summary: spending all day as the daily planet’s golden boy has got clark kent at the last bit of his patience. that little string of control snaps the moment he sees you in nothing but his shirt and those damn panties. good luck!
pairing: clark kent x fem!reader
tags: 18+ MDNI / porn w/o plot / established relationship / misuse of superhuman powers / major dirty talk / unprotected sex / belly bulges / squi rting / c-pie / overstim / semi-public sex (they do it in the kitchen) / oral (f and mild m) / pet names / frustrated clark / coy reader / slight dumbificafion / alludes to marathon / no use of y/n / wc: 3.4k
An entire day of running around Metropolis to get his stories in check has got Clark Kent on the verge of crashing out.
Operating on a very thin string of patience now, he stands over the copy machine with his arms crossed, forehead creased. That trademark Clark Kent smile was replaced with thinly-pursed lips as he stares the wall clock down like it was going to speed up the longer he stared at it.
He's been waiting for the machine to finish spitting out the full fifty copies that Lois had asked him for. Truth be told he couldn't be bothered to even think about what she's cooking up in that head of hers. At that point in Clark's life, all he wanted was to finish up, drop the copies on her desks, and drive back to you.
You haven't texted him all day.
The last he'd heard of you was the sleepy Fill up Shelby's bowls before you leave you said before he kissed you goodbye to head to work at three in the damn morning.
Safe to say he's really aching to be by your side right now, spooning you in his arms, shooing Shelby away from possibly stealing your attention from him. God, I can't believe I'm fighting a dog for her attention, Clark found himself shaking his head, a light disbelieving smile stretching on his face.
He fishes his phone from his pocket, deciding to be a normal human being and calling you instead of using his super-hearing to intrude on whatever it is you're doing.
Four rings in, you're not answering.
Clark decides to message you instead, Hey beautiful, still awake?
His lovesick smile disappears as he hears the rather unfortunate sound of the copy machine acting up. "Not now," he groans, rubbing his forehead to resist the urge to kick the bottom of the machine and risk damaging it even more.
Instead of forcing the machine to push out the fifteen copies left, he uses his x-ray vision and speed runs through the entire maintenance closet to fix the jam.
It's just a machine like anything else, how hard could it be?
The answer to that is a two-hours kind of hard as the fifty copies finally lands on Lois' desks at eleven p.m. with a hefty thump.
Clark checks on his phone one more time as he walks out of the building, standing by his red truck. No response from you yet.
That's weird.
You're not the type to not reply, you're the type to spam him fifteen thousand messages when he doesn't reply in less than three seconds.
"Hey, you asleep already?" He looks around, "I'll bring some food on my way back just in case you're awake and just busy with your TV. Love you." Clark sighs, letting his words drift into your voicemail.
Clark arrives at the farmhouse after an hour's drive. A bag of your favorite chinese food on the passenger seat of his truck. He pulls out the key from the ignition, noticing the lights from the window panes.
"Oh, must be awake then," he mumbles to himself, hurriedly walking up to the front door.
He drops his bags on the chair by the door, hanging his coat on the hanger. "Baby, I'm home!"
Considering the amount of lights turned on, he expected you, or at least Shelby, to come running to his arms but you don't. Shelby doesn't either.
After going around the first floor of the house, he calls again. Thankfully this time, you yell out give me a sec! from upstairs.
Clark finally gets to let out that nervous sigh in his chest, walking to the kitchen to grab a glass of water for himself, the chinese he'd bought home placed neatly on top of the counter.
The water going down his throat nearly rises up as you walk down the stairs and face him; you wore nothing but a gigantic shirt on. One of his go crows! shirts back when he was still playing for the school's football team. The hem ended by your mid-thigh, swallowing your entire frame as your bare legs left nothing to his imagination.
"Hey, handsome," you greet, walking over to him and getting on your tip toes to kiss his lips.
Clark's x-ray vision goes off involuntarily, giving him an entire peek into what you wore underneath his shirt—which is nothing.
Nothing but that red and blue cotton panties you jokingly bought on sale, saying it goes well with his recent outfit color combinations. He got cranky about it, the way you made fun of his fashion taste. Looking at the piece of fabric now, though, he can't help but let his mind zero on the thought of taking it off—
"You brought take out! Did you get—you got the crab rangoons too!" Your eyes sparkle as you take a long whiff of the food in your hands, moaning as you bite into one.
Clark blinks, sweat starting to bead on his temple.
"I, uhm—I was calling you earlier. Were you doing something?" he carefully walks over to you, one arm deviously sliding across your lower back right before you walk away with the takeouts in your hands.
Clark rolls his eyes, mouth parting as he watches you bend over ever so casually, neatly placing the containers inside the fridge. He looks away, fist and jaw clenched. His nostrils flaring as he inhales deeply, a desperate attempt to regulate his hormones.
"Oh, I was busy helping Lana move out from her apartment and I kinda got sidetracked with my book upstairs," you say, glancing up at him from where you were bent, "Sorry, Clarkie."
You rise up, placing your hands on your hips, "Wanna go freshen up before bed? I'll finish up the chapter I'm reading."
Clark quickly turns you around, back to the counter, big hands holding your waist still.
"Oh and Shelby's over at Chloe's too. She needed the company for something," you continue, placing your hands on both of Clark's wrists. He had his eyes glued to your body, not really listening to whatever you were saying. "Now go away, I told you I want to finish the chapter before we go sleep and cuddle."
You do your best to get Clark's attention, even slapping his shoulder to get his head to tilt up. When he does look up, it's to stare at you with a look you recognize all too well.
"Claaaark..." you warn, doing your best to put some distance between the two of you but there was only so much you could do trapped in his arms.
So you let him kiss you, let his lips swallows your all so greedily. His hands running all over your body, slipping underneath the hem of his shirt, palms squeezing the soft flesh of your ass before landing a slap on one.
You gasp, pulling away. "Clark, wait—baby."
Your boyfriend hoists you up the counter, clearing whatever fruit basket is left there, hungrily grabbing your face in his hands. You cross your legs behind his back, pulling the man even closer, already feeling the raging hard on pressing against your core.
He groans into your mouth, sinking his canines onto your bottom lip as you pull at the hair at his nape.
"Missed you so fucking much," he mumbles over the skin of your neck, "Kept thinking about you all day at work. Your smile, your voice, your body." His voice roughens, hands making quick work at unbuttoning the button of his trousers.
"Did you now..." You arch into him, drawing your head back to expose your neck to him. "That why you've been messaging me all day, handsome?"
Green eyes snap up at you, darkening each second, "So you were deliberately ignoring me."
The sound of his metal belt hitting the floor has your lips stretching into a mischievous grin. A good-for-nothing chuckle leaving your throat as you watch him shove down his pants, cock springing out and making itself known.
You lean forward to take him in your hands, squeezing his tip to elicit a deliciously rough grunt from his lips. Clark grips the countertop, desperate to keep his own mind in control.
You move your hand up and down his shaft, smearing the leaking pre-cum all over to lubricate his hard cock. His groans increase in volume. The sound sending shockwaves straight through your core. You spit on both of your hands, jerking him vigorously, desperate to hear more and more of his sounds.
"H-hey—stop," a strong hand comes over yours, effectively stopping you from moving. "We can do that later, baby. I just—fuck, I need to feel you right now," he lets go of you, pushing the hem of your shirt up until it reached your waist. Red and blue panties in full display for him.
You grab the edge of your shirt, already pulling it off of your body when Clark stops you.
"What?" You ask, breathless.
"Keep it on," Clark takes the ends from you and lets it fall back to your waist. "I like how it looks on you, baby. That and these—" he slips his fingers inside of your panties, running them through your slit before he presses them down on your clit.
A shriek escapes your lips as he begins to draw quick circles on your clit. Your hands claw at your hair, feeling his other hand pull your panties to the side, exposing your glistening cunt to the cold night air.
Clark bends down, spitting directly onto your clit, completely oblivious of how loud the sound was. You inhale sharply, eyes screwing shut when you feel his long, thick fingers thrust into your hole, curling upwards right at the spot that had you desperately trying to close your legs.
He'd spent years knowing your body in and out. Practically memorized the exact ways on how he'd get you clenching uncontrollably around him. His fingers moved languidly inside you, massaging your walls in such a sensual pace that your wetness dripped down his forearm.
Your hand drops down, circling your clit yourself while your other hand squeezed your tit, rolling your nipple in your fingers.
Clark pushes your hand away, dropping his lips to suckle on your clit. Flicking it in every direction all the while he inserted another finger. Three fingers now working you open, pressing all in the right spots.
Muddled words escaped your lips, a symphony of please, fuck, Clark filling the air alongside the lewd sounds of your cunt.
"Oh god—that's, fuck, right there, Clark," your hips desperately try to move against his fingers, trying to chase the high building inside of you.
Clark looks at you from where he nestled in between your legs, innocent eyes locking with yours as he makes a show of his tongue. Rapidly swirling around the small bundle of nerves like it was his favorite toy.
"Here?" Clark mumbles, raising his brows before he messily kisses your puffy clit, grinning to himself when he sees your eyes roll back, the sweet moans leaving your swollen lips sounding like pure music to his ears.
He pulls away, the area around his mouth shining with your wetness. "Think she missed me too," his ragged breaths fan against your pussy, the warmth of his breath making you clench around his fingers. "Oooh, she definitely did. Look at that, pretty cunt's turning inside out just to keep my fingers in."
The amusement in his voice was like drugs to you. Driving you even more insane by the second.
Putting his lips back on your clit, his fingers quicken their pace as they begin to bully through your walls. Languid strokes now rougher, thrusting in and out of you in loud squelches.
"Fuck! Shit—Clark, d-don't stop. Fuck, fuck fuck don't you dare—Yes, there!" Your words come out in incoherent babbles.
The way your body shook in his arms was a sight Clark'd never, ever, want to forget. How your fingers tensed as though extending out your claws, clutching to whatever sanity you had left in you. His eyes watch you like a hawk, noticing every tell-tale of your orgasm as his tongue flicked at all the right moments.
Your release comes out in gushes of wetness, spraying all over his forearm, some even landing on the premium fabric of his button-up long sleeve.
Stunned, you clutch at your chest with deep breaths, staring blankly at the ceiling. Your legs tremble weakly, all but falling to the smooth counter if not for the way Clark held onto them.
"Look at that, you've drenched my shirt too," Clark suddenly says, his palm snaking under your head to lift it up, forcing you to see the wet splotches on the shirt you were wearing.
"Whose fault is that?" You huff at him, body still spasming with occasional tremors.
Clark chuckles at you, ignoring the way you stare at him like he was somebody that just wronged you. "Not mine," he answers, ghosting his lips over your jaw, suddenly tugging you down the counter with his strong arms.
Your knees wobbled as your feet touched the cool floor, you would have surely fallen straight down if not for the firm and stable grip Clark had on your grip.
"Well hello," you gulp, throat going dry as you stare at his cock. Impossibly harder and bigger than before. More pre-cum leaking out. "You should probably tend to that in the shower."
He smirks at you, enjoying the challenge you're putting up for him. Pulling you snug up against him, he presses into you until his pre smears all over the fabric of your shirt. "I think I know a better way to tend to it," he ruts his hips up, breathy grunts leaving his lips.
"Turn around," you barely hear his voice as he whips you around.
Your tits touch the chilly smooth surface of your countertop, your ass practically presented to him in all its glory as he gently pushes your ankles apart, spreading your legs even more. You all but yelp at how fast he's manhandling you, his own neediness evident in the way he rubs his shaft along your slit. Letting your wetness drip down and lubricate his cock.
"Shit. Really couldn't wait 'til we're all fresh and cuddling up in our bed?" You whip your hair to one side, craning your neck to look at him.
He's entranced with your ass. The way the thin red and blue fabric contrasted with your skin, pathetically hiding his pretty pussy from him. His hands rove all over the soft, plush skin. Kneading and spreading your cheeks apart all the while he rubs the tip of his cock up and down your holes with that perverted glint in his eyes.
Clark looks back at you, biting his lip, "Not my fault you decided to wear this," he pulls the center of your panty before letting it go. The harsh snap of the fabric against your cunt making you jump.
He pulls your panties to the side again, thrusting the tip of his cock in. The two of you watch as he slowly feeds the rest inside, a long and deep moan leaving both of your lips when he finally bottoms out.
You feel full. You are full.
"Fuck, I've prepped you already and you're still so tight." Clark's voice comes out shaky as he pistons his hips in and out of you, barely even giving you any time to adjust. The side of your face hits the surface of the counter, high-pitched shrieks leaving your lips with each drag of his cock in your walls.
Clark watches how your walls engulf him every time he thrusts in. The way your skin bulges from where he kept his hand by your belly. He could feel each time his cock slides in and out of your tight cunt.
"Ah, shit, you feel so good. Pussy eating up every inch of my cock," he's more so talking to himself than to you, his abs clenching tightly as his own climax drew close dangerously fast.
You whimper, pressing your self even harder on the counter, doing your best to fuck your ass back onto his cock. Your own arousal getting the better of you.
Clark's hand slithers itself to your clit, running rough circles around the small nub until he feels your legs shake. Holding you up with his other arm, he thrusts even harder into you. Shifting his angle just enough to hit the spots he knew like the back of his hand, the resounding scream of his name telling him he'd just found it.
You stretch your arm back, sharp nails drawing red lines on his forearm, your entire body convulsing as the pleasure hits you from every direction. Each firm thrust of his hips made his balls smack up with your clit, both of you moaning uncontrollably.
Feeling his firm chest against your back, you could feel yourself creaming on his cock. Every time he pulled out, the sloppy sounds of wet bodies smacking against each other rang in your ear.
His hand disappears from your waist, instead it moves up your chest and to the sides of your throat, gripping it firmly as he pulls you up to press against his chest.
At that moment, you were only held up by his body pressing you firmly against the counter. His thrusts jerking your entire body up until you're basically putty in his hands.
Clark grazes the side of your cheek with his lips, his deep, guttural groans going right into your ear and down to your aching cunt. "Mhmmm feel so good. Yeah—fuck," he takes your lobe into his mouth, grazing his sharp canine on the soft skin. "Close, baby? Almost there? Can feel your cunt crying for me, creamin' on my cock."
He applies a bit more pressure on the sides of your neck, "Talk to me, beautiful. Wanna hear about your day."
You'd do that, if only your head wasn't pre-occupied with the fact that he's ramming into you so hard and fast that every word in your pretty little head is nothing but sparkles.
"You read all day?" He prompts further, desperate to hear your voice speak something that's not nghhh or so good! or clark! "C'mon, you can tell me. I know you can, beautiful. Get those pretty words out your head."
Your mouth falls open, strings of saliva dripping down from your lips. "C-Clark, I'm—ohmygod—Almost there."
"What?" He grunts, shifting his thrusts to deeper ones than quick ones. "Your day, sweets. Now." His words were punctuated with a harsh thrust, abusing your spot continuously.
"Shit it was good!" you sob out, the strength leaving your body as you fully leave yourself in his arms. "I-I...book... all day. M-me and... me and Shelby went out."
"Yeah?" Clark nuzzles his nose into your hair. His thrusts became sloppier, his fingers speeding up. "Must be—fuck, ah—tired then?"
You nod, unable to push any more words out. Your mind was fuzzy. You couldn't think straight. Definitely not with the way his big arm constricted the air flowing in and out of your lungs.
The pleasure eventually consumes you. The high-pitched scream that leaves your lips quickly swallowed by Clark as he kisses you dumb. Tongue invading your warm mouth as he spills inside of you. Already feeling the warm, thick spurts of his come leaking out of you from how much it was.
When Clark pulls away, you draw in a deep breath, practically gasping to try and get the air back into your lungs.
Both of your bodies were drenched with sweat. His cheeks were flushed, lips swollen, chest also rising and falling in labored breaths.
"Hey beautiful," he slurs, closing his eyes as a dumb smile grows on his face. Taking the hand previously wrapped around your neck and brushing your hair away from your face. A rather innocent kiss placed right on your forehead.
You feel his cock twitches inside of you when both of you lock eyes again, his soft curls grazing your cheeks.
"Clark," you call out, voice hoarse.
"Mhm?"
"I can't feel my legs."
What you receive after was a boyish chuckle from him, two strong arms wrapping around your body as he lifts you up, cock still hard inside you.
"Don't worry, beautiful," he says, taking easy steps to the stairs. Each step making his length move inside. "You're not gonna feel them anytime soon."
hearts, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! if you liked my work, you could consider commissioning / supporting me <3
summary: driving back to the kent farm after your internship, you see your boyfriend in his tight white tee… drenched in sweat. (inspos: this p-link + this tiktok)
warnings: MATURE (18+) / pure smut w light fluff / no plot, just clark wearing a white shirt / excessive description about cocks and dicks / overstimulation / oral (m) / groping / established relationship / no penetration / mild dirty talk / reader is ovulating, clark is free-use / semi-public sex (someone walks in)
a/n: oh my lawwwd this might be my best smut piece yet !!! pls do not hesitate to comment your thoughts & reactions, it motivates me a lot when u guys enjoy my work :3
gifs from @/zanephillips !
The front door of the Kent house jingles on your arrival.
The smell of Martha Kent's town-famous pies infiltrating your nostrils as soon as you entered the door. Martha, who usually was out of the house most of the time, seemed to have some spare time because she's baking again.
And God knows how happy you are that she is.
