#undefeated at being defeated

[fatcatlittlebox]

From his point of view, she chose to do a lot of that stuff...it wasn't all my manipulation. It is within you. You want this." -- Charlie Vickers, (x)

[trashingfish]

I do wanna re-think on Malenia's flaw, being that she can't accept defeat. I still think that is her flaw. But with the new information that the DLC brings, I wanna think more on it

[pr0cyon-lotor]

AU where chess is a common strategy game in PIDW and SY is a chess master before he gets transmigrated. Like undefeated and well known in the community. He's probably popular even in mainstream social media because he's a pretty boy with a soft demeanor.

Of course he still reads PIDW and is a massive hater, but he now hides it because he sees it as shameful especially with his reputation of being a kind-hearted person.

Anyway he dies and gets thrown into the novel a bit after the Qing generation ascends. He's just a rogue cultivator or maybe even a demon, not really important. What's important is that he gets bored and misses his old hobby.

He finds out chess is a thing in this world and immediately hops into it again. Sadly, he keeps beating people and no one is a real challenge. So to give himself a puzzle, he picks up other strategy games and gets really good at them too. And after a few years, he is well known in PIWD with his skills in a variety of games.

Enter SJ. Fresh off getting LBH into his peak and STRESSED about how much he sees himself in this child and about how much he hates that fact.

He enters the Warm Red Pavilion and finds some guy playing a game with one of the jiejies. One of those little mind games to entertain the guests, and he's playing against the best one.

SJ watches while he waits for his room and to his surprise the man wins. He immediately gets ready to step in-between because whenever guests win against one of the prostitutes they always get handsy and he knows that particular one doesn't like to do sex work (like maybe she specializes in poetry and dancing instead yk).

Instead of the man getting handsy, he asks for another game, which she accepts with a smile. And now SJ is watching them play with much more interest. After a while the madam comes over and asks if he's interested in their regular.

SJ asks about the man and gets his name and finds out that apparently SY comes to the brothel to play against the ladies and listen to music at times.

SJ keeps it in mind and then leaves for his room. The next time he sees SY is during another trip down the mountain (probably dressed down to not draw attention to himself). This time he was in a tea shop playing go against an elderly man. SY wins again and patiently explains what mistakes the old man made.

The old man accepts defeat and asks him for a rematch. SY agrees, and SJ finally approaches out of curiosity. SJ asks if he can play SY after they're done. The old man says something about how he's probably going to lose anyway and says SJ just takes his turn.

SJ accepts it and sits in front of SY. He thinks it's going to be an easy win, something to stroke his bruised ego. Only for him to get completely annihilated like it was an embarrassing lost for him. (It wasn't embarrassing, he almost won, but he didn't win so obviously it was embarrassing)

SJ expects gloating and nearly crushes his fan in his hand. SY tells him that he was a tough opponent and he asks for another rematch. SJ is confused about the sincerity and hesitantly agrees even though his ego tells him to cut his losses now.

They continue to play multiple games in a row, each one getting longer and longer with each mistake SY explains and helps SJ fix (he doesn't even notice he's taking advice from a man). They continue playing and drinking tea until they're kicked out because the shop is closing.

SY laughs sheepishly and says he didn't even notice the time pass. He asks if SJ is free to play again because it's been the first time in years he's had that much fun against someone else. SJ agrees because he refuses to have a losing streak (and he found it a little fun too).

Eventually it becomes a routine, SJ comes down the mountain every week and plays SY in go until the establishment they're in kicks them out. And because his brain is constantly on how to beat SY, he starts neglecting other things (like abusive LBH and other duties).

And because he's neglecting duties, eventually he has to do a information collecting mission with Shang Qinghua. They arrive at the town and they're tasked with collecting information on a lead of a demon hiding within a festival.

Somehow this leads to SY joining their little info gathering group and finding out SQH is Airplane (he's still somehow unaware of SJ being SQQ because of course he is).

Shenanigans ensue and somehow a sting operation is set up with SY being used as bait. He manages to coerce the demon into a game of chess while he waits for SJ and SQH to arrive.

They play chess. He thinks he'll just stall until the two get there, but halfway through he moves his knight and it ends up near the demon's knight. And with a straight face, the demon takes both knights off the board while claiming "And they're both out for horsie marriage."

Right then SJ and SQH arrive to slay the demon, only to bare witness to SY doing the Xianxia equivalent of shooting the demon point blank with a Glock 19 because surprise surprise that bullshit move pissed off the chess master.

SJ says something sarcastic about not needing to save the damsel (they put) in distress. And then SY asks to speak to SQH privately while dragging him out by the ear.

He continues to interrogate the author because what the ACTUAL FUCK was that bullshit move?! And SQH defends himself by saying he never thought a professional chess player would ever read his stuff, much less play the game in-verse. He tells SY he thought it would be funny if that could happen.

Anyway.

SJ has to pry SY off SQH because he almost legitimately strangles him to death. SY is dragged away, screaming things that'd make even a demon blush, and admittedly, SJ is amused.

They end up in some tea shop, SY muttering about the idiocy of it all in English, and SJ ordering for both of them. He asks what got SY so mad since like this guy has had an unshakable pleasant demeanor until now.

SY makes up some story about how his hometown played chess differently and that he's realizing he doesn't know how chess is played anywhere else. He asks SJ for a guide for playing chess because he doesn't want to overreact like he did before.

SJ agrees in exchange for a guide of how his hometown played chess. The deal was made and after they came back to town they both write their manuals. They exchange them in their next meetup, and SY is muttering about how stupid some of the rules are. SJ finds it very funny as he reads the manual SY gave him, finding that he prefers his version since there was less unnecessary traps.

SJ eventually asks to play SY in a chess game once he understands his version. SY happily agrees and they play over and over again until SJ beat him. SY is over the moon and asks for another rematch, which he gets beaten again. They play a few more times wins alternating until SY grabs SJ's hands and tells him he's in love with him and his massive brain.

SJ is caught off guard and flustered, so he hits SY with his fan and calls him shameless as he leaves to preserve as much face as possible. SY whines about him being unfair and follows SJ while apologizing about the comment.

SJ ignores him and leaves SY alone. He thinks he fucked up until the next time they meet, and SJ brings him a book he been meaning to buy but just couldn't find. SY is about to comment on the gift but SJ shuts him up and hides his face behind his fan. He manages to see the smallest hint of a blush and (shockingly) understands.

They both start exchanging gifts each meetup in silent courting. And surprisingly he hasn't abused LBH since he got there (because he forgets to. he has a boyfriend to worry about thank you very much 🤨), so when the Conference comes, SJ doesn't throw LBH into the abyss.

He still ends up in the abyss but only because MF got thrown in when they encountered MBJ, and he jumped after his shixiong. SY is there because of course he wants to stop the evil scum villain from hurting his little lamb, but he's just standing there like

Because how else is he supposed to react to LBH throwing himself into the abyss to go after MF who was thrown in when they encountered MBJ. Was Ming Fan even supposed to be there????

Also why is SJ in such ornate robes. Why is he mourning? Why are they going back to Qing Jing? WHY IS NING YINGYING CALLING SHEN JIU BABA?! WHY IS EVERYONE CALLING HIM SHIZUN?!!!?!???

[heyimkana]

SO- uh kingdom and empires type of thing- Sacrificial bride reader with emperor jin-woo. To stop the wrath of the emperor on the small kingdom, the king gives his daughter (reader) to emperor as a sacrifice.

everyone things jin-woo is a cruel emperor and many rumors are going all around the world of his cruelty, so reader is sacred to the bone when she is before jin-woo. (He's just antisocial so he doesn't want to correct the rumors just like how rumors of him spread after jeju raid)

Jin-woo being SUCH A SWEETHEART and giving reader time and space even after their wedding. (He fell for reader) So whenever reader tries to get close or do any action to make their relationship more comfortable, jin-woo internally goes over the moon. (He's smithen for reader and I'm all for it)

OMGOMGOMG EMPEROR!JINWOO 😩 okay so I know you want to see some cute fluffy lovey-dovey scene and we'll get there trust me, but hear me out okay what if it started out like this:

WC: 1.1 K | Warnings: Murder, slight gore

With his long, silky smooth raven hair cascading past his shoulders, and his fringe falling over his eyes like a curtain, Emperor Sung Jinwoo is a sight to behold. His features are sharp and breathtakingly handsome, his body, sculpted by the Gods, swathed by black robe from shoulders to toe. He towers above others with his intimidating height, his gleaming purple eyes bestowing fear upon those who dare to stare back into them.

The emperor carries a dangerous air around him wherever he goes, his hair often tied in a high ponytail with two sheathed daggers resting on each side of his hip. He charges first during battles, despite being the most vital piece in the kingdom. Fearless and undefeated, his name echoes throughout the realms. Every victory he's brought home was all because of his strength. Every peace he'd attained was all because of the blood he'd shed. Death follows everywhere he walks, the soil drenched crimson beneath his feet.

Cold and distant, the young lord is very efficient with his words, which often leads to people misjudging his character. Some people perceive him as arrogant. Most people see him as cruel and merciless with the way he treats his prisoners, but no one knows that behind the gates of his palace, he's a gentleman who holds his family dearly, who seeks blood only to create a world where his young sister could walk freely without men leering at her from the shadows. He takes care of his dying mother so earnestly with the tenderness that rivaled her own, his touch so delicate as he washes her hair every morning, despite having his hands constantly soaked in his enemies' blood.

Jinwoo defeats and conquers other kingdoms, killing their leaders in cold blood in front of everyone to see. They don't know that behind the scenes, their king and his subordinates are nothing but a bunch of corrupted men who took advantage of their own people. They thought the emperor brought chaos to their land, but his knights knew the truth. It was justice.

Emperor Jinwoo doesn't do forgiveness. If there's a man who murders or steals on his watch, then they'll be executed on the spot. No trial, no second chances, nothing. He holds honesty, virtue, and loyalty above everything else. And tonight, in this small kingdom he steps inside, he finds none, and so, the old town is littered with corpses of those who dared to dishonor a lady or betrayed their own kin.

The King of this kingdom, who offers his daughter for Jinwoo to take in exchange for sparing his own life, makes his blood boil the most. How could a father, whose duty was to protect his family, be so willing to give up on his only child, just to live for another day?

"I'll take your daughter," Jinwoo says in response, his gaze falling on the maiden's face. She's gorgeous, the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, but that's just it. She can offer him nothing but her beauty and a woman's charm would never be enough to reignite the fire within him, to restore the piece of humanity that has grown thinner and thinner with every throat he slit with his dagger.

The maiden, of course, shows repulsed hatred toward him. For all she knows, Jinwoo is an invader, barging into her land one night and slaughtering every warrior in sight. But as a princess, she has a role to fulfill and one of those is to bring peace to her kingdom no matter what the cost. And if her purity and her womanhood could win the heart of the new dictator to bestow mercy upon them, then so be it.

She walks forward and stands before the young emperor who brazenly sits on her father's throne with his dark robe smeared with her knights' blood. Some of the scarlet has stained his fair cheek, but even then, he still appears divine in some ways. The princess takes a moment to stare Jinwoo right in the eyes, unfazed by his overwhelming aura. She makes sure he understands that despite being nothing but a gift for his hand to seize, she deserves every ounce of respect he could show her.

Jinwoo arches his brow at the challenge but then he finds himself smiling. He rises to his feet, practicing his courtesy. "Forgive me, Princess," he greets with a bow of his head, his voice rumbling low and deep as he introduces his name. It brings shivers down her spine in all the most exciting ways though she'd rather be beheaded than admit it aloud.

Only then does she perform her bow. Blazing fire resides in her eyes still, a sign that she won't be so easy to tame, but for the first time in his life, Jinwoo feels... thrilled. Because of what, he's not sure yet. But he figures he'll find out soon enough.

He asks for her name and she gives it to him through gritted teeth.

"Do you love your father, Princess?"

She's taken aback by the question. Out of all the things he could've asked her... "Yes, my lord," she answers, a second too late than she's supposed to.

Jinwoo's eyes linger on the faint bruise blooming on her skin. It circles her neck like a pair of hands crushing her windpipes. His eyes glow as his voice turns a pitch lower. "Even after what he's done to you?"

She swallows. She's steeled herself for this, but the terror coming solely from his gaze still creeps into her skin. "Yes."

His lips curve up again at her answer, and she ponders, how could a demon like him, smile so angelically?

Jinwoo then leans in close, his lips a breath away from her ear. "I hope you're a better fighter than you are a liar," he whispers.

There's a mix of confusion in her glare, but the emperor no longer pays attention to her. "Close your eyes, Princess," is the last thing he speaks before he addresses her father, who stands nervously before the audience. She does as she's told as it is her duty now to do whatever he commands her to do.

Seeing the emperor accepting his gift, a wicked, victorious grin emerges on the King's lips but that's the only thing he manages to do before his head rolls to the ground. Startled gasps and horrified shrieks ring throughout the hall but before the princess can open her eyes to witness the headless corpse falling to the ground, Jinwoo embraces her from behind. His fingers gently cover her eyes, letting her stay in the darkness, hoping it will comfort her the way it always comforts him.

"You're with me now, Princess," he murmurs in her ear, and it rattles her bones. "I'll take care of you."

It's a promise and a blessing, but for a woman who has lost all her kingdom, her dignity, and her entire family in one night, it feels like a curse.

"What are you going to do to me?" she asks with a shuddering breath, to which he says—

[dollbrbie]

ʚଓ HOW YOU MET MMA!SAE

more for this au ♥︎ ꒰ mma!sae ꒱

꒰ mma!sae ꒱ who is labelled in all the news and magazine outlets as the biggest rising mma star of your generation, rising quickly due to his current undefeated streak of 25 wins and holding the current middleweight championship title.

꒰ mma!sae ꒱ who is yet to lose a match with high profile and experienced fighters eager to fight him, determined to put the rising star in his place. and sae has always managed to defeat them regardless of their track record.

꒰ mma!sae ꒱ who you meet at an event, being invited due to friends of friends. for some reason, sae just can not keep his eyes off you, making his move when he sees you stood all on your own at the food stand. he couldn’t pass this up.

꒰ mma!sae ꒱ who introduces himself despite you already aware of him. he’s literally been all everyone’s talking about since he won the middleweight championship title, so you can’t help but feel your heart race at his presence.

꒰ mma!sae ꒱ who eventually finds out that you’re the ex girlfriend of the previous holder of championship sae had taken, a small smirk making way on his face until he hears the your casual comment about how toxic he was.

꒰ mma!sae ꒱ who you end up hitting it off with all night, spending the rest of your time at the event drinking cocktails with him by your side with sae ignoring whatever important talks he had to attend to just to stay with you.

꒰ mma!sae ꒱ who ultimately ends up taking you back to his hotel room, not wasting a second before kissing your lips while one hand rests on the back of your neck, the other stationed on the curve of your ass.

꒰ mma!sae ꒱ who is ravenous, taking off your silken black dress with hunger as he kisses along your shoulders, nibbling on your collar bone to make sure he leaves his mark on you like a territorial lion.

