But your body? Your body didn’t care.
And so you didn’t resist.
Not really.
Maybe it was the way his hands gripped your hips—tight, trembling like restraint was the only thing keeping him from falling apart. Maybe it was the way his breath caught when your nails dug into his shirt, clutching him like a lifeline even as he pushed you deeper into the cushions.
Maybe it was that part of you that wanted to be taken.
By him. The man. The weapon. Both.
His weight settled over you, all muscle and heat and presence, like he needed to feel every inch of you against him to believe you were real. His hips rutted against yours, rough, desperate, like he was trying to bury himself in your very existence.
“Скажи мне нет,” he rasped against your throat, voice fraying at the edges. [Tell me no]
But you didn’t.
Your legs wrapped around him tighter, drawing him in, anchoring him.
He groaned—a real sound, a human sound—and it rattled through his chest as he ground down harder, clutching at your body like it was the only thing keeping him from shattering.
You let him. You let him take you.
Because you’d seen the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t watching. You’d heard the longing buried beneath his silence. This wasn’t just the programming.
It was him.
It was all of him.
And when his mouth crashed down onto yours again—rougher this time, teeth catching your lip—you moaned into it, fingers twisting in his shirt, holding on as he moved with a desperate rhythm, like he didn’t just want you—
Like he needed you to keep from disappearing.
You barely had time to catch your breath before his hands were on his own shirt, fists bunching in the fabric. One violent pull, and it was gone—ripped at the seams, flung aside without a second thought.
And then it was skin.
Hot, scarred, solid.
His chest pressed against yours, the rough drag of his skin over yours sending a shiver down your spine. You arched into him instinctively, needing the contact just as much as he did.
He growled—low and broken, more animal than man—as his hand found your bra and shredded it in one sharp tug. The snap of elastic was lost in the haze as his mouth dropped immediately to your chest, lips latching around one nipple, tongue circling with fervent, uncoordinated hunger.
“Ебать—” you gasped, head tilting back as your nails raked down his back, leaving angry trails in their wake. [Fuck]
He groaned against your breast, the sound vibrating through you. His hands were everywhere—one gripping your waist like a lifeline, the other palming your other breast, thumb swiping over the peak with desperate precision.
There was no rhythm to him. No practiced seduction. Just need.
Raw and overwhelming and real.
Every kiss, every scrape of teeth, every press of his body screamed a single truth: he didn't want to just fuck you—he wanted to feel you. Carving the memory of you into his skin, into his blood, like he didn’t trust the world not to take you away too.
You clung to him harder.
Not because you were afraid he’d hurt you.
But because, in that moment, you were terrified he’d stop.
You didn’t notice the shift at first—just the sudden absence of weight, the cold hit of air against your skin.
Then your eyes opened.
He was between your legs.
Kneeling, eyes burning, chest heaving. His fingers worked fast at the waistband of your pants, yanking them down along with your underwear in one swift, impatient motion. Your legs twitched involuntarily as the fabric slid past your ankles, discarded without care.
He stared at you like he was starving.
“Бо��е, посмотри на тебя,” he muttered under his breath, reverent and ragged. [God, look at you.]
His hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open, dragging you to the edge of the couch like he owned the space between your legs.
You opened your mouth to say something—his name, a protest, a prayer—but the words died as his head dipped low.
“Моя...моя вдова,” he breathed, just before his mouth touched you. [My widow.]
And then—
Heat. Tongue. Pressure.
You gasped, hand flying to the back of the couch for balance as his mouth found you, tongue moving like he’d been trained for this too—like even in this, he wanted to master it.
He groaned against you, low and helpless, like your taste ruined him.
“Так хорошо...” he mumbled, voice muffled, worshipful. [So good…]
Your fingers buried in his hair instinctively, hips jerking against his mouth.
There was no finesse. No teasing. Just hunger.
And he was drowning in you.
His tongue was relentless—broad strokes, then sharp flicks, lips sealing around you with a precision that shouldn’t have been possible from someone this desperate. But he was intent, focused like a man on a mission, like your body was the only thing grounding him in reality.
Your thighs clenched around his head, back arching off the couch, and still he didn’t stop—if anything, he held you tighter, dragging you impossibly closer to his mouth, like he needed more of you, like you were slipping away and he couldn’t bear it.
You gasped his name—not Soldat, not a command—just Bucky, soft and raw.
And maybe he heard it.
Or maybe he just needed more.
He pulled back just enough to murmur something, the words lost under his breath, hoarse and reverent—“Я хочу внутри, я хочу чувствовать тебя, мне нужно чувствовать тебя...” [I want inside, I want to feel you, I need to feel you…]
Then you felt the cool press of metal.
Your breath caught.
His metal hand, fingers thick and gleaming in the low light, slid slowly between your thighs. He spread you with one, then pushed a finger in—slow at first, but with no hesitation. The contrast was electric: heat and steel, your body slick and pulsing around him.
Then another finger.
You whimpered, nails scraping across his bare shoulders as he curled them just right, just so, his mouth returning to your clit like he couldn’t stand being away from it.
The stretch, the weight of him inside you, was almost too much—but your body sang with it. Welcomed it.
“Ты сделана для меня…” he whispered against you. [You were made for me.]
You couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe.
All you could do was hold on as he devoured you—mouth and metal working in brutal rhythm, dragging you higher, deeper, closer to a place you couldn’t come back from.
Your moan cracked in your throat—raw, strangled—as he thrust his fingers deeper, curling them just right, just perfect, while his mouth locked onto you with maddening precision. The heat in your belly coiled tight, then tighter, your body trembling beneath him, straining toward the edge with every wet, ruthless stroke of his tongue.
And then—
You shattered.
Everything broke.
You cried out, head thrown back against the cushions, legs shaking violently as you came hard against his mouth, his hand, his name barely a whisper in your lips—“Bucky—”
He didn’t stop.
Not until you were gasping, twitching, until your hands gripped his hair and pushed gently, weakly, needing space, needing air.
He pulled back—just barely—and looked up at you.
Hair a mess, face slick with your release, eyes blown wide with hunger.
“Я не могу больше ждать,” he whispered, voice ruined. [I can’t wait anymore.]
Then he was moving.
Fast.
Rising up, his fingers leaving you with a wet sound that made your hips buck involuntarily. He fumbled with his jeans—his hands weren’t shaking, but you were. He shoved them down, not even bothering to take them off completely—just far enough to free himself, and then he was on you again.
Hard thighs between yours.
Heavy, hot, bare against your soaked skin.
You felt the press of him—thick and already pulsing—at your entrance.
He hovered for a breathless second.
“Я должен быть в тебе,” he murmured, forehead pressed to yours. [I need to be inside you.]
And then he pushed in—deep, with a groan so guttural it punched through your chest and made you moan again, your nails clawing into his shoulders, into the scars and the skin that was all his, all real.
He filled you in one slow, brutal thrust.
And he didn’t move.
Not right away.
Just stayed there, buried to the hilt, shaking with the effort to hold back, to not come from the sheer feel of you wrapped around him.
You breathed his name again, softer this time. And he looked down at you like he’d been lost for years and just now found his way home.
His hips snapped forward again, dragging a rough moan from your throat as he filled you to the hilt, then pulled back only to slam into you harder, deeper. Over and over—no rhythm, no finesse—just a brutal grind of body on body, like he needed to feel every inch, every pulse, every contraction of your body around him.
Your thighs locked around his waist instinctively, heels digging into the small of his back, holding him there, in you, as if you could stop the world from spinning with just that grip.
His mouth was at your shoulder, his breath ragged and hot as he snarled half-broken curses against your skin—words you didn’t need to understand to feel. They bled need. They bled ownership.
“Твоя... моя... так туго... так тепло...”
[Yours. Mine. So tight. So warm…]
He rutted into you like an animal, like something had come loose inside him and now there was no going back. The couch creaked beneath you, the frame groaning under the force of his thrusts. The slap of skin echoed off the walls—loud, wet, constant.
You clawed at his back, nails digging in deep, dragging over muscle and scar tissue. He hissed but didn’t stop—only fucked you harder, faster, sweat dripping from his brow, jaw clenched like he was trying not to fall apart right there inside you.
You were moaning—raw, helpless, your head thrown back as he pounded into you, each thrust sending fire up your spine. Your hands gripped him like he’d vanish if you let go.
And beneath all of it—his breath, your cries, the obscene sounds of your bodies crashing together—was that undeniable truth:
You didn’t want him to stop.
His thrusts grew more erratic—less controlled, more desperate.
He was fucking you like a man coming undone, like if he stopped, even for a breath, he’d fall apart completely. Every snap of his hips was rougher than the last, the slap of skin on skin filling the air, raw and unrelenting. Your body rocked beneath him, pinned under the full weight of him, legs wrapped tight around his waist as he drove deeper, harder.
“Чёрт, не могу—” he gasped into your neck. [Fuck, I can't—]
You could feel it—the way he was trembling now, not just from the force, but from everything else. From what he was feeling. From what he didn’t know how to process.
And still, he thrust.
Over and over, burying himself so deep it felt like you’d never be empty of him again. Like he needed to put something inside you just to prove he was still real, still alive, still human.
“Ты… ты заставляешь меня чувствовать,” he choked out, voice breaking.
[You… you make me feel.]
You held him tighter, nails raking across his back, hips rolling up to meet him every time, matching him, grounding him, even as you felt his rhythm falling apart.
His breath hitched—once, twice—then turned into a sob.
A real, broken sound torn from somewhere deep inside.
He pressed his forehead to yours, still thrusting, still moving, but now he was shaking. Eyes clenched shut, jaw tight with everything he couldn't say.
“I can’t—” he whispered, in English this time. “I can’t—you—”
But he didn’t stop.
Couldn’t stop.
Not until he’d buried himself in you one more time—so deep, so hard—and everything inside him shattered.
He came with a strangled, guttural cry, hips jerking violently, arms locking around you like if he let go you’d disappear.
And even as his body trembled and spilled into you, his face was buried in your shoulder, hot tears slipping silently onto your skin.
Because he was feeling. And it hurt.
But he was with you.
His breathing was still ragged. His body still trembling.
But slowly—slowly—the rhythm of the moment faded. The rush of adrenaline, of heat and friction and need, drained from his limbs like a dying storm.
And the silence that followed?
It was deafening.
He froze.
Still buried deep inside you, still wrapped in your warmth, your scent, your body—but everything about him changed in an instant.
His arms, once tight around you, loosened.
His breath caught. Not from exertion.
From realization.
“No,” he rasped. The word cracked, sharp and breathless, like he didn’t believe he’d said it aloud. “No, no—fuck—”
He started to pull back. Away from you. Out of you. Like his body had committed some crime his mind was only just registering.
“I didn’t—I didn’t mean to—” His voice shattered as he tried to extract himself from your grip, shaking his head like it would rewind the clock. “I hurt you��I—I used you—I didn’t want—”
You grabbed his face before he could escape.
“Нет,” you whispered, firm. [No.]
He froze again, caught in your hands, his eyes wild and wet and full of something you’d never seen in him before.
Fear.
Disgust.
Shame.
“Look at me,” you said, voice low. “Посмотри на меня, Джеймс.” [Look at me, James]
He did. Barely.
“I let you in,” you whispered. “I wanted you.”
“But I—I wasn’t—me,” he stammered, throat thick. “I was him.”
“You were you, too,” you murmured. “And I knew it was you. Even if you didn’t.”
His face crumpled, the last of his defenses giving way as he collapsed against you, burying his head in your neck, his body still shaking—not from pleasure now, but from the weight of the world crashing down on him all at once.
Your fingers slid into his hair as he clung to you.
You murmured soft in his ear—like prayer, like song.
“Тише… всё хорошо… я с тобой… ты безопасный…”
[Easy… it’s alright… I’m with you… you’re safe.]
He didn’t answer.
Just held on tighter. And you let him.
Because you weren’t going anywhere.
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nadvs ¡ 3 months ago
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the power play (part two)
pairing hockeyplayer! rafe cameron x tutor! reader
rating mature 18+
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summary rafe is your complete opposite. the only thing you have in common with the hockey player you tutor is that he’s also recently had his heart broken. in a last-ditch effort to make the people who hurt you regret it, you agree to pretend to date.
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“There’s no way I just heard you right,” Lyla says. You look at your best friend through your phone screen, her mouth agape.
A moment ago, she called to invite you to her dorm room to watch movies. That sounds much better than the nerve-wracking plans you’ve already set for tonight.
“You did,” you laugh.
“You’re going to party,” she repeats, “with Rafe.”
“Yup,” you say. You set your phone down on your bed as you rifle through your closet. You’re already dressed, but you need to do something to expel your nervous energy.
You agreed to put on this farce yesterday. Now that you said it out loud, it’s setting in that you’re really going through with this.
“Back up,” she says over the phone behind you. “How did this happen?”
“We’ve gotten to know each other over tutoring. He asked me out. I said yes.”
“You actually like him like that?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow,” she replies.
You try to ignore the guilt that’s sitting on your shoulders. You’ve never lied to her, to anyone, like this.
But while she is your best friend, the bond she has with her twin brother is untouchable. You doubt she’d keep the truth of what you’re doing from Beck.
You settle back on your bed, picking up your phone.
“Well, I hope you have fun,” Lyla says with a chuckle, clearly surprised by your behavior. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
“Thanks,” you say meekly. You’ve never been on a real date. You’re not sure how convincing you’ll be on a pretend one.
A text notification appears, making your stomach turn with nerves.
It’s Rafe.
There in ten minutes.
════════
You haven’t stopped talking since you got in his car.
Rafe glances over at you when he stops at a red light, a minute away from the student house at the edge of campus.
“We have to be believable, right?” you ramble on, growing uneasier the more you think about it. ��Wait, will this look bad if anyone in the tutoring program finds out I’m dating you? It’s not like they ever said we can’t see the people we tutor, but if–”
“We can call this off,” Rafe interrupts. If you’re going to be a nervous mess, he’d rather not do this at all.
You cross your arms, staring ahead at the traffic light. It turns green.
“No. I just want to be prepared,” you say. “You’re sure he won’t be there?”
Rafe drives forward. He’d told you that most of the guys on the hockey team show up to these parties, but Beck usually skips out.
You’re hopeful he attends, but it may be better to ease into this before having to worry about convincing Beck just yet. Rafe is certain his ex will be there and you feel less pressure at the thought of having to trick one person instead of two.
“Pretty sure,” Rafe replies.
He doesn’t get why some athletes are so high-strung about partying. He parties every weekend and his game is just as solid.
It worked so well with Emma. He liked that she chased fun and had a careless approach to life that made him feel like if he spent enough time with her, he could, too.
“Okay,” you heavily sigh. “We’ll only have one person to fool, then.”
“Don’t take it so seriously, alright?” he says. “It’s just a party. We’ll show up, look like a couple, and leave.”
You nod, trying to picture how you should act tonight. You’ll hold Rafe’s hand. You’ll hug him. You’ll pretend like he’s charming, like he’s someone you can’t stop thinking about, instead of the cold person you know him to be.
“No kissing,” you say hurriedly. You’re not about to waste your first kiss on Rafe Cameron.
He snorts a laugh.
“Not a problem,” he says.
════════
The house is humid and crowded and loud. The bass is so heavy that you can’t make out the lyrics.
You’d thought touching Rafe would only be for show, but as he pushes through the foyer, you cup the inside of his elbow, using him as an anchor.
He greets a few guys once he gets to the living room. Some are familiar, hockey players you’ve seen before.
Rafe introduces you. By the way you’re clinging onto him as you greet his friends, he can tell you’re still on edge, but hiding it behind a big smile.
He leans down to speak close to your ear, and you realize since you’d only ever sat together before, you’d never noticed just how much he towers over you.
“I’m getting a beer,” Rafe says. “Do you drink?”
“Not usually,” you reply. “But I’ll take one.”
════════
On Rafe’s way back to you, he sees her. Emma’s in the crowd, smiling and dancing.
He still doesn’t get how she could throw it all away. They had so much fun together. He forgot about all the bad shit when he was with her. And then, all of a sudden, it was over.
He returns to find you chatting with Isaac, the team’s goalie. You thank Rafe for the drink, taking a sip and doing an awful job at hiding how much you hate the taste, and pull him into the conversation.
“Did you know he’s a music major?” you say, pointing to Isaac.
“Yeah,” Rafe says stiffly, still reeling from seeing his ex. “We’ve known each other for two years.”
“It’s so cool,” you say, unbothered by Rafe’s prickliness. “What kind of music are you most interested in?”
You continue to chat with Isaac, who’s clearly happy to be on the subject. Your nerves are stable now that you’re distracted by a genuine conversation.
Once there’s a lull, you turn to Rafe, clinking your beer against his, feeling like yourself again.
“Kind of late to cheers you now, but cheers,” you say.
“Do you talk everyone’s ear off?” he asks.
“I try to,” you reply with a grin, handing him your drink. “And now I need to go to the bathroom.”
════════
As you walk through the hallway to head back downstairs, a shelf crammed with books catches your eye. Unable to curb your curiosity, you wander into the bedroom to inspect the colorful spines.
You realize you lost track of time when a harsh voice interrupts your reading of a book’s back cover.
“You serious?” you hear behind you.
You turn to see Rafe at the door, two beers in his hands. You must have been gone so long that he had to come look for you.
“Oops,” you giggle. You cross the room, taking your drink back. “Thanks. I just wanted to check out the collection.”
“I didn’t bring you here to read,” he says sharply.
“Jeez,” you say, brows furrowing. Emma had said he was mean. She wasn’t kidding. “Why are you being grumpier than usual?”
Rafe exhales a sigh, but it’s not frustrated like usual. It’s wobbly. Almost sad.
“She’s here,” he murmurs.
Your heart sinks. She’s here. And you left him alone.
You beckon him into the room, shutting the door to avoid anyone overhearing. The music is muffled now, your senses mildly blurred from the alcohol.
“I didn’t mean to get distracted,” you say softly.
You gaze up at him to see that the hard, angry exterior you’ve grown accustomed to is gone. Right now, there’s a glimpse of softness, of genuine heartbreak.
You realize you only really heard Emma’s perspective on the relationship. You hardly know Rafe’s.
“She really did a number on you, huh?” you ask.
He only looks to the side, quiet and tense. You point to the desk by the window.
“Let’s sit,” you say.
“We don’t have to get into it,” he groans.
You settle on the desk’s surface.
“I should have some background information, don’t you think?” you say. “Humor me. I’m a decent listener. Way better at talking, but...”
You smile. Rafe is sure he’ll never understand how someone can be this damn perky.
Once he can tell you’re not letting it go, he shifts to sit on the chair, looking up at you through slitted eyes.
“How long were you together?” you ask.
“Few months.”
It's a little less impossible to picture Rafe as a boyfriend now that you see his guard down by half an inch. He must not open up all that much. You assume that’s why the breakup is hitting him so hard.
“Did you meet here at school?”
“Yeah.” He thinks back to when he’d sparked a conversation with Emma the first weekend of his sophomore year. “Things were good, but then she…”
He stops talking. He’s being pathetic. The night she ended things has been on a loop in his head. They were both drunk, at a party just like this one, arguing like they always did, when she said she was done with it, with everything.
That was a month and a half ago and he’s still a wreck.
He can’t help it. He’s always felt like a bottomless pit of a person, and Emma helped fill the void, made him feel like he was worth something.
Now that what she gave him is gone, he’s back to emptiness. To the constant reminders of how unlovable he is.
You stare at him. It’s obvious in the pain behind his stare, the tightness of clenched fists, that she broke his heart.
“Was it unexpected?” you ask.
He nods.
“Did you talk to her downstairs?”
“No,” he says. He pinches the bridge of his nose, pain radiating in his core. “This whole thing is stupid.”
“It’s not,” you say. “And as your tutor, I have to tell you that stupid is a bad word.”
He flashes you an unimpressed glare. The tables have turned between you, dropping you into the role of the one who needs to be confident and reassuring.
“It’ll be fine,” you say, your tone lighthearted. “You just have to look like you’re having fun with your new girlfriend, who you’re completely infatuated with and who you would never yell at for innocently reading the back cover of a book.”
Rafe looks towards the bookshelf he found you standing next to, guilt pinching his chest. He’s always hated it about himself, how he snaps first and thinks later.
“Any chance you saw Beck?” you ask.
“No.”
“Okay,” you say. You chug the rest of your beer and wince once the bottle is empty. “That was gross. Let’s go.”
════════
It takes a few minutes to catch Emma’s eye from across the noisy, inebriated crowd.
You’re standing in the corner of the living room facing Rafe, your arms on his shoulders like he instructed you to do. Once her gaze is on you, you cock your head.
“She’s looking,” you say.
The combination of witnessing Rafe’s heartbreak and drinking the bitter alcohol has loosened up your nerves. The man standing across from you may be rough around the edges, but he has a heart. And he gave it to someone who shattered it.
While you might not know much about their failed relationship, seeing his pain up close is enough to make you want to help.
You step a little closer, the room’s heat pressing on your skin.
“Did you start Pride and Prejudice yet?” you ask.
Rafe’s eyes sweep over your face, his big hands settling on your hips.
“Don’t tutor me right now.”
“We’re supposed to be flirting, so we have to talk about something,” you reply. “It’s a really good book. A love story if you’re into that.”
He grimaces.
“Well, it explores other themes, too.”
You notice Emma’s still looking right at you, and this time, Gabby is standing beside her and staring daggers, too.
“Hey, is it possible to get drunk off of one beer?” you ramble. “Or is it just placebo?”
“Get closer,” he tells you impatiently.
“Right.”
You slide your hands around the back of his neck and pull him down into a hug, his cheek pressed on yours, the aroma of crisp aftershave drifting over you.
“I should limit myself to half a beer next time,” you say in his ear, faking a smile.
“Lightweight,” he replies.
You act like you’re scanning the room, as if you’re meeting Emma’s eyes by chance, and when you see her cold stare, you squeeze him tighter.
“She looks really mad,” you tell him.
Rafe smirks, his chest grazing yours. It feels good knowing he still has an effect on his ex. If she was really over him like she said she is, she wouldn’t care. This is the taste of power he needed.
He slides his hands to the small of your back, languidly dragging up the curve of your spine.
If he was a guy you like, if he was Beck, you’d be a nervous mess right now. But this is methodical and calculated. It’s easy to flirt with someone when it’s fake. There’s nothing on the line.
In the corner of your eye, Emma whispers something to Gabby and they disappear into the crowd. You pull back and slowly slip your hands off of Rafe’s shoulders to pat his chest.
“She left and she wasn’t happy,” you say. “You’re welcome.”
════════
When you think about last Friday, it’s like you’re recalling a story you heard about someone else, because it can’t possibly have been you.
One drink had you completely uninhibited. You’ve never been so close to a man before, and there you were, holding Rafe against you, murmuring in his ear, acting like two mutually interested people at a party, when in reality, you’re both always at least a little annoyed with each other.
As you sit in the study room, waiting for him to arrive for your tutoring session, you’re unsure if it’ll be awkward to look him in the eye after all that happened between you.
“Hey,” Rafe coolly says when he comes in.
“Hey,” you reply.
“Beck asked about you.”
You perk up, completely distracted from whatever you were just feeling.
“What?”
Rafe settles in his usual spot, a satisfied smile pulling at his lips, clearly proud of himself for thinking of this ruse in the first place.
“The other day at practice,” he says. He pulls out his laptop. “He asked me if you and me are hanging out.”
“And?”
“I said yeah, but it’s all fake.” He gives you an impatient shrug. “What do you think I said?”
“Ha ha,” you say flatly. “His sister’s my best friend. He must’ve heard about us from her.”
You were convincing when Lyla asked you about how your date went the next day, telling her that you had a great time with Rafe. She’s still surprised at the mismatched pair, but she’s trying to be supportive.
Rafe notices the subtle frown on your face as you pull his laptop forward.
“Did he say anything else?” you ask.
“No.”
“He’s asked his sister and you about me,” you say, “but he won’t talk to me himself. If he wants to check in on me, he should. I mean, I’ll definitely lie and say I’ve been doing great, but still.”
You try to shake away the thought. You hate how much you still care, how much his years of flirting with you just for everything to end the way it did have hurt you.
“Have you heard from Emma?” you ask.
Sorrow seeps into you when Rafe’s eyes lose their brightness. You shouldn’t have asked.
“She’s trying to act like she doesn’t care,” you try to console him. “You’ll have the last laugh.”
You swiftly change the subject, finding the file he was supposed to fill with a first draft. There’s hardly anything. You suck your teeth with a disappointed tsk.
“Rafe,” you say. “You need to come here with more written down.”
“What the hell am I supposed to write about a love story?” he grumbles.
“I already told you there are other themes in this book,” you reiterate. “Let’s go through them.”
════════
The next evening, you’re leaving the library after a study session when your phone vibrates with a text. It’s Rafe, letting you know that the team is celebrating a win at an off-campus bar and that you should come.
Imagining yourself walking into the bar and seeing Beck and acting the same way you did at that party feels impossible. A little part of you is worried last weekend’s display was a lucky fluke.
You reply to him as you walk deeper into the cool spring night: I have readings to do.
When ur done then?
You stare down at your screen, uncertain and nervous. It was easy when you had Emma to fool. You were confident she’d have some sort of reaction, seeing that it was her ex-boyfriend you were cuddling up to.
But Beck might not even care. And that’d hurt.
You eventually come to the conclusion that it’s worth a try. Beck damaged your pride. You want to undo some of that damage. And you didn’t start this just to back out.
You text Rafe: I’ll call you when I get there.
════════
Half an hour later, your name flashes on Rafe’s phone. He stands from his place at the table, all other seats taken up by teammates and girlfriends, and he makes his way to the entrance of the bar.
Even though you’re just someone he’s pretending to be into, it feels good to have a person come to a party just for him again. Emma used to always tag along for these things, back when she was the constant in his life.
“Hey,” he answers your call.
“Meet me at the front,” you say on the other end. Rafe finds you at the door, your arms crossed, your lips pulled into an awkward smile.
“I didn’t want to come in alone,” you explain. He puts his phone back in his pocket, eyes travelling over you in confusion. Why are you back to being nervous?
“Loosen up,” he says.
“I’m trying,” you breathe.
“Just follow my lead,” he says. “Act like you don’t care that he’s here.”
Rafe offers you his hand and you take it, feeling his slightly calloused palm against yours. You keep your gaze on the floor as he takes you into the loud bar.
He doesn’t give you a chance to think. He gets to his seat and pulls you onto his lap. You try your best to act like this is something you’ve done before.
You drape your arm around his shoulders, looking down at him, finding a sense of reassurance in his striking blue eyes as his lap warms the underside of your thighs.
“Casually sitting on your lap,” you mumble. “This is normal for us. Totally normal. Who needs a chair? Not me.”
Most of the group is in lively conversation. Some people don’t even notice your arrival. But Beck does.
You offer him a small smile from across the table, the sight of him making your stomach flutter. He nods in greeting, unreadable.
Rafe’s hand rests on the side of your bare thigh, fingers splayed over your cool skin, right where your skirt ends.
“You’re cold,” he says, loud enough over the music, quiet enough that only you can hear him.
His muscles start to tighten as his thumb brushes over the swell of your thigh.
It’s instinct. He can’t control that he’s getting worked up. He has a pretty girl on his lap. It’d be weird if his body didn’t have some sort of reaction.