"Sweetheart, I set you aside some pies and muffins for you and Clark to eat over the weekend," Martha says, giving you a quick peck on the cheek like a mother would. "I have to go to New York with Lionel for a charity ball… you know we need the sponsors."
You hum, taking a utensil from the drawer to eat the sliced pie on the counter. "That's great, Mrs. Kent! Though I'm not sure Clark'd appreciate you going with Lionel."
"I know," she sighs. "But it's what I gotta do. I can't run the senate seat without sponsors, we need the funding."
The moment you feel the pie melt into your mouth, you're done for. You moan loudly, jerking your fork back and forth making Martha laugh.
"Sorry—have you told Clark about it?" You lean on the counter, voice slightly stuffed as you continued eating.
Martha shakes her head, "Still trying the right time to."
She sets the topic aside, beginning to talk about things happening in the senate. Both of you occasionally laughing when she talks about something particularly ridiculous that the other senators do.
It was a sweet and lighthearted conversation you had with your boyfriend's mother; it always is. Aside from the incredible being that is Clark Kent, you're also thankful that he had such a cool mother and a wonderful father behind him. Makes you feel all the more lucky to be part of such a family.
When you finish your pie, you feel a lot more rejuvenated. Like you could take on the world. Let fate give you their biggest challenge, who cares?
"Want another slice? I have one more—"
You spot Clark come out of the tool shed through the kitchen window, the white shirt he had on was littered with black stains and possibly some oil grease. The fabric clinging onto his body like second skin, barely letting his biceps breathe as he hoisted up some tool his shoulders, tongue darting out to wet his lips before he began heading elsewhere.
Your mouth waters, mind drifting off to the image of Clark underneath you, utterly ruined and glistening with sweat. Hips stuttering, cock begging to be tended to.
Sorry Martha Kent, I just found something else I wanna eat.
"Actually, I'll eat the last piece later with Clark," you tell her, putting on a sweet, innocent smile on your face. "D'you happen to know where he is?"
Martha's mouth forms an 'o', looking behind her to glance through the window. "I think he was at the shed earlier… you should probably go check the barn. I think he's fixing up something there."
You were already by the door when she finished, waving happily. "Thanks!"
A loud mechanical sound comes from the barn, practically reverberating all throughout the farm with how loud it was. You clasp your hands behind your back, discreetly walking inside only to see the first floor empty.
Your eyebrows furrow confusedly, hands coming apart to grip the strap of your bag, looking around the area for your white-shirt wearing hunk.
"You got home early," a voice comes from above.
You immediately looked up, an amused scoff coming from you as Clark leaned down on the wooden rails, grinning at you endearingly.
"Didn't you miss me?" You ask teasingly, face beaming as you made your way to the stairs, meeting with him at the center. Arms immediately thrown upwards to pull him close. Clark chuckles, not expecting you to lunge yourself towards him. Definitely not when he's sweaty and dirty.
But that's how you like him—sweaty and dirty.
"I missed you real bad, sweets. It was—oh—hard fixing the farm without a human radio beside me," Clark grunts in the middle of his sentence, suddenly feeling your hand over his clothed member, rubbing him gently through his jeans. "You okay? I just… I just finished bringing some heavy stuff up the loft and it's…"
Clark's words trail off as you began kissing the thick column of his neck. Messily licking the sweaty skin while your hand continues massaging him, your other one resting on his shoulder.
You feel his chest heave. A low, almost silent, groan leaving his mouth the moment you bite on the spot between his neck and collarbone, same time as you pull at the hairs on the back of his neck with your free hand.
The manly smell of sweat oozing off of him has you grinding your body on his. The hand you previously had on his center, slowly moving up and under his white shirt. His firm abs flexing under your touch.
Just as his eyes roll back, he snaps into reality, pulling away haphazardly.
"B-baby! What's gotten into you?" Clark laughs shakily, confused at the suddenness of your actions. "Look, I'm all dirty," he moves his arm up to wipe away the sweat on his forehead. "Let me take a quick shower and we can continue this, alright?"
Your face drops, "No."
He laughs again, this time with an expression that has you rolling your eyes. He stared at you like the word no was the least of his expected responses. "What do you mean no? Baby, I'm all sweaty—look, my shirt's dirty. I'm dripping of sweat, sweetheart, your clothes gonna get all messed up."
The smile he offers to you was a consoling one. Telling you that he'd really wouldn't want you to be with him in such a state wherein he's not clean and spotless.
You look at him through your lashes, lips separating as you stood on your tiptoes, moving close to his ear while he quickly leans down to your touch. "All the more reason to let me suck your cock, Clark."
When you pull back, you grin devilishly when Clark looks at you with bewildered eyes. His adam's apple bobbing uncontrollably. You push him back onto the steps of the loft, his body falling defenselessly on the top section of the stairs, the two of you hidden by just a few wooden panels.
Clark swallows on nothing, the heat of your voice has blood rushing into his cock, jeans tightening quicker than usual. You throw your bag somewhere in the loft, the rattle of your things being the least of your worries.
You turn to Clark, taking one more look at him; sweaty, flushed, and very much aroused. The evident bulge in his pants and shirt has you drooling.
You climb on top of him, Clark's hand immediately holding your body to make sure you won't fall back. You kiss him with much hunger in you, aggressively swiping your tongue and biting his bottom lip.
Your hips grind on his clothed cock, the rough material of his jeans making you mewl into the kiss. Clark lets you in without a fight, tongue tangling itself with yours as he has his own exploration underneath your top. Big, manly hands cupping your breasts through your bra.
You grind even harder on his cock, a coil building up in your core despite the two of you still fully clothed. You pull your hand up to slide underneath the waistband of his pants, feeling the weight of his hardening cock on your hand. The fabric of his boxers slowly getting wet by the tip.
Clark pulls away to let out a rough whimper, raspy and breathy, his forehead scrunching up with the way you jerk him softly through his boxers. The sound makes you feel hotter, urging you to ruin him even more.
The two of you separate for a brief moment, Clark's hands immediately moving to take off his white shirt, already holding the hem when you put your hand over his. You shake your head, smirking.
"Shirt stays on, handsome," you wink at him, leaning down to kiss the firm center of his chest, keeping his eyes locked with yours.
Clark throws his head back, grunting. You take the moment to hop off of his lap and pull his jeans just past down his knees. Clark helping you out to quicken the process, now equally as aroused as you are… probably even more.
His boxers tent shamelessly, the thin piece of blue fabric failing to hide the outline of his dick as you make out a darker colored blue right at the tip. Your mouth waters at the thought of his cock leaking just for you.
You pull down the waistband of his boxers, completely captivated at the way his cock proudly stands up, just barely hitting past your lips. The ridiculous size of it has you clenching your legs together, doing your best to fight the urge to just take him right then and there.
However, you had other plans, some that supersedes the ache between your thighs… like making sure Clark Kent remembers never to wear a white shirt when you're coming over.
His cock twitches on its own, the tip pulsing with an angry shade of red. It was so hard, you swore it looked like hurt. And for Clark, it actually did—even more so when you stare at it like it's the only thing you ever wanted. His hips move impatiently, Clark doing his best to stop himself from grabbing you and doing the job himself.
Finally, your hand cautiously grabs his shaft, involuntarily licking your lips at you began jerking it off, testing the waters as you flicked your eyes up to your boyfriend.
Clark's barely hanging on. His mind is going dizzier and dizzier by the second. Feeling his sanity hang by a single thread now that you're starting to move your hand even faster. Trying to hold in the moan in his throat when you put your lips around his tip, rolling your tongue around the fat head of his cock.
The salty taste of his pre-cum made you sigh contentedly, the vibration in your mouth making him twitch.
"You taste so fucking good, baby," you rasp, holding out your tongue to lick one thick stripe on the underside of his cock. Making sure you keep your eyes locked with his, not letting him miss a single moment of your version of heaven-on-earth.
"Oh God," Clark groans, now slightly high-pitched. His eyebrows furrowing upwards, lips falling apart.
He stays there, incapable of looking away from you as your tongue began slobbering all over his cock. Tasting and tracing every vein that trail from it, like an artist mimicking lines for their piece.
You take him in your mouth, slowly and deliberately, making sure to breathe through your nose as you already feel him at the back of your throat, lips stretched to the max as you did your best to take him in, both in length and in girth.
Clark's cock is only halfway inside of your mouth when you gag, the tip hitting the back of your throat making you swallow involuntarily. His hips jerk up, chasing after the tightness of your throat as the sound finally escapes his mouth.
The sound. The whimper.
It was brief, quiet, and subtle, you wouldn't have caught it any other day but fortunately today wasn't those days. The sound makes your insides swell as Clark finally falls back on steps defeatedly. His arms stretching to the back of his head, his biceps spilling out of the sleeves of his shirt, the thought of the fabric ripping because of it making you even more motivated.
You pull off his cock with a loud breath, gasping like you had just been submerged underwater way longer than you should have been. Your hand moves up and down the remainder of his cock—the part you didn't manage to suck—your other hand coming to your lips as you spat on it loudly.
A grin comes onto your lips, Clark's eyes rolling to the back of his head when he watches you rub your spit all over his cock. Making sure every inch of him is covered by you.
You put him back in your mouth, this time having an easier time fitting him in. When you began bobbing your head up and down his cock, tongue licking the shaft, Clark's unable to control his moans. Whimpers and whines spilling from his mouth, clearly trying to use whatever sanity he has to manage the volume of his sounds.
You don't want him to, though. You want him utterly wrecked, broken, head too deep in the pleasure to even worry about who hears his beautiful sounds.
"Fuck, baby—oh god, that's…" Your sudden hand on his balls has him moving uncontrollably. Clark pulling himself up to prop on his elbows, lips red from biting it over and over again, his lust-blown eyes staring at where your hand fondled with him.
He drops his head back, feeling you swallow around his cock. One hand stroking him event faster, the other massaging his balls. Everything around him begins to blur as he slowly loses the reins of his mind.
You let him thrust inside of your mouth, keeping your breath going through your nose, letting him hear the loud and dirty sound of your gagging.
"O-oh!" He gasps loudly, eyes closing shut when you moan around his cock. Slipping off for a second to run your tongue over his bails, popping each one in your mouth before taking his cock back in. "Fuck, that feels so good baby. Don't—mhmm—don't stop, baby, please, right there."
You don't stop the smile that tries to come on your lips, every time your name slips from his mouth is like an angel whispering to you the greatest of songs.
Clark's control disappears. Abandoning his care for anything else besides you on his cock.
You do a quick motion to pull his shirt back just a bit, giving yourself some eye candy—his sweaty abs flexing—as you hurriedly try to push him off the ledge.
Clark grabs the hem of his shirt, almost pulling off his white shirt when you stop him. "I said it stays on, handsome."
He groans, dropping the fabric from his hands and putting them on either side of your head. The moment he does, you know he's got nothing else on his mind now aside from getting himself off.
Clark begins to chase after his own release. Hips thrusting into your mouth with a roughness that has you stuck on the spot. Eyes watching every strain of muscle in his features. His cock hits the back of your throat multiple times but you didn't care. Not even a bit.
All you cared about, at the moment, was letting him finish himself, letting out every bit of frustration he has about the world inside the warm inside of your lips.
"There, shit—nnghf, fuck, stay like that baby," Clark says, whiney and breathy. Pleas of your name falling endlessly.
He feels the coil in his lower stomach twist even harder. The familiar white spots appearing in his vision as he clenches his teeth together, doing his best to tip himself off the edge without accidentally hurting you.
When your fingers tighten around the base of his cock, just enough to give him mind-dizzying pressure, he looks down. Your eyes locking with his in the most erotic way you could. Then he lets go.
Clark's lips split open to let out one of the deepest groan you ever heard from him. Ropes of his cum coating the inside of your mouth as he rides out his high, grunting and whimpering every time his dick touched the softness of your cheeks.
"Shit, that was… Oh fuck," he sighs, slowly coming back down to Earth as he looks around.
You grin at him, holding your tongue out to show him his masterpiece. "Baby." he says, running his hands through his hair as the aftershocks of his orgasm still made his thighs clench.
You swallow his cum without a question. Throwing your hair to the side as you shifted in your place, peeling off your panties from underneath your skirt.
Clark smirks lazily, thinking he knows what comes next.
Unfortunately for him, you weren't done yet.
You throw your panty over to him, Clark catching it with ease before he holds it close to his face, just enough to get a whiff of your wetness on it. His eyes darkening the moment he sees it absolutely drenched.
"You did so good for me, handsome," you purr, coming on top of him to nip at the neckline of his shirt. Licking the beads of sweat twinkling down his neck. The salty taste of the liquid making you hum contentedly. "So fucking good."
"Let me take care of you now, sweets. Must be so drenched for me, huh?" Clark tries to slide off your top, running his hands all over your sides.
You chuckle, the glint in your eyes telling him something different. "I'm not done with you yet, baby. Just relax for me, m'kay?"
You sit back up, sitting on top of his thighs, your skirt bunched around your hips to give Clark a sight of what's happening to you underneath that composed facade of yours.
Clark watches you with anticipation, tongue coming out to lick his lips as he tries to prop himself up with his elbows again.
"H-hey!" Clark stutters, eyes widening when your hands grab his cock again. It was still hard, leaking, and even aching. You're not sure just one release gets the job done. "Sweets, I just came…" he breathes, voice cautiously low. "It's your turn now, c'mon. Let me take care of you." He tries to pull you up from your position, maybe even have you sit on his face as a way to return the favor.
You don't budge though. You slap his hand away with your free one, leaning down to put your face beside his cock. The lewd sound of his cock sliding in and out your palm paired with the subtle tingles of overstimulation, and your erotic eyes, it gets the same fire inside of him burning again.
"Just give me one more, Clark. One more and I'll let you take me," you pause, tilting your head to his cock, spitting on it loudly, "…however you want."
Clark glares at you, jaw clenched and body tense, his eyes holding a sense of determination that tells you he's not turning down your offer.
A proud smile comes on your lips, giving the base of his cock one kiss before you start jerking him off. Using your spit and his pre-cum to slide it smoothly. You use both of your hands now, one at the top focusing on his tip, while the other moved up and down his length.
"Mhfm," Clark groaned, his tip being too sensitive right now. His face getting warmer by the second, body clenching uncontrollably. "B-baby, it's… oh… fuck."
"Yeah?" You raise an eyebrow, taking your hands off abruptly making him thrust upwards into nothing.
He looks at you wide-eyed, shocked and confused. You only chuckle at him, slowly placing your hand by his face, open palm by his mouth. Clark stares at you, awaiting your word.
"Spit." Clark gathers up his saliva for a second before spitting it all in your hand.
You smile, thanking him sweetly before you went back to your position. Letting the feeling in his stomach subside before placing your hands back. The hand with his spit placed over his tip, swirling his own liquid around the engorged head.
It was right then did Clark understand how fucked he was. How fucking dirty all of this is.
Worst of it all, he can't even do anything. He's fully at your mercy. Having to take everything you're giving to him without a complaint.
You find your pace, wasting no time to finally get that second release you desperately wanted from him.
Clark doesn't fight it anymore. He lets out every groan, whimper, and moan he has in him. Your name being at the top of the his lungs as he continuously called out for you, begging and pleading to let him come.
"Please, baby, I'm—I'm almost there baby."
"You gonna come f'me?" You tease, batting your eyelashes innocently.
"Uh-huh, keep going," Clark nods repeatedly, his features scrunching up as he feels it start to hurt, start to tingle. Somewhere between the pain and pleasure of the overwhelming sensation—that's where he is. Almost at the top. "Yes, baby, just like that."
You decide not to torture him even more, letting him have his release as you continued to move your hands with a faster pace. The sounds of his cries slowly getting louder.
Then, you hear a voice downstairs.
"Clark? You there sweetheart?" Martha Kent.
His eyes shoot open, hand immediately slapping over his mouth to stop his own moans. He looks to you with panic, but you only smile wider.
"I've finished baking!" Martha called again. Apparently she's been looking for you as well. "When you find her, head to the kitchen, alright? I tried a new recipe for my muffins, try 'em out."
You swiftly, and carefully, move to his ear, whispering: "Answer her."
He shakes his head, "No," he says quietly.
"Now," you say, dropping one hand from his length to his balls.
Clark's eyes roll back, taking his hand off of his mouth. "Y-yeah, mom, we'll check… check it out in a bit!"
His voice was shaky, but you applaud him from even trying. Staring at him proudly, stars dancing in your eyes as you hear Martha's great! see you! in the back, footsteps slowly disappearing.
Clark releases all over your hand the moment you sit back on his thighs, wet slit touching his bare thigh. An aching and almost painful groan ripped away from his throat as more strings of cum shoot out of his cock. Generously falling down the tip and onto the base.
Clark's breathing heavily now. Chest moving up and down after what felt to be like the last orgasm in his lifeline. It was so strong—so intense, he couldn't even wrap his head around what just happened.
Why you were still smiling at him as your tongue licked up the cum dripping on his length, as if you didn't just swallow it minutes ago.
You clean him up, his cock finally softening just a bit in your hold. You move up to him, resting your chin on chest. "You’re so pretty."
Clark's weak scoff enters your ear. Arm weakly wrapping around your back. "Have I been neglecting you or what?"
You laugh at him, kissing his lips lightly. "Never stop wearing white shirts."
When you start rolling away to get up, Clark tightens his hold on you.