꒰ mma!sae ꒱ who eats you out before even thinking about fucking you, licking and sucking against your sensitive clit and glossy folds that are just begging for him to fuck you.

꒰ mma!sae ꒱ who then has you sat directly on his face, using his large hands to pull your hovering figure right onto his face when he sees your hesitation, “i thought i told you to sit.”

꒰ mma!sae ꒱ who eats you out like a starving man, so focused on chasing your pleasure. he’s making sure to pay attention to your moans and whimpers by hearing those high pitched sounds when he knows he’s hit the spot, causing your body to convulse in pure euphoria. this man knows what he’s doing.

꒰ mma!sae ꒱ who was far from done when he makes you cum on his tongue. he’s got you trapped beneath his toned body, fucking you with just so much passion. it was like he was worshipping you, no part of your body left untouched by him. sae just found you beyond beautiful.

꒰ mma!sae ꒱ who truly showed you the sex you should have been experiencing this whole time, incomparable to your ex or any other potential man you had been with before, his sweet praises talking you through your back to back orgasms.

꒰ mma!sae ꒱ who just couldn’t get enough of you, even after overstimulating you both by making you cum countless times, resting his forehead against yours as he feels his cock soften inside you, placing several chaste kiss on your lips.

꒰ mma!sae ꒱ who couldn’t help himself earlier when he heard your ex was the previous championship title holder, the sneaky idea coming into his head and to make sure he had his audio recording on while you screamed out his name so beautifully, telling him he’s the best you’ve ever had.

꒰ mma!sae ꒱ who may or may not have sent your ex boyfriend that audio recording of him fucking your brains out to which you may or may not have received a very nasty message from your ex afterwards. but oh well! why would you need him when you have sae who’s more than happy to show you why he’s the better man? he can’t believe that anyone could ever fumble you, and he’s pretty sure you already have him pussy whipped.

© dollbrbie | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

[ink-stainedkiss]

Boxer Katsuki Bakugo Headcannons ✧˖°

Boxer!Katsuki who finds it endearing that you research his opponents before his matches. While he doesn’t expect you, nor need you to, it shows how much you care about and support his career. In the car, if you give him a fact about the person he’s fighting, he’ll nod and accept the information. And sure, his manager and coach have already told him everything he needs to know, but he would never tell you that.

Boxer!Katsuki who always gets you into his games for free. No discussion. You walk in with the undefeated Dynamight, nobody is questioning you. The staff practically acts like you’re on the same level as Katsuki, but that’s because they know if they were to treat you rudely, Katsuki wouldn’t be too happy.

Boxer!Katsuki who lets you relax in his locker room. He loves practicing his moves while you watch, because you aren’t very subtle when you stare at his chest. Katsuki doesn’t complain though and he prides himself on how much you love his figure. He’ll add cocky comments now and then, telling you to quit gawking, but the threats are never truthful.

You sat on a foldable chair next to the wall of lockers as your boyfriend struck a large punching bag over and over. Sweat beaded down his forehead, making his blonde hair stick to the skin. Grunts and pants pushed their way out of his mouth and occasionally he would let out short growls. Even if you were ‘mindlessly scrolling on your phone’ you knew that Katsuki was sexy as hell. A smirk appeared on your face at the thought. Unknowingly, your boyfriend had caught you looking like a pervert at him and he slowed the swinging bag, raising a brow at your lost-in-thought face.

“Like what you see?” He teased from afar, noticing how you were torn from your thoughts and a small blush appeared on your face. You scoffed, going back to your phone that had turned off from lack of use,”I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He chuckled, obviously not believing you for a second,”You sure? ‘Cause it looks like you’re drooling over me.”

You looked up, glaring at the man, which he only found cute,”You’re clearly seeing things, maybe you want me to look at you.” Katsuki realized you wouldn’t accept your defeat and moved off of the platform, smirking as you didn’t look up from your screen. He removed one of his gloves and lifted your chin,”I’m just messing with you.” Before you could comment and deny, he locked his lips with yours, smiling just a bit as you melted against his mouth.

Boxer!Katsuki who doesn’t care if someone walks in during your guy’s make out sesh. You’ll stand next to him, blushing like crazy, and Katsuki won’t even bat an eye. He has his hand resting on your waist, listening to whatever the person had to say. He really doesn’t care about Pda and if he wants a kiss, he’s gonna get a kiss. In the beginning of your relationship, you often worried how the media would react to it, but after a certain game, Katsuki kissed you right in front of the cameras. He made it clear he didn’t give a shit what people thought about the two of you.

Boxer!Katsuki who finds it cute that you worry so much about him. He’s been boxing for years now and no one frets over his being as much as you do. When his manager tells him he has five minutes before entering the ring, he gives you a long kiss, then always expects you to tell him to be safe. If his opponent is known for being rough in the ring, then you are extra stressed out. You understand that there are paramedics for a reason and injuries are bound to happen, but you can’t stand to see Katsuki in pain.

Boxer!Katsuki who almost winds up late to the match because he forgets the time and can’t seem to leave without one more kiss. Though his manager gets annoyed, he could never ask you to leave, because if Katsuki heard of this, he would immediately drop him and find someone new to be his manager. Which wouldn’t be hard since people are already obsessed over his records and fame.

Boxer!Katsuki who searches for you in the crowd as he’s being introduced. Without failing, he’ll scan past the screaming and crazed fans and see you in the reserved area. Sometimes, you love having a little surprise for him as he walks out. Since he’s portrayed as a big bad boxer, you like making him chuckle by making large cardboard cutouts of his face and waving them around proudly.

Boxer!Katsuki who fights like an underdog coming to their senses and finally realizing their strength. And it’s all for you. He hits hard and fast, making sure when the ref breaks them up, he sneaks a glance at you and your astonished face.

Boxer!Katsuki who if he does end up with a small injury after the fight, like a nose bleed or his face burning up, never goes to the provided nurses, instead he lets you take care of him. Before you met Katsuki you had taken some medical classes for small things and injuries, so he sees you as a perfect nurse for him.

You had been sitting in the locker room for a while now, resting in the nicer area with a small tv and a large couch. When the door opened, you quickly looked over, gasping softly as you took notice of your boyfriend. He was wearing a bedazzled robe with his title on the back and still in his gloves but you were only focusing on the scarlet liquid dripping from his nose. Instantly you rise from the couch, grabbing his hand and yanking him to the wash room,”I didn’t see your nose start bleeding out there.”

He had a lazy smile as you walked around the bathroom, taking immediate action for something so small,”It started in the hallway and I knew you would help me.” You huffed, knowing he could easily clean it himself, but he needed you to do it. Although, you would be lying if you said you didn’t love seeing him watch you with such adoring eyes.

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed and you retried a small cotton pad and alcohol. You got to work, using the dry gauze to soak up any of the fresh blood,”You did good out there.” The boxer chuckled under his breath, wrapping an arm around your waist to drag you closer,”Just good?” You tossed the cotton into a small bin beside the two of you, smirking at his words,”Well, I can’t boost your ego that much.”

The blonde’s grin grew and leaned in for a kiss, but you put a finger up, pushing him away,”You still have blood all over you.” He frowned, suddenly not liking his bloodied nose. Fortunately for Katsuki, it didn’t take long for you to wipe away the dried substance that had gotten as far as his collarbone.

Once you were done, you put away the supplies and finally you cupped his cheeks, pulling him into a slow kiss. Alas, it didn’t last long as you felt his face was hot to the touch.

Boxer!Katsuki who rested his head in your lap, a cold rag across his forehead, and talked on about the fight from his perspective. You watched him dreamily, humming in response to his words, and you played with his messy golden locks. All you could really think about was how the media would react if they found out their scary champion, who had just K.O’d his opponent an hour earlier, enjoyed being pampered by his loving girlfriend.

[blackynsupremacy]

ARE WE STILL

FRIENDS?

pairing: smallville!clark kent x black!fem!reader

fandom: smallville (2001-2011)

summary: as a junior at smallville high, you’re known as many things: captain of the girl’s basketball team, straight a-student, a bit of a tomboy, and the younger sister of pete ross by three minutes. as twins, you share many things, including your childhood best friend, clark kent. prom is nearing soon and you’re both dateless, so you and clark agree to arrive together as friends. after the view of a yellow dress, a slow dance, and a moment in the photo booth, you start to doubt if you’ll both leave the same way you came.

a/n: you can imagine jeremy as whoever you want.

contains: lots of words. fluff, brother’s best friend trope, reader is pete’s twin sister, reader knows, angst, mild swearing, arguing, friends to lovers, kissing/making out, hurt/comfort, love confession, clana is broken up, jealousy, betrayal.

a/n: finally another clark fic! anybody got ideas for tsay chapter 5? i want it to be action packed fr.

taglist: @afrogirl3005 @rosiestalez @paisholotus @sabrinasopposite @stereotypicalbarbie @ellethespaceunicorn @hnch33rios @xoxoglittergossip @thabiddie23 @sheydnni @tryingtograspctrl @elitesanjisimp @jkr820 @simply-the-best23 @camiesully @supaprettyg

“come on, kent! is that all you got?”

you were taunting him as he tried to guard you from making the winning shot of your one v. one basketball game on kent farm. clark kent may have been six-foot-four with a strapping athletic build, but he wasn’t the captain of smallville high’s lady crows basketball team. due to your skill, leadership, and strategy, your girls have had an undefeated season so far. you continue to dribble and swiftly turn around to catch clark off guard before you jump to shoot the basketball which dove perfectly within the net. clark exasperatedly chuckles while you break down into an enthusiastic shimmy of a victory dance. your twin brother, pete ross, shook his head with a smirk after observing clark’s defeat. you both knew that for an exceptional farm boy that hailed from another planet couldn’t even school you on the court, had to mean something was off. in these playful competitions, you’ve had your fair share of wins with clark, but also definitely some losses. with a slow clap of his hands, pete approached clark to pat him on the back in playful sympathy,

“damn. it looks like you’ve lost your mojo, clark.” he quipped.

you and clark playfully roll your eyes. you sauntered to your brother and flick him in the forehead before you sassily chimed in,

“boy, shut up! you do realize that even clark can lose to me, right?”

“hey—ow! i’m just saying. clark, could’ve super sped around you and easily taken that shot.” he yelped in pain. clark chuckled before contributing to the conversation,

“first of all, pete, that would be cheating. second, my focus has been everywhere with prom coming up this weekend. you’re still going with me, aren’t you, pete?”

clark stretched his arms and you didn’t miss the slight flex of the bulging biceps he possessed. you always thought he was attractive, smart, and overall the perfect candidate for a boyfriend, but there was already so many complications entailed in that. first, there was the principle that he was your friend and your brother’s best friend. you basically grew up together, so you always thought lines like that should never be crossed no matter how much your heart desired for him at times. second, there was lana lang, clark’s first love. lana and clark’s relationship was complicated as well. one minute they’re together in perfect loving bliss, then the next, it’s back to being friends. this time, they were back to friend zone for a long while. lana was a friend of yours along with chloe. it was odd being tight with girls you knew had feelings for the same guy as you, but somehow, you try not to let that cause a rift between you. plus, you’re starting to develop a new crush on this guy named, jeremy ford. he was a senior and the captain of the boy’s basketball team. you’ve had opportunities where you would practice with him one on one after school and hang out at the talon occasionally to share strategies to help out your teams. he was handsome, athletic, funny, popular, and a scholar, so you’ve figured that he would be perfect as your date to the prom. when you get the chance this week, you were finally going to ask him. lastly, there was the fact that you knew clark’s secret along with your brother.

you’ve never forgotten that shift in your friendship with clark after finding that ship in his shed. it all made sense on how he was able to get to places so fast and subdue the people who were powered by those damned green rocks. pete already had to deal with clark having the attention of chloe and him being friends with their long-time family enemy, lex luthor. it was such a shock to you, but unlike those others who had powers and abused them, you knew that clark only wanted to use his abilities for good. to clark’s relief, you were quicker to forgive and swear to secrecy than your brother who eventually came around.

“thanks, y/n. i knew i could count on you to understand.” clark said when you visited him in loft the night after finding out. “at least you can consider yourself the first girl to know—besides my mom, of course!” he’d joke and for some reason that made you feel special.

now, your bond was stronger as you had to show that he was still the boy you called a good friend whose ass you’d occasionally kick in some hoops, but another part of you knew that things could be riskier than before with all of the bizarre occurrences of smallville.

“about that—” pete hesitantly stated, rubbing the back of his neck. “teresa campbell asked me last week, man. i know that ever since you and lana split, we’d make it a stag night, but we can all still go as a group. as far as i know, it could be me, you, teresa, and y/n.” he explained cringing a bit at the look of slight disappointment on clark’s face. you were a bit peeved that pete had sideswiped clark like that and that he assumed you were dateless. well, you were, but just because you were twins didn’t mean he fully knew you and your plans.

“it’s no worries, man. we can all still have a great time. right, y/n?” clark inquired, shifting his blue eyes on figure and he bounced the basketball in your direction.

“yeah, but, whose to say i didn’t already have a date, pete? we may be twins, but i don’t have to tell you everything.” you rebutted with a sharp glare towards your brother, catching the ball and placing it on your hip. pete threw his hands up in surrender,

“now, hold up, n/n. the last time i checked you never mentioned him, okay? look, i’m sorry for assuming. who’d you have in mind?”

your bashfully shift your eyes between the two awaiting males before you answer,

“uh,— jeremy ford.”

you were a bit shocked as there was a pause of silence. like there was something you didn’t know. you sighed ready for whatever was about to come,

“what is it now?”

clark held onto your shoulders and turned you to face him to deliver the news in the most gentle, but direct manner possible.

“y/n, lana is going to prom with jeremy.”

you stood there in silence, trying to register the words that were spoken to you. maybe this was sick prank the guys were playing on you to hurt your already bruised ego.

“what? psh, no way. lana would’ve told me.” you deny, dismissing what you thought was a ludacris claim.

pete shook his head and crossed his arms before serving the explanation of the knowledge. given the fact they lived together, lana had told chloe that jeremy had been hanging around late at the talon after you’d leave. eventually, he and lana got to know each other and before they knew it, lana agreed to jeremy’s proposal of prom. then chloe passed the news on to clark and pete. as an aspiring journalist, chloe was going to get it straight from a reliable source, so it all had to be true.

chloe and lana knew for a fact that you had a crush on him and they’d tease you to just go for it, but you’d always dismiss them with the excuse of focusing on your studies to achieve a full-ride athletic scholarship. plus, you’ve never really had that much dating experience to begin with, so it was all a bit of a mess. pete and clark could see the dark cloud of hurt loom over your face. there was a stabbing, tingling pain within your gut. you thought that you and jeremy would be the perfect match. you both shared the same goals and interests, how could you have missed the signs of lost chances? what else were you expecting? lana had already dated clark, but no human nor alien had control over their feelings. it would’ve hurt a little less if lana gave you a head’s up. possibly she was afraid of how you would’ve react or affected your friendship. you never wanted to be the type of girl to end friendships over a crush anyway.