“Yeah. It’s cold out,” you reply.
“How’d you get here?” he asks accusingly.
“I walked.”
“Walked?” he repeats. “By yourself?”
“Campus security can only escort me through school property,” you say. “I was on my own for like, two minutes.”
“Don’t do that again,” he says, quieter now. “I’d never let my girl walk alone at night.”
You tilt your head, frustration bubbling up inside you.
“Let?” you echo, brows furrowed.
He stares at you with hard eyes, forcing himself to push past the irritation of what you’re implying — that he’s controlling. He heard it from Emma before. She never understood that he was trying to protect her.
You’re supposed to be happy to see each other, not arguing. And he needs to get you back for pissing off his ex the other night. And it’s a good idea to get his hand off of your leg for his own sake.
His touch is featherlight when he cups your cheek. Your eyes soften with appreciation. He’s putting on this show for you, forcing your tense conversation to look sweet, and it makes you a bit more relaxed.
His ex is nowhere to be found, but he’s being affectionate with you, holding up his part of the deal. You can only hope this is working on Beck. You’d spent years seeing him with girls; he’d never seen you with a guy.
“I would’ve picked you up,” Rafe says stiffly, his tone mismatching his gesture. “If you were my girlfriend, I wouldn’t be cool with knowing something could happen to you. You said we have to be believable, yeah?”
You study him under the dimmed, warm lights, your heart racing from feeling Beck’s presence at the other side of the table.
“So, it’s like you… feel responsible for my safety or something?” you ask.
The stress digging in Rafe’s shoulders fades into a relief he wasn’t expecting. It’s uncommon for him to feel understood. He felt it at times with his ex, but she hardly ever tried to see his side, calling him too much.
As if he needed the reminder. He knows he’s too much.
“Yeah,” he replies.
“I’ll tell you to come get me next time.”
He lowers his hand, resting it on your leg again. This time, though, he makes sure to only be touching your clothes, making no contact with your skin.
“How was the game?” you ask.
“We always beat Hatfield,” Rafe says.
“How many penalties did you get?”
“I don’t count.”
“I wouldn’t, either,” you say. “You’re in the sin bin a lot.”
Rafe’s lips curl into a smile that tells you he agrees, but that he also won’t change a thing.
“How’d you know that?”
“I came to a lot of games last semester.”
“You should probably start coming to them again,” he says.
He’s right. If this were real, you’d be coming to the rink to cheer your boyfriend on.
“It’s kind of hard for me,” you admit.
Rafe grimaces in the impatient way he always does, wearing that look that implies whatever you just said is silly. You lick your lips nervously, leaning even closer to him to explain.
“I used to go to all of his games,” you say, hushed. “All through high school, too. Sitting behind the home bench just reminds me of all the time I wasted thinking he liked me, too.”
You pull back. Rafe stares at you for a moment. Despite your differences, you really have been hurt the same way. You both saw a future with someone who gave you a glimmer of hope just to shut you down.
He doesn’t usually care enough to make someone feel better. Right now is different.
“Then sit behind the sin bin,” he says. “Count my penalties for me.”
You laugh. And when you notice Beck’s eyes on you, it feels really good.
You think back to what Rafe said, to act like you don’t care. You notice Isaac a few seats away and greet him with a hello and a smile, then meet Beck’s gaze.
“How was the game?” you say casually from across the table.
“Good,” Beck answers. “It’s cool to play with Marcus again.”
“Oh, right,” you say. Marcus was a mutual friend in high school who now plays for Hatfield, a college a town away. “Did you get to talk to him?”
“Not really,” Beck replies. “What’s up with you? It’s been a while.”
It’s irritating to hear him say that, as if the distance between you wasn’t all because of him. You used to talk to Beck all the time, until he unexpectedly drove you away.
You shrug, hoping you don’t give away how hurt you’ve been.
“Not much,” you say. You look at Rafe, willing yourself to flirt with another man in front of the one who broke your heart. “This one guy I’m tutoring has been taking up all my time.”
“Sounds rough,” Rafe says.
“Yeah,” you play along, “but I’m very patient.”
“You are,” Beck says. “I wouldn’t have survived last semester if it weren’t for you.”
You force another smile, meeting Beck’s gaze again. You don’t like the reminder of all the time you spent helping him with school, pining for him, hoping he pined for you, too.
Rafe looks between you and Beck as you continue to chat. There’s an obvious history between you two, a tone that only old friends could have, but the exchange is stiff.
It’s clear, at least to him, that there’s something you two aren’t talking about.
════════
Once the night ends, you get into Rafe’s car. He turns the key, the engine roaring to life.
“That was great,” you murmur sarcastically as you put on your seatbelt. You meant it to come out as a joke, but your voice has a strain to it.
It would’ve been amazing if Beck stared like Emma did the other night, but he didn’t. You feel rejected all over again.
“I think he knows us both well enough to know we can’t really like each other like that,” you say. You watch the bar’s neon sign blink in the passenger side mirror as you try to ground yourself. “Oh, well. We tried.”
Rafe highly doubts he caught on. There’s no world where you’d two be a couple — you’re irritatingly chatty and wear your heart on your sleeve, the complete opposite of Rafe and what he looks for in a girl — but while Beck kept a cool facade, his glances at you weren’t skeptical. And they weren’t platonic, either.
He puts the car in drive, anxiety gnawing at him as he pulls out of the parking lot. It sounds like you’re about to call it quits all because of a false assumption.
“He fell for it,” Rafe mutters. “And he was jealous. You’re crazy if you think he wasn’t.”
You were hoping that Beck would be convinced that you’re fine after what happened between you. That maybe he’d regret the way he handled things. But you never thought he’d actually be jealous. Why would he be if he never liked you in the first place?
“Then I guess I’m crazy,” you tell him, “because to me, he didn’t seem to care at all.”
Rafe scratches his jaw, exasperated.
“You ever think that maybe he’s just not transparent like you are?” he says after a beat.
You look at his profile, the passing streetlights washing over the planes of his face.
“Transparent?” you echo. “So, I… gave us away?”
“That’s not what I mean,” Rafe says gruffly. “You’re convincing with my help, but without it, you’re damn easy to read. He’s not as obvious as you. If you looked hard enough, though, you could tell that he really didn’t like that you were sitting on my lap.”
You stare ahead at the darkened street. From your first tutoring session with Rafe, he had you figured out. You mentioned Beck and he caught on to whatever gave you away.
You’ve been able to pretend you’ve been fine, that your heart has been kept intact. Rafe is the only one who saw through it, from the moment he sat down next to you in that study room. He has a knack for reading people.
“How do you do that?” you ask, studying his features once more.
“What?”
“I’m not easy to read,” you say. “Nobody else has picked up on how upset I’ve been over him. Not even my best friend. But you called me out right away. How are you so good at seeing through people?”
Rafe’s grip tightens on the steering wheel. It’s a loaded question.
He spent his childhood hyperware of what unhappiness looks like in people, desperately clinging onto his dad’s fickle approval since he can remember. It never left his system. It turned him into a man trained in recognizing the slightest change in someone’s mood.
He could even sense when Emma was falling out of love with him. She said he was paranoid when he called her out on it, but he knew he was right.
After you spend your life starving for approval, wanting someone to see every side of you and decide that you’re worth loving, it’s second nature to make note of the signs that they’re writing you off. And to lose control when you beg them not to.
He swallows hard. You simply mentioned how observant he is and his mind is spinning now. You stripped back a layer, peeling at a part of him he pretends doesn’t exist.
It’s another thing about you that he’d never want in a real girlfriend. You’re doing what you did the other night when you asked about his ex. You’re prying.
“Just am,” he finally replies.
The tension is nipping at his bones, the memories flooding back with no mercy. Emma never dug at him like this. It’s part of why he liked her so much. She didn’t make him look at these sides of himself.
“Riveting,” you say, rolling your head to the side to look out the window. “Well, you don’t need to try to make me feel better, okay? You can give it to me straight that he doesn’t like me like that.”
“Did you register anything I just said?” he scoffs.
“Now you know how I feel when I’m tutoring you,” you joke, unaffected by his brashness like usual.
“He asked me about you the first chance he got, remember? And he was awkward as hell tonight. He cares. He’s just the type that’s desperate for everyone to think he’s a good guy, so when he’s jealous, he tries to hide it.”
You mull over his words. You’ve only ever thought the world of Beck, until he abruptly distanced himself from you and made you almost certain that he’d been conciously leading you on for years.
To think of him as someone preoccupied with being liked feels accurate. He always keeps the peace, possibly in an effort for approval.
The idea that he did feel something for you, that he does, is a dangerous type of hope you’re well acquainted with. It makes you feel better that someone else sees what you’d seen for years.
Rafe’s words, albeit curt, bring you relief. Beck must feel something that he never wanted to act on. And he might want to act on it now.
“I guess I’m just so used to overthinking about him,” you admit. “Thanks.”
Rafe is silent. Irritated. Tense. You didn’t want to believe all that Emma had told you that night at the rink, but most things check out. He’s moodier than you could’ve expected.
“You okay?” you ask.
He’s doing it again. He’s hardly offering any insight on what he’s thinking, shutting you out. Your dynamic feels unbalanced now, considering how much you’ve told him.
Rafe comes to a stop in front of your building. He’d do anything but admit why he’s so good at reading people. It’s a burden, a reminder of the desperation that’s lived in him ever since he was a child.
“We’re here,” he states flatly.
You unbuckle your seatbelt. Despite everything, you don’t have it in you to be angry at him. Not after he helped you so much. Not after he tried to console you in his own abrupt way.
“Rafe?”
“What?”
You stare at him until he gives in and looks at you, wearing yet another grimace.
“I’m not technically going through a breakup, but if anyone kind of gets what you’re going through right now, it’s me,” you tell him. “I vent to you a lot. It’s cool if you want to vent to me, too. This is all an act, but it doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. That’s all. Thanks for the ride.”
You step out of the car and shut the door, leaving Rafe with the disquieting realization that if he’s going to keep doing this with you, he’ll have to accept the fact that you probably won’t stop prying.
next >
author’s note it’s not a fic by me if rafe doesn’t have daddy issues…
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phantomrose96 ¡ 1 year ago
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The conversation around AI is going to get away from us quickly because people lack the language to distinguish types of AI--and it's not their fault. Companies love to slap "AI" on anything they believe can pass for something "intelligent" a computer program is doing. And this muddies the waters when people want to talk about AI when the exact same word covers a wide umbrella and they themselves don't know how to qualify the distinctions within.
I'm a software engineer and not a data scientist, so I'm not exactly at the level of domain expert. But I work with data scientists, and I have at least rudimentary college-level knowledge of machine learning and linear algebra from my CS degree. So I want to give some quick guidance.
What is AI? And what is not AI?
So what's the difference between just a computer program, and an "AI" program? Computers can do a lot of smart things, and companies love the idea of calling anything that seems smart enough "AI", but industry-wise the question of "how smart" a program is has nothing to do with whether it is AI.
A regular, non-AI computer program is procedural, and rigidly defined. I could "program" traffic light behavior that essentially goes { if(light === green) { go(); } else { stop();} }. I've told it in simple and rigid terms what condition to check, and how to behave based on that check. (A better program would have a lot more to check for, like signs and road conditions and pedestrians in the street, and those things will still need to be spelled out.)
An AI traffic light behavior is generated by machine-learning, which simplistically is a huge cranking machine of linear algebra which you feed training data into and it "learns" from. By "learning" I mean it's developing a complex and opaque model of parameters to fit the training data (but not over-fit). In this case the training data probably includes thousands of videos of car behavior at traffic intersections. Through parameter tweaking and model adjustment, data scientists will turn this crank over and over adjusting it to create something which, in very opaque terms, has developed a model that will guess the right behavioral output for any future scenario.
A well-trained model would be fed a green light and know to go, and a red light and know to stop, and 'green but there's a kid in the road' and know to stop. A very very well-trained model can probably do this better than my program above, because it has the capacity to be more adaptive than my rigidly-defined thing if the rigidly-defined program is missing some considerations. But if the AI model makes a wrong choice, it is significantly harder to trace down why exactly it did that.
Because again, the reason it's making this decision may be very opaque. It's like engineering a very specific plinko machine which gets tweaked to be very good at taking a road input and giving the right output. But like if that plinko machine contained millions of pegs and none of them necessarily correlated to anything to do with the road. There's possibly no "if green, go, else stop" to look for. (Maybe there is, for traffic light specifically as that is intentionally very simplistic. But a model trained to recognize written numbers for example likely contains no parameters at all that you could map to ideas a human has like "look for a rigid line in the number". The parameters may be all, to humans, meaningless.)
So, that's basics. Here are some categories of things which get called AI:
"AI" which is just genuinely not AI
There's plenty of software that follows a normal, procedural program defined rigidly, with no linear algebra model training, that companies would love to brand as "AI" because it sounds cool.
Something like motion detection/tracking might be sold as artificially intelligent. But under the covers that can be done as simply as "if some range of pixels changes color by a certain amount, flag as motion"
2. AI which IS genuinely AI, but is not the kind of AI everyone is talking about right now
"AI", by which I mean machine learning using linear algebra, is very good at being fed a lot of training data, and then coming up with an ability to go and categorize real information.
The AI technology that looks at cells and determines whether they're cancer or not, that is using this technology. OCR (Optical Character Recognition) is the technology that can take an image of hand-written text and transcribe it. Again, it's using linear algebra, so yes it's AI.
Many other such examples exist, and have been around for quite a good number of years. They share the genre of technology, which is machine learning models, but these are not the Large Language Model Generative AI that is all over the media. Criticizing these would be like criticizing airplanes when you're actually mad at military drones. It's the same "makes fly in the air" technology but their impact is very different.
3. The AI we ARE talking about. "Chat-gpt" type of Generative AI which uses LLMs ("Large Language Models")
If there was one word I wish people would know in all this, it's LLM (Large Language Model). This describes the KIND of machine learning model that Chat-GPT/midjourney/stablediffusion are fueled by. They're so extremely powerfully trained on human language that they can take an input of conversational language and create a predictive output that is human coherent. (I am less certain what additional technology fuels art-creation, specifically, but considering the AI art generation has risen hand-in-hand with the advent of powerful LLM, I'm at least confident in saying it is still corely LLM).
This technology isn't exactly brand new (predictive text has been using it, but more like the mostly innocent and much less successful older sibling of some celebrity, who no one really thinks about.) But the scale and power of LLM-based AI technology is what is new with Chat-GPT.
This is the generative AI, and even better, the large language model generative AI.
(Data scientists, feel free to add on or correct anything.)
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koostattoos ¡ 2 years ago
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Endless Summer || j.jk
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~ Pairing: jock!Jungkook x nerd!reader
~ Genre: academic rivals to lovers , fluff, angst, smut, college au, slowburn
~ Summary: Summer vacation was right around the corner. Being in a program that required you at the beach every day was a big pro. After seeing Jeon Jungkook at the same beach as you everything was ruined. Jungkook was the school’s heartthrob. Girls throwing themselves at him left and right, going to parties every other day, and coming in and out of those parties with different girls. Not to mention he’s the biggest dick you’ve ever met. Avoiding him was in your best interest. His being there threw avoiding him out the window. Summer can’t be that bad. Right?
~ word count: 13.4k
~ Warnings: golden era!jk (yes this is a warning) oral (m & f receiving), doggy, dom!jk, sub!reader, dirty talk, unprotected sex (be smart), aftercare, so much fluff!
~ A/n: God, this is my first time writing ever!! I really hope this finds the right audience and readers please enjoy. i pray this doesn’t come off as a boring story pls pls show some support, it’d be soooo appreciated 🫶🏼🫶🏼! Happy reading!
~
For the past thirty minutes you sat staring at your suitcase still trying to figure out what the hell to pack for the next months. The program that you joined had asked everyone if they wanted to go on a trip for extra credit to work for the beach down by Busan for junior year. Not that you needed it, you had zero plans made for this summer.
Niki’s out of town visiting her family for the summer and Sohee’s out doing what Sohee does, probably out exploring abandoned places or getting high somewhere. Who knows? You decided to get up and start packing. You walked over to your closet to skim over your outfits and carefully picked out a few outfits for the next few months. After two hours of packing, your phone dings with a notification from Niki
Niki: omg can’t believe it’s summer already! have fun on your little trip down to Busan. If anything happens call or text me right away! Luv ya!
You smile down at your phone. You and Niki have been friends for years, you first met in your freshman year of high school. She taught you everything, from how to do your make-up and style your clothes and all that fun stuff. Funny how you both got into the same college and ended up sharing the same dorm. She’s gone around the campus having different guys in and out. You would say you guys are complete opposites. You would rather stay in and watch a movie or something instead of going out and partying with drunk college students and grinding my body against sweaty skin.
After finishing up the last of your packing you respond.
Me: heyyy, omg I know! The school year went by so fast, say hi to your mom n dad for me and give Nani kisses for me! And of course, you’ll always be the first to know everything! Luv u too! Enjoy your summer ♡
Putting your phone down, you check when you are supposed to leave and meet everyone at the train station. The ticket said 8:00 am. You set your alarm for tomorrow and get ready for bed. Checking your phone for the last time you turn the lights off and drift off to dreamland.
~
Waking up to your alarm clock blaring in your ear. It’s near 6:00 am, you get up and start getting ready. Walking into the bathroom you bring out your skin care routine. After finishing up and brushing your teeth, you go back to where your vanity is and start with your makeup.
Choosing what to wear was easy, you chose a simple outfit. An oversized black hoodie, black parachute cargos, and white gamma forces. You come out of your room to the living room and take your bag off the counter and get the rest of the bags for the trip. The drive to the train station took longer than expected. Traffic was horrible. The ride was said to be only about 30 minutes, you ended up getting there about an hour later.
After blasting music on the way there you had finally arrived, you see a few of your classmates from previous classes and walk up to say hi. “Yunjin!” You shouted her name, catching her attention.
She waves at you and starts making her way over. “Oh my god hey girl!” She goes in for a hug and starts talking about the next two months. “This is so exciting! I’ve been waiting for this trip for so long, I hope we get free time because I’m too exhausted from all those tests.” She says with low shoulders. Out of nowhere she gasps and turns to you “You’ll never fucking guess who I just saw” You look at her with a curious face “Who?” she leans in closer “Jeon Jungkook”. Your face had gone red. Hearing Jungkook’s name coming out of her mouth left you shocked. Not forgetting the history, you and the boy had.
It all started in junior high in the 7th grade. You had finished your final tests of the year, and the scores were finally out for everyone to see. As you walked up to the board, expecting to read your name first as it always is on top of the board. Standing behind a tall boy with dark raven hair you moved to the side to peek at the score you had got.
Before you could even take a glance at the highest score the boy yells close to your ear. He jumps in the air and says “LETS FUCKING GO” he turns around and notices you, he looks you in the eye before walking away. You go up to the board and look for your name. Right above your name is Jeon Jungkook.
You couldn’t believe your eyes that he out of all people managed to score above you. You glare at him and say “Hey! Did you cheat?! There’s no way you have the highest score after me when you couldn’t even place last year!” He scoffs at you and looks at you with narrowed eyes “I’ve earned that spot being last doesn’t feel good right? Stop being such a conceited bitch and learn how to share the board. Accept you're not the smartest in the school” he snares and walks away. You had felt a surge of anger towards that day and couldn’t stand to be around him for the rest of your life. You promised yourself to avoid any contact with Jeon Jungkook and to make sure he never topped you again.
After staring at him for atleast five minutes you snap out of your thoughts. Looking over at Yunjin you say “What is he doing here? I’ve never seen him attend any of the meetings or give any interest in the program” she looks back at you after looking at him “Yeah, he and Yuno are close friends. I guess he brought it up to him and took it upon himself to ask Jungkook to the trip” she shrugs. You glance over at him again and see him talking to Yuno. You never noticed his pretty features. You hadn't seen him since you bumped into him at the café all those months ago. His hair got longer, he has more piercings, and a lot more tattoos on his right arm. Has he always looked this good?
No, thinking like this is wrong. You needed to remember all the cruel names he called you. You decided to look away after hearing the announcements on the speaker. “Train number 7 now boarding.” is heard. Going to grab your things a hand is placed on top of one of yours. You look up and you're met with those same eyes that looked at you with hate.
“You need help with that?” he smiles at you “No thanks I got it”. You quickly take the bag from his hand and board the train. Luckily, you had moved quickly enough so you could get a shared booth with Yunjin. You place your bags in the overhead compartment and get settled. It would take you about 3 hours to get there. Now settled in your seat you lay back with your head resting on the head rest and blast your music. Just as you became relaxed you felt your hoodie become wet with liquid.
“Oh shit, my bad” he says
You look up at the voice. Of course, it’s him. Jungkook looks up at you and rolls his eyes.
“Nice going dumbass” you say under your breath.
Yunjin grabs tissue from her purse to help and says “God, what the hell is his problem? He really had the audacity to walk away and not even apologies.” she said.
After heading to the washroom and putting on an extra T-shirt you had in your bag you walk back to your seat but not before you look up to see Jungkook, watching as you walk past him, you turn your head forward and sit back into your seat. This is going to be a long ride.
~
Arriving at the dorms was a hassle. Taking everyone's stuff off the train was a breeze but sorting everybody into two buses was more difficult than it should have been. Surprisingly enough you and Yunjin ended up sharing a bigger dorm with two other girls, Irene and Jini. You and Irene shared the same economics class and Jini had recently signed up for this program.
You walked around the building and noticed a pool and a hot tub placed in the back. The kitchen area was big enough for atleast fifteen people. Walking back to the common area, everyone went their own ways into their rooms and decided to meet up around one for lunch. After opening the door to your home for the next two months, you were met with the most beautiful window view. Looking out to the beach you could see the waves crashing against the shore and people enjoying their time with their families and loved ones.
After taking in the view, you walked over to your bag to pick an outfit out for lunch. You lift up one of the outfits you had picked out while packing. Touching up your makeup and getting your shoes on, you all leave to head down to meet everyone in the common area. As you walked out of your dorm, you were (yet again) met with the sight of Jungkook as you looked at each other. His dorm is right across from yours. Great! You had thought, this summer couldn’t get any worse. He looks at you up and down, smirks and walks away.
~
You walk down the stairs to see a few people waiting. As you were waiting, you met up with Irene and Jini, Yunjin was still getting ready as were a few other people. Looking around the room you catch Jungkook taking a glimpse of you with his hands in his pockets. He wore a fitted T-shirt with his arm full of tattoos on display along with cargo pants. You make eye contact with him for several seconds before looking away to find Yunjin.
Finally, everyone in count went into separate cars and explored what the city had in store for them. Busan was a big city; there was so much to do. An option you had was to look around for places you could eat at while you spent your time there. You decided to walk around and look at the stores. A small old lady had her hand out waving you over to her stand. “I have a beautiful bracelet that has your name written all over it,” she said.
“It’s really pretty but I'm not looking to buy anything right now” you kindly declined her offer
“Please have it for free, it compliments you so well” she raises her hand with the bracelet
It was decorated in white shells and blue starfish charms. You took the bracelet from her hand, and you thanked her. Finished figuring out where to settle you chose a restaurant that wasn’t far from where the car was parked.
Finding a table wasn’t difficult. The place wasn’t packed besides a few of the other students that chose the same spot were empty. The empty space was filled with the noise of the bell at the top of the door, you look up to see where the noise had come from and that’s when you see Jungkook. He stood there with Yuno and the rest of his other friends. He goes to sit at a table near yours.
You made eye contact, and he scoffed. You roll your eyes at him, and he speaks up
“Are you following me or something? You seem to be everywhere I am.”
You glare at him “Are you sure it's not the opposite? Every time I look up you happen to be where I am every single time”
He looks at you like you're mental “I think someone’s a little stalker we chose this place before you guys walked in” he sneered at you.
You look up to him and cross your arms, “I think the one obsessed is you, every damn time I look up there you are literally staring into my soul, what the fuck is your problem.”
“No problem here like you said I just happen to be here when you are” he shrugs
“Asshole” you mumble
Walking back to your table you feel his stare burning into the back of your head.
When you excuse yourself to the bathroom you couldn’t help but look up at Jungkook. He was laughing with his friends with his hands on his lap; manspreading. “God, damn it does he have to be so fine” You mumble under your breath
After freshening up you walk back to the table, and you see a girl next to him. She’s touching on his tattooed arm and giggling at what he said. You felt this weird sensation in your stomach. Was it jealousy? No way, but he can’t possibly be that funny she’s holding her stomach.
Walking back to the girls and sitting back down. Irene notices something off about your mood.
“Hey, are you okay?” Irene placed a hand on your back.
“You look a little red” You take your phone out to check your face. You needed to calm down.
“Oh, it’s just getting a little hot in here is all.” She gives you a soft smile and nods her head
After lunch was over, you decided to take a walk around the city to look around and find something to do to pass the time. Jini had found a photo booth near one of the stands selling handmade pictures “Guys!” she exclaimed “Let’s take some pictures!” Ten poses later, Yunjin found a bakery and got something to snack on while you looked around. After waiting for Yunjin and Jini you all decided to hang out and look at the scenery.
~
Walking back to the dorms it was sunset hour. The walk back to the dorms was breathtaking. The sun was setting low over the horizon, and the sounds of the waves crashing were soothing. When you got back to the dorms everyone filed to their rooms to relax and figure out the plan for what to do for dinner. You ended up texting Niki and telling her about today.
Me: Omg Niki, today was our first day of the beach program. We went out and explored Busan. It’s so beautiful over here I wish you could see for yourself.
Me: But you’ll never guess who I’m spending the next two months with
I wait for her to respond. It only takes a couple seconds until I see the three grey dots pop up on my screen.
Niki: Aww I miss you so much we should take a girl's trip soon! But pleaseeee tell me it’s not who I think it is
Me: Jeon Jungkook
Niki: NO YOURE LYING
You chuckle at her response
Me: I’m being serious
Niki: I thought he was stupid and didn’t show up to the meetings how did he know about this trip?
Me: Supposedly he’s friends with Yuno’s group and Yuno told him about the trip.
Waiting another few seconds until the three dots appear again.
Niki: Of course, he’s friends with them they all fuck around especially Jungkook
Me: You’re right, I should’ve known they were friends. Anyways I gotta get ready for dinner soon, I’ll update you if anything else happens.
This time she takes a few minutes
Niki: Alrighty! Enjoy your dinner and you BETTER tell me everything! I love you and stay safe!
You smile at her last text. Putting your phone down you start to get ready for tonight. The mentor wanted everyone to have dinner together so they could discuss the plans for tomorrow. Deciding to take a shower to wash off the sweat from today’s adventures and redo your makeup in a different style. You curled your hair and chose different shoes, deciding to go with low pumps to make walking around easier. The dress you had picked out was a simple little summer dress with small flowers decorated all over.
~
Walking downstairs you see Jungkook with Eunwoo talking. He’s cladded with a black blazer with a white shirt underneath paired with black dress pants and white shoes. In all honesty he looked handsome tonight. His hair is slicked back and he's wearing a chain around his neck with rings on his fingers.
As you make your way down the stairs, he looks up from Eunwoo to you. He looks back down and finishes his conversation with a smile.
“He looks like he’s about to eat you alive. I don’t blame him; you look so good” Yunjin says
You smile at her and compliment her back “Oh my God, are you kidding? You took my breath away the second you walked out of the room; I love your makeup” you say giggling. The mentor comes up and introduces himself when everyone seems to be present.