"Oh, baby," he shakes his head, tongue poking at his cheek. "You're not getting off that easily. Up the loft, c'mon. It's my turn."
hearts, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! xoxo
summary: clark’s always been adamant on being private with his personal life. few friends, low profile, and a hushed relationship. he can’t understand why people would want to publicize everything about their life. that is until he sees you talking to one of the school’s football players.
pairing: quarterback!clark x student body president!fem!reader
tags: tooth rotting FLUFF, legally aged students making out, established secret relationships, clark being Whipped with a capital W, slightly insecure clark, emotionally mature reader, football descriptions, no use of y/n
The faint smell of donuts and caramel coffee fill the council office as you hear the soft click of the door lock. You turn around and you're immediately met with your boyfriend, clad in his plaid blue button-up longsleeve shirt, worn-out bag slung over his shoulders, and lips immediately placing a soft kiss on your cheek.
"Woah, woah, hold it there farm boy," you laugh, placing a hand right in the middle of his chest as his kisses quickly descended to your neck. The thought of him not actually locking the door haunted your mind.
"What?" He breathes. Still continuing his attacks on the column of your neck while carefully placing your food and beverage on your table. "I missed you."
With a little more effort on your push—which was exceptionally hard considering how much Clark has improved in terms of making you lose your mind—he finally pulls away. A bummed-out pout shaping his lips.
You smile even wider. Who knew the big friendly farm boy everyone walks all over on is actually the biggest grump when he doesn't get kisses?
No one, of course. Not one soul in Smallville High School knows because your relationship with Clark isn't even out to the public. Not even your closest friend knows about it—and you're sure his closest friends don't know either.
But it's been like that for three out of the on-going four years you two have spent in Smallville High and so naturally neither of you wanted to break the streak.
You run your head through his soft brown locks, giving him a sweet kiss on the lips. Clark's face immediately lights up, already pulling you off of the table you were leaning on to exchange positions. This time, he has a better view of the blank canvas that is your collarbone.
"Missed you," he repeated. "Brought you donuts and coffee from the Talon."
"Didn't know they did deliveries again." You humor him, grabbing the brown bag and pulling a donut out. Clark watched as you point the donut at him, urging him to take a bite. With his eyes locked in yours, he takes a slow and relaxed bite. You wipe the side of his mouth with your finger before taking your own bite. Groaning when the sweet taste of the glazed donut touches your tongue.
"They allow it for certain people." Clark plays along, nodding at you. His eyes wander to the gigantic bulletin board you had in the council office, seeing almost ten listed items now struck-off with a bright red marker. "Specifically people that are overworking themselves again."
You roll your eyes, rolling to his side as you grab the cup of coffee. "Who says I was? I just did my job."
"Babe, you aren't the only one on the council. You can't just cover for everyone's jobs just 'cause they aren't doing theirs," Clark replies, watching you eat.
"Says the one that always takes on Chloe's extra load," You retort with a sly grin. "You do know that the reason most of Chloe's writers are bailing on her is because they don't like her way of gathering her news, right?" You place down the coffee, still eating your donut as you place a hand on the one Clark had resting on the table.
Clark chuckles, "Chloe's my friend, what can I say? She's been like that since fifth grade."
"At least she's passionate about it. It's so rare to see someone so committed in their craft that I can't even deny whenever Chloe asks me for an exclusive… which, mind you, is almost seven times a week." You sigh, head subtly shaking.
"Weren't you the one that wanted somebody aside from me to interview you?" Clark furrows his eyebrows, putting on a thinking face. His eyes squint, "Something along the lines of not getting work done."
Your eyes roll back, finishing the glazed donut in your hand. "Yeah, 'cause I clearly remember how we spent twenty-five minutes eating each other's faces and five minutes actually answering questions."
You throw the crumpled brown bag to the trash bin from afar. You miss, badly, but Clark's quick to distract you from your lack of shooting skills by kissing you. Again.
"Let's shorten that twenty-five minutes then," he smiles into the kiss. Snaking his arm around your waist as he could still taste the sugary taste of the donut on your tongue.
The kiss was anything but sweet. It was full of hunger, desire… and something you can't quite pinpoint. Usually Clark has his own rhythm of sucking the air out of you but this time it's messy—all over the place. Like you'd disappear any moment now if he didn't move faster.
He doesn't mistake the very subtle jingle of door handle. He hears it crystal clear and yet, he doesn't pull away. When the sound registers in your ear, you pull away without a second to think.
You immediately grab a spare folder on the other table. Clearing your throat as you looked down on it, pretending to flip through the papers. Clark on the other hand looked directly at the student who came in.
It was Adam. The same guy he saw you with earlier.
"Oh—is this a bad time? I can come by later?"
"Actually," Clark begins but you cut him off.
"No, it's fine. Do you have a concern?" You ask directly. Putting on your professional mask as you looked at Adam by the door. Ignoring how you can actually feel Clark glaring holes at the side of your face with his jaw clenched.
Adam stutters. Shifting from you to Clark, then back to you. "I, uh, I was wondering if there were any other tutors available? I'm kinda flunking Chemistry and I need to ace the upcoming test."
"Then study," you hear Clark mumble. It was a little louder than he had expected but who cares, obviously not him.
You inhale sharply, turning your head to the bulletin board for the tutoring sessions for the month. Your shoulders flunk when you see your name under the Chemistry border. The other one—Lana—was already done with her tutoring hours so it was only you left.
Your head turns to Clark. He had already seen the arrangement on the bulletin board, he was looking at you now to wait for your response to Adam's request.
"Uhm, you can take my slot. What time works for you?"
"Any time you're free." Adam smiles at you. Clark rolls his eyes.
You nod unenthusiastically. Taking the clipboard beside Clark and handing it to Adam. "You can write on the 4:30 PM row. I'll be at the library fifteen minutes prior to our schedule, and I can wait for you until quarter to five."
Adam happily writes his name, glancing up to see you and Clark exchanging looks. "Is he signing up for a tutoring class too?"
"No," the two of you say in unison.
Your eyebrows furrow slightly at Clark. The farm boy breathing deeply before he responds. "I'm asking about the, uh, football schedule," he looks at you for confirmation. When you nod approvingly, he does too. "Yeah, the football schedule."
"Oh… Well, shouldn't you be asking Coach Teague that?"
"How would you know?" Clark raises an eyebrow, sounding way sassier than you ever heard him speak. Adam looks at him with subtle surprise, masking it with a friendly smile. "Because I am in the football team?"
The air quickly shifts as Clark and Adam have a stare-down. Only broken off when you clear your throat. Adam reluctantly says goodbye, stepping out of the office with a wave directed to you.
When the door closes, you turn to Clark with your arms crossed. "What?" He groans. He knows that look all too well.
"Are you okay with me tutoring him?" You ask straightforwardly.
"Why wouldn't I be? You've tutored dozens of our classmates over the years." He shrugs. His hand slowly coming up to tug on the strap of his bag.
"You sure? 'Cause it's a yes or no question, Clark. I can have someone else cover for me if you don't want me to tutor him," you say genuinely. Brushing away the lock of hair that fell in front of his handsome face.
Clark's lips purse into a thin line as he nods, hands finding solace on your hips. "Yes, baby, I'm sure. Just… don't overwork yourself, okay? I don't want you gettin' tired from something that isn't even your job."
You bite back a smile, looking into his eyes with stars in yours while he pulls you in for a hug. Your head rests on his shoulder as you wonder to yourself—how exactly did you manage to score a man like this?
"Gotta go, handsome. I'll see you back home," you give him a chaste kiss. Using every self-control you have not to respond to Clark's obvious attempts of deepening the kiss.
The first tutoring session you had with Adam was a quick one. Adam had a pretty solid foundation, he understood the concepts clearly, his only flaw was in his application of said concepts. Usually, he'd do well on the conceptual-based questions while also failing the problems connected to it.
One session wasn't going to cut it and so he booked you for four other sessions. All of which had a longer time frame, extending thirty minutes more from the usual one and a half hour long session. That only meant that you had to spend two hours with him every Tuesday and Thursday for two whole weeks.
Now if Clark didn't find it bothersome the first time, he definitely did now.
"So, uh, we still up for six later?" Adam leans on the locker next to yours, smiling.
"Yeah, uh, sure. Of course. I'll see you at the library." You smile back. You quickly turn back to your locker and grab your things fast. Adam wasted no time diving into another subject.
"Oh, by the way, I—y'know, I really appreciate you being my tutor. I know you're juggling a lot of responsibilities and still, you never come to a session late and…" your eyebrow arches, waiting for him to finish. Thankfully, he takes the look in your face as a hint. "I was wondering if you'd let me treat you to a coffee? Just something after our session to show my thanks."
Your response arrives fast, without any hesitation. "No, Adam."
Adam gets caught off-guard by the firmness in your voice. He didn't expect you to say yes right away but he didn't exactly expect you to deny it in a split second too. He thought you'd at least think it over for a minute.
"Oh! But, it's, uh, y'know, coffee as friends. I'm not asking you out on a date," he laughs awkwardly but you could see right through him.
"I appreciate the thought, Adam, but no. If you have any questions about the lessons we're discussing, you can reach out to me—but anything else besides that, please do not." You breathe deeply. Eyes catching on the tall figure at the end of the hall, watching your encounter with Adam. "I have to go. I'll see you at the library."
You don't give Adam a second to respond, immediately slipping out of his sight only to find the end of the hall empty. No plaid-wearing farm boy in sight. You swallow on nothing, beginning to feel a thump in your chest.
It takes you some time of walking around to finally catch a glimpse of him. He was standing beside Chloe, visibly talking about something as they had laughs on their faces. You walk over to them, locking eyes with Clark in the process.
Just as you were about to walk by them—and possibly strike up some small talk—your shoulder gets nudged by your friends.
"Hey! We were looking all over for you! Did you hear the news?" Janet, your friend, says.
"What news?"
"Not-so-fresh meat just made it onto the roster. Rumor says he's starting quarterback," another friend, Rose, says. Her tone held a bit of bite to it, as if she didn't want him on the spot in the first place.
"Now that's a nice headline," a bright voice speaks. All three of you turning to the shaggy-haired blonde. "What d'you think, Clark? Not-so-fresh senior meat now starting quarterback. Kinda has a ring to me."
You tried to act naturally, chuckling at Chloe's words despite your friends glaring at them. Since he is the topic, you look at Clark. Eyes round and awaiting a response from him.
He doesn't respond though. He simply shrugs, looking at you like your were nothing before pulling Chloe away from probably stirring up a fight.
"That guy has some problems," Rose rolls her eyes, checking her nails carelessly.
"Yeah. He's already senior and he's only just tried out for football now? Damn. Talk about a late bloomer," Janet says high-fiving Rose.
"At least he's cute… right?" Janet turns to you.
"Huh?"
"Clark Kent. He's cute, right?" When Janet repeats her question, you felt something inside of you twitch. Janet's calling your boyfriend cute, and Rose's agreeing with her too. They're checking your boyfriend out. Shamelessly.
But you can't even worry about that now—your mind is filled with the way Clark looked at you moments ago. Like you were nothing. Like he hasn't met you even once.
Of course, you two hide your relationship to the school but there's always something unspoken of each time you look into each other's eyes. It's a comfort and a pleasure at the same time. A cozy blanket in the cold air. Hot chocolate every Christmas. Donuts and caramel coffee in hidden rendezvouses.
There were none of those when Clark looked at you earlier. You can't help but feel there's something wrong.
"Hey Mr. and Mrs. K! I was wondering if Clark was around?" You ask with a smile.
Your relationship with Clark may be a secret to everyone in Smallville, but his parents are a definite exception. Yours, not so much.
Jonathan and Martha share a look you recognize to be an apologetic one. "He's, uh, he's at the barn. He's been there since he got home." Martha answers with a strained smile.
You feel even weirder because Clark's parents have been nothing short of supportive. You two may have hidden the relationship from them for four months but they definitely enjoyed the idea of their son going out with you.
When you nod determinedly, turning around to head to said barn, Jonathan calls you. "Clark's, uh… you may want to be careful approaching him. He's a bit pent-up, with the football and stuff."
You nod. "Oh, of course! I'll be careful. Maybe he just needs a little cheer up."
You head over to the barn in haste. Walking up the loft to see Clark with his head down, writing something in his notebook as a stack of textbooks sat beside it.
"Knock knock." You knock on the wooden rails, letting the sound resonate through the barn.
Clark looks up from his notebook, smiling the moment he registers it was you. But you notice his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. Still, you set that aside.
"What a surprise," he replies, voice clipped. "I thought you'd be slumped up with your council work and tutoring."
"And miss out an awesome opportunity to spend time with the charming plaid-wearing farm boy? Pftt, never," you drop yourself beside him. Propping your elbow up on the backrest as you turned your body towards him.
Clark chuckles, looking back down on the coffee table as he began writing again. You felt an even stronger twitch in your body when he does that—ignore you.
He may be tired, drained, or pissed off—but he had never gone through a second of seeing you without kissing you the moment the coast was clear. He'd always sneak in the quickest of kisses even though you two would get caught if he was slower by a millisecond.
"Clark, hey," you touch his shoulder. "I missed you."
His head keeps itself in place, "Missed you too, baby. How was your day?"
"Clearly not as harsh as yours has been. Wanna talk about it? I can spend the night…" you pause. "Oh, also, I heard you're starting quarterback! How'd that happen?"
"Did you now?" He laughs dryly.
The smile on your face falters, his tone felt like a bucket of ice was dumped on your head without your knowledge. He drops his pen, leaning back on the couch as he actually looks at you for the first time this night.
"Well, the previous one was injured. I stepped in." His answer is short and direct. His voice lacking the enthusiasm you're used to. "How about your day?"
You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice.
"Clark, what's the problem?"
Clark's eyes flicker up towards yours, hurt and anxiety evident in your pupils. He feels a tinge of guilt in his chest. Licking his lips, he reaches out for you only for you to pull away.
"Did I do something wrong?" You question. Though no matter how firm your voice was, Clark knew it was close to breaking.
"No, no, baby, you did nothing wrong—" Clark's voice rises as he panics. Fully reaching out to you so he can pull you to his chest. "It's… it's me, okay? I… I just—" he takes in a deep breath. "Don't you think it's time we made our relationship public?"
It's clear that you were surprised with his question. The sharp inhale and your raised eyebrows gave it away no doubt. But why wouldn't you be? Not once has Clark ever thought about making your relationship public. In fact, he was the one that actually proposed it in the first place.
You tried your best to understand him though. "Is there a reason why you want to make our relationship public?"
"Babe, we've been hiding our relationship for three years. We started when we were sophomores, we're seniors now. No one can worry about us anymore. We're graduating in a few months—who cares by now?" This is the first time his voice actually held some energy to it. His hands intertwined with yours as he looks at you for approval.
"Clark, I know when you're lying," you say. Clark's throat bobbing up and down as he clenches his jaw. You place a hand on his cheek, your other hand running through his hair comfortingly, "You know you can tell me anything, Clark. Let's talk about this like adults."
It takes him a second to actually decide to speak, and another second to construct the words in his head. "I don't like how people still think you're single," he starts. "The guys talk about you, people in the hall talk about you… I hear so many promises from people that they'll ask you out either after the game or after graduation—regardless, I can't even respond. I can't tell them that you're my girlfriend because in the first place, no one knows about us—no one'd believe me." You feel his heart beat faster. The continuous thump underneath his chest makes your stomach flip as well.
"Call me selfish, but I can't take it when other people look at you and think that they can have you." His voice drops, hands tightening on yours.
"Like Adam?"
A scoff comes from him. "Yeah, like Adam. Have you even heard half of the stuff he says about you in the locker rooms?" Clark's voice raises. His sharp features straining furiously before he feels your hand tighten around his. It prompts him to raise your intertwined hands, kissing your knuckles. "It's nothing bad, baby, believe me. He wouldn't be walkin' straight if they were bad. It was just that he's so in his head that he actually thought he can take you out on a date."
"So this is about Adam?" You arch a brow, testing the waters. When Clark shakes his head, looking away to hide the smile on his face, you laugh. "Well, y'know, farm boy, he actually just asked me out earlier."
"I know. I heard."
"Then you also heard what I responded with?" Your lips widen slowly.
He sighs, turning his head back to you. "Yes, I did."
You smile at him. He returns it, ten times wider than yours. Your heart flips as the smile finally reaches his eyes—finally feeling right.
Quiet envelopes you both. A comfortable silence before you snuggle on his lap, resting your head on his muscular chest. "I understand how you feel, baby."
One of the things Clark loved about you was your ability to always have him heard and understood. Even the dozens of times he's missed your dates, suddenly cancelling unannounced; you've always been there for him with a patient mind, an awaiting ear… and probably a grumpy attitude when Clark specifically dipped on a day you were really looking forward to.
Now, one thing definitely changed; if before you had to trap him in the barn, force him to be honest and say his feelings, you were content that now all you had to do was talk to him sincerely and directly, no interruptions, and no hotheads.
"Does this mean we're going public?" Clark asks cautiously.
You lift your head, letting your chin rest on the center of his chest. "Just do good on the game tomorrow, 'kay farm boy? We'll see how the day goes."
It wasn't the answer Clark wanted, but he accepted it. It was better than giving him the hard no.
And so you laid there the whole night, trying your best to stay awake while Clark told you about his day. His hands running aimlessly through your hair and body until you fell asleep. When you did, he took you to his bedroom and let you sleep there.
A soft and tender kiss on your forehead to end the night.
Loud roars of the crowd could be heard from any side of the field.
The bleachers were packed with people, majority came from Smallville High while some were from the rival school playing. It's been quite some time since the game started and yet, it still feels like a win can be called any moment now.