“n/n, say something. are you oka—” clark began to question, but you sharply cut him off.

“i’m fine, clark. lana and jeremy can do what they want, it’s not like he was my boyfriend or anything. what about you? lana is your ex.” clark watched in silence as you tried to play it off so cool, but it didn’t take his x-ray vision to see that you were crushed on the inside. he believed you didn’t deserve this at all. you’ve always been a great friend to him and lana. sometimes, you’d give him advice or a listening ear whenever there was a conflict weighing on him. you were the type of person that gave their all. you gave your all in your sport, teammates, academics, family, and friends. who was giving something back to you?

without another word, you looked at your watch and turned to your brother,

“it’s about time we head home, pete. mom will be calling if we don’t make it in time for dinner.— see you at school, clark?” you bid him a goodbye with a tight lipped smile and a side hug before placing the basketball back in his arms. you cross your arms and make your way into the passenger seat of pete’s car. the boys give each other a silent knowing glance and a casual dap of farewell before pete follows suit to drive you both back home. during dinner, your parents, abigail and bill ross, noticed that you weren’t your usual talkative self due to your obvious lack of appetite and dry responses to their questions about your day. when your mother mentioned the prom, you promptly asked to be excused to your bedroom, so that you could “study”. you wrapped up your plate, placed it in the fridge, and took your leave. once in your room, you didn’t waste time in plopping yourself into your bed. you bury your face into your pillow to muffle your sobs of agony. romance looked so good in the movies you’ve watched, but why did it have to hurt so bad in reality?

you lay on your side, facing the large, purple stuffed bear that sat on your other pillow. you sat up and smiled at it fondly. you picked it up and gave it a tight squeeze. clark had won it for you at the smallville harvest festival during your freshman year. it was one of those carnival games where you had to get three basketball shots in a row. you were just a rookie on the team and you were struggling because you wanted that bear so badly. clark happened to be there to watch the whole thing and like a superboy, he swooped in and made those three shots. there was a jovial glint within his baby blue eyes as he observed you spinning with the bear in your arms like a little child. you were so happy that you thought you could kiss him that day. clark simply saw you in a jam and was kind enough to help. that was when you started developing feelings. even though he was your brother’s best friend, you’d grown to see him as a prince charming of sorts. he had his flaws, but he always found a way to make it up somehow. your thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice. it was his voice.

“there’s that smile i like to see.” you quickly wiped away your tears and whipped your head in his direction. there was clark kent, casually leaning against your door frame

“clark! uh, hey. what are you doing here? look, if you need to see pete, i think he’s in the den playing that game—” you try to explain, but he interrupted as he took his body away from the door and approached closer to your bed.

“actually, i came by to see you, y/n. may i?” you nod, acknowledging his request to sit on your bed. you nod, scooting over to make room and he proceeds to sit at your side. you gaze at his side profile. his perfectly fine nose, sculpted jawline, and who could miss the subtle pout in his naturally pink lips. now, his eyes met yours. the melanated skin of your cheeks begin to heat up the longer he held eye contact. there was an air of silence in the room. you were both deciding who should be the first to speak amidst this high school prom drama. clark then glanced at the stuffed bear in your arms, he tried not to blush as he was surprised that you kept it all of these years. he noticed how you held onto it with such a tight grip as if someone were to take it away at any moment. how wholesome he found that to be. a lopsided smile played on his lips as he spoke,

“you still kept that bear after all these years?”

you sniffled with a bashful chuckle,

“yeah, it seems so embarrassing. i’m pushing eighteen, but it’s my favorite thing—well, besides my backstreet boys t-shirt.” you both fill the room with soft laughter, enjoying each other’s presence.

“no, no. not embarrassing. it’s humiliating, actually—hey, ahaha!” clark jokes in which that earns him a couple whacks in the head from your pillow. your stomach cramps as you dissolve into laughter again,

“god, you’re such an ass! you just love to ruin the moment.” you giggle, trying to catch your breath. you place the pillow to its original spot. clark flashes his pearly canines and leans back onto your bed.

“as long as i get to see you cry tears of joy instead of sadness, i’d gladly do it again.” he responds, gingerly reaching a hand towards your face to swipe a loose tear with his thumb. your cheeks heat up again as your stomach flips from his touch.

“i know today wasn’t exactly the greatest, but it’s good to hear you laugh, y/n.”

your own lopsided grin graces your features before you shift your gaze to the bear,

“i appreciate it, clark. you’re always swooping in to save the day, whether it’d be meteor freaks or teenage heartbreak.”

there was another beat of silence. before practically speeding to the ross house, clark couldn’t erase the image of your somber expression from his mind. this was everyone’s first prom and even though clark didn’t get the chance to go with lana, he didn’t want to experience it on a sour note. now that you were down in the dumps, he definitely didn’t want you to have that same feeling. he didn’t want you to look back on such a significant event with disdain, so he came over and took his chance.

“y/n, would you go to prom with me—as my date?”

upon hearing his question, you froze for a second before peering at the farm boy beside you. you were in a tough spot, sure, but you didn’t want to be his pity date, no matter how much you liked him.

“what?! clark—i know i seemed pretty tight about the jeremy thing, but i don’t want your pity. we can just go as a group of friends with pete and teresa. just like he planned.” you protested, but clark took ahold of your hands as the expression of sincerity etched on his face.

“y/n, please, just hear me out,” he urged, caressing his thumbs along your hands. “i promise you, it’s not pity. i genuinely want to spend time with you and i want us to enjoy our first prom.” you fell silent as your gaze softened while listening to his plea, “we could make it one of the best nights of our lives, even if it’s just for a little while—besides, who better to go to prom with than the best victory dancer i know?”

yet again, he flashed his contagious smile that you’ve silently adored for years as a twinkle danced within his eyes. you pondered on this impromptu proposal. clark had a point, this was going to be your first prom, an awaited moment in most teenaged girls lives that they would look back on in the future. you wanted to have a good time regardless of the jeremy situation. plus, if you accept, you’d have a date with your longtime crush! your brother’s best friend of all people. you were going as friends of course, but you couldn’t imagine this moment with anyone else. what could possibly go wrong? a smile you couldn’t contain plays on your full lips as your brown eyes matched his gaze before you finally said,

“you know what? i’d love to clark!”

“you would? really?”

“yes. we’ll come in together as friends, let loose, and bust a move or two.” you answer already envisioning the pleasant evening ahead. “why? do you want me to take back my answer?” you jokingly quiz with an arched brow.

“oh, n-no, no! i’m actually really glad you said yes.” he protested with relief washing over his features.

“then it’s a date, kent!” you take one of your hands to rest it on his shoulder before placing a brief kiss upon his cheek before you whisper, “you got super speed, so don’t i expect you to be late.”

clark’s cheeks flushed with the red shade of excitement from your touch. he surely didn’t expect that from you, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain.

“well, in that case, i’ll pick you up at seven, ross.”

clark bids you goodnight and you could hardly sleep with the knowledge of this upcoming weekend. the very next morning at the breakfast table, your parents are ecstatic to learn the news of your plans for prom, especially your mother. you both enthusiastically converse, conjuring up ideas of a dress, shoes, accessories, makeup, and hair. she helps to make the necessary appointments for the days leading up to it. while at school, you decided to stick around to clark, pete, or fly solo rather than you usually did with chloe and lana. you would be cordial when you see them in the hallway, but before they could talk about prom, you’d find a way to promptly excuse yourself. the last thing you wanted to hear was anything about lana and jeremy. you didn’t want to hear the conversation as if they didn’t know that you know.

“i gotta go. i have a meeting with my coach.”

“can’t. i don’t wanna be late for class!”

even when jeremy tried to catch you in the hallway. you’d gave him the same energy,

“i can’t go to the talon today, jere. i have an appointment after school.”

“i think i’ll just practice solo today.”

with each passing day after school, your mother had taken you shopping to find the dress that was perfectly made for you along with getting a well deserved mani-pedi and an eyebrow wax. she would just help with hair and makeup on the day of. your mother doted on you every step of the way. you couldn’t forget how you had to ask the dress shop employee for kleenex because she was going to burst into tears when saw you in the dress you’ve chosen. you were shocked because this was abigail ross, the no nonsense county judge of smallville that fights for justice with an iron fist. you weren’t really big on dresses in general, but for this occasion with clark, you wanted him to see that you were more than pete’s twin.

the early evening of prom makes its presence known. throughout the entire day, your stomach rumbles with an immense amount of anxiety and piquancy. you burst out into a song while taking your shower, a soft muffled hum fills the bathroom when you brush your teeth. as your mother helps you to get ready, she affirms your beauty with each dab and blend of the cosmetics applied to your face. her gifted hands gingerly work through the coiled tresses of your dark hair in the desired style that you’ve seen one of your favorite singers sport in a magazine. as if it were like a cinderella-esque transformation, your final look was completed once you’ve donned your dress, jewelry, and heels. it was finally time for one of the best nights of your life.

clark stands at the front door of the ross house. he’s not sure how many times he’s been fidgeting with his black bow tie or glancing down at the freshly arranged corsage within the plastic container, but he knows one thing for a fact.

he was nervous.

he’s been looking forward to this all week. it was a casual plan set up by two friends, but why did he feel like he was going to mess everything up? were things going to change between you and him like how it did with him and lana? or him and chloe? he was psyching himself out, but he needed to swallow whatever doubt he had and just enjoy this like a somewhat normal teenager would, especially with someone he enjoyed spending time with. with a steady hand, his knuckles raise to knock on the front door to which pete answers within seconds. they perform their casual greeting with a hello and a dap.

“hey, clark! you’re right on time. i see you styling with the corsage.” pete joked to which clark chuckled as he invited clark to step in the living room.

“i’d sure hate to disappoint your sister, so thanks! it’s still cool with you that she’s my date, right?” clark questioned, a trace of timidity within his voice. when he first told pete about being your date, he’d surely thought his friend would tell him off by crossing that boundary. to clark’s surprise, pete took the news well.

“yeah, man! she’s been looking forward to this all week. besides, you’re going as friends, so it’s not anything that i’m worried about. my mom’s up there with her now, so she should be down in a few.” pete replied, standing coolly with his hands tucked in his pockets.

they compliment each other on their respective ensembles before clark’s eyes peruses the room. his sensitive ears pick up on the sound of the bustling, grating voices of the other ross brothers who had came to visit to see the twins off for their first prom. mark, mike, and sam along with your father all hurry to the living room to greet clark with more daps and hugs as if clark were their own. it seemed that every ross had made an appearance, all except for you. abigail hurriedly came down the staircase. she frantically waved her hands to signal for the men to keep their voices down as you were about to make your grand entrance. she turns to clark with an elated expression,

“clark, i’m so glad you’ve made it. she’s all done and ready.” your mother pauses, turning her head up to the staircase to call out your name.

“honey, clark’s here! let’s see you, so you don’t be late!”

after a sixty second beat of silence, the sound of your heels reverberated through the air as you descended from the staircase. every head turned in your direction. clark’s soft blue gaze didn’t dare to pull away as you reached the bottom of the steps. you were front and center. you were the belle of the ball. he stared in awe with his mouth slightly agape as you wore a lemon, satin maxi dress that accentuated the warm toned glow of your brown skin. it had a heavy hearted cut in the front while it exposed the skin of your back like a halter top. the garment complimented your figure perfectly and matched with the golden hoop earrings your mother let you borrow. the soft makeup that was applied to your features made each of them stand out. the sleek mascara, shimmering eyeshadow and the luminous pink gloss painted on your pouty lips made you look like you’ve walked out of a magazine. even though you received the warm gazes and compliments of your parents and brothers, you were still awaiting for what clark had to say. he only stood there staring at you as if he were trying to silently analyze a piece in an art museum. he looked so dashing in the sleek, noir tux that he wore. his physique had grown to be bulkier over the years, so you certainly didn’t miss the toned outline of his body. you gave him your full attention as he softly called out your name. you spectated as he deliberately approached you. his adam’s apple bobbed within his throat and he gulped, so that he didn’t fumble over what he had to say because he meant the next words that escaped from his mouth,

“you’re so beautiful.” he proclaims, to which your family coos. he easily opens the plastic container that withheld the corsage and holds his palm out for you place your wrist in. there was a certain spark that you weren’t sure that both of you felt when his fingers brushed against your skin as he slid the floral accessory on your wrist. his soft grip on your wrist lingered as you know that he can hear your heart racing within your chest, but he’d never call you out because he didn’t want to embarrass you. with the widest smile you reply with a tone of gratitude,

“thank you, clark! you look handsome as always.” his expression matches yours and he thanks you for the compliment before your mother urges you both to pose for some pictures. after some photographs and a wise talk of safety, you all bid your family goodbye. pete had to leave to go pick up teresa in his car, so it was only fair that you’d ride with clark. with your hand wrapped around clark’s bicep, he leads you to the faithful, red pickup truck that you’ve ridden in on several occasions, but now you look at it as your awaiting chariot while clark opens the passenger side for you to sit and safely buckle in.

after a brisk ride of small talk, wise cracking, and car karaoke, he pulls into the student parking lot where students who were dressed to impress were flooding towards the entrance to get into the gym. you sat there hesitantly, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding. at the sound, clark turns his eyes to the glowing profile of your fretting countenance. he can already tell that you’re internally freaking out. you haven’t really talked to lana nor jeremy all week and now what were you going to do if you ran into them? you couldn’t make too many excuses to avoid them in this situation. with a gentle hand, clark reaches over to intertwine your fingers together.

“hey—look at me.” his tenor voice softly urges. you reluctantly look at the signature benevolent, blue gaze of your best friend. you hate how weak it makes you when clark holds such intense eye contact, he means business.

“you’re going to have a great time, y/n. whatever worry is going on in your head right now, forget about it just for tonight. would you do that for me?”

“that’s not fair, clark. you know i’d do anything for you.” you both dissolve into a fit of laughter. when it dies down, you squeeze onto his hand and unbuckle your seatbelt before turning to him again, “what are you waiting for, kent? you said i was gonna have a great time, so show me a great time.”

with a grin of anticipation on his lips, he briefly releases your hand to exit the drivers’ seat and open the passenger in which your hand is instantly reunited with his. you both stroll together through the entrance, down the hallway, and into the wide, dark gym that was illuminated by colorful lights, the pumped up bass of the music playing through the stereo, and the multitude of conversations between your classmates. your brown eyes darted around the area. you see there was some tables, a couple of them were filled with concessions. there was even a line forming for what seemed to be a photo booth, in which you keep a mental note for it because you want a stab at it before you go.

most of their talking is ceased when they saw you two walking arm in arm, their eyes observed you two in awe the further you both stepped in. at first, you were starting to feel awkward under the several pairs of eyes on you. were these looks also varying in curiosity? admiration? envy? they expected clark to clean up well, but as for you, they were stunned to see the tomboyish basketball captain pop out as if she was tyra banks. although he didn’t want to seem too arrogant, clark experienced a mix of satisfaction and jealousy from the attention you were getting, especially from some of the guys. especially from jeremy, who was at first enthusiastically conversing with lana until he saw what all the commotion was about: you. piqued, jeremy peered at you from across the room as you were caught off guard when clark instinctively, yet smoothly snaked an arm around your waist to bring you closer.