“Hello everyone, my name is Mr. Kwan I will be in charge of everything that goes on around here and I will be announcing our activities for the next month or so.”
You look around and your eyes land on Jungkook. He’s standing next to Yuno now with his arms crossed. He must have felt your stare because he turned his head towards you and then to the floor. You can make out a faint smirk on his lip. You look away with a confused expression and take your phone out to check if you have something on your face. Not seeing anything you shake it off and turn your attention to Mr. Kwan
“Tomorrow is when we start your tasks. I will assign each of you to a job and that’s the task you must do for that week, every other week each group will switch tasks. You will get to have a day off as a break. Do I make myself clear?” Mr. Kwan says.
There's a mix of yeses and head shakes. He takes out a clip board and tells us what to do next. “Okay, I have two boards with the list of names, please take turns finding your name on either one of these” He places them down on a table and asks, “Any questions?” One of the many students, Vernon, raised his hand and asked, “Can we go out after hours?”
“No, everyone should be in their rooms with lights off, no sneaking out or bringing outside guest” As you walk over to the beach cleanup board and find your name nowhere to be seen. Finally walking to lifeguard duty, there your name was. But right under it say. Jeon Jungkook.
This means you’d have to spend the next two months in the presence of Jungkook. Shaking your head, you turn around back to Yunjin to figure out what she had gotten. But instead, you're met with a firm chest. Looking up to meet the face of the person you see him; he has his hands on your elbows to stabilize me.
“Watch where you’re going.” he says with furrowed brows.
He lets go of you and walks over to the clip boards. You hear him chuckle.
“What’s so funny?” You asked him.
He turns around to face me and says, “I have to spend my days at the beach with you? For two months? I’m going to die if I even spend another minute with you.” he shakes his head pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Yeah, well I’m not so fond of you either Jeon. So, stop bitching about it, I’m not excited about it either” with that I roll my eyes and walk away.
~
At the restaurant everyone picked their own tables. You see Jungkook a few more tables down from where you’re sat, thank God. You took your seat next to Yunjin and talked about the events for the upcoming week.
“What did you get for this week?” I asked her.
“I have clean up duty. I heard the weather’s supposed to be nice so I’m not too worried” You clear your throat and sit up in your seat. “I have lifeguard duty and guess who I’m with.” You look over to Jungkook and he has a grin on his face with his arms crossed and his head tilted down.
“Oh no.” she says placing a hand on your arm
“I have to spend the next two months with him every single day. I don’t know how I’ll survive” you say rubbing your head.
~
Nearing the end of the dinner everyone gets up to leave and go back to the dorms. The restaurant was only a few minutes away, so some decided to walk. Those ‘some’ being you and your group, Jungkook and his, and a couple of other students. As you’re walking, you see Jungkook walking aside Yuno.
He has his hands in his pocket and he’s looking out at the beach. It looked beautiful tonight, the moon lit up the sand and the stars were beaming. Not looking at where you were stepping, you had tripped over your feet and waited to hit the floor. But you never made contact.
Instead, you feel a strong set of arms around your waist, and when you open your eyes; you see Jungkook looking down at you. You stayed still for a few seconds before he lifted you back up. His hold tight around you tight
“Be careful, idiot” he said before letting go
I stared at him. You had question why he didn’t just stand there and let you fall. He turned around to catch up with his friends and continued to walk back to the dorms like nothing happened
~
Back at the dorms everyone goes to their respected rooms and gets ready for bed. As Irene went to turn off the light, she heard a knock on the door. You get up from the bed and check to see who it is. When you open the door and you’re met with Jungkook and Yuno. Yuno speaks up and says, “Were going out, if you wanna join us you can.” Irene and Jini walk up to me
“Who’s at the door” Irene and Yuno meet eyes. He smiles at her.
“Um, were just gonna go out and hang, I was just saying that guys can come and join us if you want.”
“Uh yeah sure” she says.
“Alright, cool meet you guys down there in a few” You go to look up at him, but Jungkook had already had his eyes on you looking you up and down smiling. That’s when you realized you’re in a Hello Kitty pajama set. Looking down you quickly push past Irene and Jini.
Yunjin was fast asleep already, quietly making your way to the bathroom to get the stuff you need and change out of your clothes. You end up wearing a plain gray T-shirt with black baggy sweats
Finally done putting makeup on, only putting on some light foundation and lip gloss, you put on some white sneakers and start to head out with the girls. Closing the door softly, you walk out and see Jungkook with his arms crossed and back against the wall next to his door. He looks up and says, “Where are your Hello Kitty pajamas?” he chuckles. you stopped to glare at him and walk away. Before you could reach the first step, you felt his grip on my arm.
“Aren’t you scared were gonna get caught little miss goody two shoes” he raised his eyebrows.
“Go away, I’m only going out because YOUR friend invited us, and all my other friends are going out with you guys. I don’t want to be stuck in the dorm not doing anything.”
“And don’t judge my Hello Kitty pj’s I saw the big ass plush sitting on your bed when I went to go downstairs earlier”
He stops for a minute as he watches you ascend down the stairs. Hearing his loud footsteps following close behind you. Reaching the bottom of the stairs you see your friends waiting for you.
“What took you so long?” Jini asked
“Ask him” you point at Jungkook
“So where are we going?” you asked
“There’s a bonfire my friend is hosting. There’s gonna be so much we can do, I can’t stay in that tiny ass dorm all day” Yuno exclaimed. As you’re walking to the beach you feel someone walking next to you. Jungkook looks straight ahead as you make your way down to the bonfire. His hair is still damp from the shower he took, he’s wearing a gray crewneck with black shorts. His hands in his pocket he speaks up “Why are you on this trip?”
“I could be asking you the same thing. I haven’t seen you at a single meeting yet now all of a sudden, you’re interested?”
“Oh? So you pay attention to me now?” he looks down smiling
“No, it’s just that you never cared or even bothered listening to what anyone said about this program so now do you feel the need to participate in it?”
He looks everywhere but you.
“I don’t know, I heard someone was going to be here and decided fuck it and signed up.” he shrugs with his hands behind his back. You look up at him with a curious look on your face. As you were about to speak up you hear Yuno’s voice
“Yo, JK we could use a little help over here”
Jungkook looks back at you and says “Gotta go, don’t go tripping when I’m not here to catch you” he winks at you
He runs down to help the guys and you’re left confused.
~
Everyone was surrounded by the fire, drinking, and having a good time. Jungkook is across from where you’re sitting and he’s laughing about something his friend said. He looks up and meets your eyes and you quickly turn your head to look away. From the corner of your eye, Jungkook stands up to walk to the cooler next to him. He picks up a cool beer and makes his way over to you. He hands you the beer and sits next to you.
“How do you like it so far?” he asked
“Why are you being nice to me? You acted like you hated me the whole day” your eyebrows furrowed
“What are you talking about?”
“You know what it’s getting late, and I don’t have time to deal with you right now”
He stands up as the same time as you and grabs your arm “Wait”, you stop and look at him
“At least let me walk you back to the dorms”
Hesitantly agreeing, he lets go of your arm and you both make your way back to the rooms.
~
It’s the first day of your tasks. Everybody separates into different cars. The beach you’re working at is only a 30-minute drive. All the seats are taken except for the one next to the person you prayed you wouldn’t have to see until you got to the beach. Jungkook looked at you and looked down on his lap. You finally went to sit down next to him. You put your earphones in and blast your music so you wouldn’t have to hear him talk.
You wake up with your head heavy against something. When you open your eyes and feel Jungkook’s head on top of yours and your cheek against his shoulder. Immediately you raise your head –waking him up in the process- and hop out of the car.
Taking in a deep breath you walk over to the ledge of the hill the cars parked at and look over the edge. You close your eyes for a moment to take in the salty air of the sea. The wind is blowing your hair out of your face. Little did you know Jungkook was staring at you; admiring the way you looked so relaxed. After a few more seconds you turn your head and walk over to the car to grab your stuff
You already had your swimsuit on under an oversized T-shirt and some shorts. It was an open back black one piece you had bought the day prior to coming on the trip. You carry your bag down the sand but feel it lift off your shoulder. You look up and see Jungkook carry it all the way down to your stations.
“Okay everyone, listen up” Mr. Kwan yelled
“I have assigned everyone a partner to work with for the next week, please come up to me and tell me your name”
As you walk up to Mr. Kim you tell him your name and he tells you who he paired you with. Surprise again you’re with Jungkook. He calls him over and tells him what he told you. Jungkook looks down at you and you look up at him. He smirks and walks back to where he set your things. Following behind him you unpack your things.
You grab your sunscreen, squeeze a dollop into your hand, and you rub it all over your body; starting on your front. Jungkook stands next to you as he takes his shirt off, showing off his body. You stare up at him and admire him for just a second. He looks down and catches your eyes
“Are you staring at me?” he chuckled
Looking away quickly you say “No, I wasn’t”
“Sure, whatever you say, you need help with that?” he says as he points to you struggling to get your back.
“Yes, please” going to hand him the bottle he squeezed some on to his hand and moves your hair to the side. He glides his hand across the span of your back. He starts at your shoulders and works his way down to the middle of your back. His hands moving slowly, getting closer to your lower back.
You clear your throat, and his hands are to himself now. You lay your hair in it’s original spot and you stand to look at the beach full of people. It was only 9:00 in the morning yet the beach was packed. Walking over to your stand you climb the steps and take a seat. Jungkook walks over next to the stand, and he has a floaty in his hand. A couple of minutes pass by in silence before he speaks up.
“When do you want to switch spots?”
“When we see someone drowning”
He sighs and sits down.
~
After nearly an hour later a group of girls walk up to him, and they giggle as loud as they can staring at him. He looks up at the noise and stares at them. “Excuse me?” one of the girls says “Yes?” she extends her arm out “Do you mind taking a picture of us?” Jungkook grabs her phone and angles it. “One, two, three” he takes the picture. The girl reaches for her phone and pauses to look at him.
“Hey, are you free tonight?” she asked him
Watching the interaction between the two you roll your eyes. What you don’t notice is that Jungkook looks up at you and back down to the girl
“Uhm, no actually, I do have plans for tonight sorry.” He rejects her offers and hands her phone back to her.
She has a disappointed look on her face and a sad smile plastered on her face. “It’s okay, I hope you have a good rest of your day”. With that she walks away.
Now at the end of the day and the sun getting lower, you and Jungkook switched spots through half of it. Taking turns every so often. He would try to make small talk, but you always managed to find a way around it. He looks up at you and calls your name
“You wanna jump into the water real quick” he says as he watches you make your down from the booth.
“No thanks, I wasn’t planning on getting wet unless I needed to.”
“Oh c’mon just real fast. The weather is nice around this time” he begged
“Jungkook I sai-”
Before you can finish your sentence, your body is being carried over his shoulders. You throw soft punches at his back and yell at him.
“Jungkook put me down! I’m not playing with you right now!” you screamed in his ear.
He ignores you and laughs loudly. His feet meet the water, once he's deep enough into the ocean he plunges you till you're soaked.
Emerging from the water you pull your hands back over your hair. Jungkook stops and stares at you. Admiring your beauty, when you catch him staring, he doesn’t look away this time. This time he stares into your eyes. It’s that has to look away.
“What?” you said
“Nothing” he clears his throat and looks down at the water
“We should probably head back to the car. The sun is starting to set”
You nod quietly and make your way to the shore. After one last glance at Jungkook, you walk over your things.
The walk back to the car was silent. He offered to carry your bags for you. You had rejected his offers repeatedly, but he insisted on carrying them up the steep hill back up. The way back was anything but smooth. The road was bumpy which ended with you and Jungkook bumping arms after every bump, it was summer which meant humid air. Your skin is slick with sweat. Wishing you were back to the dorms so you could soak in the hot tub.
~
When everyone got back to the hotel Mr. Kwan let everyone roam freely. You decided to head upstairs to your room to relax before going to the backyard spot of the building. When you open the room, you’re met with Yunjin and Irene.
“God, the sun has me so exhausted I could crash right now.” you said as you lay on your bed, body spread into a star fish.
“I know, who knew the beach would be full of that much trash” Yunjin complained
“Atleast we get to switch off, so we feel as equally as drained” you told her
“Yeah, lifeguarding was so easy. All we did was sat there in the sun and waited for someone who needed help in the water” Irene added
“Well lucky you guys, I literally took laps around the whole beach and still managed to find a piece of trash in the place I was already in.” Yunjin rolled her eyes playfully
“Well if you guys aren’t tired, you wanna join me in the backyard area?”
“No, you guys go ahead. I think I’m just gonna crash after I clean myself up. My body’s gonna be so sore tomorrow” she complained
“Yeah, I was planning on walking into the city and look for more things we can do while were here” Irene said
Looks like it was just you tonight.
~
When you woke up from your nap you looked at the clock and it read 8:00 pm. It was much later than you anticipated it to be. You get up from your bed and walk over to the bathroom. Turning on the sink you splash some water onto your face to wake yourself up a little more. You walk over to your drawer and pick out one of the bikinis you have packed.
It was a simple black two piece with bows on both sides of the hip. Covering your body up with only a T-shirt you make your way downstairs with a towel in hand and slippers on your feet. You open the gate and walk past the pool area to get to the hot tub. Before you left you grabbed a small speaker you planned on bringing and placed it next to the table near you. Playing calm music, you sink down into the water and relax your muscles.
It’s not a few minutes later you hear the gate crack open. You open your eyes and your met with the sight of Jungkook. He hadn’t put a shirt on before coming down there. His abs were out for display, his tattoos pretty as ever in the moonlight. His biceps are so visible that you almost faint. He looks to see where the music was coming from and catches sight of you in your bikini. Shirt thrown over the table with the speaker close to you. He walks over to you.
“Hi” he says lowly he stands behind you and his arms are leaning against the edge of the hot tub. His face hovering over yours. Your breath hitches as you realize how close he is.
“Hi’ you say quietly.
He moves so he can climb into the pool with you. Jungkook sits on the opposite side of you and relaxes in the water as you did. After a beat of silence, he speaks up
“I haven’t properly talked to you since” he pauses
“Ever actually”
You scoff and turn your head to the side in disbelief
“Yeah, I wonder why”
“Do you really hate me that much? All of that happened years ago, why can’t you just let it go?”
“Jungkook you called me names and you made me miserable. Not having those top grades; I would be punished so harshly because I wasn’t smart enough for my parents. I still hate you to this day because you never realized how much hurt you put me through?! There were so many times I've overheard you talk so lowly about me. Jungkook we didn't even know each other!"
"So, to answer your question, yes, I do hate you. Stop trying to talk to me out of the blue and act like we're friends because we're not. Leave me alone" Before you can get up to leave you feel his grasp tight around your wrist.
"Hey, look, I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry I did all of that. But cut me some slack, I was failing and I finally got my shit together until you came in with your perfect grades and knocked me down. But like I just said this is all in the past. Can you please forget it?" he pleads
You pause for a moment, were you overreacting? Possibly. But you will never forget the cruel words he spoke about you. One last look over at him and you retreat back to your dorm.
~
It’s been a week since your last encounter with Jungkook. He hasn’t made any moves to try and talk to you. Your group was now doing trash pick-up around the beach. It was supposed to be hotter than the week before now that it’s getting later into the summer.
As you were walking around the beach to do your task you had a slight feeling of dizziness, but you decided to ignore it. You brushed it off as a headache due to skipping lunch and only having water. It was then that you realized that wasn’t the case because before you could lean back up from picking up a piece of trash you stumble back. Jungkook notices this and quickly runs over to you.
He stood behind you support you with his arm wrapped around your neck.
“Are you okay? You look pale, do you need water? Or I brought a few snacks in my bag before we left, do you want me to grab one for you?” he said quickly laying you down on the sand.
“Water is fine, thank you”
He walks over to his bag to give you his water bottle he drank from earlier. You quickly took a few gulps and retracted it from your lips. Jungkook looks down at you with a worried look.
“Look, I’m fine just give me a few minutes and I’ll be up good as new.”
“No, just stay here there isn’t that much left to be picked up. Stay in the shade until I come back. I won’t be too long” He walks away to finish your tasks with gloves over his hands also with a bag, and a trash scoop.
It’s minutes later that he’s back kneeling in front of you check how you were feeling.
“You don’t look so pale anymore. We should be done for today; the sun is already starting to set, and we should be heading back now.” he says as he looks at you.
He turns his back still in a kneeling position and you look at him confused.
“What are you doing?”
“Get on my back. You’re too tired to walk up the hill, I don’t want you passing out.”
“I’m not gonna pass out Jungkook. Stop being so dramatic” you say in an annoyed voice.
“Just get on my back” he demands.
You sigh and hop on his back like he asked. He had his bag swung around to the front of his body. He stands up and carries you like you weigh nothing. After reaching the top of the hill he sets you down and you thank him quietly. You both walk back to the car where everyone else is and drive back to the dorms.
~
As you and Jini were done putting on your face masks you hear and sudden knock on the door. When you open the door, you’re face to face with Jungkook. He looks up to see your bare face. It takes him a minute to get his words out
“My friends and I were gonna head out to get some drinks if you wanna join us”
You look at him with astonishment. Thinking back to your conversation from a week ago. Before you could decide against it Jini walks up to the door.
“Hey, Jungkook. Why are you over here so late? Shouldn’t you be in your dorm?” she asked
“Uh, yeah, I am but I was just asking if you guys wanted to come out with us tonight. Were just going out for drinks at this club I found not too far from here.”
“Oh sure! We’d love to go!” she says as she looks at you
You sigh and smile at her.
“Okay great come down whenever you're ready and meet us in the common area.” he says before walking away back into his room.
After you close the door, you walk over to the other girls and ask them if they wanted to go out with you.
“Oh yeah! Sure, we haven’t been out drinking in a while. And it’s nice to get out and away from the program and the dorms for a little bit.” Irene replied
“Yesss, I need to get out. I’ve been couped up in this building for far too long.”
Now with everyone’s agreement you all get dressed pretty for your night out. Grabbing a dress, you took out a SKIMS black dress that fitted you perfectly. You threw a cropped leather jacket with it and black heels. Your neck was decorated with a small chain, and you put your hoops on. The makeup look you went for was light. It consisted of eyeliner, mascara, and natural colored lipstick.
Once everyone was dressed you all headed downstairs to meet up with the guys. As you landed on the last step you look up at everyone. More specifically Jungkook. He had on a black jacket with black cargo pants. He also had chucky sneakers to go along with it. His ears were clad with multiple earrings, and you look down to his lip and see his lip piercing. He looked extremely good for tonight. He makes his way over to you.
“Are you guys ready?” he asked everyone, but his eyes stayed on you.
Yuno had ordered an Uber to drive to the club everyone jumped into the car and that left you sitting next to Yunjin. Jungkook was sitting by the window with Jini in between him and Eunwoo. Yuno and Irene had to order a seperate car because they wouldn’t fit into the car you were all in.
~
At the club there seemed to be a long line. Eunwoo knew a quicker way in and you followed behind him. You entered from the back way, where no one else could see you.
“Why don’t you guys go find a seat. We’ll get the drinks for you” Jungkook yelled over the music so you could hear better.
“Okay” you yelled back as you looked around for a big table.
The room was filled with strobing lights and heavy-based music. The dance floor was full of sweaty bodies. The air around you was humid "I feel so suffocated in here" you said aloud
" You wanna go outside for a minute" Jungkook came up beside you and placed a hand on your back.
"No, it's fine I'll get used to it" you smile at him.
The boys came back with your drinks and set them down in front of you. They had bought multiple shots and took them one by one.
Once you all had a decent amount of alcohol in your system you moved to the dance floor. Irene led everyone as they all followed behind. Jungkook was closest to you. He tried his hardest to keep his hands to himself, but you were making it difficult.
Your hips move to the beat of the song. He watched as you dance like you didn’t give a damn about anything. He smiled as he watched you in your own world. Jungkook starts to dance along with you, and you turn around and move with him. His hands now on your waist as you put your hands around his neck. His hands moved down to clasp around your lower back. He leans his head forward so it’s now resting against yours. You look up into his eyes and then down to his lips. You lean in closer, and then you're interrupted.
“You mind if I cut in?” a random man from the crowd asks
You now feel uncomfortable as you let go of him. He walks in front of you and stands protectively with one hand on your arm. Jungkook looks at the guy and his jaw clenches.
“Look man were just trying to relax and have fun. Leave us alone” he defends. You look down and see his hands clutched into a fist.
“I came out to have some fun too.” You turn your head towards the man
“And it looks like she’s getting a little bored” he laughs
“She’s fine, look if you don’t get the fuck out of here there gonna be a fucking problem” Jungkook yells.
The man starts to walk closer and extends his hands up to you. You clutch the back of Jungkook’s jacket tightly. He moves forward and swings at the man.
“What did I tell you. Get the hell out before I knock the shit out of you.” he yelled.
“Jungkook stop, let’s go” you grab his arm and try to pull him away.
Before you can move him away the man stands back up and tries to hit him before he can dodge it. He moves a little too slow and gets punched. He looks down to his hand and sees red cover his fingertips. Jungkook goes in for another swing and knocks him to the floor.
“Jungkook!! Stop it, just leave it alone so we can go” He looks up at you and turns away. You walk back to the table to collect your things so you can leave the club. You reminded yourself to text the others to let them know that you left. Jungkook sits on the curb, and you kneel in front of him. You pull out a tissue from your purse and put it up to his nose. After a beat of silence, you were the first to speak up.
“You know, I think I hate you a little less now” you say with a smile
He looks up at you and chuckles
“Thank you, for doing that. I don’t know what I would’ve done. And I’m sorry you got hit”
“Don’t mention it. As long as you’re okay, then I’m good” he says.
You smile to the floor and decide to order an uber so you could go back to the dorms
As you’re about to walk into your door you turn around and stop Jungkook before he could enter his room
“Jungkook, thank you again. I had fun tonight, minus the fight” you giggle
“I’m glad you did, goodnight” he smiles
“Goodnight Jungkook”
~
You’re back on lifeguard duty this week. It’s a bunch more calm than the first week of lifeguarding. Instead of sitting and switching spots for hours and not doing anything, you were able to roam around. As you were sitting on the chair you spoke up
“Hey, are you thirsty? I was gonna walk over to that hut to get something to drink” you point into the diretion of the stall.
“Nah, I’m good, thank you.”
Standing to walk away, Jungkook can’t stop thinking about that night as he watches you make your way. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way you had your arms around. And how you trusted him to protect you. How close your lips were before that guy interrupted. He shakes his head from his thoughts and thinks about something else.
When you walk up to the stall you order a lemonade. You pay the man and wait for your drink. Looking around to see if anybody else was around, you see a guy. He’s about your age and much taller than you. He notices you looking at him and you turn your head back to the bar. From the corner of your eye you see him make his way towards you.
“Hey” he said as he tries to catch your attention. You turn your head towards him and greet him back.
“Hi” you smile at him
“Are you around here? I’ve never seen you before”
“Ah no, I’m not, I’m here for a program I volunteered for. I’m a lifeguard.” you told him
“Oh really? That seems like fun, I’m Kai by the way”
You tell him your name “It may seem like fun, but really all I do is sit and watch the people enjoy their time as I bake in the sun.”
He laughs at that. He clears his throat and speaks again
“Um, my friends and I are playing volleyball further down the beach. If you want to you can join us?”
Before you could answer Jungkook comes behind you and puts a hand around your waist. You look down to his hand up to him. He’s wearing his sunglasses over his head.
“Actually we have to get back to our dorm after our shift. We’re a bit busy at the moment.” he says with a smile on his face.
Kai looks at him with a surprised expression on his face. He looks down to you, you aswell have a look of confusion plastered across your face. Kai looks down and chuckles.
“Alright, sorry for asking.” with that he walks away his ego a little bruised.
“What the hell are you doing?” you look up at Jungkook.
“I was getting thirsty. And you were taking forever so I wanted to check on you.” he shrugs.
“You didn’t need to check up on me. I was fine” you roll your eyes at him
“Plus he was cute. I was so close to getting his number”
After hearing you say that Jungkook’s jaw clenches. He absolutely hates that he feels this way right now. Deciding to brush it off you both make your way back to your spot. Getting closer to the end of your shift. You start to pack your things as the beach dies down.
~
Back at the dorms Mr. Kwan decided to gather everyone for dinner to celebrate your hard work for the past month. Once you and Jungkook make it back he helps you take your things out of the car and follows you up to your room.
When you turn your back to him he waits for you to unlock the door; “Thank you” you say to him. He hands you your bags and stops for a minute. The air is stuffy around you. You wait for him to speak up and say something. But his lips never move.
Before you know it, his face is leaned over yours, and your lips are over his.
The kiss is soft. Your heart is beating out of your chest, and you need to stop to catch your breath. Parting from his lips you look up into his eyes, noses touching; he takes a deep breath before walking away to his room, leaving you dazed and speechless; not knowing what to do you stand there and try to comprehend what had just happened.
Yunjin is on the other side of the door when you walk in. She looks up at you. “What happened?” she asked. You unintentionally ignore her and walk to the bathroom. Your face is burning with rosy cheeks. You replay the kiss in your head. It was completely out of the blue and caught you off guard. How were you supposed to act normal the next time you saw him. The dinner was in less than 3 hours. With all the extra time you decide to get ready and drift your mind elsewhere.
~
After everyone had finished getting ready. When you and Irene make it down the stairs Irene heads straight to Yuno. The night of the club you never heard her come back to the dorm. You suspected she had spent the night with him. She had her arms around his waist looking at him with hearts in her eyes.
Now by yourself you look around for any of your friends. You see Jungkook; he looks at you, but he doesn’t do anything. He meets you eye and looks away to his friend. The feeling you felt in your chest was confusion, anger, and a little hurt. How could he kiss you like that and act like it didn’t happened? Turning your body to find Yunjin; she walks down the stairs and her face lights up when she spots you.
“Okay, are you ever gonna tell me what the hell happened before you walked through our door or what. Your face was so red.” she asked curiously
“I’ll tell you later, I don’t want to think about it right now”
She looks at you with a worried look and shakes her head. Everyone gets into a car and the driver drives to the restaurant.
~
Once all the students were seated, Mr. Kwan raises his glass and clinks it with the back of a butter knife. “I would like to praise you all for working so hard for this past month” he says enthusiastically. He raises his voice an octave higher “With all your hard work I would like to give you the last 3 weeks of this month free, please relax, enjoy yourseleves, and have fun. You all earned it” he announces. A bunch of chattering is heard all around. “Now, please enjoy your dinners”
From across the room you see Jungkook laughing and chatting with his friends. Looking at him made you feel this sense of anger. Why are you mad at him when you hate his guts? Why are you did you feel that way when he had his soft lips over yours? Why were you feeling those emotions when you saw that girl flirt with him down at the beach? Why are you feeling all these things about him now?
Why
Why
Why?
All of these questions spiraling through your head like a mantra. Not taking the overthinking you walk out the resturaunt to get some fresh air. When you walk past his table he sees you walk to the exit. Jungkook excuse himself from his friends; he stands and walks into the direction you took.
He looks through the glass door and sees you pacing with your hands on your hip and a hand in your hair. You turn to the sound of the door opening. Jungkook stood there and walked closer to you. But, you take a step back.
“What was that” you ask him.