You were there—since the very start—sitting at the very front row with Chloe by your side. Your friends Janet and Rose sitting away where the cheerleaders were sat. Each time you watched Clark fall short of a goal, you could feel your heart thump even harder.
Way before the game started, you had another little rendezvous with Clark. Giving him the best good luck charm in the form of red lace—which God knows where he kept—and a kiss on the cheek.
Clark's been training for this game for so long now. Weeks of hardworking and sweat come to this very day where he finally gets to earn his teammates' respect.
31-28, in favor of the opponent.
The air gets struck out of your system when you see the opposing team score another point. Slowly building on their lead against the Crows. Your teeth unconsciously nibbles on your lower lip, pulling and biting the soft tissue as you prayed for a plot twist.
"C'mon Clark, c'mon," you mumble under your breath. Glancing at Jonathan and Martha from a far as they too shared nervous and worried looks.
You hear a ring from somewhere, and suddenly they're all splitting into their respective teams. "The Crows asked for a time out," Chloe says. You nod, noting that on the pad of paper that Chloe gave you earlier. Both of you have been noting game highlights since the start of the game.
"Should we try interviewing them?" The blonde was already standing when she asks you that, eyes narrowed at the group of players bundled far from them.
"No." You shake your head. Chloe looks at you weirdly, you sounded way too energetic. "It's not really the best time, Chloe."
Seven seconds remain on the clock. All players head back to the center line as the game resumes back. Your eyes lock with Clark despite the distance. You could barely make out the expression on his face while he could clearly see yours—full of anxiety and hope, hands in a prayer position in the middle of your face.
With a new found drive to make you proud, he turns to the front to look at the opposing team.
You watch as all of the players scramble fast as soon as the clock began. Clark inhaled, clocking his arm back before throwing the football with all of his human force, every fiber in his being hoping that the other quarterback is able to catch it before the time ran out.
The football felt like it was on air for more than five minutes. Every head in the football grounds followed the brown ball as it made its way across the field, every person holding in their breaths as the second player reached up as the time hit two seconds.
On the last second, he lands a touchdown.
Happiness shoots through your body as you jump with Chloe on the stands. Lungs screaming Clark's name as thunderous cheers filled the space, loud enough to even make the ground shake. The players run over to Clark, crashing into him while he throws away his helmet, eyes immediately searching for you. Just you.
Your heart begins beating faster, the idea in your head being thrown away as your legs move on their own.
Clark watches as you rush down the bleachers, sliding past everyone and anyone in your way. Confusion hits him for a second until he finally understands what you're going to do. Shrugging off his teammates, he runs over to the bleachers' side, the amount of adrenaline running in his veins was almost enough to push him to super speed onto your side and lift you up—almost.
The moment you reach the ground, Clark's already jumping over the fence, catching you in his arms.
"Clark!" You yell out, feeling his strong arms tighten around your waist as he spins you around. Your hair moves with the wind as it splatters messily all over Clark's face, his lips stretched into the widest and biggest smile you've ever seen from him. "You did—"
Your words are cut off as Clark lifts you even higher, crashing his lips into yours. The outside world is anything but a figment of his imagination now that he has you in his arms just after winning his first game as a quarterback—and the best thing of it all, was that it was in front of the whole school.
The deafening sound of cheers and wolf whistles make you smile into the kiss, head subtly pulling back only for Clark to hungrily chase after you, not letting you up so easily. When he finally does, with his lips all puffy and swollen, he's staring at you with nothing but affection.
"A real quarterback now, huh?" You tease, smirking lightheartedly at him.
Clark rolls his eyes, lunging forward to give you another kiss on your lips. "Not really, just your boyfriend."
You lose yourself in his smile, only to be pulled away from it when your head moves to the side. You see Clark's parents looking at you two with proud smiles while beside them were his friends—all of which had a shocked look on their faces.
Clark squeezes your side to get your attention back. A contented look grows on his face as he keeps his hold around you, making the moment last just a little longer before you two face the outcome of whatever just happened.
"Ready to put me down, farm boy?"
"Never.”
hearts, reblogs, and comments are highly appreaciated if you loved the fic !
summary: having a puppy crush on one of your regulars is definitely not for the weak. you learned that the hard way when you catch hange zoë, the tall and attractive scientist, together with a pretty blonde the same day you planned on asking them out.
pairing: scientist!hange zoë x fem!barista!reader
warnings: corny pick-up lines / hidden pining / mikasa, connie, sasha as part-timers!!! / no smut (yet) / kissing / reader is kindaaaa insane nd ovulating lol / inaccuracies on coffee making and science stuff / hange is awkward / levi and erwin special appearances / reader feels very deeply!!! / hange is afab but goes by they/them :) / wc: 8,976
a/n: can’t find the artist for the center, lmk if u know them !!
part two
The first time you saw them walk in, your heart practically teleported into your eyes. You had no doubt that anyone who'd seen you during that shift would've described you anything else besides the physical embodiment of heart eyes.
Tall, lean, articulate, and... oh, have you mentioned tall already?
Hange, their name was.
Every time they'd walk into the cafe, your mind immediately goes into overdrive with every thought popping inside of your measly head. Their name branding itself like a trademark.
You assure yourself that this is nothing but a simple happy crush. That each time you write Where have you bean all my life ;) or You're brew-tiful, it's nothing but a little gimmick to spice up your rather calm and boring life.
Each time you call out their name in the smoothest, flirtiest way you could, they'd always smile at you shyly before muttering a lighthearted thanks. Walking out with the ignored coffee note in their hand and a nerdy red hue on their face.
Today was no different.
Mikasa personally hands you the tall coffee cup, already knowing you'd prefer writing Hange's name yourself.
You grab a burgundy marker, writing the five-letter name plus a heart and a sparkle beside it. Already feeling giddy as you write out a new one-liner you read online.
This must be decaf, cause you're just dreamy!
A small laugh leaves your lips. Half because of how stupid you probably look like to the other baristas working the shift right now, and the other half because you know Hange only ever takes decaf.
From all the times you've managed to make their coffee, it's always the same order: one large hazelnut latte, decaf, with two extra pumps of hazelnut syrup.
Sometimes, you think if they're feeling particularly happy about the day, they'd order a second time—a decaffeinated cookie butter latte with extra salted caramel cold foam. You don't know what goes on in their laboratory, but it must be something extreme if they're buying coffee that tastes like that.
"I have a hazelnut latte for Hange," you sing-song softly, leaning over the counter with a smile your mother told you could charm an elephant dead with. You hope it could charm this tall scientist walking over right—
"For Hange?" They clarify, smiling sheepishly. One that has their eyes crescent-shaped.
Unknowingly, you take your bottom lip in between your teeth. "For Hange."
They nod, adjusting their glasses as they lean over to the small counter to the side to grab a cup sleeve and some tissue. You feel a nudge on your shoulder. Connie. He was wriggling his eyebrows at you, subtly jerking his head towards them.
You narrow your eyes at him before turning back to the counter. They were just in the middle of slipping on the cupsleeve when you cleared your throat.
Brown eyes peer up at you. Big and round, drawing you in until it's all you could see.
You feel that same nudge but this time it's from under the counter. Connie's definitely hitting your ankle with his foot. You make a mental note then to buy him a meal from the diner across the street.
"It's a nice day out, huh?"
You mentally slap yourself. It was fucking raining, idiot!
An awkward round of silence ensues between you two. Hange throwing a look over their shoulder and to the wide window overlooking the wet streets. "Y-yeah! It's, uh, it's really nice y'know... if you wanna get wet in the rain or somethin' like that."
You really fucked up this time, you think to yourself.
Unable to shake off the embarrassment gnawing at your insides as Hange looks at you with a confused smile. Probably trying to keep themselves looking friendly enough so you wouldn't think of poisoning their coffee next time.
"Sorry, she just hasn't gotten her caffeine fill yet. Not really good with small talk," Connie interjects, bumping shoulders with you.
You widen your eyes at him, about to respond with something that'd probably either make the situation more awkward or make you look like a bitch when their sweet, sweet laugh fill your ears.
"Oh, no, it's fine!" They shift their eyes from Connie to yours. The awkwardness from their earlier smile now gone. "You're good. We've all been there. See, I like rain anyway. It makes job at the lab surprisingly easier."
"Really? How come?" You found yourself asking.
You notice the shift in their features. The surprise washing through their face in a refreshing wave. A small smile grows on their lips as they speak.
"Well, it's actually hard getting a pure water source. Tap water, even without it being extensively filtered, is still filtered and also unintentionally contaminated. That makes it difficult to use during experiments," their eyes keep yours locked, words flowing with such certainty that you'd think you have a script taped directly on your forehead. "Filtered and purified water, they've been enhanced chemically. It's a better choice but not the best choice. Rain water is pure water. It's free from contamination as long as retrieved in an open space, and it's not tampered with chemically," they pause, lips widening in a way that shows teeth, "It's the best choice if you ask me!"
You don't exactly remember where they began and where they finished. You were way too entranced with the way they spoke so knowledgeably about something. In such a cadence that lacked the patronizing tone you had grown used to as a child.
Seeing them look smart is one thing, hearing and witnessing them actually be smart without being such an arrogant prick is an entirely different thing.
If it weren't for the continuous ringing of the bell by the counter, you would've kept asking them about it. Kept on asking even the dumbest things just to hear the smooth sound of their voice talk again and again.
"You'd definitely have to let her visit you sometime," Connie says, drifting all around the floor with numerous cups in his arms. "She's a real curious spirit beneath those nasty aprons!"
"Hey!" You hiss at him, turning sharply.
Hange chuckles at you both, "Of course! You can definitely come by! Just let me know and I'll... I'll, uh, clean up the lab for your visit."
"M-my visit?" You feel the butterflies crash into each other. Air suddenly caught in the middle of your throat.
A beat passes by with you two staring at each other.
Then, they stammer, pathetically, "Yeah—I mean, well, uh, if you want to! I know how busy is it and... Oh! Uh—speaking of, I'll get outta your guys' hair! Can't believe I've been hogging you two all to myself," they laugh again, this time with a hint of awkwardness laced in their voice. They definitely noticed the small circle forming behind them waiting for their coffee.
You can hog me all you want, Hottie, you think, giggling inwardly. I'll throw away all these cups if that meant you'd tell me more about the benefits of rainwater.
You watch as Hange walks away. Throwing the bar one last look over their shoulder before leaving the glass doors of the cafe.
"Oh my god," you finally breathe. Knees suddenly growing weak as you grip the counter to stabilize yourself like a pathetic fifteen year-old having her first kiss.
You look behind you, "Connie, you fucking imbecile."
Connie scoffs, crashing into your shoulder with a light bump to get you moving. "Hey, I saved you from making a complete fool out of yourself!"
"You made me look like an idiot!" You whisper-yell.
"You did that to yourself, boss," he shrugs, taking the empty cup in your hands and replacing it with another. This time a paper coffee cup instead of the normal plastic ones.
You sigh, still replaying that last smile of theirs paired with an exchange of have a nice day! to each other. You'd definitely have a nice night... not sure about a nice day though considering the line of empty cups begging for your attention.
When the bulk of the customers eventually disperse after the morning rush, you're left to sitting idly on one of the stools at the far side of the bar. Mikasa waited patiently at the counter for any customers coming in, meanwhile Connie busied himself by making his own drink.
"Hey, Connie, did you see if they noticed my note on their cup?" You put your chin to the counter, resting your head sideways.
"Nah," he says. "I don't think anyone really looks at the stuff on their cup anymore. You can probably draw a dick on it and they wouldn't notice," a chuckle finishes his words, grinning at you like a little shit.
"What great observation," you reply, eyes rolling back in sheer annoyance.
You put your attention on your other staff. "What about you, Mikasa? D'you think they noticed my pick-up line?"
"Ew, you wrote a pick-up line?"
"Shut up!" You hiss at Connie, murmuring under your breath a second later, "I always do."
Mikasa purses her lips, already telling you an answer before she even gives one. "I didn't really notice them, boss," she gives you an apologetic smile, bringing her own cup of coffee to her lips. You drop your forehead to the counter with a loud groan. "but, well, for what it's worth, I think they seemed fairly happy talking to you earlier."
"What!" You shoot up.
Connie immediately ticks his head, "Wrong move, Mikasa."
In the blink of an eye, you easily cross over the counter and shoulder up with Mikasa. Your eyelashes flutter at her, face resting on your palms, "Tell me more."
"Uhh... you know, it's nothing, I just—" you shake your head, assuring her you'd love to hear about her thoughts. "—every time I see them, they rarely look happy. Always occupied. Then earlier, when you asked about the weather, they laughed."
Mikasa glances at you, then back at the customer in front of them, "Ah, well, don't take my words to heart. I'm just saying what I saw... and I think they were genuine when they said you could come by their lab." The squeal that leaves you was almost as loud as the way she closes the cash register.
"Really? Shit, I knew it was an invitation. Do you think they like me? Wait, oh god, imagine our first date at the laboratory!" You stomp your feet excitedly, drifting around the small space, hitting the shoulders of those nearest to you—which was, of course, Connie. "Mikasa, you are a genius! I knew it, I knew I hired you for a damn reason."
"To validate your delusions?" she almost seemed against hearing your answer.
Unfortunately, you let out a loud yes! to that very question. Ignoring all the stares from the customers waiting for their drink. You grab a waiting cup, taking a quick second to read the order.
"Don't get your hopes up, boss. A scientist that good looking is definitely tied," Connie, ever the pessimist, brings up. You all but fire him on the spot for such a thought.
"Actually, I think they're single."
To you, the world stills.
Mikasa's words hanging in the air like stars from the very sky themselves.
"How'd you know?" you and Connie drift over to her, carrying your own respective cups. The hopeful glint in your eyes rivaling that suspicious one in his.
She sighs, crossing her arms, finally relieved of her work as all the customers finally finish ordering. "My friend Armin is their TA. I think Armin mentioned Hange taking multiple overtimes in the laboratory."
"And that implied they're single?" You blurt out. Forehead creasing heavily as you stare at her dumbfounded.
"Hmm..." Connie shovels ice into the cup, lips jutting out in thought. "Yeah, I'm with you on that, Mikasa. I think they're single too."
You raise your eyebrows at him.
"C'mon, boss. Would someone in a relationship spend all their time holed-up in a lab?" He scoffs, puffing his shoulders like an idiot. "Of course not! They're probably burying themselves there for a lack of a significant other."
You smack the back of his head with the side of your elbow, receiving a complaint in return. "Don't use fancy words, Connie. It sounds weird."
"Excuse me?"
"I agree. That was pretty out of character," Mikasa adds.
You stifle a chuckle. Finishing the cup of iced coffee for a moment of reflection before you find yourself back at Mikasa's side.
"So, this friend of your's is their TA," Mikasa hums thoughtfully. "Did this friend ever mentioned seeing Hange anywhere else aside from the university? Maybe an apartment nearby I can add into my daily walk?"
"Wow, you've graduated from a barista to a stalker now," Connie remarks.
"Not really. Armin never mentioned anything like that. He says Hange's always at the lab, that all Hange ever talks about is their experiments. Though Armin really looks up to them so they must be a really nice person," Mikasa shares. Suddenly, she perks up, a brush of red already coloring her cheeks.
Your eyebrows knit. Mikasa's always calm and composed. She hardly ever looks tense or shy. But, you hear the bells on the door chime ever so softly. You turn your head, ready to look at either a sleep-deprived university student or a tired corporate worker, only to see a rather young-looking man.
You glance back at Mikasa. God, you know that look all too well. That poor girl's entranced. Bewitched, even.
That's how you look at Hange so you know it very well!
On that note, you scoot yourself over to the open counter. Finishing up the remaining pending orders in record time.
"Is that her boyfriend?" You throw a look at the pair by the cashier.
"Think so. I know Mikasa has a boyfriend but she never really showed me his picture," Connie responds, giving them the same look over his shoulder.
"They look... like it's their first time meeting," you comment, taking note of the way they stood so straight with each other. How their faces barely looked bright. Mostly they just talked, voices too quiet for the two of you to eavesdrop in anyway.
You watch as the brunette man adjusts the red scarf on Mikasa's neck. The small gesture made Mikasa sink into the thick piece of fabric even more. He lets a small smile come on his face before a jarring, annoying voice fills the cafe.
"I have an Iced Americano for Eren!"
Today, you have a plan.
Today, it's a Wednesday.
Wednesdays always meant Hange has some free time to spend an hour in the cafe with their cup of decaf and banana muffin heated for exactly two minutes. So, today, you plan on actually making a move on them.
Not just silly little notes on their cup, no. Today, you plan on actually going up to them and taking them up on their invitation the other day. The one where they'd happily take you out mid-shift, show you to their lab, maybe a little kiss here and there, then they'll bring you to the park and plan both of your futures while watching the stars—
"I can't believe you actually got dressed up today."
"Dressed up for what?" Sasha, your third part-timer, the one subbing for Mikasa today, asks out.
"For her parasocial crush on this innocent scientist working at our university," Connie deadpans.
He'd been in charge of making everyone's morning cup of coffee for the day, and so he slides a hot mug in front of you while an iced one to Sasha. She was already eating a pizza bun when he did.
"Scientist? Dr. Zoë?" She asks with a mouth full of food.
"You know them?" You gasp, clutching their shoulder.