“it’s okay. they’re just experiencing true beauty for the first time, it’s a very common reaction.” he wittily said with a cheeky smile. with a heated face, you looked at your friend, still convincing yourself of his status in your life, that just blatantly called you beautiful again. was this real life? he even clung to you as if one of these dudes would sweep you away. you were sure, he would instantly approach lana at the mere sight of her.

within a minute or two, pete and his date, teresa, meet you guys at the side of the dance floor. you instantly hit it off with your brother’s date as you two enthusiastically compliment each other on your dresses and engage in small girl talk. clark felt lucky that he had the prettiest girl on his arm tonight. he wasn’t sure why, but that was all he could he see you as right now. not the athlete, nor his best friend’s sister. he just saw you, y/n ross, in her element. the more he carried on in casual conversation with you, the more drawn in he seemed to be by your presence. it warmed his heart to be called your friend or — so he thought. it was all coming together when the upbeat tempo of the music shifted to something that presented an opportunity for you and clark to know each other better like you haven’t before.

the iconic opening notes of the piano from des’ree’s “kissing you” began to fill the room as couples swiftly gather together to the dance floor. when you listen to the songstress’ soprano voice, the butterflies in your stomach are frolicking when you see clark’s open palm before you. you loved this song. it was from the soundtrack of romeo + juliet, film about a forbidden love, a line crossed. why were you having these thoughts? you were just friends, it would just be a dance. nothing less, nothing more.

“may i have this dance? out of the many abilities i have, two left feet isn’t one of them, so i got you.” he lightly smiles, awaiting for your answer. he attentively watches as you rub your glossed lips together, a habit of your nervousness. you turn to him. in this moment, there was no thought of lana, nor jeremy. there was no thought of heartbreak, and certainly no inhibitions. without hesitation, you grasp his hand before meeting his gaze.

“you may, just don’t step on my toes. this pedicure wasn’t cheap!” you whisper with soft laughter following from you both before he leads you to the dance floor. when you find your place, his eyes don’t leave yours when he takes your hands to rest on his broad shoulders while his rest on your waist. his thumbs barely graze against the exposed skin of your back as his feet lead you both to sway so easily to the orchestral sound of the ballad. the world outside fades, leaving only the warmth of his presence. you find solace as you feel the soft press of his hands on your waist, the comforting weight of his fingers resting just above the curve of your hips. your fingers wrap a little tighter around his neck to the point where your fingertips graze against the nape where part of his dark curls flawlessly cascade. you’re not tripping, there’s an undeniable electricity between you when your bodies absentmindedly draw closer while you continue to engage in this “platonic” dance.

“you sure you can keep up?” clark teases, a playful glint in his eyes, breaking the silence as you sway together. the light catches his pearly smile, his pristine canines illuminating from the way he looks at you—as if you were more than what you’ve always seemed to be in his life. you giggle, feeling the deliberate rhythm pull you even closer.

“boy, please. if i can break your ankles on the court, i can have you twirling like a ballerina on this dance floor, trust.” you saucily yet softly quip, your heartbeat growing as the vocal riffs of des’ree grow more passionate. with each step on the floor, clark guides you effortlessly, his movements confident yet unhurried, as if savoring every moment like it’s the last dance of the night. more like the last night of your lives.

“alright, n/n, just don’t get too dizzy on me,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. you were sure he could feel the goosebumps forming on your skin. you’re so sprung in the sway of his words and the gentle pulse of the music, the outside world completely forgotten. he even takes the opportunity to release one of your hands from his shoulder to smoothly spin you around at the bridge. when you come back, your body is flush against his. you’re basically heart to heart at this point. you don’t even notice the speculating eyes that burned into you. you don’t even notice the look of realization that dawned upon clark, lana, and pete: you were obviously in love with clark kent and it wasn’t just now. it’s been brewing within your heart for years. the weight of reality seems to dissipate, leaving behind only the two of you and this connection beyond friendship that felt so real. his powder blue gaze locked on yours, an unspoken spark flickering between you.

“you know,” he begins, his voice lowers as if he just wanted you to hear what he had to say. like your own little secret, “i’d never thought that finding ourselves dancing like this would feel so—perfect. like out of a movie or something.”

you tilt your head slightly, the air between you shifted as you reply softly, “it really does, doesn’t it? plus, i love this song. it’s from one of my favorite movies.” his thumbs brush against your bare back, igniting a warmth that spreads through your absolute everything. he gulps, getting himself together for what he’s about to say next,

“between you and me—i’d either rewind to this part over and over, or i wouldn’t want the movie to end at all.”

the pale skin of clark’s face paint with a shade of crimson as you lose yourselves in each other’s eyes, the last notes of the song begin to fade. you find yourselves leaning in closer and closer. was this actually happening? in front of lana? in front of your brother? were you both going to—reality creeps back in, the echo of the final chord concludes this ethereal moment. yet, in that fleeting instant, it feels as if time has stood still—if only for a little while. as the final note lingers in the air. you pull back slightly, just enough to read the mixture of emotions in his eyes—surprise, contentment, and something deeper lurking beneath the surface. you clear your throat and join in the applause of the crowd of students when the music instantly reverts back to the vibe of something upbeat to rock with. you clark retire yourselves to sit at one of the empty tables as you were complaining about your feet hurting from the heels you’ve been wearing. being the gentleman that he was, he helps to release your ailing feet from the shoes before venturing off to use the restroom and get some refreshments from the concession table.

while you were occupied massaging your feet, you now feel the presence of two beings sit at each side of you. you just assume it’s your brother coming to rag on you.

“pete, if you’re here to rub in my face about how i shouldn’t have worn heels this high, i will literally bop you with one.” you sass, still looking down until hear familiar feminine chuckles.

“if that’s the case, then i wouldn’t dare to say a word!” you know that quick and precise wit to be none other than your friend, chloe sullivan. you froze and turn your head to see her sitting on your right with lana lang on your left. they both looked radiant in their evening gowns as if they were contestants in a beauty pageant, especially lana. your mood starts to shift once you remembered why you avoided them in the first place. you were praying to god that clark could use his kryptonian speed to rescue you from this awkward situation.

“hey, guys. long time, no see.” you neutrally greet as you place the heels back on.

“long time, no see indeed. it feels like you haven’t had the time to be around us lately—we miss you!” lana mentioned, placing a manicured hand on your knee. what gives her the right to touch you after what she’s done. you were gonna keep your cool because clark should be back any minute now.

“yeah, i’ve just been working to get this full-ride and trying to get ready for tonight. i never knew how much time that would take.” you quip, earning a chuckle from both of the girls.

“well, it looks like it all paid off— you look beautiful!” chloe says flashing her pearly smile, a twinkle within her green eyes as lana nods in agreement. although you were peeved with them, you couldn’t help, but to smile at her compliment.

“i appreciate it, guys. ya’ll look great, too.”

there was a few beats of silence, lana finally removes her hand from your knee and twiddles with her fingers. with the clearing of her throat, she addresses the elephant in the room,

“so—um, it looks like you came with clark tonight. how did your brother take that?” you shoot her a side glance and lean back within your seat, glancing at the corsage on your wrist.

“pete’s cool with it. clark and i just happened to be dateless and he asked me to go with him. we’re just here as friends, of course.” you shrug.

“oh really, now?” she further questioned.

after the slow dance, all three of you found it bit hard to believe when you brought that up. something in lana faltered when she heard that clark had asked you. there was that pressure weighing in her stomach and chest, when she swallowed it felt like there was a lump. her hands gripped onto the fabric of her dress as she was trying to keep her facial expression as normal as possible. you didn’t miss the trace of jealousy within her hazel gaze. if that’s how she wanted to do this, you were about to go in for the kill.

“mhm. sorta like how i’m cool with you going with jeremy ford.”

lana furrowed her brows in confusion at your statement.

“what’s that supposed to mean, y/n?”

“lana, let’s not play games. i’ve told you about my crush on him, you tell me that i should go for him, but then here you are, on his arm here tonight! what’s crazier is that i had to find out from clark and pete.” you comment cutting your gaze over at chloe, letting her know that she wasn’t out of the woods for her role in this disaster.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t know that i had to tell you every single that happens in my life. especially in who i date. besides, he was the only one who asked me and i just went along with it because neither of you never made a move!” lana made a valid point, but the mystery was why didn’t she just give you a head’s up, so you still combatted her claim.

“lana. i don’t give a damn about who you date because obviously you didn’t when you and clark got together, knowing that chloe and i had feelings for him. it hurt us, yes, but you were decent enough to say it to our faces because our friendship mattered. i’m not even sure if that’s true now because this time, you just told chloe. i get that she’s roommate, but why? why couldn’t tell me—

“because i didn’t want you telling clark that i’ve moved on so quickly, okay? i’m not exactly over him and he didn’t ask me, so i felt that i didn’t have a choice.” the word vomit spews after she you cuts off. you all take a beat of silence before she continues,

“i’ve seen how close you two have been getting. i-i don’t know what it is, but suddenly he’s like an open book when he’s around you. even when we were together, on and off, he’d never be that way with me, so i guess i didn’t tell you because i was afraid you’d run off and tell him in a heartbeat. i-i guess i went out with jeremy and didn’t tell you because i was—”

it was now your turn to cut her off.

“jealous?”

conceding, lana silently nodded. it’s amazing how she was so quick to call clark a coward back in the past and pressure him for a truth she wasn’t sure she could even handle, but now look at her. being secretive all because of her obsession with clark exposing himself as who he truly is while they were together.

“wow, so i guess that dance really burned you up. didn’t it, lana? now you see what happens when you’re not completely honest with people who you claim to be their friend.” you sharply retort, venom in your tone.

“y/n, i’m—” she started to speak, but stopped as she did a double take to the male in question heading in your direction. speak of the devil—well, alien in your case. as if his timing weren’t perfect enough, clark had finally appeared with two cups of punch along with two decorated cupcakes. your favorite dessert.

“i hope i didn’t keep you waiting that long, y/n. there was a long line for the both bathroom and the snacks.” he chuckled as his eyes took notice of his friends, but he felt there was something that went down between you. there was a tension and the vibe wasn’t very pleasant.

“lana, chloe hey!” he cordially greets them both while handing you the refreshments. he grins as your facial expression softens in contentment at the sight of the delicacies, you thank him as you take it into your hands. he makes small talk with lana and chloe, asking them if they’re enjoying the event in which they respond with a “yes” and “mhm” as they nod. it was only a matter of time before what you were worrying about came to fruition. although you were glad at his presence, he could see that you were clearly uncomfortable with the girls sitting at your sides. clark kent guaranteed a good night for both of you, so he had to do what he had to do.

“i’d hate to intrude, but you guys mind if i sat with y/n? i believe i owe her some quality time back for being away for so long.” he requests, awaiting for the girls departure. as soon as lana and chloe heard the words, “quality time”, they instantly acknowledged that he wanted to sit with you, alone. after witnessing what happened, chloe saw it in their best interest if they did leave you and clark alone. no matter how much lana wanted to stay, she still had jeremy to entertain for the night.

“that’s no problem! we were actually just leaving.” with that, chloe stood and took lana’s arm, whisking them both to the other side of the gym before lana could say another word. clark took the seat that chloe had sat in, he peered over to see you happily, but silently indulging in the cupcake. although he didn’t want to ruin the vibe, he still had a hunch and questioned you about what happened previously in his absence.

“hey—are you okay? it looked like you wanted to get out of there.” it was sweet of him to check in on you so you just gave it to him straight.

“yeah, i’ll be fine, clark. lana and i had a fight. it was obviously about jeremy and—” you paused, gazing in his direction, “other things, but i don’t wanna talk about it now. i’m still gonna have a good night with you.” you glance over to the area where the photo-booth station is. “it looks like the line at the photo-booth is slowing down. let’s get a picture after i’m done.”

“yeah, sure! i’m up for that it’s gonna be fun.” he enthusiastically nods, agreeing to the next step.

“you gonna eat that?” you question gesturing to the cupcake that was still in his hand. you had this habit where he would have a morsel of food and you would always ask if he would finish it. no matter what, clark would always give it to you and this was no different. with a chuckle, he gave in. you didn’t notice that some icing had spread to the corner of your lip, but he did.

“hey, hold still. you got something right—” he paused, using his hand to guide your chin, so that you could be face to face. with a gentle swipe of his thumb, the icing disappears. “there.” he finishes, “don’t want anything to spoil our photo op, now would we?” you both erupt in giggles. after serving him a thank you, you both refresh with some punch and make your way to the short line of the photo booth. you two carry on in casual conversation as the first two couples go in, do their thing, and come out leaving with one strip of about five photos. it was now your turn to go in the rectangular booth. it was a bit of a squeeze. given clark’s tall stature. there was a bench, but it looked like it could only hold one person once clark sat down. you inwardly thought a “bless his heart” as his body almost took up the whole bench. still standing, you giggle when he’s about to push the “start” button and you both see a ten second countdown presented on the screen.

“clark! how are we supposed to take pictures when i can’t even sit down? now, i only have five seconds.”

he gazed at you and simply patted his leg, suggesting you’d sit there. you frantically shake your head, quickly declining his offer. you weren’t sure if you should cross that line in this tight space with the your brother’s best friend.

“i know it may look weird to you, but we literally don’t have time. i’m good with it, so c’mon!” he urges, laughing.

“clark, no!” you resist not containing your own chuckles. you’re hysterical as he grasps your wrist and pulls your body to his, so that you were sitting upon his leg. you both look at the direction of the screen count to one and then you hear the first click as it captured your giggling faces. another timer starts when you shift to a normal pose of you wrapping an arm around his shoulder and his around your waist. you both promptly smile for the second time. at the third click, he’s gazing at your profile smiling while you stick your tongue out while throwing up a peace sign. at the fourth, you look over at him to match the never ceasing eye contact which the camera captures. as the timer starts for the final photo, your head is spinning as your senses are all over the place. within these last ten seconds, you look down at his rose red lips while his arm pulls you in closer on his lap. you free hand goes on a journey to reach for his jawline where your fingers graze against the sharp edge of the bone before stopping to completely hold his face. clark leans forward, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. your awaiting lips barely ghosting over one another. both of your eyes shut as you pass the point of no return. at the final click, it captures the moment of you and clark kent, tenderly kissing each other for the first time. you’re both lost in the kiss between you lingers for a few more seconds before you open your eyes and the realization of what you’re doing dawns on you.

what the hell just happened?

as if you inherited kryptonian speed, you shoot up from your place on clark’s lap and hastily walk out of the gym towards the back exit. without wasting time, clark called out for you in protest snd was swift enough to collect your photo strip and jog in the direction of where you left. when you pushed open the door, you stood with your back against the brick wall as you let the hot tears cascade down your brown cheeks. you didn’t care if your mascara was running, what were you thinking? you loved the kiss, you loved clark. it was obvious that he was enjoying it as much as you did, but did it hold that same sentiment for him as it did for you? you cross your arms, scolding yourself for being such a hypocrite. you just told lana off for going out with a guy you liked while you, her trusted friend, kissed her ex-boyfriend. you weren’t having a good night and it all seemed so screwed up now.

you sob quietly and stop when you hear the door creak open to reveal clark. he softly calls your name and attempts to reach out to you, but you turn from him and wipe away at your face.