“What was what?” he has a confused look on his face
“Why are you playing dumb?! You’re just gonna act like you never kissed me and... and I wouldn’t do anything about it?” you exclaimed at him. Your emotions were all over the place. You had no idea how to handle them
He says your name quietly “It was just a stupid kiss, no big deal”
Suddenly, you felt a burning sensation in the back of your eyes. You didn’t know for sure how you felt. But you were sure there was something there.
“Okay” quietly
“I was just being stupid and thought something different but I guess I was wrong” you nod your head and make your way back into the resturaunt.
The tears dropping down onto your cheek made you feel pathetic. Pathetic for making you think that Jeon Jungkook had changed over the years. For thinking that Jeon Jungkook had real feelings for you. Before you walk back to the table you check yourself one last time to make sure your eyes weren’t puffy and your nose wasn’t red. Right now you weren’t in the mood for questions.
Sitting back down at your table and you see Jungkook come back from where you left him. He has his head down with a look of sadness on his face. He sits down next to his friends; less content than how he was before you left to go outside.
~
On the way back to the dorm Yunjin notices that your mood has dropped significantly since you came back into the resturaunt. When you finally settle into your dorm she asks you again, “Okay, for real this time, what the hell is up with you. You’ve been acting so different lately”
And that’s when you explain everything to her. From the kiss and to your conflicted feelings. In all honesty you don’t even know where you stand with Jungkook anymore. You’re between hating him and possibly having the fatest crush on him.
It’s then when it’s later into to the night you decide to call Niki. You missed talking to your best friend. It’d been a while since you last spoke to her.
After three rings she picks up the phone
“Hey babe! How’s the trip been so far? I haven’t spoke to you in so long is everything okay?” she speaks in a soft voice. That’s what you loved about her. She was there for you anytime of the day. You would be okay even if you hadn’t spoke to each other for days at a time. That's the type of friendship you had with her.
“Ugh Niki, I miss you so much. So much has happened and I need to tell you.”
“Oh no, what happened? Did something bad happen?! Did you get hurt?!” she says panicked.
“No no, I’m okay but something did happen.” you reassure her.
“Okay please tell me, you’re scaring me”
“Jungkook kissed me” the line is silent for a moment before it’s not.
“HE WHAT?” she yells into your ear
You have to pull the phone away because of how loud she was.
“He kissed me after one of shifts today. I confronted him about and I feel so stupid for thinking that he liked me because right after I asked him about it he said ‘it wasn’t a big deal’.” you tell her in a sullen tone.
“God is he dumb? Why would you kiss someone randomly and admit that it was nothing?” she sounded irritated.
“Exactly my thoughts. I’m so confused Niki one moment I don’t care about him and the next some girl is giggling next to him touching his arm and I feel so annoyed”
She sighs and calls your name calmly “I may be wrong but it sounds like you have feelings for him”
You pause and register what she just said. You? Had feelings for Jeon Jungkook? Everything is starting to come together in your head. You finally speak up
“Yeah, I think I do”
~
It’s been about a week since the dinner. You hadn’t seen Jungkook. The only few times you’d seen him was when you went downstairs to eat breakfast or when he left his room to go elsewhere. But tonight was different. With the free time you were given you spent it at the beach. You hadn’t gone swimming in the ocean for quite some time so you decided to put on a bikini, threw on some clothes you had laying in your drawer, and grabbed a towel from one of the cabinets in the hall.
You made your way down to the beach by yourself and brought your mini speaker with you. The playlist you had put on was a slow playlist. You watched the sun set while the song My Love is All Mine by Mitski played in the background. While the sun was still out you decided to take off your clothes and go into the water
From afar Jungkook spots you standing near the water; the waves are calm; he admires you from where he’s standing. You, completely unaware of his presence you dip your body into the water until it touches your waist. Your hair flowing in the soft wind. Behind you, you hear the water moving. When you turn your body to the sound; there he is. He’s standing with his shirt off arms out to see and his abs for show.
Completely in awe you snap out of it and turn back around.
“What do you want” you ask quietly.
“What? It’s a public beach. It’s not like you reserved this spot” he retorts back
“No, Jungkook. What do you want.” You hear him sigh. He takes a deep breath and finally says
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry that I kissed you so suddenly, I’m sorry I made you feel the way you did after I said that kiss was nothing, I’m sorry because that kiss made me feel so much.” he pleads. He places his arms on your waist and continues. “I’ve wanted to give you that kiss since I first saw you at the train station. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we bumped into each other at the café”
It had been several months since that incident.
You walked in on a cool spring day. The bell chimed at the top of the door as you made your way over to the counter. After you had made your order, you turned to walk over to a table. But before you can take a step you bump into something –or more something- you look up and see Jeon Jungkook. You hadn’t seen him since the beginning of sophomore year. He looks down at you with an irritated look; but when he sees your face his expression drops. You looked so cute with your double layers on; making you look so soft and hugable; your hair was up in a clip and your cheeks were rosy from the cold.
“Sorry” you had told him quickly and made your way over to your table. Jungkook was surprised it was you. You had grown into such a beautiful woman. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. From then on, he couldn’t get you to escape his mind.
“I heard from Yuno about this trip and figured you’d go, I thought this would be my chance to make things right between us. I’m so sorry I said all those things to you while we were growing up, I was stupid and let my ego get in the way. So, when I first saw you it’s like I couldn’t see anything else but you.” he confesses.
All of this new information being thrown at you, you don’t know what to do with it. You had thought for all those years and all this time the hate between you two was mutual. You couldn’t have been more wrong.
“I want you to understand my feelings for you. I want to try and make it w-” before he can even finish his sentence you pull him by his hair and connect your lips. He raises his eyebrows and sinks into the kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth. He places his hands under your jaw and his other on your waist. Without breaking the kiss, he picks you up; you wrap your legs around his waist. The sun has set by now and it’s starting to get cold. He let’s go of your lips and look into your eyes. You move your lips closer to his ear and whisper “You wanna go warm up somewhere else?”
Quickly, he drags you out of the water while you giggle into the air. He places you down and hurriedly picks your things up. He grabs your hand, and you make your way back to his dorm. His roommates are supposed to be out tonight; you had the whole room to yourselves.
~
Pushing you against the door he smacks his lips against yours. You sneak your hands under his shirt and feel his abs flex against your fingertips. You move to lift his shirt off his body. He kisses down your neck; he lifts your shirt over your head and your left with your bikini top and your shorts. He lifts you off the floor and manhandles you onto his bed. You lay on your back and look up at him. Your legs are spread with him standing between them. He glides his hand up your thighs and he drags your shorts down your leg.
You’re left with just your bikini on now. He kisses you on your inner thighs close to where you need him the most. Jungkook grabs the bow that ties your bikini together and undoes it. Your heat is exposed to the cold air. He kisses your hip getting closer to your pussy; his hot breath touches your lips, and you gasp quietly. Finally, he makes contact; he glides his tongue through your folds, and you make small sounds of pleasure. His tongue makes figure eights over your clit; he moves his hand under your thighs to pull you closer to his mouth. His strong grip has you breathless.
Jungkook squeezes your inner thigh and gives small kisses around your cunt. He dives back in and the only thing in the air is the sound of him slurping and licking up your slick. You moan his name out loud and place your hands in his hair.
“Jungkook” you moan out loud
“Say that again, baby. Let me hear you” he says
“Ugh, Jungkook please, please don’t stop.” you plead desperately
“Yeah, that’s it. Who’s making you feel good?”
“You! You are Jungkook!” you shout
You start to feel the pressure in your lower tummy. You tightly close your eyes, and you see stars. He pushes you through your orgasm and finally pulls away after you pull on his hair so he’s hovering over your face. You bring him down to kiss you. He slips his tongue in and kisses you softly. You can taste yourself on his lips. Jungkook pulls away and scans your face. Your fucked out gaze looking up at him. He places his hand over your cheek and stares at you.
“You’re so God damn beautiful. So pretty like the stars. I can look at you forever.” he says to you lowly. You look up into his boba eyes, you can see the galaxy in them. He looked so pretty up closely.
He leans in and kisses you next to your cheek. He kisses your neck and then, he pushes himself up. He’s on his knees in front of you. You can see his outline through his shorts. You go to sit up and place a hand over him. He looks down at you and you place soft pecks over his covered cock. He groans loudly; you then start to play with the waistband of his shorts; slowly you pull them. He’s left bare in front of you. You move your hand to stroke him. Feeling his prominent veins; you thumb at his throbbing tip and place soft kisses over it.
“Baby, what are you doing to me.” He looks down at you and strokes your hair.
“Can you take me in your mouth? Or am I too big for you” he teases
You laugh at that “I don’t know, why don’t we find out”
You like a stripe down his length and stop at his tip. Looking up into his eyes; his lips are parted and he breathless. His hand is placed on the back of your head. Finally, you take him into your mouth, starting slow. He moans and tilts his head back, his grip on your hair tightens. You bob your head back and forth, using your tongue and swirling it around his tip. Your hand moves to fondle his balls, and this makes his cock twitch. Hips moving to the rhythm of your mouth and his hand guiding you to his dick.
“Can I fuck your mouth baby?” You look up at him and nod.
“Tell him if I’m hurting you. Tap on my thigh if you want me to stop” With that he slams his cock to the back of your throat. You take deep breaths as you gag on him. Your nose hitting his pelvis he speeds up his thrusts.
“Fuck yeah, that’s it sweetheart. Doing so good for me” he praises you.
When you reach down to your pussy you can feel you’ve gotten wetter. He looks down to your where your hand was and pulls you away for a second
“Nuh uh, who said you could touch yourself? Only good girls get what they want if they behave” he reprimands
He pulls you back onto him and starts at the pace he was at before.
Before he can finish in your mouth, he pulls you away.
“Fuck I need to finish inside you. Can I do that, baby?” he asks you for reassurance
You nod up to him.
“I need you to say it, honey”
“Yes, please” you moan
“Turn around, ass up face down” he demands
He looks down between your ass and his cock. He then looks up between your shoulders. Your hair thrown over your shoulder and your top still on. Jungkook moves his hand along your back and unties what’s left of your bikini.
“Fuck” he says under his breath. Finally, he takes hold of his length and drags it along your folds. You whimper silently patiently waiting for him to enter you.
He strokes himself a few more times; you feel him enter you. Gasping loudly, he groans into your ear and moves at a slow pace.
“More, Jungkook, please” you beg
“Since you asked nicely” Suddenly he pounds into your hips. You can feel him in your stomach. His pace is rapid; hard.
“You’re so deep Jungkook, fuck!” you moan.
Repeating his name repeatedly like a song. You can feel his cock twitch inside of you. You can feel every vein that around him. Every thrust you feel them against your walls. He lifts your body until your back hits his chest. His hands over your tits squeezing. Rolling your nipples between his fingers. He kisses your neck, and he places his hand over your abdomen. “God, I can feel myself inside of you, baby” you whimper into his neck. And that’s when you finally snap. You tighten around him.
“God! Jungkook! You make me feel so good, baby” you cry.
With three final thrusts he finishes inside you. Breath heavy he slowly moves, milking himself in your tight cunt.
He places you down on his pillow and slowly removes himself from you. You whimper quietly from the loss of the feeling of him inside.
“I need to clean you up and you need to go pee” he says
Picking up his shirt that you threw across the room he wipes you down and you twitch from sensitivity. When he’s done, he looks over your face and giggles.
“Come on, honey. I’ll help you shower when you’re done.”
“Okay” you say softly.
~
After your shower you and Jungkook lay in his bed. He’s not expecting his roommates to comeback; they had gone out clubbing and he assumed they’d be out all night in someone else’s bed. Your head placed over Jungkook’s naked chest you draw shapes over his chest. Jungkook grabs your wrist and notices one of the bracelets you're wearing.  
“You never thanked me for this” he says holding your wrist still  
“What are you talking about? This old lady gave it to me for free a few weeks ago when we first got here” 
He chuckles at you “That was me, I paid for it and asked her to play a part. Apparently she played her part well because you had no idea.” he boops your nose. You scrunch your face; you look up at him in disbelief.  
“I can’t believe you do that, what if she talked to the wrong girl, huh?” you said amusingly 
“Then some random girl would’ve gotten a free bracelet” he shrugs.  
You laugh at him. “Well, thank you for this” you look up at him and peck his lips.  
He digs his face into your neck and mumbles a small “Of course”  
Then, you feel his lips press small kisses into the juncture of your neck, you start laughing. All of a sudden, he stops. He lifts his head so he’s looking at you.  
“What are we?” he asks  
Realizing you never really told him how you felt. Isn’t it obvious though?  
“I could ask you the same thing Jeon”  
Whispering your name, he says “I really like you; I want to make up for my behavior throughout the years I’ve known you. I feel so guilty because of the way I treated you. I’m sorry I ever said those mean things to you, baby” he wraps he arms around you; cuddling you. 
“I forgive you” you hug him around his broad shoulders. “I like you too, Jungkook. Can we forget all of that? I want us to focus on the future only now.”  
He nods at you and smiles. “Sooo, does this make you, my girlfriend?” he asks with a cheeky smile.  
Giggling at his silly smile you nod “Yeah, I guess so, boyfriend”  
He buries his into your neck again and sighs contently. It’s not long before you two are cuddling in the sheets and hes whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you drift off to sleep.  
~ 
The next morning, you wake up to the other side of the bed empty. The sun is shining brightly in your face. You look down to your body and see the shirt Jungkook must have put on you while you were sleeping last night. You get up from the bed and walk over to the bathroom; but you don’t register the already running water turning off. When you walk in you see Eunwoo naked walking out of the shower. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry” you cover your eyes and quickly walk out. Picking up clothes that were thrown across the room from the previous night you manage your way back to your own room.  
Thankfully, the girls are out doing their own thing. You walk to your own bathroom and clean yourself up a bit before walking downstairs to the kitchen. The air is filled with the smell of pancakes, eggs, and bacon. Turning the corner you see Jungkook in a fitted sports t-shirt, over the stove cooking.  
You walk up to him and wrap your arms around his torso.  
“Good morning” you say in a sleepy voice 
“Hi, sweetheart” he turns his body so he facing you now. He leans down to peck your lips. His nose brushing against yours. You smile at him.  
“How did you sleep last night?” Looking up at him with an amusing look 
“Well you put to sleep pretty damn good last night so I’d say a ten out of ten” you laugh as you get your coffee ready. He sneaks up behind you and puts his hands around your waist. 
“I did, huh?” he lowly says into your ear.  
He sways you side to side and digs his face into your neck.  
“I was thinking maybe we can go out today and we can hang out in the city. We haven’t been here in a while; I want to see if they changed anything.” 
This was Jungkook’s hometown. He basically knew everyone. When he finished cooking your breakfast you both sat together in comfortable silence and ate.  
Finishing up your meals, you volunteered to clean up the dishes, but he was persistent in doing them himself. After fighting for about ten minutes, you give up and walk upstairs to get ready for the day. The outfit you chose was perfect for the weather. Your makeup was simple, and your hair was casting down your shoulders. When you finish putting on your shoes you hear a knock on your door. 
Walking up to open it you see Jungkook wearing a big puffer jacket, white tank top, and light blue jeans. His hair slightly covers his eyes. The chain around his neck and his piercings does something to you. You look up at him and smile.  
“Hi” looking at him with stars in your eyes.  
You look so undeniably cute. With little bows in your hair and your soft cheeks looking at him. He looks down at you and leans in to peck you on the lips.  
“C’mon, let’s go”  
~ 
The weather today wasn’t as harsh as those other sunny bright days. It’s a bit colder than the last few weeks. It was a good thing you brought an extra jacket just in case. You cand Jungkook walk down the streets hand in hand. Looking around for the places you used to hang out at with your friends when you were still in grade school. 
When you found the –now small- playground you and Niki used to play at, you let go of Jungkook’s hand and ran to it.  
Gasping out loud you say “Oh god, it’s so much small than I remember. I haven’t been here in years.” amazed by how time flies by so quickly. Jungkook watches you with a fond smile as you reminisce on the old times. You sit down on the swings and gently swing your legs back and forth. Jungkook stands next to the swing as he watches you. The sun was shining on you and he looks at your eyes they’re glowing as you look down the sand with a smile on your face.  
He goes to stand in front of you and holds on to the chain and stops you from swinging. You look up at him when you see his shoes appear in front of you. His hands over yours and he leans in close to your face.  
His lips locking with yours in a soft kiss. He pulls back and he says “You’re so beautiful.” he places a hand on your cheek.  
He looks into your eyes and he makes a promise.  
Saying your name in a low voice he says “I promise you, I will to take care of you for as long as you let me. I promise I won’t hurt you. I promise to stay” 
You look up into his eyes with tears laying on your water line. Moving your head to lay on his forehead. 
Then, you pull him into a kiss.  
“I promise, I don’t hate you Jeon Jungkook” 
a/n: ahhh okay, i realllly hope you guys liked it, this idea came out of no where and I kinda made the plot up as I wrote, please show some support by reblogging, liking, commenting, and giving some feedback! I'd appreciate it so much
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redflagshipwriter ¡ 11 months ago
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Fast Car Chapter Two (of four)
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Was this guy for real? Jason nearly decided not to get in out of suspicion. Danny was one of the very few loose ends in his crime yesterday. He sort of figured that eventually Batman would find the driver he’d used to get a duffle bag of heads to the police station. He stalled. It had seemed like an acceptable risk, since he hadn’t shown the guy his face. The only information that the police should have been able to get was where he’d left and that he’d used one of his victim’s phones to call for a ride.
And yet Danny was waiting patiently at the curb for the Red Hood to get in. Wasn’t he scared?
He had been all over the news yesterday. Danny had to know.
‘Either he’s dumb as a box or he is one of the chillest people I’ve ever even heard of.’
Morbid curiosity got him into the car. Danny locked the door as soon as the door was shut– but it was clearly routine. He’d done that yesterday, right. Jason waited a moment before he remembered that Danny wasn’t going to pull out until he had his seatbelt on. He let out a laugh and buckled up. It was pretty cute, actually.
Now that he wasn’t so distracted, maybe he could make small talk. Danny pulled them out into the sparse early morning traffic with an expression of determined focus.
Jason cleared his throat. “You moved to Gotham recently?” he started with. Danny didn’t have the local speaking pattern.
Danny nodded. “For school,” he shared easily. “I’m in the sciences program at Gotham U’s south campus.”
…So he wasn’t the world’s biggest dummy. Jason sat there and contemplated how catastrophically chill a body would have to be to chit chat with a man who had killed like 20 people yesterday that he knew of. Why wasn’t Danny scared? What was his damage? 
‘There’s something really wrong with him,’ Jason thought, with no small bit of admiration. Way too late he commented, “That’s cool, man.”
“Thanks.” Danny seemed unbothered by his long delay in conversation. “You know, I had to go to that same police station this morning.”
Jason tensed. Was Danny making some kind of threat?
“They got a whole shitton of muffins and six quiches delivered,” Danny went on. He appeared to feel no sense of danger in the car.
‘Is he… Did he decide to inform on the police to me?’ Jason’s eye twitched. ‘I already knew that I’d have ruined their whole month but… This is kinda satisfying to hear, actually.’ He made a listening sound to prompt Danny to continue. He couldn't lie; he was intrigued.
“Yeah, they looked like total shit.” Danny was so blithe about it that it became surreal and hilarious. “Exhausted. But that’s not my business.” He crinkled up his nose. “Do you know what they tipped me for that?” He didn’t wait for Jason to go on. “Two dollars.” He made a big gesture with his left hand that took it off the steering wheel despite the fact they were mid turn. “That’s ridiculous! I drove halfway across town, waited for the place to open, carried an absurd amount up those stairs, and for two dollars.” He blew a disrespectful raspberry.
“Fuck the police,” Jason said sympathetically. 
Aight. He saw how it was. He mentally tabulated what was in his wallet and allocated a cool thirty dollars to Danny as a tip. For an informant, that was as cheap as bagged rice. Helluva value. He leaned back in the seat and it squeaked under his weight. “How’s Gotham been treating you?”
“Fine, fine,” Danny said absently. He switched lanes a little too abruptly. “Not that different from home, honestly. I don’t know why people are so dramatic about it.” He floored it to squeak through a yellow light.
Jason had the dawning suspicion that Danny had been on his best driving behavior yesterday. But- “Where is home?” It was more morbid curiosity. He kind of regretted that he was nearly to his stop. 
“Amity Park. Illinois.”
Jason winced. “My condolences.”
Danny laughed, high and sort of eerie now that Jason was really listening to it. It sent an  electric zing up his spine. “That’s what they always say.” He seemed to find it really funny. Way funnier than it should have been.
‘...What are the odds that this guy is one of the weird mutants they make in Amity?’ Jason resisted the urge to ask prying questions. Talia had told him to stay the fuck out of that area so that she didn’t have to rescue him from a government black site. It wasn’t his business and he didn’t have the luxury of the time to go and investigate every cute boy with a nice laugh who wanted to be an informant to the Red Hood.
It was with extreme regret that Jason recognized his stop coming up. He let out a sigh. The voice scramblers in his hood turned it to static. He watched the curb approach with disappointment. Danny made to pull in next to a dark shop. Jason glanced into the windows and caught the reflection of the last person he wanted to see. 
“Batmobile.” He sat up straight, alarmed. It was parked out of sight in an alley. Shit. Shit, of course Batman had tracked back the delivery driver that had brought him to the police building. Fuck. How was he going to get away on foot-
Danny jerked back into the street and hit the pedal to the floor. The engine made a scream of machine fear but holy hell did it accelerate. Jason yelled too and grabbed onto the door handle. He aimed wide eyes at Danny, uncomprehending. 
“Fuck Batman!” Danny yelled out his open window, and they were off.
Holy shit. Holy shit!
The batmobile turned on, the normally silent engine’s purr rearing up to a threatening growl as Bruce veered out onto the street in pursuit.
Danny took them down an alley and Jason sharply readjusted his assessment of Danny’s intelligence. “We can’t fit!” He yelled, trying to pull the brake. If they had to stop in the alley it was all over, Batman would block them off.
Danny slapped his hand away and barreled-
Jason blinked as they raced down the impossibly narrow alleyway. He bit his lip. He looked at the car again, recalculating.
No. No, it definitely didn’t fit. He leaned a little away from the window, extremely uncomfortable. He looked at just the right time to see the passenger mirror collide with a dumpster and slide through undeterred.
Ah. Alright, then. He made a “Fair enough” face and turned around to see that the batmobile was lifting up and doing some weird transformers bullshit to fit down the alleyway. They were gaining ground from Batman. “Sorry I tried to touch the controls,” Jason said, a bit late. He glanced down and realized that his hand stung where Danny had slapped it. He pulled it to his chest and rubbed at it, frowning slightly.
“No worries,” Danny said tersely. He hit the breaks and raked the wheel car to make a fucking pinpoint turn without slowing. Just like that, they were out of Batman’s direct line of sight. A solid inch of the inside of the car overlapped with a folding chair outside someone’s home.
Jason eyed Danny judgmentally.
“Wow, that was a close fit,” Danny said, extremely unconvincing. “We are lucky, huh.” He aimed the car at a wall and somehow ramped up. 
‘I think I might be sick.’
Jason decided that the best thing for him to do right now was to close his eyes and say nothing at all. If Danny wanted plausible deniability for his mutant powers, that was whatever. 
‘How did Batman know where I was going?’ He worked through the problem. ‘Did he hack Danny’s account? If not, someone sold me out.’
Just like that, Jason had a list of people to visit for the day. “D’you think you could drop me off at C street instead?” He felt the uncomfortable swooping sensation in his stomach that indicated they’d made some kind of move that should not exist off of a rollercoaster.
“Yeah, of course, sorry about this.” Danny sounded a little breathless. “Ah- don’t look.” He cackled.
…’He’s dodging Batman for his benefit, not mine,’ the penny dropped. Jason laughed out loud and then leaned forward to hold his head in his hands. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Danny was the perfect man. They drove for a while in silence before Jason managed to collect himself. “No worries,” he said through tears. “Hey, no sweat if it’s no, but can I get your number?”
Danny paused.
Oh, fuck. Jason cringed. “I'll leave mine and you can call me if you ever need me,” he corrected hastily. “No pressure.” He scribbled it on the back of a loose receipt in Danny's cupholder and left it, mortified but also glad he shot his shot.
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xshadowdelta ¡ 7 months ago
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FORMER MANAGER
PART 4: Like a tulip.
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Kazuha x Male Reader (4K length)
Your hands were gripping the steering wheel of the car tightly, you were still in disbelief at everything that was happening, as if some divinity up there was playing with you for fun, and its enjoyment involved seeing you suffer every fucking moment of the day.
The red light of the traffic light forced you to brake and stop the car for a few seconds. You looked out of the corner of your eye towards the passenger seat, there she was, sitting looking out the window while the fingers of her hands played between them, showing a clear sign of nervousness. Kazuha Nakamura had become, without foreseeing it, the biggest headache of your entire life.
It's not that you had gotten used to sexual encounters with your former Iz*One members, but after what had happened in the last few days, you wouldn't have been surprised if a few more had arisen or even were going to arise in the future, since they seemed to be competing for you or something, something you hadn't been able to figure out yet.
But this totally escaped logic and compromised you enormously, you had in your car an idol whom you had never had under your tutelage, whom you did not know at all, and who had made you an irrational request, to say the least. 
“Can you have sex with me the same way you have sex with Chaewon unnie?”
That phrase kept echoing inside your head. Despite your attempt to hide that 'professional opinion' session, it seemed that Kazuha had perfectly realized what you had done in that practice room.
You didn't even have time to make an excuse or a lie, you had been hunted in such an obvious way that denying it would only complicate this situation even more.
Before you could realize it and without even having accepted her request, you were already leaving the Hybe compound, but with more company than the one you entered with, thanking the gods that your company vehicle had completely opaque window glass.
Neither of you had spoken a single word during the journey, which made the atmosphere feel even more tense and heavier than it would normally be. You wanted to start a conversation or ask a question, but the words just wouldn't come out of your mouth.
“Turn right on that street.” She commented, pointing her finger in the right direction.
And this was another big problem: your destination place. You had really gotten into the car without a fixed direction in your mind. Should you take an idol to your house? Was that right? And what would happen if someone saw you on the street and treacherously took a photo? Could it be camouflaged as part of a television program? Was a hotel suitable? You didn't believe it, but if so, it must be one suitable for celebrities, something you couldn't afford.
You parked the car, following another signal from the girl, in one of the free spots and got out, going around it to reach the passenger door, doing a complete sweep of the area, and opening the door once there was not a single living being. in your range of vision.
Kazuha quickly left and, taking some keys out of her bag, opened the door of one of the buildings, giving you way and successfully completing the first checkpoint.
He called the elevator, and you both went up, still in pure silence. You looked at her through the elevator mirror automatically, she looked back at you through the mirror and blushed, she quickly looked away.
She left in terror when the elevator opened its doors again, yes, taking one of your hands, practically dragging you after her. Your nerves increased when you felt the softness of her hand, wasn't it crazy? Now you were behaving as if you were still a teenager going through puberty.
You entered the interior of one of the apartments, which looked large and spacious from the inside despite only seeing the hall for the moment. "Where are we?” You heard your own voice for the first time in a long time, wondering why she had brought you to that place.
“It's LE SSERAFIM's bedroom.” She answered, taking off her shoes.