Her big brown eyes widen with a particular bite, her cheeks expanding to twice its usual size. "Yeah thmm armnghh pre—"
"Oh, dear, eat your food first," you grimace. Connie laughing loudly as he points out how much Sasha likes the new kind of pastry. When Sasha finally manages to swallow the thick bite of bread, she swipes her mouth with the back of her hand.
"I was saying... They're pretty popular on campus, y'know? Them, Professor Ackerman, and Professor Smith," Sasha starts, taking a sip of her coffee. "I heard their classes were real tough. They extend classes for an hour or two before finally letting the students leave." She eyes you carefully before sighing, "At least they're tall."
"I knoooow," you drag, draping yourself over the counter with a lovesick smile. "Aren't they so dreamy?"
Connie rolls his eyes at you both, "You really gotta get yourself out there, boss. Go on a date for once."
"I am! I'll be taking Hange up on their invitation to their lab, remember?"
"They invited you? Really?" Sasha looks at you with wide eyes, hand instinctively planting itself on your shoulder.
"It wasn't an invite," Connie says before you could even speak.
"It is an invite."
"Nuh-uh. Didn't you see how they were trying to run away from us when I asked them about it?"
You scoff, "Yeah, well Connie, anyone'd run away if it's you asking them."
"For your information, I've gone on a date," Connie says with his entire chest. You already know what's coming next. "You haven't. And, what, you're a full on adult now meanwhile I'm still a college student?"
"An unemployed college student if you don't shut up," you snicker, sending him a death glare from where you stood.
"I'm just saying... If you really plan on approaching the poor scientist later, make sure you don't make a fool out of yourself like last time," he says, singing his words as if seeing him wasn't enough of an annoyance to you already.
The three of you head back to work at the drop of seven. People already ushering in to pile up for the morning rush.
Sasha manned the counter while you and Connie worked on the usual coffee and pastries. Before, you used to have their roles reversed. With Connie at the cashier and Sasha at the bar. Unfortunately you found that combo highly likely to lead to the cafe's bankruptcy.
Hour ten rolls by and your tall, brunette scientist is still nowhere to be seen. You could feel a significant decrease in your energy the longer you spend the day not seeing even so much as a glimpse of them.
By now the morning rush has already died down. Your cafe regulars sitting quietly at their spots with their laptops, typing away whatever it is they're doing. You make yourself another cup of coffee, pouring two espresso shots in your personal glassware before slipping to the storage. You rummage through the racks. Eyes shining when you see that good ole vodka bottle on the farthest part of the rack.
You pour two shots into your glassware, fighting back the smile as you put the bottle back.
"Oh my god," you let out a contented moan, inhaling the remaining scent of espresso in your glass before it gets totally overpowered by the alcohol. The liquid slides down your throat, the slight burn keeping you sane. "This is perfect. I'm perfect. I can do this," you look at your reflection bouncing from the steel fridge, "you can do this."
You quickly fix the storage rooms for a quick minute. Arranging the cardboard boxes so they weren't crowding the floor. Throwing out all the plastic lying around and peeling off the random strips of packaging tape one of your part-timers neglected to direct to the trash.
You were about to head back to the bar when a figure blocks you head on.
It was Connie.
A smiling, scratching-the-back-of-his-head Connie.
"What are you doing?" You ask suspiciously.
"Hey boss!" He says with an oddly loud voice. "I think you should take a break. Me and Sasha got this. There's no customers... not until the lunch break anyway."
Your forehead creases, "What the hell are you talking about?" You take a step forward and immediately he moves to block the small entryway off with his body. "Connie, I will actually smack you in the head if you don't move."
"I swear, boss! We can take it from—" You push past Connie with a glare. Throwing off the arm he put up trying to stop you.
The regret seeps in right after you did that. The sight that greets you, waiting ever so patiently at the bar, was a hundred times stronger than the vodka espresso you had moments prior; Your tall, brunette scientist stands at the bar, a beautiful blonde right beside them wearing the same white coat you previously envisioned Hange wearing as they take you out on that laboratory date.
When their mouth opens and you see the genuine smile that rests on their lips, the laughter coming from something the blonde has said, your heart actually aches.
Like actually aches.
You haven't experienced a heart attack yet, but you fathom it'd be somewhat similar to what you were feeling right now.
It was way past closing time now. The three of you had waited for Mikasa's class to finish so she can come by the actual debrief. Now, you laid down on one of the couches with your arm draped over your forehead, shoulders slumped, spirits down lower than hell.
An actual cocktail sat on the coffee table for you, while your employees had their own beverages. Mikasa still had her dri-fit shirt on, sipping an electrolyte drink her boyfriend apparently got her. Clearly your personal love life was way more important than whatever plans these three part-timers have.
"I don't understand, were you two together?" Sasha's the one starting the conversation. A burger in her hand from the diner across the street.
"No," you drag out the word.
"Oh. Then is it a crush?"
You can't see the three of them since your eyes were closed, but had they been open, you already know both Connie and Mikasa would be shaking their heads at her.
"It could have been a date," you say, voice devastated. "It could have been a date, guys! Imagine. I could have been at the university right now. They could have been showing me around right now, we could have been flirting—god, we could have been flirting!"
A warm presence comes beside you. Mikasa. She has that usual apologetic look on her face as she sits on the nearby stool.
"Are you sure they have a girlfriend? Like really sure?"
"Uh-huh," you groan her name, turning around the couch like a child. "They were so close. Literally. Their shoulders were touching. Hange was even laughing at something she said... I've never seen them laugh like that! Connie saw it too—right, Connie?"
He hums, lazily scrolling through his phone. "I think Hange even carried the umbrella for them both."
You sob, though not really the real thing, "God, shut up, will you?"
Connie does a zipper motion with his hands. Out of the three, he was the one that received the bulk of your mopping during the day. Having to hear you rant about that single moment during the entire shift, each drink being made was sprinkled with a little bit of despair for toppings.
By now he was pretty much immune to your lousy sobs and sudden mood changes.
"Hey, at least that means you can get over your crush and actually find someone to date!" Sasha suggests, bright and happy. "That is what we want... right? You to date someone?"
"No, I want to date them," you admit.
"Huh, I thought it was just a happy crush?" Connie questions.
"What do you mean happy crush, I literally styled my hair just for today!" You exclaim, sitting up on the couch. The three of them all looked like they had different opinions about the situation.
Mikasa's the most concerned. Still nursing your shoulder with soothing rubs like an older sister does to their younger sister, only now the role's are reversed because for once it's you who's unlucky with romance and not her. She's probably the most supportive of your little infatuation with Hange. Always handing you the counter whenever they're ordering, always encouraging you to keep on writing those silly little notes on coffee cups.
Connie just seems oblivious over the entire situation but trust he feels quite apologetic about it. He kept you company the entire day. Trying to brighten your day with his jokes of utmost stupidity and despair. He even let you take over the remaining orders for a while, anything to get your mind off of that tall, brunette scientist. After all, he was the one that stirred up this whole lab date with you and Hange.
Sasha barely takes morning shifts so she seldomly witness you gush about Hange. When she does, it mostly you discreetly writing love notes on Hange's cup, nothing more than that. Though you do talk about your interactions with Hange in the cafe group chat a lot, Connie's pretty much brainwashed her to think it's just some lousy happy crush.
"Should I just give up?" You ask. The words feeling heavier than you anticipated.
Truth be told, you never really expected this happy crush to be so consuming. You never expected to think about them day and night, each time you get home and see your empty apartment. You never expected to wait for their presence every morning at the cafe, waiting for their usual order of hazelnut latte with two extra pumps of hazelnut syrup.
It was supposed to be just a crush. Something you foolishly started just so you don't feel bored and lonely every time you go about the mundane task of managing the cafe.
"Up to you, boss. There's plenty of good looking people coming by the cafe," Connie responds, stretching his arms out.
"Yeah, some of them even ask for your number!" Sasha adds.
You laugh dryly, letting a tired smile come on your lips.
"It's you who don't give your number," Mikasa notes, nudging you casually on the shoulder.
"I guess," you sigh, defeated.
You finally let them go now. Adamant on letting them go home before the streets get too empty. You do the last checks in the storage rooms and at the back door, moving to the entrance as you start locking up.
The walk to your apartment is quick and quiet. The sweet bald doorman you usually brought coffee to at the end of the day greeting you with a smile.
At your apartment, your shoulders slump almost immediately. Dropping off your bag at the couch, kicking off your shoes, and heading straight to the daybed you set up by your window.
The image of them laughing a few feet from the counter haunts you every time you close your eyes. Her blonde hair against their brunette hair. The height difference perfect for forehead kisses, or roughhouse hugs where their arms engulf your entire body, pulling yourclose enough that their scent invades your every sense—leaving you a signature of what romance is... or what it could have been, rather.
You imagined it so perfectly.
The idea of you and Hange going on coffee dates, learning about each other's preferences. You coming by their workplace just to drop off an extra cup of coffee and a kiss on their cheeks. Them staying at your cafe after hours, waiting until you've closed out so they could walk you home—or you walking them to theirs, you don't really care. The very idea, after all, was you and them spending the mundane moments together, filling it with a sense of familiarity and companionship.
Their oddly interesting fun facts revolving around everything science. Your cheesy coffee-related pick-up lines.
The story you'd tell your future children was already written in your mind.
Yes, you're insane.
Yes, you don't think you're the one to blame. It's your therapist from years ago that told you delusion is another way of manifestation.
You truly wonder how such a simple crush could snowball into this... whatever this is!
There's a wine glass on the counter as you finish your evening bath. Thirty-minutes in the bathroom with your trusty friend Eleanor certainly boosted your mood in a way. You pour yourself a generous amount, then a bowl of freshly popped microwave popcorn, taking both as you head to your couch.
For the next few days, you don’t bother showing yourself to the bar. Tending to all of the administrative tasks needed at the backrooms: managing inventories, balancing numbers, looking through résumés of potential employees—you name it, you did it.
You always check the clock before heading out to the actual cafe, deadly committed to making sure you don't catch even a single glimpse of that person. Whenever the coast's clear, you're helping Miche with the drinks.
Miche, the only other full-time employee besides you, who just recently come back from a week-long mandatory vacation.
Contrary to Connie, Miche's a silent worker. He barely talks. Whether to you or the customers — matter of fact he sniffs them more than talks to them. God knows the amount of customer complaints you've received because of it. You don't even think he gets along with the others part-timers.
The only good thing about it is he never fails in making his coffees. No complaints. Perfect brew every time.
Today, you walk back to the storage rooms, about to go continue whatever it was you'd left unfinished, not really feeling the vibe to lounge around one of the tables like you used to do.
"Fuck!" Miche hisses, immediately stopping you in your steps.
Turning around, you see him with his palm towards the customers, head bowing apologetically as liquid pools at the bottom of his shoes, shards of glass littered across.
"I'll take care of it," you mumble, darting out to get the mop at the back when Miche grabs your arm. "It's fine," he grunts, "I'll clean it up. That one's only missing a caramel cold foam anyway." You look to the cupholder, three out of four slots filled.
"Sure," you nod.
You turn around, bending your knees to open that small steel fridge where the cold foams were kept, heading back to the bar once you got it.
Even after you've poured the cold foams on top, sealing the drink up with a lid and placing it on the now-full cupholder, you hadn't realized how familiar the appearance of the drink was. Or, how there was only ever one customer who willingly chose caramel cold foam on their coffee.
The realization sets in a few moments after the group of coffees get picked up by some stone-faced guy named Levi.
You had your back resting against the counter, stunned as you hold up a new empty cup, still too busy with your thoughts to begin with the new order. Before you could even begin to calculate the very possibility of them being there, you hear a hand land on the smooth slab of the open counter.
"What's—"
Words seem to erase themselves from your mind as you're face-to-face with a scowling Hange. Their thick eyebrows furrowed, black eyeglasses resting on the crown of their head as they squint at their cup.
"Hey, uh, I'd like to file a complaint?" They pause, rotating their cup as if looking for something, "There's nothing written on my cup. It's been that way two times now. Usually the barista would..." their eyes finally land on you, a still and unmoving image of you still clutching an empty cup in your hand. "...write a, well, something on it."
The two of you stand there utterly dumbfounded. You could feel the apples of your cheeks blooming with color already, your hands heating up—whether from embarrassment or not is something you're not sure right now—you hope they don't notice it.
You don't remember how long the two of you stand there. If not for that same man—the one that took the cupholder—walking behind Hange and clearing his throat, the two of you probably would have stayed way longer.
"I, uh—well, I haven't seen you these past few days," Hange chuckles awkwardly. Dropping down their glasses back to the bridge of their nose and shyly brushing the front pieces of their hair. "I thought you were, uhm, sick? I hoped you weren't though," they laugh again, this time louder and a lot more gracelessly.
You lick your lips. Every voice screaming in your head to just speak.
"Thanks for the thought, I guess," you say as you pull on a tight smile, "I... I wasn't really feeling all that well."
"Really?" Their voice heightens, "Why? What happened? Are you dizzy? Should you be working right now?! It's hard working sick. Are you missing a few workers? Maybe you guys can close up early so you can rest," words leave their mouth like a machine gun, spilling out endlessly with that tone of urgency and worry that has you feeling butterflies fluttering inside of you.
You laugh shyly, looking away from the intense brown orbs staring at you, "I'm fine now! Don't worry about it, Doc."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah." You nod, pursing your lips.
They nod as well, slower than you did, one eye narrowing as if checking for the validity of your words. That man from before walks by one more time, clearing his throat again, prompting Hange to hand their cup to you.
You raise an eyebrow, gaze flicking from the small dorky smile on their face to the blank cup. "My name's Hange Zoë. I don't think we've been properly introduced to each other."
Replying back with your name, you jerk your head towards them, "The cup?"
"Ah! Well, you weren't here the past few days, you weren't here earlier when I got my first cup too. You can write my name on here now," they explain, the smile on their lips widening until it practically brightened up their whole face.
You feel something warm blossom inside of you, fighting the urge to smile back as you grab the marker on your apron's pocket. Before you can touch the cup, Hange uses the sleeve of their white coat to wipe the condensation off. A small dry space left for your writing.
Focus! You're moving on, remember?
You shake your head subtly, proceeding to write the five letters of their name and pulling away.
"You forgot the note."
"Excuse me?"
"I mean the note. You always put a note on my coffee. Usually they're pick-up lines but—"
"Hange, we have to go," a tall, blond, hair-gelled man in a formal attire comes by behind Hange now, his voice was deep and sophisticated. "We're going to be late for the lecture."
"Yeah, I'm comin'! Just a sec," Hange says, turning their back at you expectantly.
You swallow down on nothing, biting the inside of your cheek, "I can't think of anything to write."
Complete lie. You memorized fifty pick-up lines related to coffee after the first time you saw Hange.
Disappointment washes over their features only to be replaced by a hopeful one a few seconds later. "Of course you can! C'mon, don't be pressured by them. The lecture's not staring for the next—" they look at their wrist, smiling, "—two minutes!"
"Fine, whatever... don't look at it now, though. Look at it later," you tell them.
"Of course."
Once you've finished, you can't help but comment, "I didn't know you read them before." Looking away as you speak, too flustered to look at them straight.
Their response comes in a few moments later, in a quieter voice as well, "I do read them... a lot of times, actually. I—Levi! What's with the pulling!" their shoulder gets pulled before they can even finish their sentence.
"That's enough flirting, four-eyes. We gotta go," the man says monotonously. He spares you a glance, "Apologies. You two can continue this another time."
"It's okay," you say, unsure. "And we weren't flirting, by the way."
Hange makes a noise of protest, a laugh escaping you as you watch them try to pull off Levi's hand on their shoulder all the while the hair-gelled man held the door open for them, waving at you.
Your shoulders relax, finally. The moments that had just gone by only registering to you now as you feel a plethora of emotions run through you.
They noticed me being gone. They were looking for me every time. They read my notes. They wait for my notes. They—don't they have a girlfriend?
"Where's my coffee?" A customer speaks out, tone displeased.
You snap out of it, blinking a few times before bowing apologetically. Your body turns around and Miche's already intercepting you, handing a cup of coffee to that very customer.
"Took you long enough," was all he says, wrinkling his nose at you.
"You sure you don't want us to stay, boss?" Mikasa asks, already dressed in her casual clothing.
"Yup! All good here. I just need to do some extra auditing on stuff," you assure them with a smile, "Be safe, okay? Message the groupchat once you guys get home."
Mikasa and Connie acknowledge your words with a hum, waving their arms at you, the door jingling as they leave.
You wait until they've reached the bus stop, watching from the big window of your store as they got on and the bus speeds away. An overly-excited grin creeps onto your face, already fishing out your phone from your pocket.
Before you get to even message that number on your phone, three loud taps on the glass window makes you jump. Your heart practically escaping your ribs.
Hange's face stretches into one of embarrassment. Their chestnut eyes crinkling upwards with a slight laugh you didn't really hear. Your hand was placed right over your chest, breathing heavily from the sheer surprise.
You walk to the front door, push your head out, and call them, "Did you have to do that?"
This time you hear their laugh. Light, sweet, and gentle. Way more addicting than you'd expect. Hange jogs up to the front of the cafe, holding the door with a hand as you stand up straight.
Their hair was way more disheveled than usual, freckles in full display as you flick on the lights to your cafe. Gone was the plain white doctor's coat as they now wore a khaki-colored trench coat over their red and white pinstripe button-up.
"You look..."
Cute? Adorable? Kissable?
"...nice. Really nice! I, uh, I don't really have any clothes to change into in the cafe right now." You look away out of embarrassment, resorting to walking over to your seat and slinging your bag on your shoulder.