“clark, w-we shouldn’t have done that! we should not have done that.” you reiterate, and start to ramble after you turn to face him again, “clark, what about pete? what’s he gonna say if he finds out? it was already hard enough when you told us about your secret, but i don’t want you to lose him as a friend because of me. i don’t want to lose you because i love you and our friendship too much for that to happen.” silently, he looks down at and you pause, sobbing out your confession.

“you want to know why lana didn’t tell me about jeremy? she’s mad because of how close we’re getting. she’s mad because i know a part of you that she doesn’t, clark— and you know what? i love how close we’ve been getting. i love that you can be honest with me without holding back. i love that you can come to me about the issues with your family. i love that you use your abilities to help and protect others, including me. now i don’t blame her for getting jealous because—” you stop to take his hands within your own and stare straight into his eyes, finally mustering up the courage to say, “i love you, clark. i love you so much. alien or not, it’ll never change how i’ve felt about you. you may think it all you want, but you’re not a monster and you’re not a freak of nature. you’re you. that’s why i’ll always be there for you the best that i can, clark. whether you feel the same way or not.”

clark’s heart raced as he absorbed your words, the weight of your recent confession hanging thick in the air as you wait for an answer, any sign for how he felt. he felt a warmth spread through him, his mind trailing back through memories of late-night conversations, stolen glances, and moments filled with unspoken understanding between you two.

“i-i…don’t know what to say,” he finally uttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“then show me, clark.” you softly urged with a firmness not daring to break eye contact, “you either stay or leave. you make the call.”

deep inside him, something stirred—a realization that had been hiding deep in the shadows of his heart that’s been there all along. as he looked into your brown eyes, the intensity of your gaze opened something within. so gingerly, he stepped closer, his breath hitching as he reached out to cup your face in his hands. “y/n, i—i want to stay. i want to give you the chance that you deserve because you’ve always been there for me and you just get me. you’re the only girl i can truly be myself with and when you said that you don’t see me as a freak, it only confirmed what i’ve been feeling.”

he gulped, his gaze softening upon your figure as his adam’s apple bobs in his throat before concluding his statement,

“what if i showed you—that i believe what we did in the photo-booth wasn’t a mistake?”

“oh, clark.” you sigh out in resolve before placing your hands on his shoulders, promptly leaning in, and finally closing the distance of your lips for the second time. the first time was gentle, magical, and tender. this kiss however, had more desperation and your movements more fervent. he backed himself up against the wall, naturally guiding you closer, so your bodies were connected. he snakes his arms securely around your waist while your lips move in sync with each other. you lean your head back, sighing as he holds your jaw to sensually entrap your full bottom lip within his. if you wanted to know the feeling of being drunk, this, right here, had to be the epitome of it when you took the bold step of swirling your tongue around his. a hum vibrates deep from his chest and into your mouth when he plays along. this was it—no more doubt, no more guarding your hearts against the unknowns of what you could be together.

while you were lost in each other, lana lang had wanted to find you so, she could hopefully talk things out with you after the confrontation. she left jeremy behind and stepped out of the gym, trying seeking you amidst the crowd before going outside and around to the back of the school. ever so stealthily, her steps faltered as she caught sight of you, her friend, and clark, her ex, caught in the rapture of the most passionate of kisses. she didn’t dare to utter a word nor spoil the moment with an outburst. she didn’t want to ruin things than they already were between you. feeling a mixed pang of hurt, anger, jealousy and defeat, the last thread of hope snapped inside her. with the sting of her watering hazel eyes, she turned back to quietly retreat and find chloe, so they could immediately go home. now, she was leaving behind the remnants of what could have been between her and clark, while you and him are unaware of the heartbreak left lingering in the night.

[rose-maidenn]

Pac : what are your hidden talents ?

Heyyy welcome to my reading , take a deep breath and choose a Pile with your intuition take what resonates only . If you liked it and would like book a reading dm me 🫶

Pile 1 :

Your powers are first of all all around you and it's visible to the people around you, however you are blinded to them , you need to pay close attention to what brings you joy and fulfillment , therein lies your true salvation, you have the power to create abundance and I know everyone has that but trust on me that what you have is so rare so special and also so subtle and you yourself are unaware of it ,but in everyday life try to create from what you have and soon you will see your power gleaming . Along with that you have the power to dance at the face of danger you're a calm person and nothing gets to you, if you haven't been that calm trust that with time universe will bless you with calmness that defeats enemies . Apart from that you might be potent in sexual sensual and glamour magic .

Pile 2 :

You have the power to wake up from anything , to let things literally go , a cycle breaker a true incarnation of getting up after a fall . Your energy is misunderstood because how could it be you know life requires necessary sacrifices and you do it , people however don't get it . Your discipline is one of your greatest gifts and your energy of being undefeated . You also maybe good at pranic and energy healing . Also honey always remember that your advise is very worthy and can help so many people so advise people only who deserve you and your energy.

Pile 3:

Your hidden talent is your dark feminine or masculine energy that believes people deserve what they do to others , it's the energy of righteousness and in a way proclaimed and beautiful. You hold the power to give people a taste of their own damn medicine and let them know that you're not one to be messed with you're the light of the night doesn't matter black or bright. You have a very strong crown chakra , you get messages very easily and your interpretation to them is very correct . Keep working on making it stronger. Your concentration powers are also freaking amazing when you desire something you work so hard for it it's like you get obsessed but you make things work . You're the very dedicated artist kind.

Pile 4 :

Your hidden talent is to have a balance between optimism and pessimism , people mostly fail to have that but you do you know when to feel your emotions and when to just let them go . You will be very famous if you can keep your emotions in control . You also have a very good throat chakra so speaking skills is something you should really work on you will be a master of it in no time . You should also know that best ideas come to people when they're spending time in leisure and as much as you stay grounded and give yourself the rest and leisure that you deserve , good ideas will automatically flow to you , you're a medium of divine gods , blessed be youu .

Thank you so much for reading ❤️

[rubyin-wonderland]

Challenge

opla!Zoro X reader

Summary: You know Zoro's weaknesses a little too well.

WC: 1.2k

Warnings/tags: arm wrestling matches, flustered Zoro teehee, all fluff for once

When you walked into the galley one fine afternoon, you weren't sure what you had been expecting, only that it wasn't Zoro and Usopp locked in an arm wrestling match.

You stood in the door as Usopp used his other hand to grab and tug his arm down, failing pitifully at getting Zoro's arm to move in the slightest.

Finally, when Usopp gave up, his hand hitting the table in defeat, Zoro looked over at you.

"What's this about?" You asked the collective of crewmates, all of whom had been watching the display.

"Another way of our resident swordsman to show off how strong he is." Sanji commented, arms crossed and leaning back against the counter. You wondered if Zoro had beaten him yet, or if he had refused outright to participate.

"Just say you know you can't beat me." Zoro said cockily, arms folded behind his head as he slid back in his seat. "There's no shame in it."

Sanji bristled, but did not give in. "No, I'd rather use my spare time for more useful things. Would you like a drink, Nami?"

He got to work crafting a cocktail while Usopp sulked off to Luffy, rubbing his arm. Luffy tagged in excitedly, slipping into the spot that had been vacated, holding out his arm.

With a pleased sigh, Zoro accepted the challenge, elbow dropping into the table, and flexing his bicep when he noticed you looking, which drew a huff from Sanji and an eye roll from Nami.

You hardly cared what they thought. Zoro knew about your love for his muscular build and hardly cared that the others could tell that he was shamelessly flirting with you by flexing at you, or stretching to reveal a glimpse of the territory that lay below his shirt, a reminder that he was yours to explore.

You smiled at his little show as the two adjusted their arms on the table, finding the best possible angle of attack. You walked closer to the table, standing next to Zoro, a hand pressing gently between his shoulder blades.

"Want a good luck kiss?" You asked teasingly, as your fingers gently brushed back and forth across the fabric of his shirt.

"Eh, why not?" His head turned towards you, but you ducked away from his lips and pecked his bicep sweetly, pulling away with a mischievous smile.

Zoro's eyes widened a small bit, surprised by your small betrayal, and for a second he seemed to forget where he was, surprised at the kiss being placed away from his face. He blushed slightly, shaking his head so nobody could see, but you had.

Zoro simply steeled himself and turned back to Luffy, ready to fight.

"Count us in!" Luffy grinned.

You did as you were told, counting to three and watching as the two began their fight. Almost immediately Zoro gained the upper hand, pushing Luffy's hand halfway down to the table, and watched as Luffy belatedly fought back, managing to gain an inch or two back to his side of the fight, holding steady for a few seconds, then managing to push a little further.

Their hands were almost upright when Zoro pushed back, his hand pushing Luffy's down into the table, a process that looked too easy.

Luffy fell onto the table with his hand as Zoro let go, grabbing at his forearm, whining about how close he had been to winning.

"Thanks." Zoro said, looking up at you. You smiled down at him. "Undefeated?" You asked as Luffy stood up and walked away. "Of course." He said proudly.

An idea slithered into your mind, and you parted from Zoro's side, taking your place across from him. "My turn." You set your arm on the table, hand open, inviting.

he raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, simply extending his hand in turn, elbow back on the table.

Despite not having started yet, there was tension in his arm, preparing for the fight.

You smiled pleasantly at him, hoping the surprise you were cooking up would let you win.

Zoro just looked at the others to count you in.

Sanji stood and walked closer to the show. "One, two, three!"

The split second you felt Zoro's arm begin to move, you pressed a soft kiss to the knuckles facing you, a feather light touch that tickled his fingers, leaving him stunned.

In that moment of surprise, you leapt, shoving his arm nearly to the table, only a miniscule space left to fill before Zoro got ahold of himself, trying to gain back what he had lost, but you leaned across the table as he raised his arm, pushing your lips against his, shoving his arm back against the table as he tasted you, losing himself again.

When you released his hand and his face, you sat back with a smile. "I win."

Zoro coughed, looking pointedly away from the looks being given to him by his crewmates, covering up the fact that he was flustered by your silly actions.

"Wait let me try again!" Luffy gasped, raising his hand voluntarily.

Zoro shook his head, standing up and moving away from you and your charms. "No, I'm done."

Sanji sank into the chair with a sly grin. "I don't suppose you want to test me next?" Sanji asked. You laughed and stood up, allowing Luffy to slip into your spot. "Maybe next time Sanji."

You sauntered up to Zoro with a sly smile. "I could've beaten you." He said quietly. "Oh I know." It was a no brainer that if you hadn't pulled out your secret weapon he would have won easily.

"But I know my opponent." You let him pull you into his arms, resting his head next to yours as you watched Sanji give in to Luffy's pleading and agree to one round.

"Smart." Zoro observed. "Plus, you liked it, didn't you?" You could tell by the way Zoro straightened up that yes, he had liked it a lot. "It was fine."

You had been able to make him go completely slack with only one brush of your lips. That was arguably more than "fine" for him.

You looked down at his forearms wrapped around your body, leaning down to press another kiss to his skin.

"Hey." He grumbled, not making any move to stop your actions. "What?" You asked innocently.

Zoro stayed silent, a warmth growing over his face. He cleared his throat. "Not in front of them." You looked at your crewmates with a smile. "Don't want them to know you go completely soft with just one kiss?" You asked, looking at him, twisting your head to see.

"I don't go soft." "Yeah you do. Like a happy cat. You almost purr." You hold back, although his cheek is within reach. You could give it a peck so easily.

"You'll pay for those comments." He threatens, although there is no malice behind his words. At the end of the day, Zoro is desperately in love with you, and it is not just your lips that drive him to his knees.

Our next sparring match is going to be interesting." You hum in response. You see the grin build over his features. He likes the sound of that. Maybe being beaten isn't so bad if your lips are on his at the end of the day.

[lostbookmark]

MNDI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

Game Masterlist here

Summary: After the death of your brother and his wife. You find yourself adjusting to a new role in your life. A single parent to your teenage nephew. How do you help him heal? How do you help yourself heal? You're not sure. You don't think you can, until an annoying basketball coach enters your life and turns everything around.

Pairing: Basketball Coach Yoongi x Single Aunt F. Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst, Smut, Strangers to Lovers,

Warnings: Death Of Parents / Brother/ Family, Car Accident (Cause), Swearing, Explicit Sex, Arguments, Physical Fighting, Past Abusive Relationship, Talks Of Domestic Violence, mention of sex work

A/N: Surprise, I figured out chapter 14, so here you guys go!! Chapter 14 might be late due to my “vacation” and losing some days to fully work on it, but I'm feeling good about it.

Elly held your hand tightly as the clock on the scoreboard quickly ran down. The score was close. Too close. 45-42 Bangtan Ravens were only up by three points, and Yoongi looked stressed down on the court. He and Jungkook were yelling…..well, you don't know what they were yelling, but they were yelling and pointing everywhere as the boys ran all over. Time outs were being called, and players were being switched out. Frustration even showed on the young player's faces. It was all intense and you didn't like it.

Your eyes go back to the clock, and your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest as it finally hits the single digits. 9….8…Nicky has the ball, but you don't think he was anywhere close to their side of the court, and you don't see any open players for him to pass the ball to. 7…6… He finally breaks free and makes a run for the opposite of the gym. 5….4…3… jumping, he shoots…2…1….. The ball hit the rim of the basket, effectively bouncing off.

He misses.

The buzzer sounds throughout the gymnasium.

Bangtan Ravens wins 45 - 42

6-0 undefeated.

As your side of the gym cheers and the confetti gets thrown in the air, you watch as your nephew hangs his head in defeat. Your heart breaks as you watch his teammates celebrate their win, but he looks like he let them down. Coach Jeon gives his shoulder a little shake and says something in his ear, to which he nods his head.

“That was close,” your mom says, looking up at you from one bench lower like always. “You need to give him a pep talk.”

“But they won,” you say. “I don't know why he's upset.”

“They didn't win by much, and that's the problem,” Chris says, leaning over his fiancée to look at you.

“But they still won,” you say again.

“Doesn't matter,” your mom, dad, and brother all say.

“They almost lost, and that's what he's going to focus on,” your dad explains.

You and Elly look at one another, and she gives you a tight smile. You don't think she understands either.

Fuck this sport!

Maybe you can talk him into joining the choir or maybe some dance class.

Maybe he will be good at tap.

“Food's here,” Yoongi says, bringing in a couple of paper bags into the kitchen and setting them on the counter.

“Did you grab the cash on the table for the tip?” You ask, grabbing three plates out of the cupboards.