Knowing where you were scared you to death, you were in unstable territory. Stepping into that apartment had to be the closest you're going to get to a war camp, with too many people who could come and go at any moment and catch you in the middle of the action.
“The rest of the members are very busy and won't come until the evening, and our staff doesn't usually barge in without warning.” It was certainly relaxing to know that, but still, your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest at any moment. Kazuha unexpectedly took your hand again and dragged you down the main hallway of the apartment, passing by the living room and the kitchen until you entered one of the bedrooms.
The bedroom itself was quite simple, some large beds pushed together, a small desk with a chair decorated with clothes and various junk on top, and a closet built into the wall. You diverted your gaze to the corners and blind spots of the room in search of possible cameras, it wouldn't be the first time that after recording one of those home realities they forget to remove them.
The girl was quick to turn on the light in the room and close the window despite it being broad daylight, seeking to create a more intimate and safe environment.
You turned around, looking around at the entire bedroom, paying special attention to the pile of clothes scattered on the desk chair. She noticed this and, embarrassed, ran there to put all those clothes in the closet in a disorderly manner.
“Sorry, Chaewon unnie and I were a little late this morning.” Great, so this bedroom also belonged to Chaewon.
“Kazuha-ssi, I think you've rushed into all this, I... we shouldn't be here. I'm flattered, really, but I don't think you're aware of what this means."
She walked towards you and took your hands in hers, looking into your eyes with that look that begged you.
“I've wanted to do this for a long time, but I didn't know how. I'm too shy to approach some other random guy and propose this kind of thing out of the blue.” You laughed inside yourself, what she was saying had nothing to do with the spontaneous request she made to you. “I wanted to wait for the right moment and the right person.” Her fingers caressed the palms of your hands.
“I'm definitely not that person.” The expression on your face became more serious now. "You are!” She snapped loudly, making you step back in surprise. “I mean, I know Chaewon unnie very well. She wouldn't have done anything like that with you if she didn't have complete trust and deep respect for you, and that's more than enough for me.”
“But that's not how it should work, you shouldn't do this with some random guy you don't know at all like me, it should be with someone you love, someone you love from the bottom of your heart.” “You sound like the protagonist of a kdrama.” A small smile now graced her face. “Look, it's not that I'm a virgin, nor an expert, but I'm enough of an adult to know that I can have sex without commitment with whoever I want.”
The truth is that she was not wrong, perhaps you had seen too much fiction lately, after all, the vast majority of humans today had sexual relations guided more by vice and lust than by love.
You still had time to run out of there, you knew that she had nothing against you, she would never tell what she knew, and she loved Chaewon too much to harm her dear unnie. This was never about blackmail, just a favor, no one was forcing you to do anything.
That's what you told yourself internally over and over again.
‘This is not right.’
'Why don't my legs react?'
'I have to get out of here as soon as possible.'
'Fuck, she's beautiful.' Wait, what?
You stared at her for the first time in all this time, indeed, she was pretty and beautiful to look at, like a flower blooming in a beautiful meadow surrounded by huge green trees and a bright sun.
She was also attractive, you could see how well trained her body was. Her legs looked toned, and the lower part of her abdomen that did not cover her shirt was better worked than yours. She had an aura of tenderness and sensuality around her that was difficult to find.
Suddenly, in a burst of bravery, Kazuha raised her hands to your face, holding your cheeks to give you a small kiss on the lips. You wanted to resist, you really did, but who knows if, in order not to hurt her, you reciprocated that kiss by taking her waist with your hands.
“Everything you say is true, but also believe me when I say I want you to fuck me, oppa." She whispered against your lips.
"Kazuha, you're asking too much of me." Your lips were now moving unconsciously over hers.
"I don't think so." She chuckled, bringing one of her hands to your bulging crotch, gently caressing that area of your pants. She stood on her tiptoes to bring her mouth closer to your ear. "Don't you want to know how flexible I can be?” That whisper hit you squarely. It would have been a K.O. if we were in a boxing match. Your skin crawled just thinking and imagining certain scenarios, and the bulge in your crotch only grew under the touch of her delicate hand.
You let out a sigh, you sounded defeated, and you actually were. How could you be so fucking weak? Why were you trapped in a spiral of sex with gorgeous girls with beautiful bodies? And why were you martyring yourself for it when anyone would sign with their own blood to take your place? You didn't have the answer to any of those questions.
“Lie on the bed.” Despite your obvious annoyed tone, Kazuha's smile did not fade but rather widened, and she followed your instructions.
Immediately the Japanese idol was lying on her back, with her legs dangling from the edge of the bed, undoing the button on her jeans and slowly lowering them to your delight.
You knelt on the floor right in front of the bed, between her legs, starting to touch her thighs and going down her legs at the same time as her pants were going down.
You noticed how her skin stood on end under your hands, it burned, and you verified it with your own lips when you leaned your head over Kazuha's body, spreading a few kisses on the part of her abdomen that the shirt did not cover.
Her toned abs contracted as she felt your lips on them, your hands joined hers on either side of her legs, finishing off her pants in a single pull.
Your kisses marked a downward path towards the girl's panties while your hands took the opposite route, going from her legs to her hips, moving upwards slowly caressing every centimeter of skin.
A new piece of clothing was recognized as the next enemy, as your hands fisted the hem of her shirt. She understood quickly, and with an agile and quick movement, she slid the garment over her head and threw it away, landing somewhere on the floor of the room.
You kissed her pussy over the fabric of her panties making her moan, and then your tongue began to create lines of saliva before starting to move as if it were a normal cunnilingus.
Even though the panties continued to act as a barrier between your tongue and her pussy, the caresses you provided were felt on her body in a remarkable way, proof of this were the moans that Kazuha expelled from her mouth.
Her pussy was getting wetter due to the excitement, starting to leak down her thighs and even going through her panties, as your tongue began to enjoy the taste of the girl's intimacy.
You sat up a little and jumped on the bed, being careful with her delicate body so as not to hurt her, remaining on top of her, and going directly to kiss and lick her neck as an attack.
Her moans became noticeable again, with an increase in volume and much closer to your ears. However, she was a fighter, and although she seemed to be completely under your control, she managed to take off your shirt and expose your torso, which she did not hesitate to touch and caress.
You ceased the attack on her neck, moving back a little, allowing her to kiss your bare skin, causing you to sigh occasionally. You crouched over her again, kissing her lips deeply, taking her cheeks in your hands.
“Condoms?” You asked the instant the kiss broke.
She pointed out the nightstand next to the bed, and you jumped out of the bed again to approach the designated piece of furniture, opening it and finding a box of condoms still sealed.
You were opening it as you walked back, placing yourself in the starting position, facing her between her legs. You looked up and could see that there was no longer a trace of her panties.
You smiled, finally opening the package of condoms, taking one between your fingers, and placing it on the mattress. You needed both hands free to finish undressing completely. 
Kazuha sat up slightly on the bed so she could look directly at your now-naked cock, opening her mouth shocked by its size and almost reflexively opening her legs wider, giving you a much better view of her wet and shiny entrance.
You placed one knee on the bed, bringing your penis closer to her vagina, one hand holding your dick firmly and the other gripping one of the young girl's pale thighs.
"Wait! The condom…OH!” Her words were interrupted by a violent moan.
She was right, you hadn't put on the condom yet, but you didn't need it for the idea you had in mind, which consisted of rubbing the folds of her pussy with your cock over and over again without actually inserting it inside.
That game seemed to take its toll on Kazuha, who was now trying to silence her sounds by putting both hands over her mouth and allowing you to play with her intimate area to your pleasure.
Your penis soon became well lubricated after being rubbed mercilessly by the wetness of the Japanese pussy, at which point you decided that it was now possible to start the real action.
Now you wrapped your penis in the latex of the condom to bring it closer to the female entrance again, this time with the intention of entering her. You looked one last time into Kazuha's eyes, waiting for one last step back that never came, quite the opposite in fact.
She placed her hands on her thighs, separating her legs as much as she could, leaving you amazed at her incredible flexibility and increasing your excitement as you witnessed that move.
The tip of your penis made contact with her vagina, making you both moan slightly, moans that increased as more inches entered her cavity.
As you expected, Kazuha's insides felt tight, although you had to admit that it was less than you had originally imagined, because the truth is that most of your cock entered without any problem. You gave her a few seconds for her insides to adjust to your size before you started moving.
You started to move slowly, moving in and out slowly and careful not to hurt her, but she seemed to be enjoying it.
“God, you're stretching me so much... It feels so good.”
That gave you the green light to increase the pace, your hips moved faster, introducing you deeper into her. At this point, her pussy was already able to swallow the entire length of your penis without problems.
Kazuha's moans quickly turned into pleas, letting her get carried away by excitement and asking you to go even further.
“AH! Please…more… AH…MORE!”
She raised one of her legs to your shoulder, leaving her foot at the height of your head, leaving the other still resting on the bed. That only deepened your attacks against her even more.
You wrapped your closest hand around the thigh of her leg that was hanging from you, and your other hand went behind her head, grabbing the back of her neck, bending over her, and moving at a hard and incessant pace.
Kazuha's intense moans were only stopped when your lips joined hers in a kiss, just as intense as the clash between your hips. Everything was so intense that tiredness immediately began to appear in you.
After a few more minutes of fun, you wanted to change positions, now lying on your back on the bed, motioning to the girl to sit on your lap with her back to you.
You kissed the back of her neck and her back as she got into position, turning her head for a moment and demanding another kiss on the lips that you didn't deny her.
She raised her body enough so that in one quick movement your cock entered deeply inside her again, causing a sensation of incredible pleasure in both of you.
The girl placed both hands on your thighs to begin jumping on your penis, again and again, without stopping and emitting sweet and erotic moans for each thrust that your cock gave her as it lowered her body.
You wrapped your arms around her waist and pulled her back, causing a small cry of surprise from her and causing her back to collide with your chest.
You once again had control of the situation, you once again imposed the rhythm of the penetrations to your liking and what was best for you.
From this position, you were once again able to attack Kazuha's neck at will, which for some reason had become one of your favorite regions of her body, and she seemed to love it too.
Your bodies were totally immersed in the heat of the moment, eager for each other's contact, roaring for sex, and sweating from the furious action, the temperature of the room had risen some degrees since you entered through the door.
Once again the idol raised her legs, surrounding them with her own arms, preventing them from falling, thus making your attacks clean and direct against her pussy, which you began to notice how it contracted, squeezing your cock against its walls, making you moan louder.
“Shit, Kazuha, your pussy...”
“Please don't stop now! I’m so close!”
Listening to the girl's request and with the aim of releasing yourselves sexually as soon as possible, you gave everything you had left, placing your hands on her butt and attacking her frantically, feeling how after some hard thrust you came brutally, filling the condom with your cum.
“AH! YES! OH GOD! AAAAAAAAAH!”
That liberating scream was followed by her body arching over yours, your hands quickly rising to her hips, pressing her against your body again, and leaving both of you gasping noticeably trying to recover from the intense orgasms.
Kazuha leaned her head back with her body resting on top of yours, trying to compose herself from the tremendous ecstasy you had made her feel. She turned her head to look into your eyes, just inches from your face.
“Now I can understand Chaewon unnie.” She murmured, offering you a soft smile, trying to hide her tired expression.
You, on the other hand, did not hide it at all, you continued searching for air almost desperately, and the fact of having her on top of you did not help, but the truth is that you were not going to complain about it.
“You are definitely very flexible.” You spoke, making her laugh softly, and then kissed her lips, passing your arms around her stomach area, surrounding and hugging her, lying there for a few minutes.
.
.
.
You left the group's apartment after making sure that Kazuha was in good condition. She said goodbye to you very happily, with her eyes giving off a special shine and giving you a small kiss on the cheek, making you both blush.
You drove back to your own house, a little rest wouldn't hurt to clarify all your ideas, but with a firm decision. You had to end your sexual encounters with idols immediately. That was obvious, but would you be able to cut it short? You assumed only the future would know for sure.
You entered your apartment, tired, extremely tired, but you still managed to find the energy to move your butt to the bathroom and get into the bathtub for a long half hour that left you almost as good as new.
You were now wearing your two-piece pajama with a shirt and pants, walking around the living room while drying your damp hair with a towel. You heard the sound of the doorbell, it seemed that the delivery man you had contacted had arrived to deliver your dinner. You put the towel aside, and with your hair still a little wet and messy that fell on your forehead, you approached the door.
You opened the door, but, to your surprise, the person on the other side was not who you expected. A young girl with black hair tied up in a bun, somewhat taller than average and with a slim but very elegant figure.
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That girl seemed very familiar to you, the fact that she was wearing sunglasses late at night made it a little more difficult for you to recognize her, but you quickly realized it.
“Wonyoung…”
The sudden sound of a slap echoed throughout the house, silencing you. Your left cheek turned a reddish color at the same time as a burning sensation began to sting. Your face was now looking to the side due to the unexpected slap that the young woman had given you.
You took a step back, trying to stabilize your body so as not to fall, and directed one of your hands to the affected area of your face. Your eyes were wide open, as was your mouth, you didn't know what was happening, unable to understand anything.
When you returned to this world, you looked towards the door again, finding yourself facing the wall of the hallway.
You ran out of your apartment, finding Wonyoung a few meters later walking towards the exit of the building.
"Hey! Jang Wonyoung! What the hell do you think..."
You grabbed her arm, applying some force, without excess, to make her turn towards you, but your words fell into the void when you glimpsed her red face and how some tears formed a path from her eyes, hidden behind those sunglasses until they ended up on her chin.
She didn't say anything, you could only hear her weak crying and sobs that penetrated your soul and stabbed directly into your heart.
Still confused, you loosened your grip on her arm, and with that she got rid of you, setting off on her way again, but this time you didn't follow her, you stayed there, absorbed, with no other possibility than to see her back moving further and further away.
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gantengpermanen ¡ 1 year ago
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youtube
Arduino UNO CD74HC4067 Demultiplexer 4 Way 4 Phases Traffic Lights Programming Part 2
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regressionschool ¡ 4 months ago
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LITTLE LAW & ORDER: A SECOND CHANCE THROUGH REGRESSION?
By Emily Dawson, Investigative Reporter
For years, the criminal justice system has struggled to balance punishment with rehabilitation. Now, a bold initiative led by Pampers Corporation is changing the landscape—one inmate at a time. The Pampers Rehabilitation Program (PRP) promises zero recidivism through an innovative approach: regression therapy. Rather than serving time in traditional cells, offenders are placed in structured environments where they are gently guided back to an earlier, simpler state of being—a state where responsibility is lifted, choices are simplified, and misbehavior is met with soft correction rather than harsh discipline.
The program has had mixed public reception, but for Hannah Davis, the mother of Molly, 21, the experience has been nothing short of bewildering.
"I thought it was a joke"
Molly’s troubles began with what should have been a minor traffic violation—a rolling stop at a red light. In the past, such an offense might have resulted in a ticket or a short license suspension, but under the city's new partnership with Pampers, young offenders can be offered an alternative: six weeks of correctional regression therapy.
“I thought it was a joke,” Hannah admits, shaking her head. “But the officer told me it was a proven method to reduce repeat offenses, and I wouldn’t have to worry about Molly getting into any more trouble.”
Molly, previously a bright and independent college student, has returned home different. No longer a self-sufficient young woman, she now wears thick pull-ups—a transitional protection garment recommended for those still learning the Pampers lifestyle.
“She’s not the same,” Hannah murmurs. “She talks in short, simple sentences. She cries if she doesn’t get her snack on time. And she doesn’t seem to care that she can’t use the bathroom on her own anymore.”
Molly herself is quiet during our conversation, lazily swinging her legs from the couch, her plush training pants crinkling beneath her oversized hoodie. When asked about her time in the Pampers Center, she only shrugs.
“It’s… easier now,” she says, fidgeting with a stuffed bunny.
Hannah exhales slowly, her fingers gripping the edge of her coffee cup. “I don’t know what they did to her,” she confesses. “I don’t understand how six weeks can undo twenty-one years of growing up.”
Yet, despite her concerns, she concedes that Molly no longer argues, worries, or makes reckless choices. And while she still struggles with her emotions, the “comfort fit” Pampers pull-ups she wears ensure that “small accidents” are never a problem.
“She’s calmer,” Hannah admits. “And I have to say, these pull-ups hold a surprising amount without leaks.”
A Happily Ever After for Some
For others, the Pampers Rehabilitation Program is nothing short of a blessing.
Rebecca Carter is a proud wife—but her husband, Toby, is nothing like the man she married two years ago. At 27, he now crawls instead of walks, gurgles instead of speaks, and wears thick, protective Pampers instead of using the toilet.
"It was more than just a ‘mistake,’" Rebecca sighs, crossing her arms. “Toby was reckless. He drove drunk, hit another car, and could have killed someone.” She shakes her head, the frustration still fresh. “He always thought he was untouchable—partying, spending our savings on stupid things, never taking responsibility for anything. And when he wasn’t being a mess, he was yelling at me over every little thing. I loved him, but I was exhausted.”
At first, she had been skeptical when the judge offered three months at Pampers Rehabilitation instead of jail time. But now, as she watches Toby giggle on the floor, happily stacking blocks with a pacifier bobbing between his lips, she knows it was the best decision ever made for him.
His once-arrogant, swaggering presence is completely gone. Instead, he crawls instead of walks, his ultra-thick Pampers crinkling with every little movement. His chubby fingers fumble with the toys, his face scrunching in concentration as he tries to balance one block on another.
“He doesn’t argue anymore,” Rebecca says with satisfaction, running her fingers through his hair. “No more late-night drinking, no more wasting money, no more screaming at me when things don’t go his way. Pampers took all that stress away, and now? He’s just my sweet, giggly little boy.”
Toby coos around his pacifier, oblivious to the conversation. He doesn’t seem to remember ever being an adult. And as far as Rebecca is concerned? That’s exactly how it should be.
When asked whether she misses her husband as an adult, Rebecca laughs.
“Oh, absolutely not,” she says. ���I have a perfect angel now. And I don’t have to worry about messy accidents either—these new ultra-thick Pampers are incredible. They keep him dry even after a full day of playtime!”
Science or Magic?
The question remains: how does Pampers achieve such profound transformations in such a short time?
Psychologists point to conditioning techniques, sensory-based therapy, and reinforcement strategies. Caregivers at the centers use a mix of soft discipline, scheduled routines, and emotional reassurance to encourage regression.
But some, like Hannah, remain skeptical. “There’s something more to it. The way they forget how to be adults so easily… I just don’t understand.”
Yet, for Rebecca and many others, understanding is not necessary. “It works,” she says simply. “And I’d never take this happiness away from my baby.”
Looking to the Future
Pampers Rehabilitation Centers continue to expand nationwide, with new facilities opening every month. Recidivism rates have plummeted among former inmates, and many families report a happier, more manageable home life after their loved ones return from the program.
While some critics question the long-term effects, one thing is clear: Pampers has revolutionized the justice system.
With advanced comfort-fit pull-ups for trainees, ultra-thick protection for full regressions, and a focus on emotional well-being, it’s easy to see why the Pampers lifestyle is becoming the future of rehabilitation.
Is it unconventional? Certainly. Is it effective? The numbers don’t lie. Is it here to stay? Absolutely.
(Sponsored in part by Pampers Corporation. Because no one is ever too old to be cared for.)
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eyelambspider ¡ 9 months ago
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𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐡.𝟐 — 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠
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Part One || Part Two
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Leaving the Cyberlife store is an... experience for the broken android. After the workforce and standing idle in the store for so long, you finally bring König home, where he learns what it would mean to be your companion. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.3 k 𝐚/𝐧 : sincerely, thank you all for the lovely comments and interactions on the first chapter ♡ (my android son is so cute ahgkgj-) 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : fluff, hurt/comfort(?), domestic fluff, slow burn?
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𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋. They had no programming to want. There were no lines of code that enabled them to dream. They were machines built to serve.
In theory, an android should not feel fear.
The WX-400, or KĂśnig, glanced down at where your hand met his. The synthetic skin clasping imperceptibly onto yours. So warm and soft... and so much smaller in his own.
It kept him grounded when you guided him onto the sleek floors of the store, his sensors coming alight with all the new input his body was receiving. From being stuck in a paralyzing stasis, to feeling the cool spring sun on his skin; the slight chill of the store in his mouth; seeing the detailed cracks embedded into the pavement of the sidewalk.
His body felt like it was short circuiting. Jolted to life too fast, even if you had only led him to the curb. That soft smile on your face when he looked for assurance, still holding onto him.
What would happen if he let go? It didn't feel right to think that way. He was sure the world would not stop spinning below his feet if he did.
"KĂśnig?"
Your voice made him snap out of it. Those stormy eyes of his hesitantly trailing up to meet yours.
"This is our ride," you tilted your head, gesturing to the polished self-driving car that sat on the corner of the street.
He didn't respond. Eyes flickering away, still holding onto your hand. It was a cute gesture. Maybe he just forgot to stop holding it? Or maybe the android didn't feel comfortable letting go without permission?
Hm...
You decided then: owning an android was hard.
The entire ride back to the house was a mix of stolen glances. Each entirely new to the other.
You, watching the way his soft eyes followed the people passing by on the street. Androids and humans alike. Watching, but never saying a word.
KĂśnig was a sight to behold, and the smile that crawled onto your lips was inevitable.
Such a large android. Tall and built with the purpose of lifting ten times that of the average human... moving so gently, and with a hesitance for the world you'd only ever seen in stray animals.
And occasionally, when he felt you shift to watch your own window or the red-green lights of traffic. He'd consider you from the corner of his eye. Unreadable, before you could catch him and his eyes snapped back forwards.
People and buildings passed by in a blur of lights. Shops and a park filled with trees. Androids always obediently trailing after the humans who owned them, unable to do much but smile and tend to the children or shopping bags. Task after task, demand after demand.
When the car stopped at a red light, his eyes landed on a small girl, her pink rain jacket covered in a light sprinkle of rain. Jumping in every puddle she could with a giggle. The young android next to her, a dark-skinned man with long hair, smiled and did the same with her. Each taking a turn splashing gently in a puddle, unaware of the rest of the world around them, only enjoying the remnants of the rain.
Something in that image, the adoring smile on the android's face as he watched the girl play in innocent bliss, it stirred something for a long while, even after the car began to roll away.
He didn't know where the two of you were going. The thought of 'home' having no real meaning to him.
Back at the sites, the company only had two trucks to house their android workers. Rows of three in each truck, filled with small metal compartments for the mechanical men to stand in idly until the next job. Under lock and chain, so nobody stole company property, with no light except the one that blinked from his LED...
Soon, the commercial buildings melted into a quaint suburban neighborhood. Run down houses, but clearly lived in, with warm lights filling their windows.
Many had been put out of work due to the rise of android labor. He had heard one of the site managers complaining about it often.
KĂśnig's eyes flickered over you for a moment again.
Did you work? Have a home or a family to go back to? People you lived with?
"We're here," you gestured sheepishly, unbuckling your seatbelt and climbing out of the car. Your hand finally slipping from his.
'Here' was a two story house with peeling paint and a handful of missing shingles. It looked like the surrounding houses. Puddles and mud around the sunken walkway from the rain, nothing but scrawny hedges growing yet.
KĂśnig followed suit, ducking his head low to climb out of the car unscathed, towering back to his full height. Maybe the tallest android model built, at an impressive six foot ten inches.
He noticed you staring and his eyes hit the ground.
He was just-an amazing looking android, and his height was only more impressive to you. It was really hard not to smile. An android...
"Come on," you waved for him to follow you.
The closer you both got, the more he could see the wear. The fogged windows, the flickering outside light. Up the wooden porch that creaked dangerously under his weight, to the solid front door. That looked new.
"Well, here it is, home," you shrugged, the front door swinging open for the two of you.
"I just moved in," you explain as the android stepped through the doorframe to join you (having to bow his head again), peered around curiously. "The house is a bit old, but I'm going to fix it up for us," you nodded, looking around at the expanse of cardboard boxes in the living room. So sure of yourself.
Us?
The circular LED on his temple flickered yellow, a sign of stress that disappeared as quickly as it came.
"Here," you held your hand out for him, producing a small silver key for him to take. "House key," you explained with a sort of bounce in your toes.
It was for him, he realized.
He tilted his head, taking it from your hand, cool fingers brushing against yours as he considered you. Again.
You looked really... How should he describe it? Happy? Excited?
And you were. You had a house. A beautiful house that just needed a bit of care put into it, and an android unlike any you'd ever seen to help you make it a home.
"Well, I'd show you around but there's not much," you scratched at your neck with a sigh. It was a big house, just empty so far, and for the amount of stuff you had brought... You'd need a lot more to make it homey like you intended when you purchased the house.
You led him down the hall, shoes tapping against the wooden floorboards, dust lining the floors, but the house actually looked pretty sturdy to him.
"There's the living room, connects to the kitchen," you listed off as you walked by, "Washroom, and the basement door." You finished, pointing off to the left until you made it to the end of the hall. Still peering ahead towards a back door. Also new, he noted.
"Up the stairs is my room and a couple of... well empty rooms," you shrugged.
You had a lot on your plate, granted. Your eyes skimming over the backyard with a sigh. If you wanted flowers this year, they'd have to be planted fast... with the rest of the house to do, how hard could it be?
You spun around and faced KĂśnig with a soft optimism, leading him back to the living room.
"Well, lets start with some of the bigger boxes," you nodded, the plan seeming to come together in your mind. "The movers did most of the heavy lifting, so I don't have to worry about pushing a mattress upstairs or moving all those dressers..."
It was true, there was a large cream colored couch already in the living room, along with a large white TV stand pushed against the wall.
It looked almost as big as you were, and the android found it a fitting comparison. Imagining you pushing that thing all by yourself just- didn't work in his mind.
KĂśnig followed your lead, starting with the box on top of the pile that trailed along the hallway. Each one labelled quickly in sharpie.
Photos, Decorations, Dishes, Cleaning Supplies, Towels. All stuff that looked like it was supposed to be downstairs.
KĂśnig decided though, to stick to the living room, carefully cutting open the taped up boxes with a precision that seemed impressive. Even manual. Carefully laying out photos and old picture frames you had decided were important.
There were a few that caught his eye. His slate colored irises lingering on your face as you smiled or laughed in a few of them. Surrounded by what he deduced were your closest friends or family members... all based on how happy you looked, or how you moved your hands to hold each person.
"You can leave the bigger ones aside KĂśnig."
He nearly jumped.
"I'll put them up later," you assured him.
He glanced over his shoulder, where you now sat on the floor, fiddling with some small box in your hand.
He looked back to the photo's, a bit more hesitant to touch them now before he set them back into the box and turned towards you. The circular LED on his temple fluttering a yellow.
"I could put them up for you," he offered quietly. Given a drill or nails for them, it wouldn't take that long. In fact, the tools might've even felt familiar in his hand.
The sound of his voice, soft but rich and deep made you smile so wide he thought he had said something out of line.
He shouldn't have questioned you, he realized the mistake. His deeply scarred hands imperceptibly clasping into loose fists at his sides.
"Thank you," you began, "You could do that after we paint the walls tomorrow," you nodded, glancing around at the dim room around the two of you. "I was thinking maybe a light green? Or maybe even a smoky color?" you thought aloud, clearly having been undecided on the matter.
The LED turned blue again. The tension in his body suddenly melting away as you thanked him.
"Do you have a good color in mind?" You asked him then, suddenly wondering if androids had opinions. Or more specifically, if KĂśnig did.