Hange's cheeks heat up with color at your compliment, though thankfully you were too busy worrying about your own coyness.
"It's fine! You look really nice today anyway... I mean—you always do. You just, well, ha... look really nice today—tonight," they practically trip all over their words, choosing to end that little statement with a carefree laugh to maybe lessen the tension.
You laugh with them, finally having the guts to look straight at them. The two of you descend into a rather awkward silence, standing still in the empty cafe for god knows how long. Too shy and too anxious to make any moves.
Fortunately, that awkward silence is finally broken when your phone sounds with a notification. The coffee groupchat's name popping up with two separate messages.
"Sorry, it's Mikasa and Connie. They probably just got home right now," you say, wrinkling your nose habitually.
"Oh, that's great!" Hange responds, "Do you wanna, y'know, go right now? Or if you still have stuff to do—I can wait for you, no biggie."
"Yes—No, I mean, it's fine, I'm done already! Double-checked the stuff out back as well," you affirm with a smile, shaking your head lightly.
Their lips stretch wider, "Great!"
For the next thirty minutes, the two of you walk by the streets of Shiganshina with nothing but a few lousy questions and a dream.
You've asked them about what they do, when they started, where they came from—all the basic facts you already did know but just wanted to hear it come from them personally.
Hange was definitely no different. They asked you about your coffee shop, how you started, what your favorite coffee was, if you bake or cook the food and pastries; you honestly began to think they were asking so they could apply as a part-timer.
When you brought it up, Hange was cackling.
"Believe me, I have nothing against working at a cafe. I actually think you guys are the absolute best," they say, taking bigger steps to overtake you and change sides as you cross the road, "It's just funny. I don't think I'd be a good coffee maker. I might blow up the shop."
"Speaking of blowing things up, have you blown up anything?" You suddenly ask, crossing your arms over your chest.
They hum teasingly, looking to the sky, holding their chin as if they were searching the depths of their memories.
"Zero. The only times I've ever caused a boom was because it was necessary," Hange finally answers after a minute of thinking. Giving you that fake look of arrogance that you notice they like doing.
You raise an eyebrow, "Really?"
They nod assuringly, yet that good-for-nothing grin tells you otherwise.
"I'm no scientist, doc, but I'm sure a boom is almost never necessary for something." You jerk your eyebrows at them, letting the side of your lip extend as Hange finally drops the look. Both of you laughing loudly once more.
Once the laughter died down, you and Hange walking in a comfortable silence now, you couldn't help but feel warm beside them.
Who would've thought you'd be spending the last work day of the week going to your used-to-be-ex-crush's workplace? Let alone be able to tease and hold a conversation with them without turning into a tomato.
Well, who are you kidding? You wrote your number as their little note, dummy.
Get yourself together. They have a girlfriend, remember?
The two of you soon arrive at Hange's building. They flash a smile at the security guard, grabbing the visitor lanyard he was holding and placing it on your neck.
"I work on the twelfth whenever I'm not in the university," Hange shares.
"Do your friends work there as well?"
"Nah, not really. Erwin's in International Relations while Levi's in Mathematics. My friends in the lab usually stay in... y'know, the lab." Hange rocks back and forth on their heels, pursing their lips until their cheeks puffed out.
You nod, "How's university then? I hope it isn't as stressful as mine."
"You're still in uni?" Hange turns to you, pressing the elevator buttons.
"Mhm. I couldn't take all the required units at the same time because I had to look after the shop... with my progress, I think it'll take me two more years to finish," you ramble, watching as the floor numbers slowly increased. "But don't worry, I'm not underaged or anything. We're the same age! I swear!"
"I'm not doubting you on that," Hange chuckles.
Your eyebrow arches once again, an idea popping in your mind, "So you're saying I look old?"
Surprise colors their face again, immediately raising their hands as if in surrender. Their eyes wrinkle with slight embarrassment, stammering as they try to explain themselves. You on the other hand simply continue the act, glaring at them playfully.
The elevator door opens after some time. A clinical-looking room appearing into view. The walls were lined with glass cabinets containing laboratory paraphernalia and some disorganized rows of worn-out books. Counters and tables were littered with either different notebooks and loose-leaf papers or trays that had test tubes holding funky-colored liquid. The largest piece in the room was a wheeled-whiteboard that had all kinds of calculations and marks.
Before you can look at it longer, Hange thrusts themselves in front of you, blocking your view with their tall stature. "Shit—I, uh, forgot to clean up... kinda," they chuckle dryly, scratching the back of their head.
"Do you wanna head back down? I can show you the specialty rooms! Or maybe the dry labs? I heard we just got in some new high-powered computers from the government. That's a lot of—"
"You have this whole place to yourself?" You push past them gently, darting your head to the side as you looked around even more.
"Well not really. I share it with three others but they usually get off early. Sometimes interns do their experiments here but most times they stay at the experiments hall and meeting rooms downstairs." They take a step back, blocking your view again with a sheepish look, "So, uh, yeah, I usually do have it to myself. Anyway! Downstairs?"
You look at them, finding the shy look on their features way too persuasive. So with a sigh, you nod, heading back inside the elevator as Hange loudly exclaims ha-ha!
That little research facility tour lasted you both two hours of more walking before you decided it was time to head home. Instead of letting you go home via taxi, Hange offered to walk you home—or as near to home as you'd let them.
You had no problem with that, you loved to walk. In fact, you'd happily walk the entire city if Hange'd accompany you.
Alas, all good things have to come to an end.
Your fairytale does in some random ice cream parlor down the street from your apartment building.
Hange was across from you, eating their abomination of an ice cream as they specifically ordered two scoops of mint chocolate chip with all of the toppings available.
"Still can't believe you like mint chocolate chip," you mumble out. Having grown comfortable with teasing them now.
"I can't believe you chose coffee crumble. Aren't you tired of coffee yet?" Hange seems to be the same with their response.
The two of you laugh at each other, mumbling touché like some high school kid at their after school hangout. Only difference is right now you two were the only ones inside of this ice cream parlor.
You, Hange, and a middle-aged man who looked too tired to worry about the blue-white striped hat slipping from their head.
This is nice. Your mind soothes the fluttering mess inside of your stomach, This must be a normal occurrence for their girlfriend. Late night ice cream runs.
And there it is again.
They have a girlfriend.
That singular piece of information prompts you to stand up from your seat. Nervously dusting off your sleeves as you grab your bag.
"Are you okay? Something wrong?" Hange quickly asks.
"Oh, ah, well it's way past..." you look at your wristwatch, trying to think of a quick excuse, "...the time I should've been at home."
Their eyebrows crease in confusion. Nevertheless, they stand up as well, wiping their hands over their thighs, wiping their mouth with a nearby tissue. "Yeah, yeah, sure—just give me a sec."
Standing underneath the dingy signage of the ice cream parlor, streets empty and windy, Hange stays there with you in the same exact awkward silence as when you two had first met.
"I really enjoyed today," you break the bubble, giving them a timid smile.
"Me too," Hange agrees, following you as you walk down the street where the only lights remaining were that of the street. Shops all closed off now. "Not everyday someone actually wants to tour the empty facility with a crazy scientist."
You can't help the laughter that bursts out of you, "You're calling yourself a crazy scientist now. That mint chocolate chip really is bad for you."
Their eyes soften at the sound, lips parting in a way that almost scares you. They offer no argument however.
"I mean it," they began, "I really did enjoy tonight."
Your heart jumps. Having to physically restrain yourself from squealing too loudly.
"I... ah," a shaky breath was all you could return.
"Thank you, Hange," you take a daring step towards them, throwing all your sanity out of the window.
Hands place themselves on their shoulders, willing them to lose a few inches of height just to be as your level, and after that, you feel just how soft and textured the skin on their cheek was.
Your body pulls away quickly, Hange's brown eyes illuminated by the faint glow of the warm streetlight overhead. Their eyes were round with surprise... and intrigue? Your lips part the same time theirs do, the stupidity of what you had just did—kissing a person in a relationship—only dawning to you right then.
Before you even manage to utter the disgusting words that is your apology, a hand had already snaked itself around your waist. Your body is pulled forward with a force that knocks the air straight out of your lungs, their face coming in so closely and so suddenly that you lose all rational sense.
As if there even was some left after you'd kissed their cheek.
Plush, broad lips press onto yours, perfectly molding between them as if they were made for your mouth. A warm and gentle muscle slips out and slides across your bottom lip, you all but gasp as the hand around you squeezes the nearest bunch of fabric, holding with it the muscle at your waist.
Your hands come up to hook at the back of Hange's neck. Eyes closed, inhibitions thrown out into the road. You were taking every last bit they were willing to give you, enjoying every second they were spending exploring your own mouth.
The way their tongue tangled with yours was intoxicating. Your senses zero in on the lingering taste of caramel on their tongue, hindering you from noticing just how tightly they're holding onto your body now. Pressed flushed onto them, big hands clutching you close as if you'd disappear.
Hange kissed in a way you never imagined. That says a lot considering how much you'd used them as your material whenever you had to take a train down to orgasmville.
You'd always imagine them as inexperienced; someone that would pull away in less than ten seconds with a random laugh, or a toothy grin, mumbling an apology for being bad at kissing—which they're definitely not. The first kiss you imagined having with them was in a random theatre, like how most awkward first kisses go. They'd bloom red in embarrassment, a stuttering mess under your gaze.
You never imagined them like this—hungry, aggressive, and... well, hot.
A sharp hiss leaves their lips as your fingers pull at the hair close to the back of their neck. The intensity of their kiss coming back tenfold as they smash their lips onto yours harder, sucking on your tongue as if it's their lifeline.
The skin under your clothing was getting more and more warm. You could feel the fabric of your panties slowly getting wetter, your core clenching uncontrollably. It took everything in you not to grind on them right then and there.
The kiss seemed to go on endlessly. The air from your lungs slowly disappearing the longer this continued; You didn't want it to end, scared thinking about what'd happen once you—or they—pull away.
Are they going to be shocked and yell at you to never see them again? Are they going to scream that they have a girlfriend? Are they going to just turn around and walk away like it's nothing?
You don't get to overthink much because a loud honk interrupts you both. The blur of a yellow cab with its blinding headlights dash by as you two jump away abruptly, your chest heaving up and down. Even as it had drove off, you couldn't look at Hange right away.
Both of your heavy breaths lingered in the air, loud in such a quiet street that you couldn't help but feel funny and somewhat excited. The adrenaline of just finishing a sudden make out with someone you should definitely not be making out with rushed through your veins like caffeine.
It didn't help that this literally happened at some street close to your apartment building. You two could've been seen by—literally anyone!
"That was, uh," Hange's voice sounded heavily then. Croaky and groggy, deeper than it definitely is.
You turn your head to them, feeling a tickle inside you as you see just how swollen and messy their lips are; your gloss was swiped all over them, red lipstick ghosting their skin.
"You kind of have a—uh, mess," Hange points out. Their hand darts out and holds your chin, thumb poking out and wiping the side of your lips. You figure it's your smudged lipstick. "Sorry about that." A toothy smile lights their face, the one you imagined.
"It's... wow," you laugh dryly, truly at a loss for words.
The awkwardness seeps in and you two can't do anything then but laugh at each other. Embarrassment evident in the way you two tried to steal looks at each other all the while trying to act chill about the entire situation.
"Is your apartment here? I forgot—got kinda sidetracked there. I should bring you to your building, it'd be foolish of me to just leave you here—but, uh, if you don't want me to—that's fine as well. I can go now if you want me to." They shove their hands in their pocket, rocking on the heels of their feet.
You smile, sucking in your cheek like a little schoolgirl. "I can head home myself now, doc. Can you?"
"Can—Can I?" They echo your words with heavy disbelief before scoffing lightheartedly. "Yeah, of course, I can."
"Great."
"Great."
You're definitely fucked.
hearts, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! if you liked what you read, you could consider buying me a coffee :) xoxo
summary: every night, clark feels bits of his sanity chip away as he has to involuntarily listen to your moans and whimpers despite being miles away from you. he doubts he can control himself any longer especially with a familiar red stone hanging around his neck.
pairing: red k!clark kent x fem!reader
warnings: 18+ / smut with no plot / oral (f) / dubious consent / use of vibrators / unprotected sex (no male cum) / voyeurism (i think) / overstimulation / inappropriate use of superhuman hearing / size kink / clark competes with a vibrator / competitive clark / mutual masturbation / big dick clark fr / mentions of using somebody’s moans to get off
Clark Kent is the best college roommate you could ever ask for.
He cleaned, he cooked, he has cool parents that always sends him freshly baked goods—and above all, he's always down to get you your art supplies whenever you run out of them in the middle of the night.
Though, you always wondered how he manages to get to the edge of the city then back to the dorm in less than ten minutes. Whenever you did that, it took you at least an hour. You didn't question him about it though, you figured there so much more things to worry about than your roommate being Sonic the Hedgehog's cousin.
Clark could say the same for you.
Never asks questions, keeps your hands to your own things, washes the dishes when it piles up, always offers your help whenever he and his journalist friends needs it—it's a breeze living with you.
Well, almost.
Whenever the clock hits twelve and you bring out your friend from underneath your bed, it's the only time Clark wishes he can fully block out his superhearing; give you your privacy and let him fall asleep without having to hear of your hushed breaths and restricted moaning.
Why not leave? Clark could easily super-speed out of the dorm room then come back after you're done.
He did that before already. Running off to the farm in Smallville to sleep in his own room, barely alerting you that he did. It worked for the first few minutes. He was able to get some quiet, got to close his eyes, relax—everything.
However, just as he was about to fall into sleepland, your voice invades his head again. The intensity of your voice seemingly felt like he's doing it intentionally; zeroing on your voice despite the distance he willingly put between the two of you.
With his cock hardening every second he heard your voice desperately calling for him, he couldn't help but be forced to relieve some of the pressure using your moans, no matter how against the idea he was.
The next night he left the dorm, he tried going as far as the Fortress of Solitude. Sitting just outside of the grand palace, head in his hands, eyes closed thinking he finally escaped the threshold of your sounds.
Unfortunately, that breathy voice of yours saying Keep going, Clark, you're fucking me so well proved him wrong.
Clark strolls back inside of the dorm, bag slung over his shoulders after he had just finished his last class for the day. You immediately appear into his view, nose deep into your drafting table, sparing him a quick glance.
Clark sighs. His shoulder slumping down as he takes a seat on his desk, rubbing his face in his hands. "Not really. I was caught up on some midterm review last night."
"Midterm review?" You furrow your eyebrows, "Oh! Is that why you weren't here last night?"
"L-last night? I was here." Clark clears his throat.
You scoff, raising an eyebrow as you throw him a look over your shoulder. "Dude, I woke up at like three in the morning and your bed was empty. Hours later you're back on your bed snoring."
He raises an eyebrow at you.
"Don't worry, Clark. You don't have to tell me if you're sneaking out," you say teasingly, only to laugh loudly when you see Clark roll his eyes at you.
Only if you knew what he was doing out of the dorm.
The both of you began working in silence, occasionally bringing up some mundane things to talk about like what the two of you are having for dinner, or if either of you are going to a party you got invited to.
"Why ask me, aren't you and that dude in finance going out?" Clark asks, stretching his arms up while dropping his pen on his notebook.
You grimace, shaking your head. "He spilled coffee on a plate I was supposed to submit."
"That's gotta leave a mark," Clark hoots, throwing you over a look before laughing. Very much entertained at the way you glared at him to shut up. "What'd you do about it?"
"What else was I supposed to do? I left his sorry ass in the cafe, Jesus." You huff irritatedly, scratching the side of your head with the tip of your pencil. "Every man's either stupid or reckless, usually it's both."
"No argument from me there," he responds, reminding you once more why you enjoyed having him as a roommate.
After another round of silence, his phone rings in an awfully loud ballad ringtone.
Whenever that ringtone sounds, you know it's that blonde named Chloe. While in other cases where it's a White Snake ringtone, it's definitely Chloe's cousin Lois. You, on the other hand, picked out the Mario Kart theme song as your designated ringtone after finding out about Clark's little habit of assigning a specific ringtone to a person.
"It's Chloe, she needs me at the Planet." Clark says with a nod, closing his notebooks shut and grabbing his jacket. Before he leaves, Clark calls for you. "Oh—and I might spend the night back at the farm. I need to help my dad out with something so… I'll just bring you some muffins."
When he sees you raise a thumbs up, Clark nods, locking the door shut as he left.
Fuck, Clark, keep going.
Don't stop.
Mhm, just like that!
Your voice rang in his ears. Constant cries of his name falling from your lips like an endless prayer.
Clark's jaw ticks, resisting the urge to let the growl in his throat free as the bartender over the counter looks at him with concern. "You okay, Kal?" The red rings in Clark's pupils flicker dangerously. The Kryptonian downing the shot in one straight swig, barely even affected by the lousy human alcohol.
"Never better," Clark says, jerking his head for another shot.
Yesyesyes—Shit, Clark—
The marble counter cracks under Clark's hold. His eyebrows knitted in concentration as he tried to block out your sounds. As beautiful and dirty they were, this wasn't the time nor the place he should be hearing them.
He swears, one more whimper of his name and he'll—
O-oh! I'm almost there, please…
"Keep it," Clark slams a hundred dollar bill he stole from someone in the club, the bartender looking at him confusedly. Before he gets to ask him, Clark had already dashed away.
When he arrives, his mouth falls open in utter surprise.