“Mmhmm,” Yoongi confirms and buries his face into your neck, pressing his lips into the smooth skin. “If you're lucky, I might have a tip for you too.”

Cackling, you pull away from, only to grab the front of his sweatshirt to pull him to you.

“Was that a sex joke?” You question, laughing. You watch his face turn pink before hiding it in your neck once again. “Don't hide. I've been waiting for this moment.”

“You act like I never touch you,” he says, pulling away from your warmth.

“Touch me, yes. Your fingers are quite magical,” you say and look over his shoulder. “But you've only fucked me twice.”

“I told you…” he starts.

“And I told you,” you say, cutting him off. “He sleeps like a rock. That kid does not wake up. Unless you're more worried about you making too much noise. I believe it was you that was a Chatty Cathy last time.” He scoffs and crosses his arms. “It's fine. I know my skill set is pretty high. It's fine if you can't keep up.”

Yoongi huffs out a laugh, grabbing you and lightly digging his fingers into your sides, causing you to screech in laughter. Dropping onto your knees down onto the kitchen floor, he follows after you, hovering over your back, not letting up. You were so focused on trying not to pee your pants that you don't see Nicky in the entryway of the kitchen until he clears his throat. Both you and Yoongi freeze and look up at the teenager who doesn't seem amused as he stares at the two of you acting like fools on the floor.

“Hey,” you say, scrambling to get off the floor and clearing your own throat. “The food is here. I'm sure you're hungry, right?”

“Is everything okay,” Yoongi asks, looking at your nephew, who was still silent and watching the two of you.

“I let you down,” he says, and a look of confusion crosses Yoongi's features at his words.

“What do you mean?” He questions. “You didn't let me down.”

“I should have played harder,” Nicky tells him. “I did. I let you down today, and the whole team probably knows it.”

“Let's go outside and talk,” Yoongi suggests. Nicky nods and walks out the kitchen door as your boyfriend turns to you. “I got him. Just give us a couple of minutes.”

You nod your head and watch him leave the house, shutting the door as he goes. Biting your lip, you tap your foot and quickly make your way to the small laundry room at the back of the house. Ducking down, you make your way over to the window and quietly as possible. You crack open the window. Peeking over the edge, you watch as they sit on an old wooden bench you had found at a garage sale when you first moved in.

“What's going on?” Yoongi asks from where he sat next to Nicky.

“I missed that last shot,” he confesses, with a bouncing leg. “I thought for sure that I could make it, and I didn't. I wasn't good enough. I was right there, and I missed it.”

“You're not going to hit every shot,” Yoongi tells him, making the young boy hang his head with disappointment. “But that doesn't mean you're not good enough. Why do you think Coach Jeon and I tell you the plays first?” Nicky shrugs, still looking at the ground. “Because your teammates listen to you. They trust you to communicate with them out there. We trust you to make the right decisions out there when things aren't going our way.”

“I should have found someone open,” he says. “I hogged the ball. You taught us to run and pass, but I held on to it. I thought too highly of myself. Look at what happened.”

“There wasn't anyone open,” Yoongi says, trying to appease him. “We underestimated this team, and that was my fault. I didn't do the correct research, and we went in there blind. You got yourself out of that corner and ran with the ball just like you're supposed to do. You did nothing wrong today.”

“But I disappointed you,” he argues. “I know I did. I shouldn't have missed that last shot.”

“The only way that you would have disappointed me would have been if you gave up,” Yoongi says, placing his hand on Nicky's shoulder. “You didn't give up. You and the team fought until the end and won.”

“Only by three points,” he says and wipes at his face with his sleeve. “And they were ahead a couple of times.”

“And…. you guys will run extra for that in practice on Monday for that,” Yoongi jokes. “You won, and I'm proud of you for that. Even if we didn't win, I would still be proud of you.”

“Really?” He asks.

“Really,” Yoongi confirms. “How about we go back in? I'm starving, and I know you're probably starving.”

Your eyes widen and shut the window, but unfortunately, you slam the window shut on the tip of your finger, causing you to silently curse as you run back into the kitchen. Shaking your hand, you quickly plate some food rather sloppily onto the plates, trying to act natural as they come back into the house.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, acting innocent as you try to hide your throbbing finger.

“Yeah, I'll be back,” Nicky says, walking past you.

Yoongi leans against the counter with his arms crossed against his chest, staring at you. You look at him, and he has a small smile playing across his lips.

“How's your finger?” He asks.

“My finger?” You reply.

“The one you shut in the window when you were spying?” He asks.

“I…” he raises an eyebrow, daring you to continue your lie. “Oh, sue me. I wanted to know what was going on.”

“Did you not trust me?” He asks.

“I do trust you,” you tell him.

“Then trust me to tell you if there is anything you need to know,” he says.

“Why couldn't he talk to me?” You question shaking your hand again, trying to ease the throbbing pain. “He knows that he can always come to me when he needs something. He always has.”

“Would you have known what to say?” He asks, taking your hand in his to look at your red finger. You open your mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. “I want him to be comfortable to come to me if he needs to talk. Even if it's just about basketball. I'm not trying to take that away from you.”

“Fine, I won't spy on your conversations with him anymore,” you concede, taking your hand back.

“Thank you,” he says, with a smirk and you roll your eyes in return.

“Yeah, yeah, you win this one,” you tell him.

“Can you repeat that?” He asks, leaning closer. “Did you just say that I won an argument?”

“Don't get cocky,” you warn.

“You've admitted to liking me, trusting me AND… I won an argument. Oh, I'm going to be cocky,” he says, taking all three plates to the table.

Crossing your arms you watch him go with a shake of your head.

You've created a monster.

“Touch the line,” Yoongi yells as the boys run across the court touching the lines. “We won by three points! THREE POINTS! That is nothing to brag about. It should have fifteen…. ten, but three? THREE!”

The boys were tired, huffing and puffing as they stood against the wall trying to catch their breath. Coach Jeon blows his whistle as they all take off touching each line before running back to the wall before running forward again to touch the next line and so on. They looked miserable. You felt miserable watching them.

“I think that was pure luck,” Yoongi continues. “They weren’t tired. They could have played a whole other game while you all looked ready to collapse. Huffing and puffing out of breath like you have never run around a court before.”

“SIX LAPS!” Coach Jeon shouts, with a whistle blow. “We've been taking it too easy on you. Our main focus will be stamina….”

“This is awful,” you whisper to Mark.

“They're not wrong, though,” he says. “That team had some new players that we weren't anticipating. They were quick, and our boys tired out too soon.”

"Anticipating?" You question. "Am I supposed to be keeping track of other teams?"

"Some of us do," his answer makes you slouch a bit.

“The Y has an indoor track, right?” You ask, and he nods. “Maybe I should get Nicky a membership, and he can run on Sundays and in the off-season.”

“Yeah, maybe Jun can join him,” Mark says.

“My son would love to do it too,” chicken parm mom says, poking her head between you and Mark. “I'll set up a group chat.”

You give her a small smile and look away awkwardly. Over your shoulder, you see Ara sitting with a couple of other moms. Sighing, you wipe your hands on your jeans and make your way over to her. As you stand in front of her, she gives you a look of disgust.

“Look, clearly, we will never be friends but….,” you start.

“Oh, so you do have a couple of brain cells,” she sneers.

“I'm trying to apologize. You don't need to take cheap shots at me,” you say, trying to keep your cool. “I shouldn't have repeated what your husband said.”

“And I'm not going to feel bad for you just because everyone else does,” she snaps.

“Ara,” her friend hisses, knocking her knee with her own.

“I don't need you to feel bad for me,” you tell her. "I'm just trying to .... I don't know.... ease the tension."

“Is something wrong, ladies?” Yoongi asks, coming up to stand on the steps next to you.

“I tried,” you say, shaking your head. “I really tried.”

“I don't need your fake apologies,” Ara snaps. “So you can take your ass back wherever you came from.”

“Three practice suspension, Ara,” Yoongi says, staring at her with a serious expression.

“Excuse me,” she screeches, standing up from her seat. “Suspension?”

“You heard me,” he said, staring at her with an unreadable expression.

“For what?” She asks, her fiery gaze focused on burning a hole through his head.

“We don't swear here,” he reminds her, remaining the complete professional that he is. "I believe you know this rule."

“You let her off the hook,” she accuses him.

“Because you goaded her into that situation,” he explains. “I do believe this one is all you. Y/N, here was just apologizing to you.”

“You cannot suspend me,” she argues. “After all I have done for you and this team, you can not suspend me.”

“Yes, I can,” he argues back. “Now you can leave now and for the next three practices, or I can just… ban you if you want to cause a scene. You signed the exact same contract that everyone else did. You are not above anyone else.”

Ara scoffs and looks at her friends, who seem to find their phones a little more interesting at the moment. Grabbing her bag, she walks down the stairs and out the gym doors. Yoongi doesn't say anything to you as he walks back down the bleachers to the court. You, yourself, turn to go back and sit next to Mark, who looked thoroughly amused.

“I think our queen bee's reign of terror might finally be coming to an end,” he comments.

“That wasn't my intention,” you say. “I was really trying to apologize.���

“Yeah, but I still thank you,” he jokes. “On the other hand….”

“She might open hell fire on us?” You ask and he nods.

Two whistles blow causing you to jump.

“Get back on the wall,” Yoongi instructs. “I better see fingers touching the lines. I can do this all week!”

This was going to be a long practice, and you probably just made things worse!

Settling into your bed, you flip through your channels on the tv hanging on your wall. Nicky fell out hours ago. Your normal human garbage disposal barely even touched his food at dinner. His eyes fought to stay open the entire time he sat at the table. You understood that this was a part of the whole playing sports thing, but that didn't mean you had to like it. You thought it was too much just for a damn trophy, a stupid shiny piece of metal.

Snuggling deep down into your blankets, you wrap your arms around your pillow. As you start to focus on the random movie on the tv. Your heart stops at the ringing of the doorbell. Looking at your clock, the red glaring numbers read ten thirty stared back at you. Sitting up, you reach for your phone, only to swear when you remember that you left it charging in the kitchen on the counter when you were cleaning.

“Fuck,” you curse yourself.

SItting up, you wait and hear the doorbell again. Jumping out of bed, you run to your closet, grabbing your brother's old hockey stick and march to the front door. Keeping the lights off, you unlock the door and throw it open. You raise the hockey stick over your shoulder, ready to strike, should you have to.

“WHOA, WHOA,” Yoong says as the street light illuminates your figure. “It's me, it's me.”

“What the fuck, Yoongi,” you say, dropping the stick off your shoulder but keeping it in your hand as you hit the lightswitch on the wall. “Do you know what time it is?”

Oh my god!

When did you turn into your mom?

“I tried calling you?” He explains.

“I didn't have my phone on me,” you tell him. “I would have hit you with this.”

“I didn't think you were going to come to the door armed,” he jokes with a light laugh.

“It's late, and I have a kid to protect,” you say seriously. “Who the hell rings a doorbell this late at night?”

“I'm sorry,” he says quickly. “I got some exciting exciting news and I couldn't wait to tell you. I came over since you weren't answering your phone.”

“Exciting news?” You ask, waving him inside and shutting the door. “Is the Loch Ness Monster officially gone?”

“No,” he says. “Jungkook had dinner tonight with one of his friends and found out something amazing.”

Pause.

He looks at you expectantly, and you shrug.

“Good for him,” you say.

“His friend has ties to some sports agents,” Yoongi informs you. “Years ago, there used to be this basketball camp that only invited kids could go to. Like the best of the best, could go to.”

“And,” you say, willing him to hurry this up.

“They closed it years ago, but we found out…. they are going to open it again,” he tells you smiling.

“I think you're too old for it,” you say, and he rolls his eyes with a sigh. “Listen, my nice warm bed is getting cold.”

“Obviously, it's for Nicky,” he replies, ignoring your last comment. “It wouldn't be for a couple of years because he has to be fifteen to participate, but this is huge news.”

“Hold on,” you say, spinning the hockey stick. “You come over here at ten thirty at night. Scaring the shit out of me to tell me about some camp that Nicky can't even get into yet?”

“I understand,” he says. “But this is big, and we need to get him on a good training schedule now so he can be ready.”

“For what?” You ask, confused. “You don't get to decide that he's doing this.”

“Don't take this opportunity away from him just because you hate basketball,” he argues.

“And don't try to live out your dream through him,” you snap. Yoongi gives you a strained smile before heading back toward the door. “Wait, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, please. Come back.”

“It's been a long day for all of us,” he says, “We can talk about it tomorrow.”

“No,” you say, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the couch, making him sit down. “I'm sorry. I'll listen.”

“Boy's would kill for this opportunity,” he explains. “With the right training, Nicky could get that opportunity. It could open so many doors for him in the future with the things he could learn there. Things that I can't teach him.”

“It sounds expensive,” you say, and he looks guiltily at you. “Great! How much are feet pictures going for nowadays? Am I too old for the strip club?”

“Absolutely not,” he says, pulling you into his lap. “Clearly, I will help you with the money. I know your parents will help.”

“No,” you shake your head. “I got what…. two years to save up? I'll get it figured out.”

“I didn't think that far ahead,” he admits. “I got too excited at the news of them reopening.”

“It's really that big of a deal?” You question, making him nod in answer. “You're willing to work with him?”

“Of course I am,” he responds. “I'm not going to let him waste his talent.”

“God, Nick would have loved you,” you sigh, making Yoongi scrunch his face in confusion. “Nicky's dad. Nicky is Nicolas Jr.”

“Oh,” he says softly.

Getting off his lap, you go to your tv stand and open a door that hid a box of pictures where you kept away from your nephew. Sitting down next to him, you open the lid to the show box and scrounge around for a minute before handing him a four by six inch glossy picture.

“This is his dad?” He asks and you nod. “Man…”

“They look alike, huh?” You comment. “That was his senior year championship game in highschool. That would have been about a year before Nicky would be born.” Fingering through the messy memories, you grab one near the bottom of the brown box and hand it to him. “His mom Sarah.”

“I can see him in her too,” he comments as he studies the picture.

“She is… was,” you swallow and wipe your eyes. “She was the perfect basketball mom. You would have loved her. She would have organized your team schedule for you and had homemade snacks for the boys after practice.” You laugh lightly to yourself and look at their pictures. “But now you're stuck with me. All I do is fuck everything up even when I'm not trying to. He shouldn't be here with me. I'm going to mess his future up.”

Cover your face with one of your hands, you try to hide away as that constant lump in your throat finally loosens as you hiccup. Yoongi immediately has you back in his lap, tucking your chin over his shoulder as his hands run over your back.

“That's not true,” he says.

“Yes, it is,” you cry, pulling back to look at him. “He should have gone with my parents. I'm too fucked up for this shit. I'm too selfish for this.”

“Don't say that,” he chides.

“You don't even know the half of it,” you say through your tears. “You don't really even know me.”

“Then tell me,” he demands. “Stop hiding from me.”

“No!” You sob.

“Why?” He asks loudly.

“Because you won't want me if I do,” you cry.