He shook his head quickly.
"No... favorite ones?"
And he shook his head again, his eyes fluttering downward. Was he... supposed to have one?
You only offered another soft smile, figuring as much. "We'll both come up with something," you assured quietly. Those soft eyes of yours trailing back up to him as you finally undid the box in your lap, pulling out a carefully wrapped vase. The beautiful glossy ceramic glinting in the fading light from the windows. Holding it up for him to take.
"It's going to be easier with you around," you joked softly, but it seemed true. The depth of your words had a faith in him that felt... unfamiliar.
He took the vase gently from your hands, his eyes flickering around as if he meant to say something, before he quietly turned and put it down onto a small table.
He returned to doing as you instructed, placing all of the big things into the room, leaving the walls bare for now.
The rest of the hours went by like that, you occasionally stopping to ask him something that seemed profound to his android brain.
Why would you want to know if he had a favorite animal? Or if he liked music?
What use could he have for preferences like that?
But he always answer politely, if not curtly, until the living room at least had the lights and the TV connected.
You sat down onto the couch with a huff, taking a moment to relax after the long day you'd had.
In truth, buying and owning an android never really seemed to have priority. This house did.
You glanced over at KĂśnig, who was still working away quietly. Folding empty cardboard boxes up neatly and setting them aside for recycling.
"KĂśnig."
He stopped when you addressed him, turning his attention back to you before he could grab another box and continue. Waiting for another command.
But, he was working too hard.
You patted the spot on the couch next to you.
And when he didn't move or seem to understand the gesture, your face lit up in amusement. "Come sit, relax for a bit," you trailed off. He was an android, sure, but it didn't mean... well that he was a machine.
The thought made your chest feel heavy suddenly. It was easy, with how human-like they looked, to forget that they weren't human.
The large android did as you said and sat down. The cushions dipping beneath him and making you lean that way with a small laugh.
He was so rigid, even for an android. Sitting up straight, scarred hands on his knees, not even leaning against the back of the couch. Unsure really what to do without someone's input.
'Relax?' Did he really know how to?
KĂśnig watched you from the corner of his eye again as you flicked on the TV. Your feet pulled up, sinking comfortably into the cushions. Your knees almost brushing his.
It reminded him of the store, only a few hours earlier.
How warm you were next to him, and how that smile lingered on your lips as you watched the TV tiredly.
The moment you turned to catch his gaze, he straightened again, eyes forward, pretending to watch the screen. His LED blinking that sunny yellow.
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𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭. ♡
@riotakire @jonathansmarbles @peter-the-pan @distinguishedprincesstrash @sleepyisoffline
@asteria33 @timetothirst @sleeplessskeleton @lady-boketto @mionacaped
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shadyfestivalperfection ¡ 2 months ago
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Tiny Sorceress~Oneshot
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Summery: Bucky and Sam take care of Y/n who accidentally turned herself into an eight month old baby.
Characters: Bucky Barnes x Sorceress!Girlfriend!Reader
||Master List||
“—And I’m just saying,” Sam Wilson said, gesturing wildly with a half-eaten slice of pizza, “if Redwing had emotions, he would definitely like me better than you.”
Bucky Barnes didn’t even look up from his spot on the couch. He was stretched out like a very grumpy, very tired cat, his metal arm behind his head and a bowl of popcorn balanced on his chest.
“He doesn’t like you,” Bucky replied lazily. “He’s a drone. He doesn’t like anyone.”
“You’re just jealous because he listens to me.”
“He listens to programming. Calm down, Wilson.”
Sam scoffed and shoved the rest of the pizza in his mouth, pointing an accusatory finger at Bucky. “That’s exactly what someone would say if they lost an argument to a bird.”
Bucky gave him a slow blink. “You lost an argument to a coffee machine once. Let’s not throw stones.”
“That machine gave me decaf, Barnes. That wasn’t a loss—it was sabotage.”
“Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
The two men settled into a lull, the kind that came with an entire day off. Y/n, Bucky’s girlfriend and full-time sorceress-in-training (technically more powerful than she liked to admit), had holed herself up in her little mystical lab earlier that morning with a book bigger than her head and an energy drink labeled “MANA-ZONE.”
Bucky hadn’t seen her since.
He assumed she was fine. He figured that if anything went wrong, the walls would probably shake—or something would explode. That was usually how magical accidents started.
He’d been dating Y/n long enough to know when to worry and when to give her space.
Sam was halfway through a rant about superhero tax breaks when Bucky’s phone vibrated on the coffee table.
Without thinking, he grabbed it and answered.
“Barnes,” said the clipped voice on the other end.
Bucky sat up slowly, recognizing the speaker immediately. “Strange?”
“Get to the Sanctum. Now.”
Bucky was already on his feet. “What happened? Is it Y/n?”
“She’s—well—yes. But I can’t explain over the phone. Just hurry. It’s… urgent.”
And then the line went dead.
Bucky didn’t think. He didn’t breathe.
He just grabbed his keys.
___
“You didn’t even tell me what was going on!” Sam shouted from the passenger seat as Bucky ran a red light in a stolen-looking SUV.
“I didn’t have time!” Bucky barked back. “He said it was Y/n!”
“And that means we break traffic laws?!”
“If she’s hurt, yes!”
Sam threw up his hands. “Damn. You are whipped.”
Bucky didn’t deny it.
When they skidded to a stop outside the Sanctum Sanctorum, Bucky barely had time to knock before the doors flew open.
Doctor Stephen Strange stood there looking like someone had just thrown him into a toddler gymnastics class.
“Thank God,” he muttered, stepping aside to let them in. “We’ve had a situation.”
“What kind of situation?” Bucky demanded, heart pounding. “Where is she? Is she okay? Is she hurt—”
“Technically? No. She’s… uh… quite healthy.” Strange rubbed a hand down his face and gestured toward the foyer.
That’s when Bucky heard it.
A soft little giggle.
A happy, high-pitched squeal.
He turned the corner—
—and nearly dropped dead.
Sitting in the middle of a ring of softly glowing runes, chewing on the corner of her own oversized sleeve, was a plump, eight-month-old baby.
She had Y/n’s hair.
She had Y/n’s bright eyes.
And she looked up at Bucky and lit up like a damn firework.
“BAH!” she squealed, arms outstretched. “Buh-buh-buh!”
Bucky stared.
Then blinked.
Then slowly turned back to Strange.
“What. The. Hell.”
Strange sighed. “She was experimenting with temporal regression spells. Apparently, she got the incantation slightly… wrong.”
“Slightly?!”
“I didn’t say she was good at math. Look, the spell is temporary. She should return to normal in 48 hours.”
“FORTY-EIGHT?!”
“I said it was temporary.”
Bucky turned back toward the giggling baby. Y/n had rolled over and was attempting to crawl toward him like a very determined muffin.
He dropped to his knees, completely at a loss. “Y/n? That’s you?”
She stuck her whole fist in her mouth and blinked up at him.
Sam peered over Bucky’s shoulder.
“Well,” he said slowly. “She’s got your eyes. Sorry, I mean—your girlfriend’s eyes. In a… baby. Body.”
Bucky turned around with the most betrayed expression he’d ever worn.
“Don’t help.”
___
Ten minutes later, the Sanctum had successfully unloaded its smallest magical disaster into Bucky’s arms, along with a diaper bag that seemed to horrifyingly already exist for her size.
“Did she conjure that too?” Sam asked, looking at the pink and silver bag with a grimace.
“She’s a planner,” Bucky muttered, adjusting the tiny, squeaky girl now happily playing with the zipper on his jacket.
Strange waved them out the door. “She can’t cast anything like this—her magical core’s dormant while the regression holds. So no hexes, no portals, no sudden dragon appearances. You’ll be fine.”
“And what do we do if she—” Bucky paused. “Needs something?”
“Figure it out. You’re adults.”
“You’re the wizard!”
“I’m not a babysitter.”
The door shut in their faces.
Sam let out a low whistle.
“Well. This’ll be fun.”
Bucky looked down at the bundle in his arms.
Y/n blew a spit bubble.
___
Back at the apartment, chaos erupted in three parts:
1. The Diaper Disaster.
“This isn’t fair,” Bucky muttered, holding up a packet of wipes like it was a bomb. “She’s supposed to be this all-powerful sorceress, and I’m stuck doing damage control on her butt.”
“You do realize she pooped glitter, right?” Sam said, squinting into the trash can. “That’s definitely not normal baby poop.”
“She ate magic.”
“Do we call Strange again?”
“I’m not calling that smug bastard to talk about her glitter poop.”
“Then you’re on your own, Snow White.”
“Traitor.”
2. The Feeding Fiasco.
“I don’t know how much to give her!” Bucky hissed.
“She’s a baby. Just give her the bottle and let her decide!”
“She might get full!”
“Or she might turn us into frogs if she’s hungry. I say risk it.”
Bucky cautiously handed the bottle over. Y/n grabbed it with both tiny fists and latched on like a starved gremlin.
Bucky melted.
Sam took a photo.
3. The Great Escape.
“Where’d she go?!”
“She was just there!”
“I told you to baby-proof the couch!”
“She crawled like lightning!”
“WHY IS SHE IN THE FRIDGE?!”
___
By midnight, both men were exhausted.
Bucky was slumped on the floor, his metal arm cradling a sleeping baby Y/n curled up on his chest like a warm, wiggly blanket.
Sam was on the couch, texting someone a photo of Bucky snoring with a bottle of formula in his lap.
“I gotta admit,” Sam said softly, “she’s kinda cute like this.”
Bucky grunted.
“Barnes?”
“Mm?”
“You ever think about…”
“What?”
“You know. The future.”
Bucky looked down at the tiny sorceress nuzzled into his shirt.
“…Yeah,” he murmured. “I do.”
___
Bucky woke to the gentle but persistent thwack of something soft smacking his face.
Thwack.
Thwack.
Thwack.
He blinked awake to find a plush teddy bear levitating a foot above his head—slowly and repeatedly bouncing off his forehead.
“Oh no,” he groaned, sitting up on the couch.
Across the living room, Baby Y/n was standing—standing—in her playpen, hands raised like a conductor mid-symphony, face scrunched with concentration.
The teddy bear rotated in the air, sparked with gold runes, then zoomed straight into Sam’s head on the opposite chair.
“OW—”
“Morning,” Bucky muttered.
Sam sat up, bleary-eyed and pillow-faced. “Is that bear flying?”
“Yep.”
“She’s not supposed to have magic in baby form!”
Bucky shrugged and stumbled toward the playpen. “Guess she’s advanced.”
Y/n giggled and, without warning, launched the teddy across the room like a missile.
Sam yelped and dove for cover.
“Oh yeah,” he muttered. “She’s gonna be a great teenager.”
___
“Why does she have fangs?” Sam asked an hour later, peering nervously into Y/n’s open mouth as she gnawed on a rubber duck.
“She’s teething,” Bucky replied, eyes wide. “But, uh… sorceress teething. With… magically enhanced baby teeth.”
“Those are tiny daggers, man!”
“Don’t let her near your phone.”
“She already bit through a bottle nipple!”
“Yeah. She’s powerful.”
Y/n made a guttural, adorable war cry and tossed the rubber duck at Sam’s head.
They ducked (no pun intended).
“Okay,” Sam said, clapping his hands. “New rule: Only plush objects within biting range. And someone hide my socks. She has a taste for cotton.”
“She’s chewed through three binkies already.”
“Let me guess. You bought normal ones.”
“…Yes?”
Sam stood dramatically. “This calls for reinforcements.”
Bucky blinked. “Are you going to Target?”
“I’m going to Target.”
___
Sam returned 45 minutes later with:
1 pack of “Extreme Comfort Binkies – Sorcerer-Grade, BPA-Free”
2 baby spellproof onesies (“They’re literally baby armor. Why do these exist?”)
A pacifier clip shaped like a magic wand
And a bottle of baby-safe calming potion from an underground mystic apothecary.
Bucky stared at the haul. “You fought a wizard for these, didn’t you?”
“I bargained,” Sam said, proudly. “Also, the cashier may now owe me a favor in the next timeline.”
“You scare me sometimes.”
Sam handed Y/n the new binky.
She examined it with her tiny, judgmental eyes… and finally accepted it with a grunt of approval.
Bucky almost cried with relief.
___
By noon, the calm had broken.
“Is she… burping sparkles?” Sam asked, eyes wide.
Y/n sat on the floor in her padded onesie, hiccupping clouds of glittery mist.
“Either that or she swallowed a disco ball,” Bucky said, crouching in front of her.
She hiccuped again. A miniature lightning bolt zapped from her mouth to the TV remote, which exploded into pieces.
“…That’s new.”
Sam slapped a post-it to the wall. “Day Two: Baby now a tiny, sparkly time bomb.”
“She’s not dangerous.”
Another hiccup lit Bucky’s shirt on fire.
“…She’s slightly dangerous.”
Y/n squealed with joy.
___
“Okay,” Bucky said, staring at the baby bathtub like it had just insulted him. “This cannot be that hard.”
Y/n, now slightly grubby from her glittery magic burps, clapped her tiny hands.
Sam watched from the doorway. “You’ve fought aliens, Bucky. You got this.”
“Right. Okay. Soap. Water. No drowning. I can do this.”
He lowered her gently into the warm water.
Y/n immediately splashed so hard Bucky looked like he’d been hit by a water cannon.
“Alright, alright—gentle, sweetheart!”
She laughed and kicked, casting tiny bubbles into the air that somehow played music.
“Is that jazz?” Sam asked, peeking in.
“She enchanted the water!” Bucky groaned.
“She’s literally throwing a bath party.”
Y/n raised her arms dramatically. A stream of bubbles rose up in a perfect glowing arch… and burst in the shape of a middle finger.
Bucky and Sam stared.
“Okay, no more late-night reality shows for you,” Sam muttered.
___
7:00 PM.
Y/n had refused three storybooks, demanded her teddy bear “floaty,” and summoned six stuffed animals into a wiggling orbit above her crib.
Sam watched, exhausted, as the plush toys rotated like a cuddly solar system.
“She’s… going to sleep like this?” he asked.
Bucky, equally tired, nodded. “She won’t rest unless the bear is in geosynchronous orbit.”
“I didn’t even know babies knew that word.”
“She doesn’t. She feels it.”
They finally got her to sleep, surrounded by stuffed animals glowing faintly with magical energy.
“Okay,” Sam whispered, collapsing onto the couch. “She’s asleep. You can breathe now.”
Bucky exhaled, then muttered:
“She’s gonna be the death of me when she’s older.”
Sam smirked. “Oh, you’re in this deep, man.”
“I think I love her more now than I did when she was full-sized.”
Sam chuckled, cracking open a soda. “You say that now. Just wait till she’s big enough to cast spells again.”
“She already flipped me off with bubbles.”
They both groaned.
___
The door knocked at exactly 8:00 AM the next day.
Bucky opened it, bleary-eyed, holding a sippy cup in one hand and a plush bear in the other.
Doctor Strange raised an eyebrow.
“Rough night?”
“She turned my toaster into a swan.”
“Ah. She’s accelerating. Good news: the spell will wear off in about an hour.”
“Thank God.”
Strange stepped in, checked on baby Y/n (who was busy biting the corner of Sam’s hoodie), and nodded. “When she wakes, she’ll be back to normal.”
Bucky looked at her peacefully sleeping form.
“Good,” he said softly.
“…But I think I’ll miss her.”
___
Y/n woke up groggy, limbs heavy, cheek squished against something soft. A second later, she sat bolt upright.
“Why do I taste rubber duck!?”
Her voice sounded normal. Her arms were long again. Her head no longer fit in a mixing bowl.
She blinked.
She was on Bucky’s couch, wrapped in a comforter with her hair an actual bird’s nest. There was glitter on her hands, her shirt was a child-sized “Future Sorceress” tee stretched to its absolute limits, and a teddy bear with burn marks sat staring at her like it had seen war.
“Oh, gods,” she groaned. “What did I do?”
From the kitchen, a pan clattered.
“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Sam called, grinning.
Y/n’s eyes widened. “Oh no. Not Sam. Please not Sam—”
Then Bucky appeared from the hallway, tousled, tired, and holding a baby bottle filled with orange juice.
They stared at each other.
Then Bucky smiled.
And promptly dropped the bottle.
Ten minutes later, Y/n was fully awake and fully mortified. She sat curled up on the couch in Bucky’s hoodie while the guys recounted the last 48 hours like war veterans.
“You tried to fly a teddy bear.”
“You bit through three pacifiers.”
“You turned our toaster into a swan.”
“You flipped me off with a bubble.” Sam added with reverence.
Y/n buried her face in her hands. “I want to disappear.”
Bucky was grinning ear to ear. “You were adorable. And terrifying.”
Sam nodded. “A menace in footie pajamas.”
“Why do I remember everything?” she moaned.
“Strange said the spell was a regression, not a full mental wipe. Guess it was more like… toddler with a genius IQ.”
“I bit you.”
Bucky held up his arm. “You left tiny teeth marks on my metal arm. I’m keeping them.”
Y/n groaned again.
Sam looked thoughtful. “You also enchanted the baby monitor to scream every time I said the word ‘pants.’”
“…What?”
___
After a long shower (which was somehow still glittery), Y/n stepped into the kitchen to find Bucky cleaning up melted pacifiers and one very suspicious duck.
She wrapped her arms around him from behind.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “You didn’t sign up for magical baby duty.”
He turned, pulling her into a proper hug.
“I’d do it again.”
“You literally looked like a man on the edge.”
“Yeah. And I still liked every second of it.”
Y/n blinked up at him.
“…Even the part where I spit glitter on your face?”
He smirked. “Especially that part.”
They kissed—gently, sweetly, like they hadn’t seen each other in years.
From the living room, Sam yelled, “STOP KISSING AND FIX MY SWEATER, GREMLIN!”
Y/n sighed and walked out. “Did I bite that too?”
Sam pointed to the hoodie sleeve. “You gnawed through it like a tiny sorceress beaver.”
Y/n winced. “Okay, I deserve that.”
___
By noon, things had finally returned to normal.
Y/n conjured fresh pancakes to make up for the chaos. Bucky sat beside her, trying to brush glitter out of her hair.
Sam scrolled through photos on his phone.
“Okay, okay,” he said suddenly. “Real talk. Can I keep one?”
Y/n looked horrified. “Of me? As a baby??”
“You had chubby cheeks and your magic made the apples levitate. It was hilarious.”
She covered her face. “I will hex your eyebrows off.”
“I’m already bald. Try me.”
Bucky snorted.
Y/n turned to Bucky and whispered, “You didn’t take any too, did you?”
He gave her the most guilty look.
“…Bucky.”
“I just—just one! For my phone lock screen. You were so tiny.”
Y/n narrowed her eyes.
“…Let me see.”
He showed her the photo. Baby Y/n, mid-squeal, teddy bear levitating behind her, cheeks round as moons and eyes wide with wonder.
She paused.
“…Okay. That’s kinda cute.”
Bucky beamed. “I knew you’d say that.”
___
That evening, Strange showed up to check in.
He eyed Y/n with wariness, then sniffed the air. “Residual magic. Your baby aura’s still in the walls.”
“I’m working on it,” she grumbled.
“You also triggered a latent enchantment. The teddy bear is now sentient.”
Y/n gasped. “What?!”
A deep growly voice said from the couch: “I AM MR. CUDDLES. I SEEK VENGEANCE.”
Everyone screamed.
Strange calmly trapped the bear in a glowing bubble.
“I’ll be taking that,” he said, levitating it toward the portal. “Also—no more regression spells without supervision.”
Y/n scowled. “It was accidental!”
“Still.”
As he stepped into the portal, he glanced at Bucky.
“Good job surviving. Most men would’ve fled.”
Then he vanished.
Sam muttered, “Next time he pulls that, I’m hiding in Wakanda.”
___
Later that night, Bucky and Y/n curled up in bed.
She rested her head on his chest, still slightly embarrassed.
“Were you scared?” she asked softly. “When Strange called you.”
He nodded. “Terrified. Thought you were dying.”
She pressed a kiss to his chest.
“But when I got there and saw you—eight months old, mad about your footie pajamas—I just… couldn’t stop laughing.”“I was mad about the ducks.”
“You bit him.”She groaned again.“But,” Bucky added, tilting her chin up, “even in baby form… I still loved you.”Her heart melted.
“I love you too, Barnes. Even when you let me chew Sam’s hoodie.”
“Honestly, that part was kind of a highlight.”They laughed, tangled in each other, and drifted off to sleep—teddy bears safely locked in magical quarantine.
-the end
163 notes ¡ View notes
fushigogo ¡ 2 months ago
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† yo no te voy a decir que me lo gané con mi trabajo honrado. yo me lo gané a base de cogidas y no me da pena decirlo, pueblo — nanami kento
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synopsis: despite people don’t have the best perception about you, since rumors’ been spreading throughout your career, fucking president kento has its benefits and it’s not your fault people can’t fuck their way up to the top.
content warning: reporter reader x president kento, reader says dumb shit you cannot even believe kento’s fucking her, but let’s pretend it makes sense, slutshaming, manhandling, degradation, spanking.
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“well, recent rumors have been said about me and i want to use our program to clarify some stuff.” the papers in which your most juicy gossip was written down, now remain on the table. your forced smile showed your neat teeth, almost ready to rant. your co-workers, geto and satoru, were paying full attention of what you had to say. “there’s been recent rumors about how i got my house in the hamptons and i need to clarify that i bought it with the sweat and hard work this program has given me!”
“exactly,” geto agreed.
“yeah, if you could buy that house it was thanks to your hard work.” satoru added.
“it’s just not my fault you couldn’t get the same things as me. i’ve never stolen from anyone. i’m not ashamed to admit that if right now, my dear viewers, that if i’m where i am right now, was thanks to all the dicks i had to suck.” you stated proudly and geto and satoru agreed with every word you said.
after having talked shit about famous people, passing on reports that you asked the interns to modify them to be exaggerated in order to make the stars look bad, the program was finally out of air.
“that was fucked up, y/n.” geto said, rubbing pads around his temples, trying to assimilate what just had happened.
“yeah, i know, but fucking show is what this bitches want.” you argued, lighting a cigarette as you turned your back to your friends and added: “see you guys tomorrow.” you waved.
“going to your hamptons house, dear?” gojo teased playfully. fuck you wish they weren’t like this, and geto giggled, since the three of you knew what they meant.
“tsk, you’re literally the worst.”
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you close the door behind you. he was already waiting, like a carnivore waiting for its prey, but this one is more civilized and he’s sitting on your couch (not to mention it rules the fucking country). even from afar, even with the dim light, you could see his already stiffen cock, making a bulge inside his pants. his legs are spread.
his grin, you can tell it’s wicked, whimsical. you understand that, you made him wait for so long, giving him enough time to think about all the things he can do to you.
“i’m so sorry, babe, traffic was a nightmare.” you soften your voice and give little hops with your shoes to get closer to him.
“how’s my lady doing?” as you accommodate yourself in one of his thighs, you rock your body and your hip can feel his engorged cock, gnawing and waiting to be released.
“fine, thank you, mr. president.” you tantalize him, arms around his neck. his aroma is mesmerizing, that expensive cologne that drove you crazy and then impregnated in your clothes.
his big hands surround your thigh, and your clit is starting to palpitate, knowing what’s going to happen next. you bite your lip and he notices right away.
“is it true that all of this house you buy it by yourself?” he asks, playing with the flesh of your legs, wanting to go further. however, he wanders in the same places, as if something holds him back.
“well, baby, you know that i cannot let everyone know you bought it. besides, it has taken me a lot of work.” you whisper to his ear and latch onto him.
your legs manage to open up, of course, he knows your dark intentions: open the legs so he can roam around into your crotch. nevertheless, he’s mad. despite how badly you wanted to save your “reputation” it hurts his ego being denied. he knows he can’t take revenge in public.
so he does it here, privately.
“you like to despise me, don’t you, precious?” his eyes examined you, as he savored with his tongue what he was going to say, “didn’t you say that sucking cock got you in the place you are right now.”
he lifted your skirt, toying your ass, barely clothed with thongs. then, a slap caught your ass off guard, jiggling. your voice gasped and mewled. and your clit was throbbing, praying for him to lose control.
he stands up and unbuckles his belt, releasing his pulsating, gnawing girth, finally able to breath. after that, you kneeled down, because you wanted to savour his fat, veiny cock, which was already having droplets of pre-cum.
your hands barely fill the thick shaft and staring at him deadly at your eyes. he loosened the collar of his shirt, as if the soft touch of your lips on the tip of cock makes his body simmer.
you lips wrap around and introduce it in your mouth. fuck, the way you manage to do it slowly... he knows it’s not because you can’t take it, it is because you love to tease him. you’re mocking him, claiming, bragging about all of the dicks you had to gobble.
so, he grabs your hair and starts thrust your mouth. your eyes close as you loosen your jaw and feel him going in and out.
when you finally separate, he made you lift your leg at the edge of the table that was next to the sofa, having a good sight of your cunt wide spread. he was so starved, desperate to demonstrate who was the one in charge, he just put aside the cloth that was covering your pussy and started ramming his cock inside of you.
“this is how you bought the house, don’t you sweetheart? boss was generous, didn’t he?” he hoarse to your ear, breathing heavily. he spanked your ass as his thrust, delved into your soft spot.
you mewled at his touch, at the way he was sundering his shaft, taking him so well, feeling the stretching so good, hitting your sweet spot.
“yeah.” your voice trembled and it extended to make it almost high-pitched.
“such a good slut, never taking from people who’s below her.” he gritted teeth.
“yeah, i’m such a good person.”you gulped and kept moaning.
he came inside you and you knew that satoru and geto will make fun of you.
178 notes ¡ View notes
solar-wing ¡ 11 months ago
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⚣ Too Late 💙
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⚣💙 A/N → request for @alexanderstarhero! Hope you enjoy it! Also, I apologize for my extended absence. I have a job, I'm starting a new school program, and business-related things keep me busy, but I'm still here guys! I promise! Not sure how I feel about this one. I feel like I could've done better but we desperately need some more Clark Kent x male reader though so here you go. Which, by the way, if you haven't checked out @nouearth, his Clark fics and literally everything else makes me melt and feel unholy things. Churches beware. ANYWAY, Hope everyone likes it! WARNINGS: Magical Male Reader | Angst & Fluff | Childhood Friends To Lovers | SFW |
⚣💙 Summary → You know, one would think moving to a completely different city in hopes of forgetting your past life and feelings would be enough. But fate is a sneaky little bastard that just loves to play with your feelings. Is it too late for a do-over?
⚣💙 Words → 12.4K
REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💙
⚣ ENJOY 💙
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The city lights of Metropolis flickered through the windows of a small, cozy apartment, where the hum of traffic below provided a constant background noise. Y/N stood by the window, a glass of juice in hand, staring out at the skyline. Since moving to the city, he often found himself feeling nostalgic, with old memories of Smallville popping into his mind more frequently than he’d like. Most of those memories had a common thread.
A soft sigh escaped his lips as he took a sip of his juice, the cool liquid doing little to ease the anxious tightness in his chest. Moving to Metropolis was supposed to be a fresh start—a way to leave behind his past and focus on building a better, normal life for himself, free from the constraints of small-town life.