You laid there naked, legs spread, your cunt out in display for anyone to see. The pink toy in your hand pressed firmly on the quivering mess in between your thighs. Your cheeks were dusted with color, eyes closed shut, lips wide and spilling all sorts of moans and pleas.
One hand was on the pink toy, the other was busy fondling your breasts. Rolling your firm nipple in between your fingers as the coil in your stomach tightened by the second.
"Oh—mmhm—fuck! Almost there, almost there… godgodgo—" A silent scream breaks through you, your hips stuttering a few times before you ultimately shake on the mattress. Legs clamping around the pink toy as spots of white appeared in your vision.
Clark's name leaves your throat, smothered by the pillow you grabbed beside you.
Then, you hear a voice from the corner: "Aww, c'mon now, angel, don't cover your mouth."
You stiffen, body shooting up in alert. Your eyes drifting to the figure at the corner of the room; his legs were spread apart, big hand holding his even bigger cock as he shamelessly runs it up and down the length. Deep groans emitting from his every movement.
It's Clark, your roommate.
He's jerking himself off in the corner of your damn dorm room.
"What? Don't stop on my accord, angel. Keep going," he shrugs indifferently. Lips pulling into a smile that urges you to continue. "Oh c'mon… do you want me to beg for it, angel? Beg for you to continue pleasuring that little cunt of yours until that gadget finally makes you come?"
Your cheeks heat up with the vulgarity of his words. Clark doesn't even use curse words on a normal day, hearing these stuff come out of him now is bizarre.
"I… I don't know what you're talking about, Clark."
Clark chuckles at you, deep and pointed, letting go of his cock and standing up to start walking towards you. Your legs close out of instinct, nuzzling them both to your chest as Clark sits a feet away from you, right by your feet.
He catches your lust-blown eyes in his, only to glance down on your lips, running his thumb across your bottom lip.
"Angel, let's not fool ourselves here. I know you've been fucking yourself every night thinking of me. Picturing my mouth…" he runs a finger on your exposed knee, "…my fingers…" he flicks his attention back up, noticing the way your breathing slowly clipped and your eyes glued on his member. "…and of course, my cock."
You shake your head at the last bit, trying to get some sense back into your brain. Telling yourself over and over again that this has got to be some sort of nightmare—or dream, actually.
"You think that little toy of yours is enough to satisfy your needs—but no, it's isn't, angel." Clark nears his face to yours, the manly scent of his aftershave invading your senses. "Not even close."
He pulls away with a smirk, enjoying the way your legs clenched together with just his mere words.
"C-Clark…" you breathe out, trying your best to sound composed. But it's hard, especially when your roommate—the very one you've been fantasizing about—is sitting in front you with his hard cock in display. "We shouldn't do this."
The man in front of you scoffs, an air of smugness surrounding him. "Why not?" He asks you softly, "You didn't seem to have a problem crying out my name a second ago."
You open your mouth to respond but he beats you to it.
"I'm betting you anything in the world that if I pry these legs of your apart," he places a hand on your knee, "Your pussy would be dripping wet."
You don't respond anymore—you don't think you can. Your head is spinning with everything that's happening. You just wanted to get your release for the night, not get tangled up with Clark-on-viagra.
But you can't say that it didn't intrigue you.
This version of Clark—the way his voice went deeper than it usually did, the blazing hot presence he carried himself with—you can't say that it didn't make the mess between your legs ache even harder.
The way he watched you like a predator watching his prey, waiting for the right moment to pounce on you—it was fucking hot.
"So what do you say, angel? Are you gonna let me show you how much better I am than that lousy gadget of yours, or are you gonna stick with that?"
Your response? A wordless one as you spread your knees apart, letting him see every inch of you from your glistening cunt to your stiff peaks. Clark's eyes glow red, his sharp canines coming into view as he zeroes in on your puffy clit, begging to be tended to.
"Good choice, angel," he grins, kicking off the rest of his pants before lying down in front of you.
Clark's head is face-to-face with your pussy. His arms wraps around on both of your thighs in a secure grip before he dives in.
His tongue finds your clit with practiced ease, swirling the wet muscled around it, alternating between sucking and licking before you start to feel the tip of his fingers prod at your hole.
"Oh my god," you gasp, the quick rising of your orgasm has you gripping the sheets in ecstasy. "Keep doing that… keep—keep your mouth on that clit, Clark." You feel him chuckle against your pussy, finding the way you're instructing him adorable.
It's not Clark's first encounter with pussy. And it's definitely not Kal-El's too.
He looks at you, making sure you keep your eyes on him before he thrusts one finger inside of you. He barely lets you adjust on his thick finger as he goes right into fucking it in and out of you while he sucked on your clit.
Your legs shake uncontrollably around his face, trying desperately to clamp around his head but his arms are stopping you. The muscles of his biceps flexing harshly.
Clark puts in another finger, testing your hole with his thick fingers as he keeps his eyes locked onto the delicious upturn of your eyebrows. The walls of your shared dormitory now filled with your shameless moans.
"Right there!" You gasp, darting out to grab his wrist as you began meeting his thrusts with your hips. "So… sosososo—fucking good, Clark."
"Yeah? How good?"
"Incredible," you breathe.
The knot in your core tightens, your walls clamps down on his fingers greedily.
"Better than your toy?" He arches an eyebrow.
You don't answer, your mind currently running in circles as you focus on the overwhelming sensation in your pussy.
Clark's eyes narrow, teeth coming in contact with your clit as you writhe. "Asked you a question."
"Better! It's… ohh fuck…" your mouth falls open, feeling the finish line near.
Clark grins, looking at you with satisfaction. "It's about to get better." he flicks his tongue in continuous strokes, making up for the bite before he starts thrusting his fingers into you. Making sure your wetness trails down the fluffy covers of your bed for tomorrow's reminiscing. "Come all over my hand, angel. I want you to make a mess of yourself."
You do as he says, your legs giving out as you feel a rush of pleasure shoot through your core. Your eyes squeezing shut as a broken cry of his name falls from your lips.
Not even a second later, you already feel Clark cleaning you up with his tongue. Greedily licking up every bit of come that oozes out of your hole, caring about nothing else aside from making sure he gets every drop. No matter how hard you pull at his hair, pushing him away from further overstimulating you, it practically does nothing as Clark's strength overpowers you.
Next thing you know, you're convulsing around his tongue again, this time, faster than you ever did on your vibrator.
Your voice is hoarse by the time Clark pulls away from you. Your thighs tensing involuntarily as he finally lets go of his superhuman hold on them. The lower half of his face is drenched in your release, glistening again the smooth skin of his chin.
He moves up to you, hungrily taking you in a lust-filled kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue—sweet, mildly salty, and very messy.
"Not done yet, angel. Fun's just started," he grins, running his tongue over his sharp canines.
God if that didn't make you ache even more.
You let him pull you closer to him, the weight of his cock resting idly on your pussy. The sheer length of his cock making you squirm in place. Clark only chuckles, giving you a few slaps to side of your thighs.
"Don't worry, angel," you start to feel his tip run up and down your slit. Clark's forehead creasing as he dips back down to angle his hips so that your wetness coats the outside of his cock.
You gulp. The air gets knocked out of your chest the moment you feel the first two inches inside of you.
"You can, angel. Just a little more, c'mon. You can take dear ole roommate inside that greedy cunt," Clark grunts, nose scrunching up as he looks at you with nothing but lust.
He pushes in further, and when you've thought his fully inside you, he's still pushing in.
"God, Clark, how fucking big are you?" You can't help but let it out, too overwhelmed by the stretch in your cunt to even care about your words.
Clark smirks, "Big enough for you to take, angel."
You finally feel him bottom out, and it's like your heart shoved up your throat.
"How's it feel, angel?"
Your walls flutter around his cock as a response. A deep growl ripping through Clark's throat the moment you do.
"I'm takin' that as a yes to move, angel. Now, if you wanna be naughty and muffle your moans," he drops his eyes to your swollen lips, "Feel free to bite me."
He begins moving at a brutal pace. Pounding in and out of you with much force that your bed frame's hitting the wall in loud clashes. Clark sucks on his teeth as he goes delirious over your tightness, losing the grip he has on himself the longer that he keeps fucking into you.
"Clark! That… nhhngg—feels so fuckin' good, givin' it to me so—so fucking good baby," you ramble, saying the only words that you know at the moment.
The red rings in Clark's eyes pulses, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head in pleasure. Losing yourself to the pleasure as sobs of his name fill the small space. He feels more energy surge through his body, fucking his thick cock into you with much more vigor until you feel his balls slap onto your ass with every thrust.
Your core tightens, the knot in your stomach coming way earlier than you want it—you can't stop it, the way Clark's fucking into you in an inhumane pace has you nothing but puddle in his arm.
"O—Oh, Clark! I'm coming!" you sob out, locking your arms around his neck as you feel a sort of chain on it.
Clark's hands moves from the mattress to the side of your neck, using you as leverage to thrust even deeper, groaning deeply each time. "Go on, angel, come for me."
A wave of pleasure—way more intense than before—ripples through you. Your legs shooting up to wrap around Clark's waist as his pace never faltered, continuing the ruthless way his hips crash into yours with abandon
Mindlessly, you tug on the chain around his neck. The pendant on it slipping from the opening of his shirt. Your eyes caught on the red stone pendant, the mere stone glowing just subtly.
Clark looks down, his pupils flaring red the moment he sees the pendant. He turns back to you, watching in satisfaction as you squeeze around his cock like a greedy bitch in heat.
You shake from under him, back arching up into his clothed chest as you release one more time. Clark bites his lips, pulling out of you haphazardly only to feel a gush of your wetness spray onto his cock.
The two of you look down at the same time, seeing the part where you two had connected be drenched with liquid—both yours and his.
Something drops onto your chest, just right above the center of your breasts. When shift your head just subtly, you see a familiar pendant on your bare skin.
"Oh my god…" a shaky voice comes from above you.
There you see Clark, again, only this time he doesn't have that dark and lustful look in his eyes—no, this time, he actually looks shocked.
You shake your head, thinking maybe it's just the orgasm doing tricks on you. But then Clark speaks—
This time, a little less deep and more Clark Kent: "Oh no."
hearts, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! xoxo
summary: yeah… trying to get an exclusive interview from his girlfriend? doesn’t really end well when both of you have been kept apart for so long (or short, either way, you two can never get enough).
pairing: clark kent x student body president!reader
warnings: mature / ass grabbing (f) / clark and the reader are Horny ppl (they match each other’s freaks) / rough make out / gets caught (kinda) / lap straddling goodness / grumpy and sassy clark / misuse of torch office / legally aged students !!!!! / boners
a/n: will probably be continuing this clark kent x student body president/officer dynamic until my death bed (/hj). feel free to send asks btw!
divider from @uzmacchiato !
"Clark!" You hiss, taking multiple steps back until the back of your thighs hit the edge of the table.
Clark makes a sound somewhat similar to that of a growl. He keeps his hands on either side of your body, keeping you from tripping on your feet. He ignores your hiss, continuing his attacks from your jaw to the column of your neck to your collarbones.
The soft breaths that leave your mouth every time he sucks on that sweet spot is like music to his ears, urging him to do even more—hands massaging your sides with a delicateness that contradicts how big and manly they were. Your eyes roll back when you feel his teeth graze over that spot again, lips falling open as Clark hoists you up on the desk.
He spreads your thighs with a single jerk of his knee, slotting himself between your legs. He pulls away briefly, letting a smile come on his face before he begins peppering the edges of your mouth with chaste kisses again. Placing one on every side except your actual lips.
"We shouldn't—" Clark's lips dart up to yours, swallowing your weightless protests as he explores your mouth hungrily. Your arms rest on the back of his neck, hands pulling at the roots of his hair making him groan.
You open your eyes to glare at him, eyebrows knitting in a stern manner. "Clark."
He looks at you lazily, "Mhm, I'm busy."
Clark doesn't give you much choice as raises one hand to tilt your chin up, locking his lips with yours. He wasted no time swiping his tongue on your bottom lip, slipping the wet muscle inside once more as he registers that familiar sugary taste, pretty much telling him what you did right before you came to the Torch office.
You lose yourself on him, the logical side of your brain being put on hold as you leave yourself defenseless in his hands. Letting him explore each and every inch of your mouth like it was something he needed to do.
And in some way, some twisted way in Clark's mind, he really needed to.
Hours of being stuck to the sidelines because of the extra tasks you pick up from those wretched and useless council members that can't seem to do their job has him almost going insane. One more second of not having you in his arms might do the trick though, that's why he's not even thinking of doing that right now.
Nope, not even close.
"Clark," you gasp, finally managing to pull him off of you. Your chest heaved, trying to catch your breath while Clark stares at you impatiently, lips swollen and cheeks flushed light crimson. "My exclusive, remember? Chloe's gonna kill you if you don't get her data."
"Chloe's busy with her Daily Planet column, baby. I'm sure she can wait until we're done," Clark responds, jerking his eyebrows.
You narrow your eyes at him, Clark, however, smiles at you. One he usually does when he wants something from you, or when he did something he probably shouldn't have—either way, you already know you're done for the moment you see that smile.
"Please?" Clark says, nudging at your waist. "It'll be quick."
You swallow down on nothing. The way Clark looks at you like he's hurting inside, voice aching with need, desperately wanting to be closer.
He urges you even more. "Chloe's not coming back for an hour, we have the whole office to ourselves. We can do the interview in five minutes tops."
"What's gotten you so needy?" You ask out lightheartedly, planting your arms on your hips.
Clark rolls his eyes, nuzzling his face on the side of your head, inhaling in your scent. "Can't I just miss my girlfriend?" When you don't respond, not even to his wet neck kisses, he sighs. "Okay, fine. You've been spending way too much time doing work that's not even your responsibility. We never have enough time to play around."
You're unable to stop the snort that leaves your lips at his terminology. Play around. The phrase itself is innocent, but when it comes from your boyfriend?
It's basically porn.
He pulls away from you, glaring at you with seriously? written all over his features. His sudden grumpiness overpowering that bright and approachable presence he always has.
"You are such a big baby," you finally give up, pulling him close. Letting your arms wrap around his broad shoulders as you give him a kiss on his pouty lips. A victorious smile quickly stretching across his face.
However, before the two of you can escalate things further, a loud rattling sound comes from the door.
Clark inhales, frustratedly pulling away in record time as he looks at anywhere but you. All the while you hastily hopped off the desk and sat on one of the swivel chairs, crossing your legs in a formal manner while also fixing your hair.
"Sorry! I forgot my pens," Chloe says apologetically. "How's the interview going, by the way?" She says as she rushes over to her table, rummaging through the cabinets.
You give her the best smile you can give, ignoring the way Clark rolled his eye, walking behind her. "It's going really well."
"Perfectly well," Clark supports, voice awfully monotonous.
She finally finds the pen case she's been looking for, happily holding it up for you and Clark to see. "Found it."
Clark smiles sarcastically. Chloe's eyebrows furrows as she looks at him confusedly.
When Chloe turns her back to face Clark, you glare at the man, nostrils flaring.
"I'll leave you two to it," Chloe announces, "Make sure you finish all the questions, okay Clark? And don't forget to record it. Send the file to me afterwards, okay?" She lists them out with a firm tone, shoving the case in her beaded sling bag.
Clark nods, holding the door open for her. "Yeah, yeah, I know."
Chloe leaves the room with a loud thanks! directed to you. Clark closing the door shut before clicking the lock, letting out an exasperated sigh as he walks over to you.
"Chloe has the best timings, did you know that?" You throw the question at Clark, who gives you the same sarcastic glare he gave to Chloe.
Clark slumps down on the desk you previously sat on not before snatching the small recorder and piece of paper on Chloe's table. He grunts, pressing a button on the device, eyes going over the questions.
You watched him with amusement, slowly inching your chair closer to him.
"What can you say about the recent incidents about students criticizing the alleged theme for the Winter Formal? Why is the council letting the students get away with disrespecting and insulting the efforts of their fellow students?" Clark pulls his lips into a straight line, his cheeks puffing out as he looks at you expectantly.
You answer instantly, "For the first question, I have nothing to say. I believe the keyword there is alleged, it's only the alleged theme and not the actual one. However, we'll take note not to ever use that theme. Ever."
"And secondly, I assure you that the council is not letting student get away with their improper behavior. Proper documentations are being done, and cases are being made to properly deal with these students that continue to insult and disrespect the efforts of others."
The questions barely took any effort to answer. Clark found that very hot. Even more so because of the confident look you had on your face, something you always do when you go into your upright-student-body-president-mode.
You stood up from your seat, taking one step to your boyfriend before you moved your face close to his. Your hand discreetly going over the recording device to press the stop button.
Your lips ghost his jaw, moving across the smooth skin of his face as you began nipping on his spots.
Clark's deep breaths slowly turned into low and guttural groans, your hand resting itself on his firm chest as it slowly moved downwards.
You suck on the skin of his neck, putting some light pressure with your teeth before licking the spot. Staring up at him through your lashes as your hand finally reaches just below his belly button.
Clark grabs your wrist with his hand, glaring at you with dark eyes before he pulls you to him with no effort. Adjusting himself on the desk so he can have you straddling his lap, waist at the perfect height for him to rest his hands on.
The two of you wasted no time. As soon as you got comfortable on his lap, arms on the back of his neck, both of your lips connected in a heat-searing kiss. Your bodies pressed together like they'd be separated in a moment.