“Sunshine, why are you crying,” Nicky asks, coming into the room before turning an angry glare to his basketball coach. “What did you do to her?”

“Nicks, stop,” you say, wiping your face quickly as you jump off of your boyfriend and walk up to your nephew. “He didn't do anything.”

“She's just upset,” Yoongi says, gently standing from the couch. “Everything is okay.”

“Why are those pictures out,” the teen says, marching over to the shoe box. Bending, he picks up the two pictures of his parents that lay on the coffee table. “I said that I didn't want their pictures out. I'm not ready for that yet!”

“I'm sorry,” you say. “I'll put them away.”

“It was my fault,” Yoongi steps in, lying for you. “I was asking questions.”

“Well, it's none of your business,” Nicky snaps. “I told you all you needed to know!”

“Nicky, stop it!” You demand.

“I understand…” Yoongi tries calming the young teen down, but he isn't having any of it.

“You don't understand shit,” he barks. “You're just trying to be nice to sleep with her! Stop trying to push yourself into our lives.”

“You watch your mouth,” you snap.

The two of you stand toe to toe. He's grown these past few months. You used to have a couple of inches on him, but now he's looking you dead in the eye. It wouldn't be long before he surpasses you. The hardness in his eyes that you have never seen before suddenly disappears as he crumbles into your body, taking you down onto the floor.

“Why did they have to leave me?” He cries into your chest.

You tightly wrap your arms around the boy, your body attempting to rock him back and forth like you would when he was a baby. Back when his mom would swaddle him in your arms, and you sang him to sleep. Back when everything was perfect and everyone was happy. Back when you were still innocent and thought the world was a safe place.

He was so big now.

His body, wrecked in sobs, could barely fit in your arms.

“They loved you so much,” you tell him, tilting his head up to look at you. “They would never willingly leave you. I know they would have given anything to be here with you.”

“I m.m..iss them so much,” he confesses with a stuttered whisper. “It's not fair. It is not fair that all of my friends get to have parents and I don't.”

“I know. I miss them too,” you whisper back through your own tears, cradling him as close as you could get. “Everyday.”

Turning back into your warmth, he cries. He cries for his parents and for the loss of his childhood. He cries for the sadness, the love, the anger, and all the other overwhelming emotions he feels. You stay quiet. You stay completely quiet and let him get it all out.

You're not sure how long you held him for, but just as your arms were getting tired Nicky shifts. Clutching the pictures to his chest, he stands from the ground and walks in front of Yoongi, looking a little embarrassed and much more calm.

“I’m sorry, coach,” he says, sniffing and red-faced. “I didn't mean what I said.”

“It's okay,” Yoongi promises and pats his shoulder softly. “We all say things we don't mean sometimes. I'm not mad. I promise.”

Taking you by surprise and more so Yoongi by surprise, Nicky launches himself at the blonde basketball coach and wraps his arms around him. You watch stunned as Yoongi hesitates for a moment before embracing your nephew. Pushing yourself off the floor, you approach the two of them with the intention of pulling Nicky away from Yoongi, but Yoongi stops you. Instead, he opens an arm for you, offering space for you to join them.

Entering the embrace, you press a kiss to your nephew’s head, making him turn to look at you. You run your thumbs over the tear tracks on his cheeks as he closes his eyes once more. You wish you could do more. This was all above you. He needed help that you couldn't give him.

“We need to get you back in bed,” you say softly. “I'll call you off school tomorrow if you want. We can take the day off together.”

“I need to go to practice,” he replies.

“I think you gave me a doctor's note,” Yoongi says. “You were too sick to go to school.”

Nicky nods his head, and you pull him away from Yoongi to guide him back to his room. As he climbs back in his bed, you pick up the scattered clothes that littered his bedroom floor. Throwing them in his dirty clothes basket, you take the pictures of his parents from his hands and place them on his nightstand.

“I'm sorry,” he breathes.

“You don't need to be sorry,” you say, pulling the covers up over his lap.

“Dad would have been pissed that I talked to coach like that,” he said.

“Watch it,” you say lightly. “You're very lucky that Yoongi is understanding and forgiving. Now, go back to sleep, and we can talk some more in the morning.”

You get up from the bed and head for the door, but his voice stops you, making you turn once more.

“I think he would have been proud too,” Nicky says. “Dad always worried about you, I think. He said it was his job to take care of you. Now that he's not here. It's my job.”

Fuck! This kid is going to kill you!

“It's your job to be a kid,” you disagree. “Now, go to sleep.”

Stepping out of his room, you close the door behind you. Taking a deep breath, you head for the living room once more, and you find Yoongi still standing in the same place where you left him. Stopping in front of him, you watch as he studies you for a moment. You don't blame him. You wouldn't know how to react either. Rising to your tiptoes, you throw your arms around his neck as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in tight to him.

“What do you need from me?” He asks. “I'm afraid to do the wrong thing right now.”

“Stay,” you mumble into the flesh of his neck. “I don't want to be alone tonight.”

“As you wish,” he whispers against your hair.

Turning your head, you lie it flat on his shoulder. Your eyes go to the mess of pictures on your table. You can't actually make any of them out, but you know what ones are over there by heart. Childhood pictures, Christmas mornings with your brothers in front of the tree, Halloween costumes, and everything in between. Closing your eyes, tears escape, rolling down your face, dripping off the tip of your nose, and onto his sweatshirt.

You were so tired.

Your heart ached horribly.

You missed your brother.

Your best friend.

Your confidant.

“Will it ever get better?” You ask him, your eyes still closed. “Will it ever not hurt?”

“I don't know,” he replies, honestly. “I can't make it stop hurting. I wish I could, but I can't.”

“I'm trying,” you say as you pull away from him. “I know you don't see it but..I'm trying.” He gives you a look of confusion as he tries to interpret your words. “I'm trying to figure out how to not hide from you.”

“Don't worry about that right now,” he says. “Whatever it is. Whenever you're willing to talk to me about it. You know where to find me, okay?”

You nod.

He's right.

You do know where to find him.

Usually… it's right by your side.

《Chapter 14》

A/N: So, in my original cut of this. Nicky got a little physical with both of them, and then I cut it. That's not him. Grief does strange things to people, but I don't think he would hurt her.

Tagged Readers:

@busanbby-jjk , @meelismee @jajabro , @wicked-game-black-butler

@wobblewobble882, @damn-u-min-yoongi @mintedagustd , @Granataepfelchen

@yoongiiuu93, @jimeg629 @jincapableoflove , @minghaosimp

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@thelilbutifulthings , @cannotalwaysbenight @notsooperfect

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[sommerbueckers]

can you do another part of drew’s babysitter 😁 it was just too good fr

𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐰'𝐬 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫³

___________________________________________________________

✰ 𝐰𝐜 :: 𝟐.𝟓𝐤

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

✰ 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢'𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐨𝐨

___________________________________________________________

THE LINDBERGH CENTER WAS packed to the brim for the game, a sea full of our school colors. I was standing with a few of my friends, a Wayzata Trojans hoodie hugging my body. My hair was up in a bun, streaks of blue and yellow eyeblack covering my cheeks. I could see her across the court, clad in her black and blue uniform with her warmup jacket zipped over it. Her ponytail swung gracefully behind her, covering up the '1' that was displayed proudly on her back.

I wanna point at you when the game ends and we're up twenty.

Paige's words rung in your ears, they had been for the entirety of the weekend. To say I had been looking forward to the game had been an understatement, it felt like it had been within arm's reach ever since Paige and I talked about it Friday night. It was different than all the others; this time, Paige knew I was here, she knew I was watching.

"I swear we better win tonight— or at least come close to it," my best friend, Elaine, mumbled from beside me. She was cleaning off her camera, readying to take a selfie of us. "Does my hair look good?"

"You look fine," I reassured her, crossing my arms over my chest. I was feeling more nervous for the game than usual, my typical smile being replaced with a look of concentration. I wanted someone to win, and of course I had convinced myself it was Wayzata. But deep down, I knew I wanted it to be Hopkins. Paige would have something to say to me after that, and after not talking to her after... Friday, talking to her was something I had been craving.

"Say 'Fuck the Royals!'" Elaine exclaimed, sticking out her tongue for the camera. I remained silent, pursing my lips out toward her cheek. "Cute!" She began typing vigorously on the screen

Paige seemed entirely at ease; laughing with her teammates, dancing on the court, not a single worry crossing her mind. I shamelessly watched her, blocking out whatever Elaine was saying beside me. The blonde's ability to be completely focused and have her own fun at the same time was mesmerizing, she was mesmerizing.

By halftime, the Trojans were trailing by two, and by the final buzzer we were trailing by twenty-one. Our student section was defeated to say the least, low heads and hushed voices. I bit my lip as I stared around at them, feeling slightly guilty. We had been bound to lose, Hopkins had gone undefeated for the last two seasons. But a part of me was glad, because Paige would be in a good mood.

Elaine and I followed the crowd of students off the bleachers and onto the court. She was sulking, her arms crossed and eyebrows pointed downward. "It was a bad night for us," she argued.

"I'm gonna go speak to the Bueckers, i'll be back," I told her quickly, weaving my way through all the students. The family was sitting in the 'Home' section of the bleachers, Bob was standing as he conversed with another man. Drew was showing something to his mom on the phone in his hand, laughing wildly.

When he saw me walking over to them, his smile grew from ear to ear. "We whooped you!" he said, pointing.

"You better knock it off, or you'll be lookin' for a new babysitter," you warned jokingly, taking the seat beside him.

"How are you, hon?" Moe asked with a kind smile.

"I'm really good, how are you guys?"

"We're great!" she exclaimed, "Drew's been talking about you non stop, says he wants you to come over even when we're not out."

The boy hid his face as his mom laughed, I gently nudged him. "Maybe if you do all your homework and go to bed on time, then i'll think about it."

"Speaking of this," Moe started, "if you're not busy this Saturday, Bob and I are going out again and Paige is always out doin' her own thing, do you mind working?"

"Not at all! Just let me know what time."

Paige was coming up the bleachers, holding the strap of her backpack. She greeted her dad first, then Moe, and her and Drew did a little handshake before she turned to me. There was a large smirk on her lips, the cockiest one I could've ever imagined.

"Twenty-one points," she said.

"Yes, yes," I waved her off dismissively, "I was watching."

"Did you notice I didn't point? I spared you some dignity, you should be thanking me," her tone was teasing.

"Get outta here!" I gently kicked her, shaking my head. She pretended to be hurt, grabbing at her leg and falling into the seat next to me. I could feel the heat from her body radiating off of her, she laid her forehead on my shoulder and made crying sounds. "You're honestly a mess," I brushed her off.

"So are you, at least you will be," she whispered, earning an eyebrow raise from me. "Wanna come to mine tonight?"

You titled your head, slightly groaning. "Can't, got a paper I need to finish."

She fell silent for a moment, and I could almost see the gears turning in her head as she thought of a solution. Then, she perked up.

"How 'bout I come to yours then?"

My family was home, but my parents were no doubt already laid down in bed, and my sister wouldn't be a problem. Paige was giving me that same look that made me lose it last time, I was shamelessly losing it this time too. There was a lot on the line; my phone, my car, my door privileges, all for some pussy. I was gonna do it too.

"You can't park there," I whispered, "and you gotta come through my window so call me when you're outside."

"Bet."

HOW WAS I EVEN supposed to focus on my paper when Paige was coming over? I had taken another shower, threw the clothes that were on my floor into the deepest depths of my closet, curled my lashes, put on some blush, and topped it off with a coat of my favorite cherry chapstick. The pajamas that I had chosen were simple, loose cotton shorts and a t-shirt. I didn't want to look like I had put too much into my appearance.

When the long awaited ring of my phone finally came, I stared at the screen for a second before answering. I could hear Paige walking on the other end. I got up and walking over to my window, keeping the phone to my ear with my shoulder while I unlocked it. Poking my head out, I laughed at the sight of her walking down the street. She kept checking her surroundings.

"A little paranoid, aren't ya?" I said.

"You try walkin' alone at night, not the best feelin'."

"It's okay, I got y're back."

"From the window?" she scoffed out.

"Exactly."

When she reached the house, she disconnected the line and stuffed the phone into her pocket. I didn't even have to tell her to pick up the ladder, she placed it against the house and began climbing. I waited patiently with my hands on the seal, a smile playing at my lips the closer she got.

The air was chilly, goosebumps housing themselves on my arms the longer I stood there.

"Will you hurry up?" I whisper-yelled, she glared at me.

"This ladder is unstable," she breathed out once she reached me.

"You set it up."

She climbed through the window, turning around and shutting it behind her. She breathed out a sigh, the warmth of the room engulfing her. She rubbed her hands together.

"Nice room," she commented, looking around. She noticed the computer, "You finish your paper?"

"No..." I mumbled, "It's not due until Friday though."

"Wait—y're tellin' me you made me sneak all the way over here and your paper isn't due 'till Friday?" Paige frowned, her eyebrows creasing.

"I didn't make you do anything, y're here 'cus you wanna be."

Her eyes narrowed briefly, and she tilted her head before a smile broke out onto her face. She slowly walked over to me, her hands slithering around my waist and pulling me in.

"You might be right."

"I know i'm right," you sassed, palms pressing to her chest.

"Don't act like you don't want me here." Her voice had fell to something just above a whisper.

"Well I don't recall saying that I did..."

"Then tell me to leave."

You didn't move, didn't utter a word. Her grip on your body tightened, and you were sure that even if you did tell her to leave, she wouldn't. You could feel her breath warming the tip of your nose, her eyes boring into yours as if they were the only things keeping her here.

"C'mon," she urged teasingly, knowing I wouldn't. "Tell me to go home."

When I answered her with silence once more, she pressed her lips firmly against mine. She tasted like mint and...Paige, i'd never get tired of it. I cupped her face and held her tight, moving my lips in sync with hers. She picked up the pace, walking back backwards until my shins hit my footboard.

I pulled her down with me by her shirt as I fell, drawing out a surprised laugh from her that I quieted with a kiss. She climbed in top of me, her soft hair falling over our faces like a blonde curtain. The kisses became deeper, more passionate, it was as if I could feel every inch and crevice of her mouth. Her tongue swirled around my own, eliciting a moan from me.

Raincheck though, for sure.

Those were Paige's own words from last time, the very sentence that made me want to flip us over and take control. I pushed her back by her shoulders, moving her body aside with my leg. She fell onto the other side of the bed, face twisted in confusion. I straddled her, sultrily flipping my hair to one side.

"Fuck you look good," she mumbled dazedly, hands finding their way to my hips.

"I know," I whispered, reconnecting our lips.

She let out a soft moan when I bite her bottom lip, now trailing kisses across her jaw and down her neck. One of her hands was tightly squeezing my thigh while the other slid under my shirt to roam across my back, holding me close.

I pulled at the hem of her shirt just as I finished leaving a mark on her collarbone. She hurriedly pulled it off.