Since he was a baby, Y/N had been gifted with magical abilities. How he got these powers was a mystery to both him and his parents; they could never find any trace of magical ability in their ancestry. With no idea where the powers came from, and no one to turn to for help, his parents did everything they could to hide their son’s abilities from the outside world. They tried their best to teach him control, but without expertise, they were flying blind.
Growing up, Y/N barely knew how to control or use his powers. You’d think in a small town like his, people would have noticed or called in the town priest, but that wasn’t the case. In Metropolis, when something strange happened—something that often happened to Y/N—people would give him odd looks, but then they’d move on with their day as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. In Smallville, though, everyone treated it as normal.
After the Kents arrived with their new kid, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere, the town acted as if every strange occurrence was just part of everyday life. They quickly shut down anyone who dared to question it, and that extended to both Clark Kent and Y/N.
Small towns were usually known for everyone knowing everyone’s business. Gossip was the native language. But not in Smallville. Y/N couldn’t help but smile a little at the memory of how the line between the ordinary and the extraordinary seemed to blur there. Most places would have been up in arms if they noticed the strange occurrences that happened in Smallville. But in that little Kansas town, people had an uncanny ability to overlook the impossible, shrugging off the extraordinary as if it were just another quirk of life.
Take Clark Kent, for instance. Anyone could see that something was different about him. He was stronger, faster, and able to do things most grown men couldn’t even imagine, let alone a small farm boy. But the townsfolk never questioned it. They simply accepted that he could do things no one else could and moved on.
It was the same with Y/N. He might accidentally cause a book to float off a shelf or a light to flicker when he was upset, but no one in Smallville ever made a fuss, something his parents were very grateful for. There were whispers—there always are in small towns—but they never left closed doors. The people of Smallville had learned long ago to mind their own business, especially when it came to the Kents and Y/N.
Even more so when a bunch of guys in black suits, glasses, and SUVs showed up one week, probing around town and asking strange questions. It had been after one of the more noticeable incidents—a moment when Clark saved someone in a way that couldn’t be easily explained. If there was one thing you could count on from a small town, it was that they weren’t saying anything to those types of Feds or government officials.
The memory was still vivid in Y/N’s mind: the way the town closed ranks, the polite but firm way the locals deflected every question, sending agents on wild goose chases until they finally gave up. His parents had mentioned that it was nothing compared to when that strange meteor hit the Kent farm and a bunch of government agents and scientists showed up—the same week the Kents got a new kid named Clark.
It was as if the entire town had decided, collectively and without speaking a word, that whatever was going on with the Kents—and by extension, Y/N—was their business and no one else’s. The unspoken rule in Smallville was clear: if you saw something strange, you didn’t see it. You didn’t ask questions, and you certainly didn’t talk about it. It was a kind of willful ignorance, a way for the town to protect its own from prying eyes. And in some strange, twisted way, it worked.
Y/N often wondered how much of it was a conscious choice and how much was just the way Smallville was. It was as if the town itself had decided to shield them, to create a bubble where the extraordinary was just another part of everyday life.
But as comforting as that was, it was also suffocating. Because even in a town that turned a blind eye to the unusual, Y/N couldn’t escape the feeling that he was different, that there was something wrong with him. He couldn’t shake the fear that one day, the bubble would burst, and everyone would see him for what he really was—a freak, an outcast.
At least he had a friend.
Imagine the two kids in town who both had episodes of strange, inexplicable things happening to them or around them becoming friends. Completely ironic, like something straight out of a story. Unless...
...
Nah.
But in a place where the extraordinary was treated with a shrug, having someone like Clark as a friend made all the difference. It was as if fate—or whatever unseen force governed the universe—had decided that these two oddities should find each other. And find each other they did, in the most natural, unassuming way possible.
Clark and Y/N became fast friends, drawn together by their shared experiences of feeling different, even if neither of them fully understood why. They never talked about the strange things that happened to them, never discussed how Clark could lift bales of hay like they weighed nothing, or how Y/N could sometimes make things move with just a thought. It was an unspoken agreement, a mutual understanding that whatever was happening to them was theirs to carry, together.
In a town that turned a blind eye to the impossible, Clark was the one person who made Y/N feel like he wasn’t alone. There was a quiet comfort in their friendship, a sense of belonging that Y/N had never felt before. They were both outsiders in their own way, but together, they found a place where they could be themselves, where they didn’t have to pretend or hide.
But as they grew older, that comfort became a source of anxiety for Y/N. The more time he spent with Clark, the more he realized that his feelings for his friend were deeper than just friendship. He cared about Clark in a way that went beyond the bond they shared, and it terrified him. In a town that could overlook floating books and superhuman strength, there were still lines that couldn’t be crossed, and Y/N knew that his feelings for Clark were one of them.
He tried to suppress those feelings, to bury them deep inside where they couldn’t cause any harm. But the harder he tried, the more they grew, until it became impossible to ignore them. He started to pull away, putting distance between himself and Clark, hoping that space would make the feelings fade. It didn’t.
Plus, Y/N still didn’t understand the extent of his abilities, and he knew sometimes his powers would react to his emotions. He didn’t want to risk doing anything that could hurt Clark. He didn’t think he’d be able to live with himself if something happened because of his inability to control his powers.
Yet, good old noble Clark, always perceptive and caring, noticed the change. He didn’t push or pry, but there was always that look in his eyes, a quiet concern that only made Y/N’s heart ache more. Clark didn’t know why Y/N was pulling away, but he never stopped trying to bridge the gap. He was always there with a smile, a warm word, or an invitation to hang out, never letting the distance between them grow too wide.
It was those small gestures that made it so hard for Y/N to keep his resolve. Every time he saw Clark, every time Clark reached out, Y/N was reminded of why he had fallen for him in the first place. Clark was kind, selfless, and endlessly patient—the kind of person who would give you the shirt off his back without a second thought. How could Y/N not fall in love with someone like that?
But that love was exactly what made Y/N so afraid. The more he cared about Clark, the more he feared losing him, either because of his uncontrolled magic or because of the feelings he couldn’t keep buried forever. He knew that if he stayed in Smallville, if he stayed close to Clark, something would eventually slip. Maybe he’d accidentally reveal his powers, or maybe his feelings would come spilling out in a moment of weakness. Either way, Y/N was sure that it would end with Clark looking at him differently, seeing him as something strange, something other.
Thankfully, the age of adulthood and high school graduation came, and Y/N took that as his way out. His parents were as worried as ever about him moving to a college so far away, but he reassured them he’d be fine.
He decided on college in New York, thinking the change from small town to big city was exactly what he needed. At least there, it made sense for people to turn a blind eye to whatever strange things were going on around them.
But even throughout his years of undergrad, Y/N could never shake the memories of Smallville, and more specifically, he could never forget Clark. No matter how much distance he put between them, the memories of their friendship lingered, haunting him in the quiet moments when he was alone. He would often catch himself thinking about Clark—wondering what he was doing, if he was still in Smallville, if he had moved on with his life the way Y/N had tried to.
Y/N thought that maybe, over time, those feelings would fade, that he would move on and forget the boy who had once meant everything to him. But they never did. Even in the crowded, bustling city of New York, where life moved at a breakneck pace and there was always something new to distract him, Y/N found his thoughts drifting back to Clark.
He tried dating other people, hoping that maybe if he found someone else, someone who wasn’t Clark, it would help him move on. But it never worked. No one else could compare to the boy who had always been there for him, who had seen him at his worst and never judged him for it. Every relationship ended the same way, with Y/N feeling like he was chasing something he could never have, like he was trying to fill a void that only Clark could fill.
Then, after graduation, Y/N was offered a job in Metropolis. It was a great opportunity, the kind of offer he couldn’t turn down. It wasn’t too far from where he was already living, but he figured a new change of scenery couldn’t be too bad.
Plus, he wanted to check out the rumors he’d heard of some sort of superhero who had started making headlines in Metropolis. The stories seemed almost too wild to believe—a man with superhuman strength, speed, and the ability to fly, saving people and fighting crime in the heart of the city. It was the kind of thing that would have been dismissed as tabloid nonsense anywhere else, but Y/N knew better. If there was one thing Smallville had taught him, it was that the extraordinary often hid in plain sight.
So, with a mix of curiosity and the desire for a fresh start, Y/N packed his bags and moved to Metropolis. He found a small, cozy apartment in a quieter part of the city, close enough to the action but far enough to avoid the chaos. The job was great—challenging, fulfilling, and exactly what he needed to take his mind off things. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape the feeling that he was still running, still trying to outrun the shadow of his past.
Despite his attempts to leave his old life behind, Y/N couldn’t completely ignore his powers. He had spent too long hiding them, too long fearing them, but deep down, he believed that if he had these abilities, he should use them for good. In Smallville, he had been careful, using his magic only when absolutely necessary, but here in Metropolis, he found himself with more opportunities to help in small, subtle ways.
He’d mend a broken bike chain with a whisper of an incantation or quietly heal a scraped knee when no one was looking. He’d use his magic to nudge a stray cat away from traffic or to coax a wilting plant back to life. He was always careful, always discreet, making sure that no one noticed the little miracles he performed. It was his way of giving back, of using the gifts he had been given to make the world around him just a little bit better.
But there were times when he couldn’t help but step in and do more.
One evening, he walked past a small, family-owned bookstore that he had become fond of. The owner, an elderly man who had run the shop for decades, was sitting behind the counter with a look of deep worry on his face. Over the weeks, Y/N had noticed the shelves becoming sparser, and the customers fewer. The man had confided in Y/N once, mentioning how the business was struggling, how the bills were piling up, and how he feared he might lose the store if things didn’t turn around soon.
Y/N couldn’t bear to see the man lose everything he had worked so hard to build. So, that night, under the cover of darkness, Y/N returned to the bookstore. He stood outside the shop, focusing his energy on the building, weaving a spell that would attract more customers and give the store a sense of warmth and welcoming. He whispered incantations for prosperity and good fortune, sending out waves of magic that would subtly influence the minds of those who passed by, drawing them in with an inexplicable urge to browse and buy.
Over the next few days, Y/N was delighted to see the shop bustling with customers. The owner’s smile returned, and the store was once again filled with the chatter of people and the smell of fresh coffee brewing in the corner. The shelves began to fill up again, and the old man even had to hire an assistant to help him manage the increasing business.
Another time, he found himself playing guardian angel when he was walking home from work one night and spotted a young woman on the opposite side of the street, her pace quickening as she noticed a group of men following her. Y/N’s heart raced, and he quickly assessed the situation. He couldn’t confront them directly—he wasn’t a superhero—but he could help in other ways.
A few thoughts and concentrated focus, and suddenly a series of events unfolded: a nearby street light flickered and went out, casting the area in shadow; a loud crash from behind pulled the men's attention away from her; a gentle breeze nudged her toward a more populated, well-lit area. With the streetlight out, it gave her natural cover long enough to slip out of sight and into the safety of a nearby diner, the sound of her heels muffled by Y/N’s magic.
Y/N watched from a distance, relieved when the woman was safe inside, her would-be attackers now lost and confused. It wasn’t the first time he had done something like that, and it wouldn’t be the last.
Recently, he visited a local hospital where a friend’s child was being treated. The doctors were worried; the illness wasn’t responding to treatment, and the prognosis was grim. Y/N spent hours by the child’s bedside, speaking softly to him, holding his hand. When no one was looking, he let his magic flow through him, just a touch, just enough to help the child’s body fight back.
The next morning, the doctors were stunned by the sudden improvement. They couldn’t explain it, chalked it up to a miracle or a sudden turn of fate, but Y/N knew better. He slipped away before anyone could question it, leaving behind only a whispered prayer of thanks for the child’s recovery.
Y/N never took credit for any of his acts. And while they weren’t grand, weren’t the stuff of legends, they were enough to give him a sense of purpose, a way to use his gifts without drawing too much attention. He was careful, always careful, to remain in the shadows, to let the world think these small miracles were just coincidences, nothing more.
But now, standing in his apartment, staring out at the city skyline, Y/N couldn’t help but feel like he was right back where he started. The memories of Smallville were stronger than ever, and the loneliness he had tried so hard to escape felt more suffocating in this big city than it ever had in the small town.
It had been years since he left, but the memories of that quiet town still lingered in his mind, especially the memories of Clark Kent. He just couldn’t figure out why they had suddenly become so strong. Maybe it was the time of year, or maybe it was because he had been thinking about how he used his magic to help people in Metropolis—something that Clark would surely approve of, even if he never knew about it.
Or maybe it was because, despite everything he had done to distance himself, Clark had always been there, a constant presence in his thoughts, no matter how much Y/N tried to move on.
He took another sip of his juice, the cool liquid doing little to ease the tightness in his chest. He hadn’t seen Clark in years, hadn’t heard from him since he left Smallville, but the feelings he had for his old friend hadn’t faded. If anything, they had only grown stronger, deepening with time and distance. And that was what scared him the most—how much he still cared, how much he still missed him.
Y/N set his glass down on the windowsill, running a hand through his hair as he tried to shake off the nostalgia. He had a new life now, a good life, and he couldn’t afford to dwell on the past. Clark was probably living his own life, happy and successful, just as Y/N was trying to do.
But the more he tried to push the memories away, the more they clung to him, like shadows that refused to disappear. He sighed, turning his gaze out the window, hoping that the familiar sight of the city would ground him, would remind him of the new path he had chosen.
The city lights twinkled in the distance, a sea of illumination against the darkened sky. Y/N’s eyes scanned the skyline absently, taking in the familiar sights he had grown accustomed to since moving to Metropolis. But something caught his eye, something unusual that made his breath catch in his throat.
High above the city, a figure streaked across the sky, moving with impossible speed and grace. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as he recognized the red and blue blur—a sight that had become increasingly familiar to the citizens of Metropolis. It was Superman.
Y/N watched, mesmerized, as the figure soared through the night, his movements precise and powerful. But as he watched, a strange sensation began to creep over him, a feeling that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It wasn’t just awe or admiration—though those feelings were there, too—it was something deeper, something unsettling.
There was something about Superman, something in the way he moved, in the way he seemed to command the air around him, that tugged at the edges of Y/N’s consciousness. It was as if some hidden part of him recognized the hero in the sky, even though he knew that was impossible. He had never met Superman, had never been anywhere near him. And yet…
Y/N pressed his hand against the cool glass of the window, his heart pounding in his chest. His magic, usually so controlled, began to stir, responding to the swirl of emotions inside him. The sensation was both familiar and alien, a strange mix of nostalgia and unease that made his chest tighten.
As he watched Superman disappear into the distance, Y/N couldn’t shake the eerie feeling that had settled over him. It was as if the presence of the hero had awakened something inside him, something that had been dormant for years. And with that awakening came a sense of foreboding, a nagging feeling that his past was not as far behind him as he had hoped.
Y/N tore his gaze away from the window, trying to dispel the uneasy feeling that had taken root in his chest. But even as he turned away, the sense of familiarity lingered, haunting him like a ghost from a life he had tried so hard to leave behind.
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, but the image of Superman remained burned into his mind, along with the inexplicable sense that something—someone—was drawing him back into a world he thought he had escaped.
And deep down, Y/N knew that this was only the beginning.
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The grand ballroom of the Metropolis City Hall buzzed with chatter, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter. The charity event his job was sponsoring was in full swing, a glamorous affair with the city’s elite mingling and donating to a worthy cause. Y/N stood near the edge of the room, awkwardly holding a glass of water and wondering how quickly he could make a polite escape.
This wasn’t exactly his scene. Networking? Sure. Small talk? Not so much. Especially with these tone-deaf, overly stiff airheads.  He glanced around, trying to locate the nearest exit, but the sea of people made it difficult. And just when he thought found a suitable path of escape, a waiter with a tray of hors d'oeuvres suddenly appeared in front of him.
“Crab cake?”
“Uh, no thanks,” Y/N mumbled, sidestepping the tray, only to nearly collide with a woman in a sequined dress who was clearly on a mission to get to the bar. He offered a quick apology and finally made it to a quiet corner, where he could breathe again.
As he scanned the room, his thoughts drifted back to last night and a certain caped superhero. His curiosity combined with the still overwhelming feelings of longing and nostalgia had the magic in him feeling antsy. And the last thing Y/N needed was to accidentally cause a chandelier to implode or a champagne glass to refill itself endlessly.
He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself, not wanting to make a big scene considering he wanted to make a hasty and sneaky exit. As he opened his eyes, Y/N forced his thoughts away from Superman, away from the strange connection he’d felt the night before. He needed to focus on the present, on getting through this evening without incident.
Y/N sighed, taking a sip of his water. This was supposed to be a fresh start. The past was behind him, and he needed to keep it that way.
But fate, as it often does, had other plans. Little sneaky bastard.
Just as he was about to make a break for the exit, Y/N’s eyes caught sight of someone across the room, and his heart nearly stopped. There, standing by the dessert table with a bemused expression, was Clark Kent.
Of course, Clark would be standing around looking lost with his cute little confused expression. Even now as a grown man, Clark managed to keep his boyish and innocent demeanor. Y/N’s mouth went dry as his eyes took in the sight of the male—older, more polished, and just as big as ever.
Since they were little, Clark always stood out among the other kids for his build and height alone. And it looks like that didn't change with the way he towered over everyone in the room and how his broad shoulders filled out his suit perfectly, the fabric clinging just right in all the places that mattered. Y/N felt a familiar flutter in his chest, a mix of nostalgia and something more complicated that he’d been trying to ignore for years.
Clark, as if sensing someone’s gaze on him, looked up from the dessert table. His eyes, those same bright blue eyes that Y/N remembered so well, scanned the room briefly before landing directly on him. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and for a split second, he considered ducking behind the nearest potted plant.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Y/N could feel his pulse in his throat, and for a second, he entertained the idea of hiding behind the nearest potted plant.
But then Clark’s face lit up with a grin that could have powered the entire room, and he started making his way over, weaving through the crowd with the kind of determined politeness that only Clark could pull off.
Panic set in, and Y/N’s mind scrambled for a plan, but his feet were rooted to the spot, his body betraying him. All he could do was watch as Clark closed the distance between them, that familiar grin never leaving his face.
“Y/N!” Clark’s voice was as warm and friendly as Y/N remembered, and before he knew it, he was being pulled into a hug that was just as firm and comforting as it had always been.
Y/N stiffened for a moment, caught off guard by the unexpected embrace. When Clark finally pulled back, still keeping a hand on Y/N’s shoulder as if afraid he might vanish, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the slight smudge of chocolate on Clark’s tie. It was such a Clark thing to have—always a little messy, always endearing.
“Clark,” Y/N managed to say, his voice coming out more breathless than he intended. “It’s been a while.”
Clark beamed at him, the smile reaching his eyes in that way that always made Y/N feel like everything was going to be okay. “Yeah, it really has,” Clark said, his tone filled with a warmth that made Y/N’s heart ache with memories of simpler times. “I almost didn’t recognize you without the Smallville backdrop.”
Y/N let out a small laugh, trying to keep things light despite the sudden rush of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. “Yeah, I guess we’ve both changed a bit.”
Clark’s gaze lingered on Y/N’s face, a mix of curiosity and concern in his eyes. It was clear that Clark had questions, but to his credit, he didn’t push. Instead, he gave Y/N one of those easy, reassuring smiles that had always been able to calm him down. “I’m really glad to see you again. I’ve missed you, Y/N.”
There it was—the punch to the gut that Y/N had been dreading. He had missed Clark too, more than he wanted to admit. But standing here, face-to-face with him after all these years, all those old fears and feelings began to resurface. The fear of Clark discovering the truth about his powers, about his feelings. The fear of losing the one person who had always meant the most to him.
“I’ve missed you too,” Y/N said, the words slipping out before he could stop them. It was the truth, but saying it out loud made the tightness in his chest even worse.
Clark’s smile softened, and for a brief moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the room. Y/N could almost believe that they could pick up where they left off, that everything could go back to the way it was. But deep down, he knew it could never be that simple.
His smile didn’t waver, but his eyes narrowed slightly, a familiar look of concern flickering across his face. “You okay? You seem a little… off.”
Y/N forced a laugh, hoping it didn’t sound as strained as it felt. “I’m fine, just—uh—surprised, I guess. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Well, surprise!” Clark laughed with his usual shy manner that was somehow still charming for Y/N’s frayed nerves. “I’ve been working at the Daily Planet. Moved to Metropolis not too long ago. How about you? What brings you here?”
“Work,” Y/N answered quickly, trying to keep the conversation light. “Got a job offer I couldn’t turn down.”
Clark nodded, his eyes never leaving Y/N. It was as if he was trying to read him, to figure out what was going on beneath the surface. For a moment, Y/N was afraid that Clark could see right through him, could see the turmoil and conflict he was struggling with.
But then, the moment passed, and Clark was smiling again, his expression softening.
Y/N cleared his throat, forcing his thoughts away from the past and back to the present. "So, the Daily Planet, huh? That’s a pretty big deal," he said, trying to keep the conversation light.
Clark’s eyes lit up, and he nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! It’s been a dream come true. And the best part? I get to work with some amazing people—Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen. They’re right over there, actually," Clark added, his tone suddenly turning a bit more nervous. "You’ve got to meet them!"
Before Y/N could even process the idea, Clark grabbed his arm, leading him through the crowd with an urgency that caught Y/N off guard. He barely had time to adjust before they were standing in front of a petite woman with sharp eyes and a confident demeanor, who was mid-conversation with a young man enthusiastically fiddling with a vintage camera.
"Lois! Jimmy!" Clark called out, drawing their attention.
Lois turned first, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in Y/N. Then her expression softened into a warm, welcoming smile. "Clark! Who’s this?"
Clark beamed, looking from Lois to Y/N with a hint of nervous energy. "This is Y/N. We grew up together in Smallville."
"Smallville?" Lois’s eyebrow arched with clear interest. "Now that’s a place with some stories, I bet."
Jimmy, now peering at Y/N through the lens of his camera, quickly snapped a picture before lowering it with an apologetic grin. "Sorry, couldn’t resist. It’s a habit."
Y/N chuckled, shaking his head. "No worries. I’m used to it."
Lois leaned in, her curiosity clearly piqued. "So, Y/N, what was Clark like back in Smallville? I can only imagine."
Y/N glanced at Clark, who looked both hopeful and slightly anxious. "Clark and I were pretty much inseparable growing up," Y/N said with a smile, trying to keep the conversation light. "He was always the guy you could count on, the one who’d help you out of a jam and then offer you pie afterward."
Lois’s eyes twinkled with intrigue, clearly not ready to let the topic go. "Pie and jam, huh? Sounds like you two got into some interesting situations. Any fun stories you care to share?"
Y/N felt his heart rate pick up. He could sense the inquisitiveness behind Lois’s casual tone, the way she was gently probing for more. She was good—really good. "Oh, you know, small-town stuff," he said, forcing a chuckle. "Mostly just boring farm work and school."
Clark, sensing Y/N’s discomfort, quickly jumped in. "Yeah, nothing too exciting. Just your average childhood, right, Y/N?"
"Right," Y/N agreed, a bit too quickly. He could feel Lois’s eyes on him, studying him, and it made his magic stir uneasily. The last thing he wanted was for her to start asking more pointed questions that might lead her to the truth.
Lois didn’t miss a beat. "So, you two must have been really close, then. I bet you know all of Clark’s secrets," she said with a teasing smile, though there was a hint of genuine curiosity in her voice.
Y/N’s stomach dropped. He forced another laugh, this one more strained. "Well, everyone’s got their secrets, right?"
Lois raised an eyebrow, clearly catching the subtle tension in Y/N’s voice. "True," she said slowly, her eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to piece together a puzzle. "But something tells me you’re not just any old friend from Smallville."
Clark, sensing that the conversation was veering into dangerous territory, let out a nervous laugh. "Lois, come on, don’t interrogate him on the first meeting!"
Jimmy, sensing the shift in tone, chimed in, grinning as he tried to lighten the mood. "Yeah, Lois, ease up! You don’t want to scare off Clark’s oldest friend."
Lois gave a soft laugh, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I’ll back off… for now."
Y/N smiled, but there was a tightness in his chest that he couldn’t shake. Lois’s perceptiveness had always been one of her strengths, and it was clear she was picking up on more than he wanted to reveal.
"Seriously, though," Lois said, her tone softening as she gave Y/N a more genuine smile. "It’s good to meet you. Any friend of Clark’s is a friend of ours."
Y/N relaxed slightly, appreciating the warm reception despite his earlier nerves. "Thanks, Lois. I appreciate that."
As the conversation continued, Y/N found himself relaxing a bit more, though the earlier tension still lingered in the back of his mind. He knew he’d have to be careful around Lois—her curiosity and sharp instincts were not something to be underestimated.
Lois, ever the sharp-eyed reporter, leaned closer to Y/N. "So, what brings you to Metropolis? Work?"
"Yeah," Y/N nodded, "I got an offer I couldn’t turn down."
Lois nodded, impressed. "Well, welcome to the city. You know, we’re always looking for interesting people to feature in the Planet. Maybe we’ll run into each other more often."
"Maybe," Y/N said, feeling a bit more at ease. "It’s a small world after all."
Clark chuckled at that, his earlier nervousness fading as the conversation flowed more naturally. "I’m really glad we ran into each other, Y/N. We should definitely hang out more. I mean, if you’re not too busy with work."
Realistically, Y/N should have declined. He should have politely excused himself and gone home, putting an end to the whole thing. But when he looked at Clark, saw the hope and excitement in his eyes, he couldn't bring himself to say no.
All his nervous thoughts and reservations about what could happen if he allowed himself to get close to Clark again seemed to just fade to the back of his mind as he re-connected with him and got to know his two friends. A new familiar feeling also settled in place as well, but not so much nostalgia.
It was more of something he didn't even remember feeling. A sense of ease and comfort, his magic calm and feeling completely grounded. A feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time but something that wasn't new or unfamiliar, a very welcomed sensation and peace.
"I'd love to," Y/N said, his heart skipping a beat.
Clark's smile was brighter than the sun, and though Y/N knew he was in trouble just for that, emotions and impulse overtook his logic. Thus, he didn't really care.
As the night continued, Y/N found himself more at ease, the earlier tension gradually dissipating. Lois, ever the investigative reporter, kept throwing glances his way, but she seemed content for now, her curiosity temporarily satisfied. Jimmy, meanwhile, was snapping pictures of everything and everyone, his energy infectious.
Y/N had to admit, despite his initial apprehension, he was enjoying himself. The company was good, the conversation flowed easily, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was part of something. A small part of him wondered if this was what he had been missing—connection, camaraderie, a sense of belonging.
Clark leaned in closer, a warm smile on his face. "So, Y/N, how have you been? I mean, really been?"
Y/N paused, considering his answer. He could have brushed off the question, given a generic response about work being busy and life being hectic. But something about the way Clark asked, the genuine concern in his voice, made Y/N want to be honest.
"I’ve been… okay," Y/N said, the words coming out slower than he expected. "Moving to Metropolis has been a big change, but it’s good. I’m still finding my way, I guess."
Clark nodded, his expression softening with understanding. "I get that. Moving here was a big adjustment for me too. But you know, it helps when you’ve got friends around. People you can rely on."
Y/N smiled at that, a warmth spreading through him. "Yeah, it does."
Lois, sensing the shift in the conversation, jumped back in with her trademark curiosity. "So, Y/N, what exactly do you do for work? You mentioned an offer you couldn’t turn down."