"This too," I tugged on the strap of her sports bra. Once again, she obliged without hesitation. She lay half bare underneath me, tits small and perky, nipples hard and sensitive. I grazed my fingertips over them, and she breathed out a shaky breath. I maintained eye contact as I slowly lowered my head, twirling my tongue around one of her erect nipples.

I took as much of it into my mouth as I could, completely soaking her tit. I massaged the other with my hand, gently pulling and twisting the bud. Her back was arched off of the bed, wanting more, needing more. I pushed them together as far as I could, licking the visible separation between them.

"I need you to fuck me..." she whined. She tangled her hands in my hair, pulling my head back to look me in the eye. "Fuck me," she repeated, though this time it was firmer. She's wasn't asking. I laughed at her, my tongue still doing work on her nipple. It was then that I learned Paige didn't like teasing. She pulled harder on my hair, a gasp escaping my parted lips. "Fucking do it."

Leaving open-mouthed kisses down her stomach, I inched closer and closer to where I knew she wanted me. I hooked my fingers around the waistband of her pants, and she lifted her hips for me. With one swift motion, I removed her pants and underwear. I disregarded them somewhere on my floor, spreading her legs by her knees.

"That pussy is so wet baby," I murmured, eyeing it like a woman starved. I bit my lip at the sight of her dripping cunt, spread and soaked just for me. I hold her lips open with my fingers, blowing onto her. She bucked her lips and grabbed the sheets.

"Fuck c'mon, c'mon," she whined out desperately.

"So needy..." I teased. I licked two of my fingers, though with how wet she was I knew it wouldn't be a problem, and ran them along her slit. She was warm, arousal continuously leaking out of her. I brought my mouth to her puffy clit, flattening my tongue against it and pressing. My fingers teased the entrance of her hole, inserting the tips before taking them back out.

I began to flick my tongue back and forth over her clit, her breathing becoming louder and unstable. I slid my fingers in without warning, and Paige's hand flew to her mouth to conceal her moan. I closed my eyes, humming in satisfaction at the taste of her. She was pouring out onto my tongue, giving me every last bit of her.

She moved her hips desperately, grinding against my face. I quickened the pace of my fingers, wet noises filling the room. I moved my head around wildly, nose pressing against her clit. Paige was a whining mess, her eyebrows knitted together and lip taken in between her teeth. She tried to press her thighs together, but I kept them spread with my hand.

I turned my hand, fingers hitting deeper as I backed away to let my thumb do work on her clit. She stared down at me; my mouth glistened with her slick and my eyes held a dazed look.

"'M gonna cum," she whispered. "Mmm fuck 'm so close." She was moving her legs around, almost trying to get away from me. I went faster, her juices splashing out on me, her muffled moans filling my ears, her chest heaving quickly, none of it stopped me.

"Ah, fuck..."

I felt her clench around my fingers, and I held my mouth close to her, wanting to taste every last drop. With one last thrust from me, and one last cry from her, she spilled out onto my fingers. Her legs trembled and she was pressing my head into her pussy, eagerly grinding onto my face.

I kept curling my fingers inside of her as she rode out her orgasm. My sheets were soaked, but I didn't mind. I cleaned Paige up with my tongue, gently running it up and down her lips as she let out tiny moans and sighs. I kissed my way back up to her face, smiling down proudly at her.

"Y're good at that," she laughed.

"Tell me somethin' I don't know," I smirked, pressing my lips to hers and letting her taste herself.

She wrapped her arms around my waist and pulled me down into her, "Y're turn."

___________________________________________________________

[twinkkisserrr]

One thing I love about Armored Core is that it kinda consistently has you massacre characters who should be the protagonist. Because no matter how special you are, some rookie be it through sheer luck or through hellish undertakings one after the other, is gonna wind up beating you.

A lot of games have special people… That you inevitably kill, as some random ass mercenary. Sometimes you too are special, Masters of the Arena had their family killed by Nine Ball, damn if that ain’t an origin story, IDK what else is… Oh wait, now who you played as is the final boss in the sequel… And you just killed him…

I’m not going to pretend I know everything of the series. So I’ll go over the last 2 ish gens for the cases I know well by heart:

- Rusty (AC6): An experienced AC pilot with his own theme song, iconic mech and has a rich story with many other characters in the verse and is himself a turncoat agent waiting for the right moment to turn on Arquebus and help free Rubicon. In the Fires of Raven route, he goes against you, a new mech, his wolf emblem unmuzzled with its fangs bared and he’s coming at you with everything he has, even getting a second wind when all his repair kits are exhausted. You still kill him in the end, even when you play the role as an antagonistic extremist.

- Magnolia Curtis (ACVD): Descendent of Fran Curtis (AC5’s main operator) following the legend of the Dark Raven (AC5’s player character) and quite possibly their descendent too. Doubly whammied, first she’s crippled and loses the ability to fight after being defeated by Reaper Squad Leader, J, after many years of being undefeated. Then, turned into a digital consciousness, literally sacrificing her soul so she can fight again, a very familiar second wind occurring even with her AC’s arm blasted off and in critical condition… You still defeat her.

- J (ACVD): A soldier bred for war, very likely from genetic material from either Joshua O’Brien or Anatolia’s Mercenary (AC4’s player character), he’s even given an all powerful NEXT in the final battle where he (very edgily) states he is made solely for the purpose of warfare. And yet he falls to a lone mercenary.

- RD (AC5): Not much explicit to talk about here other than theoryboarding, RD is implied to have some degree of Lynx pilot in him as there’s suggestions his paranoia is related to AMS capability and furthermore his last name a callback to the “Dominant Theory” in Last Raven, even the AI Chief thinks he has genius talent and potential. He’s the classic case of cowardly young man who has a lot more strength than he realizes… But in the end, in the height of his ego and embracing of his special nature, the player’s character fells him one on one.

All these special characters with blessed genes, great potential or borderline main protagonist built stories are gunned down by an up and coming merc for whatever motives your player character has, your un special player character who often starts the game in a mass produced mech composed of scraps that claws there way to victory.

Unfortunately, being special does not equate to being invincible.

[pitchsidestories]

We wanted to comment on something that we have noticed for a while now.

Whenever a top team loses surprisingly, especially when it’s a team that is usually very strong or on the verge of being “unbeatable”, fans tend to act like the world‘s about to end.

We completely understand that everyone wants to see their team win, that’s natural. But losing is an inevitable part of the game. No team can stay undefeated forever.

A defeat is no reason to panic, especially not if the team remains comfortable on the top of the league.

That being said, we do not understand how “fans” can immediately turn against their own team after one defeat.

Constructive criticism is one thing but singling certain players out, insulting them and publicly hating on them is unacceptable. This kind of behaviour has no place in women’s football or any other sport.

That’s all from us.💙❤️

image sources: fcb femeni instagram account posts from 1.2.25 and pinterest

[iamnmbr3]

What's your favorite non intentional drarry parallel?

Depends on what you mean by parallel.

If you mean parallel between the two characters, then:

Voldemort sends Draco to kill Dumbledore, certain that he will die in the attempt. He defeats his target with a disarming spell.

Dumbledore sends Harry to kill Voldemort, also certain that he will die in the attempt. He defeats his target with a disarming spell (C'mon, even if he thought Harry might come back bc of the Hallows or the blood connection, there was no way to predict Voldemort wouldn't immediately realize what happened and kill him again and then eventually die by someone else's hand since he was now mortal - maybe before 6th year Dumbledore planned to do the deed himself in the end. He had no idea Harry would ever become master of the Elder Wand because his plan was to die undefeated).

Not only that but Harry wins his duel with Voldemort as a direct result of Draco's actions when confronting Dumbledore. And with Draco's wand no less.

If you mean narrative parallel that has romantic implications then:

It's gotta be the bit where James and Lily have a meet-ugly that directly parallels Harry and Draco's first interactions, right down to some of the dialogue. Though special shoutout to Harry being obsessed with Draco in 6th year and then deciding to ask out Luna who has blond hair, silver eyes and a habit of "repeating her father's bizarre views as though they were fact."

[trashingfish]

Millicent questline proves that Maleina had control over the bloom. She uses the word "unleashing" when she talks about Malenia blooming, making it seem like Malenia meant to use the bloom, and that Malenia has control over the bloom. Millicent also says: "The pride she abandoned, to meet Radahn's measure." This word choice wasn't chosen to show that Malenia can't control the bloom. It's to show the opposite. It's to show that Malenia abandoned her morals and pride to ensure that she won her battle. She purposefully chose to release that bloom. It shows how low she will go to ensure her victory.

The thing Malenia can't control is the spread of the Scarlet Rot to her own self. She can't stop the rot from spreading throughout her body, as her and Miquella tried to find a way to stop it, but failed in doing so. She can control how and if she releases her Scarlet Rot. This is shown in her bossfight. In her first phase, she doesn't deal any Scarlet Rot damage to the player. Only in her second phase does she deal rot damage. This is her curse she was born with. She knows how to control and wield it. I'm sure she had to learn how to control it, I don't think she was born with the knowledge on how to take control of the rot.

Malenia finding solace through swordplay would only make her even more set on being undefeated. It's what she first found comfort in. It's what she knows best. Pair this with being Miquella's protector, and she's not going to back down and accept defeat. She is going to fight until she is the victor because swordplay and ensuring her brothers' safety are her top priorities. Especially if it's helping her gain resistance to the rot.

She says she has never known defeat as Blade of Miquella, but it would still carry over to when she becomes the Goddess of Rot. As the GoR, she hasn't known defeat either because she first becomes her in the bossfight. She also comes back therefore shes still technically undefeated in her eyes. I would think she still has her memories and goals in her mind, but at that moment, she is focused on killing the player. When she blooms the third time, her words are: "Wait...Now you will witness true horror." To me, this sounds like she meant to bloom and used her last breaths on using the bloom. Especially her tone when she says these words. She sounds confident and sure of herself. She doesn't sound upset or distraught at becoming the GoR. She chose her third and final bloom to win this battle. When she loses to the player, she says her final words with such despair. You can hear what sounds like weeping and tears in her voice as she's says these words. She also sadly admits she has finally met her match. This also means she failed at her goal of protecting Miquella, so not only was she defeated in battle, but she was defeated in her number one priority.

The Radahn VS Malenia is definitely a stalemate, I would never argue about that because neither one of them killed the other (winning to me would be Radahn or Malenia dying). They only left the other severely injured. I talked about how Malenia didn't win because she still claims that's she undefeated. This is true because technically, she didn't lose, but she also didn't win. I would assume that she believes Radahn to be dead since she used the bloom in that battle. I think really all the demigods are arrogant, as all of them are so sure of themselves that they are going to win. We just see it differently for each one. You could argue that arrogance is all their flaws, but I do think their main flaws are different. I argue that it's Malenia's main flaw because how an important part of her character is that she's undefeated. Also she does fight dirty, all the demigod do. This isn't me upset at the bossfights, its the demigods doing anything they can to reach their goal. Malenia is good exmaple of this as Millicent says Malenia abandoned her pride and blooming. That is an example of fighting dirty to me.

I don't think of her a petty crybaby either. To my knowledge, she's not petty as we don't even know what the Radahn and Malenia battle was even about. Also, I don't see her as the type to go picking fights with whoever. It's just with any enemy she has come across that she has defeated. She is definitely not a crybaby because she never whines about anything. I called her a dirty fighter because, to me, all the demigods are. This isn't about their boss fights either. It's about how they fight. All the demigods have a moment where they didn't fight fair, and that okay I don't expect them to. They are some of the most powerful people in the game with a set goal in mind.

I do agree that Radahn and Malenia are two peas in a pod. However, I never claimed their battle was to showcase who has the bigger dick or just to show how Malenia will do anything to win. Their battle happened after the shattering of The Elden Ring. Everyone was fighting with or without reason. Like you said, it was a tragedy of two broken people ending each other for basically nothing. It's just another part of a senseless war.

Also, the whole thing about her flaw is "She can't accept defeat and prides herself on being undefeated" is true. This is so obvious with the Radahn fight and when the player fights her. When she fought with Radahn, she used her Scarlet Rot Bloom because that was the only way she was going to leave that battle alive. When we fight her, right before the boss battle begins, she says, "And I have never known defeat." She prides herself on being undefeated and has such confidence she's going to win this battle. Then, the cutscene before her second phase starts she uses the Scarlet Rot Bloom and becomes the Goddess of Rot because she refuses to be defeated. Malenia will fight tooth and nail to ensure she is the victor, even if that means fighting dirty. I am sure this is also probably due to her wanting to protect Miquella and wanting to be there for when he returns, but her flaw is being arrogant.

[morallysuperiorlips]

How to Write Villains: 10 Traits to Give Your Villains That Are Guaranteed to Make Them More Interesting

They're a parent...but a GOOD parent: Gone are the days where the villain is a parent but they absolutely should not have procreated (or adopted) because wow, they clearly didn't read any parenting books. Give us a horrible, deplorable character but in another life, they were mother/father of the year.

They have a phobia that might be trivial in the face of their schemes: Your villain might be able to storm a highly secure facility and face off against their world's most armed forces and heroes without breaking a sweat, or tame the deadliest monsters known to all, but so help them if they see a roach in their lair or have to go get their blood drawn. Bonus points if the phobia totally incapacitates them.

Their middle name is "Overkill": It doesn't matter what they're doing, they always have to bump everything up a thousand notches. Their scheme involved burning down a building? Well, they decided to burn down the whole neighborhood instead just to ensure the job got done. Bonus points if they're nonchalant about it. Extra bonus points if it keeps happening without their intent.

They have an aesthetic, they're aware of that aesthetic, and they adhere to it religiously: Is your villain grunge? Or perhaps airing more on the side of cottagecore? Maybe they're giving E-girl? Whatever it is, they know exactly what their vibe is, they know how to achieve it, and fuck your hero in particular if they try to mess it up or say it looks tacky.

They'd be okay with being defeated as long as it's by one person/group in particular: Your villain might be the undefeated Big Bad McScarypants on top, but you know what? They would be content if somebody rolled up and actually had the skill and know-how to beat their ass fair and square.

They like learning about things that have nothing to do with/interrupt their schemes: Your villain could be some eons-old eldritch being that has come to Earth to cause the Armageddon, but they keep delaying their plans because they discovered Tumblr and have been doomscrolling for weeks on end and trying to learn what "blogging" is.

They didn't start out as the main villain, but eventually become worse than the main villain: This is majorly for my friends who have different acting antagonists in their stories. This villain wasn't initially the main threat, but after some solid scheming and sinning, they out-deprave the original villain and give "the devil you know is better than the devil you don't" a whole new meaning.

They scheme for gratification: Having a master plan go off and hoping for mass reactions from bystanders is to them as posting art on Instagram and hoping for a couple likes is to artists.

They constantly wonder if it's too late to go back: Their scheming is 50% building a master evil plan for world domination and 50% wondering if it's too late to just stop and live a normal life as a working class citizen.

They act a villain to protect their loved ones: Big Bad McScarypants is only Big Bad McScarypants because they're pushing away their most beloved companions. Bonus points if it's to protect them from another Big Bad.