Y/N hesitated, not wanting to reveal too much. "I work in consulting," he said, keeping it vague. "It’s a bit of everything, really. I help businesses with strategy, operations, that sort of thing."
Lois’s eyes narrowed slightly, clearly not satisfied with the lack of detail, but she let it slide, for now. "That sounds interesting. Metropolis must be a great place for that kind of work."
"It is," Y/N replied, grateful she didn’t press further.
Jimmy, ever the enthusiastic one, suddenly popped up between them, holding out his camera. "Hey, how about a picture? You guys look great together!"
Y/N barely had time to react before Jimmy was positioning them for a shot, his camera clicking away. Clark chuckled, clearly used to Jimmy’s antics, while Lois struck a pose with practiced ease.
As they waited for the flash, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sense of surrealism wash over him. Here he was, reconnecting with an old friend, surrounded by new ones, in a city that was starting to feel less like a strange place and more like a potential home.
The camera flashed, capturing the moment, and Jimmy grinned as he checked the screen. "Perfect! This one’s definitely going in the album."
Lois nodded in agreement, a smile on her face. "Yeah, this is one for the books. You’re officially part of the crew now, Y/N."
Y/N laughed, the sound genuine and light. "Well, I guess there’s no turning back now."
Clark’s smile was warm, his eyes shining with something that made Y/N’s heart skip a beat. "I’m really glad you’re here, Y/N. It feels like old times."
Y/N nodded, feeling a mix of emotions swirl within him. "Yeah, it does."
As the evening drew on, the four of them continued to chat, the conversation flowing easily between light-hearted banter and more serious topics. Y/N felt a connection with Clark and his friends that he hadn’t felt in a long time, and for the first time since moving to Metropolis, he allowed himself to relax and enjoy the moment.
But as the night wore on and the event began to wind down, Y/N couldn’t shake the nagging feeling at the back of his mind. Lois’s earlier questions had been harmless enough, but he knew her type—persistent, sharp, and always on the lookout for a story. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down too much, especially with his magic always threatening to reveal itself.
Yet, despite the risks, Y/N found himself wanting to spend more time with Clark, to catch up on the years they’d missed, and maybe even find a way to make this new life in Metropolis work. It was a dangerous line to walk, but for tonight, he was willing to take that risk.
As they all said their goodbyes and made plans to meet up again soon, Y/N felt a sense of contentment settle over him. Maybe this fresh start in Metropolis wouldn’t be as complicated as he feared. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to balance the old and the new, to keep his secrets while building something real with the people who were quickly becoming more than just acquaintances.
And maybe, this time, since he was older and more aware and mature, he could keep his feelings for Clark in check.
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Yeah, that hope didn't last long.
Y/N sighed as he stared up at the ceiling of his apartment, reflecting on how quickly things had spiraled out of control since reconnecting with Clark. It had only been a few weeks, but in that short time, his life had become a whirlwind of old emotions, new challenges, and unexpected complications.
He’d spent more time with Clark, Lois, and Jimmy than he had anticipated. There were coffee runs, after-work dinners, and late-night brainstorming sessions where Lois would excitedly discuss her latest scoop while Jimmy showed off his latest photos. Clark, ever the supportive friend, would listen intently, adding his own insights with that same gentle warmth that had always made Y/N feel at ease.
Lois and Jimmy were friendly and welcoming, but Y/N could never fully relax around them. He still had to always be on guard, constantly aware of the magic simmering just beneath the surface.
And despite the camaraderie, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place. It wasn’t just that he was trying to reintegrate into Clark’s life; it was the constant need to keep his magic under control, especially around Lois and Jimmy. The two of them were sharp—Lois, with her inquisitive nature, and Jimmy, with his keen eye for detail. They’d pick up on any slip-up, any sign that Y/N wasn’t just an ordinary guy from Smallville.
And then there were the moments of crisis—because Metropolis was never short on those. It seemed like every time Y/N was with the trio, something would happen. A runaway bus, a building fire, some random new villain on the loose—something always required Superman’s intervention. And every single time, Clark would disappear with a flimsy excuse, only for Superman to show up moments later.
The first time it happened, Y/N had been at a food truck with Clark and Jimmy, enjoying a rare sunny afternoon. They were laughing about something silly Jimmy had said when suddenly, the sound of screeching tires and panicked screams filled the air. Without missing a beat, Clark had mumbled something about needing to make a quick call and bolted, leaving Y/N standing there confused with Lois and Jimmy. Moments later, Superman was on the scene, saving the day like clockwork.
Lois and Jimmy had immediately sprung into action, Jimmy snapping photos while Lois started interviewing witnesses. They had been weirdly calm about the whole thing, a lot of things actually when Y/N thought about it. It was like Smallville all over again, things that should cause people to react with caution and apprehension, but instead, they barely blinked an eye.
It didn’t help that every time Clark returned, he looked winded and disheveled, and Lois would give him a knowing glance that made Y/N’s stomach twist with unease.
Meanwhile, he'd also been using his magic discreetly in these various scenarios to help keep people safe and minimize destruction and casualties. But in the chaos, he’d nearly been caught by Lois, who had turned around just as Y/N was subtly redirecting a beam of wood away from a trapped child.
“Hey, how’d you do that?” she’d asked, her sharp eyes narrowing in suspicion.
Y/N had stammered out a weak excuse, something about adrenaline and luck, but he could tell Lois wasn’t convinced. She’d given him that look—the one that said she wasn’t done with him yet.
And it wasn’t the last time, either. Every time something happened, Y/N found himself using his magic to help, and every time, he came dangerously close to being caught by Lois. She was perceptive, and it was clear she was starting to get suspicious. Her questions about his past, about his connection to Clark, were getting more pointed, and Y/N could feel the pressure mounting.
But there was another element to this that Y/N hadn’t anticipated—jealousy. The more time he spent with the group, the more he noticed how close Clark and Lois were. It wasn’t just their professional partnership; it was the way they interacted, the easy banter, the shared looks, the inside jokes. Y/N couldn’t help but notice the way Clark’s eyes lit up whenever Lois was around, how he seemed more at ease with her than anyone else.
It irritated Y/N more than he wanted to admit. He knew it was irrational—Clark was allowed to have close friends, and Lois was obviously important to him. But every time he saw them together, it felt like a thorn in his side, a constant reminder of how complicated things had become. It didn’t help that Lois was so naturally curious, always asking questions about his and Clark’s past, digging into their history with a relentless enthusiasm that made Y/N squirm.
And then there were the quiet moments—those rare instances when it was just Y/N and Clark, away from the chaos of the city. They’d talk about everything and nothing, slipping into the easy rhythm of their past friendship. But every time, Y/N felt the old feelings bubbling up, stronger than ever.
Like the night they’d gone for a walk along the Metropolis River. The city lights reflected off the water, casting a soft glow over everything. Clark had been unusually quiet, his hands tucked into his pockets as they strolled. Y/N had felt the tension between them, the unspoken words hanging in the air.
“I’m glad you’re here, Y/N,” Clark had said suddenly, breaking the silence. “It’s like… it feels right, having you around again.”
Y/N had smiled, but it hadn’t reached his eyes. He wanted to say something—anything—that would match the sincerity in Clark’s voice, but the words had caught in his throat. Instead, he’d just nodded, trying to ignore the way his heart raced every time Clark looked at him like that.
But every time they were together, every time Clark smiled at him or brushed against him accidentally, Y/N felt his resolve weakening. It was getting harder to pretend that everything was fine, that he didn’t still have feelings for Clark.
And as they spent more time together, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder—did Clark feel it too? There were moments, subtle ones, where Y/N thought he saw something in Clark’s eyes, a lingering gaze, a soft smile that seemed meant just for him. But then Clark would pull back, or Lois would step in, and Y/N was left questioning if it was all in his head.
But now, lying on his couch and staring at the ceiling, Y/N couldn’t ignore it anymore. The old feelings hadn’t just resurfaced—they were drowning him, pulling him under with a force he couldn’t fight.
It wasn’t just about Clark, though that was a huge part of it. It was the fear of what would happen if Clark—or worse, Lois and Jimmy—found out about his magic. They were all so caught up in their own world of secrets and dangers, and Y/N wasn’t sure if he could handle being part of it. He wasn’t sure if he could keep up the act much longer.
His phone buzzed on the coffee table, pulling him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the screen and saw a message from Clark: Hey, want to grab dinner with Lois and Jimmy? We’re thinking Thai.
Y/N hesitated for a moment before typing a quick reply: Sure, sounds good.
As he grabbed his jacket and headed out the door, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that he was walking a tightrope, balancing between the life he had built for himself and the one he had left behind. And with every step, he was getting closer to falling off.
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As Y/N walked to the restaurant, he kept his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, trying to calm the unease that had settled in his chest. He needed to get a grip, to find a way to keep his feelings in check before they, and thus his magic spiraled out of control. The last thing he wanted was for Clark to notice—or worse, for Lois to start asking questions.
By the time he reached the restaurant, Y/N had managed to push his anxiety down, forcing a smile as he spotted Clark, Lois, and Jimmy waiting outside. Clark waved him over, his smile as bright as ever.
"Hey, glad you could make it," Clark greeted him with his usual warm and bright tone.
"Heh, wouldn't miss it," Y/N chuckled, trying to keep his voice casual.
As they ate, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the easy dynamic between Lois and Clark. There was a familiarity there, an unspoken understanding that made Y/N’s chest tighten with a mix of jealousy and longing. He wanted to be part of that, to be as close to Clark as Lois was.
But then Lois turned to him, her sharp eyes studying him with that same curiosity he’d noticed at the gala. “So, Y/N, what was Clark like back in Smallville? He never talks much about his hometown.”
Y/N felt his pulse quicken. He shot a quick glance at Clark, who was suddenly very interested in his pad Thai.
“Oh, you know,” Y/N began, trying to keep his tone light, “just your average small-town kid. We spent a lot of time getting into trouble and trying to keep out of it.”
Lois raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with the vague answer. “Really? I find that hard to believe. Clark’s practically the poster boy for responsibility.”
Y/N forced a laugh, trying to deflect Lois’s probing gaze. “Yeah, well, even poster boys have their moments. We were just kids, you know? Doing dumb stuff like exploring abandoned barns or sneaking out to the creek after dark. Nothing too wild.��
Lois leaned in slightly, her eyes narrowing with that trademark inquisitiveness. “Come on, Y/N, you’re holding out on me. I want the juicy details. What kind of trouble did Clark get into?”
Y/N could feel the heat rising in his face, a mix of nerves, and the pressure of trying to avoid any slip-ups. “Honestly, it was mostly me dragging him into stuff. Clark was always the one keeping me out of serious trouble.”
Clark chuckled nervously, his eyes darting between Y/N and Lois. “Yeah, Y/N was always the adventurous one. I was just along for the ride.”
Jimmy, sensing the tension, tried to lighten the mood. “I don’t know, Lois. I think Clark’s just good at covering his tracks. Bet he’s got a whole secret rebellious side we don’t know about.”
Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at Jimmy’s words, the irony of the statement not lost on him. If only they knew just how many secrets Clark was hiding—or how many he was keeping himself.
Lois, however, wasn’t so easily deterred. “I don’t doubt it,” she said, her eyes flicking back to Y/N with a knowing smile. “And I bet you’ve got some secrets of your own, Y/N. You seem like the type who’s good at keeping things under wraps.”
Y/N’s smile faltered for just a second before he forced it back into place. “Who doesn’t have a few secrets?” he replied, trying to keep his tone light and nonchalant.
Lois’s gaze lingered on him a moment longer, and Y/N could practically feel her trying to piece together the puzzle she was sure he was hiding. He shifted uncomfortably, desperate to change the subject.
“Anyway,” Y/N said, his voice a bit too loud in his haste to redirect the conversation, “what about you guys? You’ve all been working together for a while now. Any crazy stories from the Daily Planet?”
Clark gave him a grateful smile, clearly relieved at the change in topic. “Oh, you know, it’s mostly just chasing down leads and trying to stay out of trouble ourselves.”
Lois smirked. “Mostly. There have been a few close calls, though. Like that time we were covering that gala and—”
But before she could continue, there was a sudden commotion outside the restaurant. The sound of screeching tires and shouting filled the air, followed by the unmistakable sound of something crashing into a building.
Clark’s expression immediately shifted to one of concern. “I’ll, uh, be right back,” he mumbled, already moving toward the door.
Moments later, Superman was on the scene, and Y/N found himself once again in the midst of a crisis, trying to discreetly use his magic to help those around him. He directed falling debris away from pedestrians, subtly reinforced a crumbling wall, and calmed panicked civilians—all while trying to stay out of Lois’s line of sight.
As Y/N moved through the chaos, he couldn’t help but keep one eye on Lois. She was already pulling out her phone, likely trying to reach out to sources or start documenting the scene for the Daily Planet. But more than once, Y/N caught her glancing his way, her sharp eyes narrowing as if she were trying to figure something out.
It didn’t help that every time Y/N used his magic, Lois seemed to notice something was off. Like when he subtly redirected a falling streetlight away from a group of bystanders, Lois had been nearby and had whipped around, her eyes narrowing as she spotted Y/N standing there, his hand half-raised.
“Where, how did you—” she started, but Y/N cut her off quickly.
“Uh, just lucky timing,” he said, flashing what he hoped was a convincing grin.
Lois didn’t look convinced, but before she could press further, another explosion rocked the area as Superman swooped across the sky in a fight with some new villain. Lois’s attention was immediately drawn away as she dashed off to get closer to the action, leaving Y/N with a brief moment of relief.
But it was short-lived. He could feel the weight of his secret bearing down on him, the fear that at any moment, Lois would start putting the pieces together. She was too perceptive, too determined to uncover the truth, and Y/N was running out of excuses.
Y/N’s heart pounded as he watched Lois dart away, her focus now on Superman’s battle overhead. The city block was in chaos—buildings crumbling, cars overturned, and terrified civilians running for cover. Y/N could feel the familiar tingle of his magic, urging him to act, but he hesitated. He was too exposed, too close to Lois and Jimmy, who were both still in the thick of things, trying to stay safe while getting their story.
But then he saw it—a mother and her young child, trapped beneath a fallen piece of debris, their terrified cries cutting through the noise. Without thinking, Y/N moved. He knew he couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.
Darting through the chaos, he reached the trapped pair, his heart racing. The chunk of concrete pinning them was far too heavy for him to lift on his own, but that didn’t stop him from trying. He pretended to struggle with it for a moment, glancing around to make sure no one was watching too closely. Then, with a whispered incantation, he let his magic flow, lifting the debris just enough for the mother to pull her child to safety.
“Go! Get out of here!” Y/N urged them, and they didn’t need to be told twice. They scrambled to their feet and ran, not looking back.
But as Y/N released his grip on the concrete, allowing it to crash back to the ground, he felt a prickling at the back of his neck. He turned just in time to see Lois standing a few feet away, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and suspicion.
“Y/N…” she started, her voice barely audible over the sounds of destruction around them. “How did you—”
Before she could finish, a loud crash interrupted her, drawing their attention to the ongoing battle above. Superman was locked in a fierce struggle with the villain, who was wielding some kind of energy weapon that was tearing through the city with reckless abandon.
Lois hesitated for a split second, torn between confronting Y/N and rushing to cover the story. The journalist in her won out, and she turned to run towards the action, but not before shooting Y/N one last look, a promise that this conversation wasn’t over.
Y/N let out a shaky breath, but there was no time to dwell on what Lois had seen. The battle was escalating, and the destruction was growing worse by the second. He knew he had to do more, had to use his magic more openly if he wanted to save lives. The fear of exposure warred with his instinct to help, but his desire to help won out.
As Y/N wove his way through the chaos, he could feel his magic surging within him, responding to his need to act. With each subtle spell, he could feel the pressure mounting, the risk of being discovered growing with every passing moment. But he couldn't stop, not when so many lives were at stake.
As Y/N moved through the chaos, helping people where he could, he lost himself in the urgency of the moment. He pulled a child out of harm's way, extinguished small fires with a flick of his wrist, and used his magic to steady a teetering scaffold that was threatening to collapse onto a group of bystanders. Every action was instinctual, his focus so intense that he didn’t even notice how close he was getting to the epicenter of the danger.
Meanwhile, Superman was engaged in a fierce battle with the villain, their clash sending shockwaves through the city. Clark’s attention was divided, trying to subdue the threat while keeping an eye on his friends below. But in the midst of the fight, he noticed Y/N inching dangerously close to the conflict.
“Y/N, get back!” Superman shouted, his voice strained with panic as he saw Y/N unwittingly step into the path of a collapsing billboard that had been dislodged during the battle.
Time seemed to slow as Clark realized he wouldn’t reach Y/N in time, especially with his opponent actively trying to block his way. His heart pounded in his chest, fear gripping him like a vice. But just as the massive billboard was about to crush him, Y/N’s instincts kicked in.
Without even thinking, Y/N threw up his hands, and a powerful force field erupted around him, deflecting the billboard away and sending it crashing harmlessly to the ground. The magic burst out of him like a tidal wave, raw and unfiltered, saving him in the nick of time.
The impact of what had just happened hit Y/N all at once. He stood there, breathless and trembling, staring at the spot where the billboard had fallen. His heart raced as he realized how close he’d come to being crushed—and how easily he had saved himself with powers.
Superman, who had seen the entire event unfold, hovered in the air, momentarily stunned. His mind raced, trying to comprehend what he had just witnessed. Y/N had powers—real, undeniable powers. And in that instant, a dozen memories from their time together in Smallville flashed through his mind, moments that suddenly made sense in a new, startling way.
The villain took advantage of Superman’s distraction, launching one final attack. But Superman, fueled by a surge of determination, quickly regained focus. With a swift, powerful strike, he knocked the villain off his feet, sending him crashing to the ground, unconscious and defeated.
The battle was over, but the tension in the air was far from dissipated.
Superman landed softly on the ground, his eyes never leaving Y/N. The adrenaline from the fight was still coursing through him, but now it was mixed with a cocktail of emotions—shock, confusion, and something deeper, something more personal.
Y/N looked up, locking eyes with Superman for the first time. The two of them stood there, surrounded by the remnants of the battle, but it felt as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of them.
“Y/N,” Superman began, his voice uncharacteristically shaky. He took a step forward, but before he could say more, Lois and Jimmy rushed over, their faces a mix of concern and relief.
Superman took a step toward Y/N, his mind racing with questions, but before he could say more, Lois and Jimmy rushed over, their faces a mix of concern and urgency.
"Superman," Lois called out, her voice edged with urgency as she glanced around. "We’re in the middle of the street. People are starting to notice."
Jimmy nodded, his camera hanging by his side as he scanned the area. “Yeah, maybe we should take this somewhere a little less… public.”
Superman blinked, realizing the gravity of the situation. There were indeed a few onlookers, phones out, capturing the aftermath of the battle. The last thing he needed was more attention, especially with Y/N’s secret now out in the open.
He turned to Y/N, his eyes filled with both concern and determination. “Y/N, we need to talk. But not here. Do you trust me?”
Y/N, still shaken from everything that had happened, hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Yeah, I trust you.”
Superman gave him a small, reassuring smile before glancing back at Lois and Jimmy. “I’ll explain everything later, but right now, I need to get Y/N out of here.”
Lois gave a curt nod, understanding the need for discretion. “We’ll cover for you. Just… be careful.”
Jimmy shot Y/N a quick thumbs-up, though his expression was tinged with curiosity and concern. “We’ll handle the crowd. Go.”
With a final nod, Superman wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist, holding him securely. “Hold on tight.”
Before Y/N could fully process what was happening, they were airborne, the ground falling away as Superman lifted them into the sky. The wind rushed past them as they soared above the city, the chaos of the battle below quickly becoming a distant memory.
Y/N clung to Superman, his heart racing not just from the flight but from the whirlwind of emotions and revelations that had just unfolded. He had always admired Superman from afar, but now, being so close, knowing that this was Clark—it was almost too much to take in.
They flew in silence, the cityscape sprawling out beneath them, until finally, Superman began to descend, landing gently on the rooftop of the Daily Planet building. The iconic globe loomed above them, casting long shadows in the setting sun.
Superman set Y/N down carefully, stepping back to give him space. For a moment, they just stood there, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between them.
Clark, still in his Superman suit but with the familiar warmth of his old friend in his eyes, took a step closer. “I know. It’s a lot to take in. For both of us.”
Y/N nodded, his mind racing with a thousand questions. “So, you're Superman?”
A faint blush along with his nervous smile appeared on his face, a glimpse of the boy Y/N had known. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."
A moment of silence passed before Y/N spoke again, "I really don't get how people don't catch on faster. The only visible difference is the glasses," he said, gesturing to the frames on Clark's face.
Clark looked confused for a moment, "Wait, huh? Did you know?"
"Well, not for sure. But I had my suspicions. I mean, the glasses, the timing of your disappearances, the fact that you were never around whenever Superman showed up... it wasn't exactly hard to put the pieces together. But, I didn't know until I saw you up close. Until now, whenever you were Superman, I wasn't close enough to get a good look. Then, you were right in front of me, and well, it was like, 'Oh yeah, that makes complete sense,'" Y/N admitted, rambling a little.
"Oh," was all Clark could manage, a sheepish look on his face.
"Why did you never tell me?" Y/N asked, his voice soft.
Clark sighed, his expression conflicted. "I wanted to, believe me. But it's not exactly something I can just go around telling people. And after everything that happened back in Smallville, I didn't want to put you in any more danger. I guess, we were both keeping secrets."
Y/N paused for a moment, now realizing the irony of the situation before laughing under his breath, "Sneaky little bastard strikes again."
"Huh?"
"Nothing, just a little joke to myself," Y/N explained, before pausing and looking at his friend, taking in his entire superhero appearance, "Wow, looking at you now, and thinking back to everything, everything now makes so much sense."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you being able to stop cars without getting injured. Or people always calling your parents to ask for you when their tractor was broken down. And that time you and Suzy were playing in Old Man Ferris's field and he almost mowed her over with the shredder but you saved her and broke the shredder in the process. I always thought it was weird, but now, it's obvious," Y/N said, his tone a mixture of amusement and disbelief.
"I mean, it could've just been weak metal," Clark tried to argue, but the blush creeping up his neck betrayed his embarrassment.
"Clark, no offense, but anyone else verse that shredder would've been minced meat. And yet, one run-in with you and it had been totaled with no chance of repair. Which, did he ever get a new one?"
"Yeah, the town all chipped in to get him one while my parents got him insurance on it for a year as an apology."
"Hmm, you know for the amount of weird things that have gone on in that town between you and me alone, you'd think someone would've said something or freaked out," Y/N commented, shaking his head.
"Yeah, well, Smallville is a weird place," Clark chuckled, a hint of nostalgia in his voice.
"That it is," Y/N agreed, a fond smile tugging at his lips.
Clark cleared his throat while rubbing the back of his neck, "I guess things also make sense for you too. All those times that lights and power in school went out after you got angry, things disappearing and reappearing in random places, and that one time you got in an argument with a squirrel. Can you talk to animals with your powers?"
"Okay, first of all, we didn't have to bring that specific instance up. You remember everyone made fun of me for like a month after that happened. And either way, that squirrel had it coming," Y/N said, a slight pout on his face.
"It was a squirrel, Y/N."
"And it was a jerk!"
"How was it a jerk?"
"It kept throwing acorns at me and always running at me like it wanted to fight. I can't understand animals naturally unless there's a spell for it that I just haven't figured out, but they do seem to gravitate towards me for whatever reason. But, that squirrel had it out for me since freshman year and I was just trying to defend myself," Y/N argued, his voice taking on a slightly whiny tone.
"By arguing with it?"
"Well, yes," Y/N said, crossing his arms, "But, it was a very heated argument."
"If you say so," Clark laughed, his eyes bright with amusement.
Clark's laughter filled the air, and for a moment, it felt like they were back in Smallville, two friends joking around like they used to. But the reality of their situation quickly settled back in, and the weight of everything that had happened—everything that had been revealed—hung between them.
"So, magic," Clark said after a beat, his tone more serious. "I can't believe you were hiding that all these years."
Y/N shrugged, looking down at his feet. "It wasn't exactly something I could just go around telling people. Especially not in Smallville. I barely understood it myself, and my parents were terrified of what might happen if anyone found out. They were always worried that some government agency would swoop in and take me away if I ever slipped up."
Clark nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I get that. My parents had similar fears about me. We were both trying to protect each other, in our own way."
"Yeah," Y/N agreed quietly. He glanced up at Clark, a hesitant smile on his face. "It's kind of ironic, isn't it? Both of us with these...abilities and we never knew about each other."
Clark smiled back, but there was something in his eyes—something that made Y/N's heart skip a beat. "I wish I had known," Clark said softly. "Maybe things would have been different."
"Maybe," Y/N echoed, the word hanging in the air between them.
A comfortable silence settled over them, the kind that only old friends could share. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the city. Y/N found himself getting lost in the moment, in the quiet presence of his friend, the tension of the past few weeks slowly ebbing away.
But then Clark spoke again, his voice filled with an emotion that Y/N couldn't quite place. "You know, I've always felt like there was something more between us. Even back then."
Y/N's breath caught in his throat. He looked at Clark, his eyes searching his friend's face for any sign that he might be joking, but all he saw was sincerity. "What do you mean?"
Clark hesitated as if trying to find the right words. "I mean... I've always cared about you, Y/N. More than just as a friend."
The confession hung in the air, and Y/N's heart pounded in his chest. He had dreamed of hearing those words for so long, but now that they were here, he didn't know how to respond. His feelings for Clark had been buried deep for years, hidden away to protect both himself and their friendship.
"Clark, I..." Y/N began, but his voice faltered. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I care about you too. A lot. But this—" He gestured to the city below them, to Superman’s suit, to everything around them. "This is complicated. Our lives are so different now."
Clark stepped closer, his expression earnest. "I know it’s complicated. But maybe we can figure it out together."
Y/N looked into Clark's eyes, seeing the hope and the warmth there, and for a moment, he allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, they could make this work. He thought about all the things they had been through, the secrets they had kept, the bond that had never really broken despite the years and the distance.
He smiled softly, his heart finally settling into a steady rhythm. "I'd like that," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Clark's smile was brighter than the sunset behind him, and Y/N felt a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the fading sunlight. For the first time in a long while, things felt right. Complicated, yes, but right.
But before they could say anything more, the door to the rooftop burst open, and Lois and Jimmy came rushing in, both looking out of breath and a little frantic.
"Clark! Y/N!" Lois called out, her eyes wide as she took in the scene before her. "You guys okay? We’ve been looking everywhere for you."
"Yeah, we’re fine," Clark said, quickly stepping back from Y/N, though he couldn’t quite hide the smile on his face.
Jimmy glanced between the two of them, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "You know, you guys really should be more careful. The paparazzi would have a field day if they caught Superman having a heart-to-heart with some random guy on a rooftop."
Lois rolled her eyes but nodded in agreement. "He's right. We should get off this rooftop before someone spots us."
Clark looked at Y/N, his expression a mix of reluctance and agreement. "Yeah, you're right." He turned back to Y/N, his voice softening. "We'll talk more later, okay?"
Y/N nodded, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nervousness about what that conversation would bring. "Yeah, later."
With that, they all made their way back down to the city, where the chaos of the day had finally settled. But even as they stepped back into the world, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that something significant had shifted between them.
And for the first time, he was ready to see where it would lead.
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☀️ | Clark Kent/Superman | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
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