You feel heat burn in your chest as Clark swiped his tongue on your lips, parting them ever so slightly before he thrusted his tongue into your mouth. Exploring it with a new found fervor, even more hungrier than before.
His hands move down your waist to your ass, giving both cheeks a tender squeeze as he pushes you towards him, as if the two of you aren't already pressed into each other's bodies. You feel a low moan slip from your mouth, Clark responding to it with a groan of his own.
Time seemed to be irrelevant to the moment as both of you completely lost yourselves. The recorder long forgotten, the paper filled with questions now thrown somewhere in the office.
What matters right then was the two of you. Only the two of you.
When you thought it'd continue just like that, it doesn't. Not when the door's rattling again. This time even harsher than before.
You pull away from Clark, slowly peeling your eyes open as you met his, just as blown-out. The outer part of his lips now shining with the remnants of your lip gloss.
"I'm getting the truck," Clark says, jaw clenched, one arm wrapped around your waist to gently let you down from the desk.
"I'll wait for you at the gate." You breathe out, smiling as you wipe his mouth with the handkerchief you had on your back pocket. Something primal flicking across his eyes that had him sucking his teeth.
You compose yourself, grabbing the recorder and piece of paper on the ground and shoving them inside your bag. You watch as Clark walks to the door in strained steps, slowly noticing the way his jeans tightened around his pelvis. He fixes his plaid longsleeve, making sure it goes past said area.
When he opens the door, Pete appears.
"Hey, Chloe asked me to get her recorder—why's the door locked?"
You and Clark share a look, one that says a lot.
He clears his throat, turning to Pete with a smile so casual no one would have guessed what was happening just seconds before.
"Chloe probably locked it on her way out."
hearts, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! xoxo
summary: living alone in a small cabin far from the walls, you've been used to the life of quietness and independence. that is, until, a particular one-eyed commander stumbles into your cabin with their immobile captain.
pairing: afab!hange zoë x fem!reader
tags: 18+ MDNI / hange uses they/them pronouns / somewhat canon-compliant / age difference (hange is mid-30s, reader is at her early-20s) / cabin break-in / no use of y/n / mild angst / domestic hange and reader !!!!! / mutual pining / late night talks / ✂️✂️ / cunnilingus / titplay / hange talks you through it / inexperienced reader / slight overstim / wc: 13k
Living in the Forest of the Giant Trees was never something you wanted for yourself.
If you could only have it your way, you would've lived within Wall Rose, always going out in the morning to get freshly baked bread, fish and meat for food, and maybe even a few bundles of flowers for your home.
Unfortunately for you, the many unfortunate events that followed your family's demise has rendered you alone and unable to leave this simple home you've created for yourself.
A small cabin deep into the woods, one underneath a tree thickly-covered by leaves. There were two rooms in it, one for yourself, the other empty and untouched, supposedly for your family. Every other day, you go outside your home and search for food, anything edible really. You can't really afford to be picky in your situation.
Sometimes you're lucky, a hog would be somewhere near and easy to kill. That particular kill being enough to feed you for a single week. Most times, you're not so lucky. That means you would have to spend many hours at a nearby stream, waiting patiently for the fishes to bite.
When all things meat fail you, like during times where you've lost every single lucky bone in your body, you resort to eating the vegetables you grow beside your cabin. Potatoes, lettuce, a few garlics and onion. The berries scattered in the bushes nearby also make perfect snacks when you just need to pull through the grueling, boring hours of day.
Today, the only agenda you have was to change the bundle of flowers you have at your dining table. It's starting to wilt away, the dead color from the roses' petals were a clear indicator of that.
Gathering flowers is a million times easier than having to gather food. Hence, you only sling your medium-sized bag across your body, making sure to slip a covered knife at your waistband for safety. You call out your dog's name, Sina, a one-eyed hunting dog that had found itself dead-asleep on your front door.
Sina wags his tail as he emerges from your room, running in figure-eights between your legs. "I'll be out for a bit. Don't let anybody in, yeah?"
He barks in return, loud and groggy.
"I can't bring you with me, Sina. I need to be quick. It's gonna get dark soon. I won't be able to walk you around like usual," you explain to him. Bending down so you're at eye-level with your four-legged friend. "Tomorrow, okay?"
As a response, Sina lets out a sound somehow in between a whimper and a howl. You ruffle his textured brown coating, kissing his crown before walking out.
The winds were particularly harsh this afternoon. That paired with the greyish sky threatening a rainfall was a recipe for disaster in your book. Unfortunately, you can't push this agenda of yours to another day. You've spent two days not going out of the cabin. If you stay one more day in, you might start pulling the hair out of your scalp one by one.
Look for flowers, check for berries, then head home.
Should be easy enough.
"Sina, I'm home!"
You close the door behind you, slipping the lock over the hole. The living room feels awfully quiet... and messy.
The vase you kept in the center of your dining table was moved a tiny bit to the right. You noticed that from the subtle shadow left by the dust on the wood. Maybe it was just Sina, you know how he gets when he's alone.
Speaking of, that brings you to a weirder observation. Why isn't Sina running to you right now?
"Sina! Where are you? I'm home, boy," you call out again, voice resonating throughout the small cabin.
When no rustling collars or tapping paws enter your ears, you feel the color drain from your face in a second. Carefully, you walk to the small storage box you kept by the door, bending your knees and picking up the small stone knife you usually brought with you when you gathered supplies.
You never really imagined having to use it, certainly not when the entire city's still focused on establishing itself to the other countries aside from Paradis.
That was the last thing you remembered when you traveled close to the wall, listening around the marketplace for any news to take note of. If everything's going well, there shouldn't be anything to worry about.
You place your basket of flowers on a nearby chair, holding the knife at its hilt, sharp end pointed outwards. Carefully, you head towards the closed door of your bedroom. You stuck your ear to the surface, trying to check if somebody's there.
The knob sits cold in your palm. Your lip caught in between your teeth as you shut your eyes, taking in a deep breath to calm that beating inside your heart. You let out one trembling breath before turning the knob.
It doesn't quite reach its full turn as you're so suddenly pulled away from the door and slammed straight to the wall beside it. The wood cracks behind you, force so strong that it shook the walls of the cabin no doubt. Your eyes water immediately, the knife dropping from your palm and hitting the ground with a sharp sound.
The arm responsible for pulling you puts on even more pressure by your collarbone, putting enough to have you all the more breathless.
You couldn't see them quite well. Not in your state anyway.
"What—"
They pull you off the wall and slam you against it again, not as hard as before but definitely hard enough to get you gasping again for air.
"Shh..." They whisper, lowering their head so the hood of their cloak hid their face even more. "I... Is there anyone else living here?" A low, raspy voice enters your ear, the sound so gruff that you couldn't quite distinguish whether or not it was a man or a woman.
Regardless, they were strong.
You scramble underneath them, chest heaving, "N-nobody else."
Their head moves just slightly. A tiny tilt upwards, not much, only enough to make the movement clear. From there you could see some light seeping into the heavy hood on their head, although you see nothing but a sliver of their skin and a black surface.
"My dog—Sina, please, don't hurt him," you squeak out, lips pulling downwards to a frown, tears starting to arise as you remember your dog's absence. "You can have anything—take anything. Don't hurt me or my dog, please, I didn't do anything wrong."
They shush you again, though the sound comes out softer, more careful. The arm they had pinning you to the wall began trembling, loosening their hold just slightly.
Your eyebrows knit together, still you decide against breaking free violently and instead, you speak again, "Please, whatever you need. I'll help you," you speak, whispering softly, "I won't do anything stupid, I swear. I won't scream, I won't—"
"I'm sorry," they mumble.
"What?"
They exhale loudly, free hand reaching up and pulling off their hood to reveal—Commander Hange?
You're not quite sure if they really are this Commander Hange you think of. You have only heard of them from hearsay, their face still a blurry image in your mind as the only time you saw their face was feom the scratched and butchered sketches on the newspapers whenever you travel inwards.
The only distinguishing factor you remember about them was that they only had one good eye left, the other eye covered by an eyepatch; exactly the same as the one in front of you now.
"I... I'm Commander Hange Zoë of the Survey Corps. I didn't mean to trespass in your home but, well, I thought it was abandoned," they look away, their voice no longer as strong and vicious as before. Now it was fragile, careful. "I let the dog out just in case it had only strolled in for shelter. When I noticed fresh supplies, you had already come in before I was able to—"
You cough, "Uh-heh—Commander?"
"Yes?"
"Can you, uh, well, your—" you stop yourself to breathe, concentrating on regulating your own breathing, trying to ease the pressure building up on your throat as best as you can. "Your arm is—it hurts," finally you squeak out, weakly tapping the elbow of their arm.
Hange's eye widens slightly, pulling away so violently you'd think you stabbed them in the gut. "I'm sorry for that. I really shouldn't have treated you too roughly in your own home." They look down apologetically.
"My dog, Sina—where did you take Sina? You didn't kill him, right?" You grasp the base of your throat, finally able to catch your breath.
"I didn't," they confirm, "I opened the front door and made some noise. I wouldn't be able to bring in Levi if I hadn't let him out. I apologize,"
"Who?"
You catch Hange take in their bottom lip, front teeth nibbling the surface. The two of you lock eyes with each other before they walk towards you, grabbing the knob of your bedroom door and turning it.
There, stood—or more appropriately, laid—a medium-sized man bandaged at the side of his head, eyes closed, arms tucked underneath a dark-colored cloth. He was lying on a sheet of hay, probably cushioning his body against the wooden barrow.
He was kept right beside your own bed, the steady rise and fall of his chest indicating that he was still alive despite the numerous stitches and wounds on his body.
"Captain Levi of the Survey Corps," Hange says, voice filled with somber.
They didn't even look at the sleeping man. They had their arm extended to hold the door open but their head was turned sideways.
"What happened to him?" You ask.
"It's... well, a very long and complicated story," Hange answers. They look down, staring at you apologetically. "I would offer to look for your dog but I cannot leave Levi here alone. Even with you. It's too dangerous."
The very mention of Sina had your head jerking up. "I need to look for Sina. Now."
"Wait—it's dark outside, you need—" a loud banging interrupts Hange's words. Three loud bangs from the front door, as though someone was trying to barge in.
The only problem is... the door isn't even locked in the first place.
"Stay here," Hange enters your bedroom, coming out a few seconds after now with a gun in their hand.
They point the end directly to the door, carefully stepping forward as the entity on the other side continued on slamming against the door.
"Who's in there?" You call out, staying behind them.
What responds back is not a human voice, it was an animal bark.
You push past Hange in a hurry, shoving the door open with both arms until you finally see the four-legged light of your life in front of you.
"Sina!"
The day after Hange Zoë and Levi Ackermann of the Survey Corps had unexpectedly crashed your humble cabin, you realize you barely had any supplies left. At least barely enough to sustain three living people and one feisty animal.
You let them have your bedroom. Well, Levi at least. The cart-ridden man now had a pillow and an actual blanket to sleep on, courtesy of you.
Hange spent the hours alternating between the couch of your living room and the stiff chair at the corner of your room where they watched their comrade--which, speaking of, you haven't even spoken to yet.
Sure, you've already gotten quite comfortable with the commander. They weren't really all that guarded. Yes, they were careful with their words, but you find them surprisingly talkative despite the gloomy appearance they show to you.
"In you go, Sina, c'mon," you hold the door open for your fluffy friend, his tail wagging excitedly as Hange emerges from your—their bedroom.
They wore the same white button-shirt as they did before, sleeves rolled to their elbows, brown hair let down from its usual half-do. Their glasses were still perched on top of the bridge of their noses.
"Hey," they greet, walking over to you to grab the baskets from both your hands. "I hope the run wasn't too tiring for you. I'll arrange these, you should take a rest."
You stay in the middle of the living room, rubbing your hands together awkwardly. Living almost a decade alone has gotten you completely out of social skills, especially to a person you've never really met before.
Hange drops the baskets on the table. The sound prompting you to notice the filled vase, pops of color sprouting from it.
"You... arranged the flowers?"
"Oh, uh, yeah—" they barely a spare a glance at it as they proceed to unload the supplies from the basket. "I noticed you brought them in yesterday and they kinda got trampled... when I kind of, y'know." They do some awkward gesture of tapping the wall, one you easily understand. "I took the flowers that were still okay, picked out a few more when you left."
"Form of apology, I guess. Y'know, about yesterday again." They show you a shy smile, scratching the back of their head. Their eyes flicker down to the base of your neck, lingering there for a moment before looking away. "I'm sorry, again, about it."
"Know what—it's fine. Let's forget about it, okay?" You say, holding up both palms. "I didn't really like you for letting Sina go when it was getting dark out but at least he was safe."
Hange lets out a relieved laugh, "That's my bad. I apologized to Sina earlier about it."
Your brows knit together, glancing at Sina who was now running around the living room. Slipping and sliding between your legs and Hange's.
A momentary silence sits between you two. Not really uncomfortable, but not fully comfortable as you still felt somewhat antsy at not doing anything. You weren't sure whether or not Hange'd be willing to have you near their space, organizing the supplies as you normally do, not sitting from the side and simply watching them.
Sitting idly has you staring at the things you don't normally notice; the dusty bookshelf you've filled with journals of your own and some books you took from your trips to the wall. The way one leg of the chair near the table was rickety and on the brink of breakage.
You stand up abruptly, rubbing your hands at your hips. Hange immediately notices you.
"You okay?"
"Yeah."
A low groan elicits from the room, one that has Hange straightening up. Sina's ears also perk up, spinning circles around the commander as he follows them inside.
You walk towards the door, peeking slightly to see Hange standing beside Levi. His eye cracked open just enough for you to see the shape of it.
"I'll cook us dinner," you mutter as you walk past the door and into the kitchen. Taking the remaining items inside of the baskets to sort them out properly.
When Hange comes back out, it's to say that Levi's doing better. Thanks to what little medical paraphernalia you had stocked in your cabin. They stand a few feet away from you, watching as you skillfully cut up the vegetables on a slab of wood.
"Could you, uhm, boil the water in the pot? I'm making soup," you request, nudging your head towards the back. Hange happily walks past you, taking the stone pitcher beside you with them.
Quite uneasy with the silence behind you, you ask, "Is it okay to ask a question?"
"Of course," they respond.
"What happened?"
Hange takes a moment to respond, a few seconds of silence only to answer rather ambiguously. "A lot happened."
"Clearly," you snort, "but why are you are Levi hiding out in a forest? And what happened to him? From what I've heard before, he was really good at his job."
"It's a long story."
"Well, fortunately, there is nothing else to do here besides talk to each other or face the wall, Hange." You keep your words playful, hoping it'd kickstart your friendship with them. "Better start now."
You don't see the look in their face when you say that, but you do hear them sigh.
They begin from the latest news you could remember: the newly-built railways meant for trade routes and transport. Based from Hange, it was apparently months after that already. Everything, for a lack of a better phrase, has quite literally gone to shit.
A new faction had rose after Eren Yeager's imprisonment—the Yeagerists, as Hange says. You were quite surprised hearing that. You weren't too updated on Paradis' news but you know of Eren Yeager. When the Female Titan had obliterated your home, he was there with her, fighting her tooth and nail.
What you didn't expect however, was for him to be locked in prison—which, apparently, he happened to have broken out of a few days before Hange had stumbled in your cabin.
Levi, the man resting on the wheelbarrow, was caught in a thunderspear explosion guarding a titan shifter—whatever that is. That was Hange's reason as to why he's unable to move and speak much. Truth be told, you don't know what a thunderspear is in the first place, but you think it's a pretty big weapon considering Levi's state.
"I made it, actually," Hange shares, a few seconds after rambling about the mechanism of a thunderspear.
"Oh..." you pause, unsure of how to react.
Do you applaud them? Think of them as a genius?
Hange watches your features as you do think of a response, you keep your eyes glued to the boiling pot though. "That's... wow. You're really smart."
A bitter scoff escapes them, the look in their eyes hardening. They shake their head. "It was supposed to help us fight titans. To protect the citizens of Eldia from titans. Now," their voice begins to leave a bitter taste. Your head turns, watching the ends of their lips deepen into a frown. "Now it's being used against their own comrades. Innocent people are getting hurt because of it. A weapon of destruction."
You keep quiet, letting them continue.
"I thought I was helping him..." Hange's voice lowers into a whisper. The hardness on their features dissolving into sadness. "I thought..." no words follow. At least not for the next few minutes, or the moments after that.
You stand there waiting patiently. Watching the pot, stirring it every now and then, hoping they'd continue. Unfortunately, they didn't.
"I'll get the, uh, the bowls," Hange rushes away, opening the cupboards.
"For what it's worth, Hange," you pause, letting the beat pass between you two. The slender shadow of their shoulders seizing its movements. "It's not your fault."
Days pass by surprisingly easier.
Enough trust has been built from the three days Hange and Levi now spent in your cabin. Just yesterday you had spoken to Levi for the first time ever, though he speaks in a more intimidating manner compared to Hange.
You figure that's how both of them have gotten that close. Opposites do attract; seeing from their own personalities in such little time, there's no doubt about that.
At night, when the entire cabin's asleep, Sina included, you often catch Hange spending their nights outside the cabin. Sitting down on the bench you had outside, gazing at the blank sky.
The first time it happened was because of a quick trip to the bathroom. You should've went back into your room quickly after your business, yet something inside of you stops you in your tracks. Keeping you on the spot right before you reach your room, persuading you to go out and accompany them in the silence of the night.
You wouldn't even try and open up a conversation, you'd just sit there and let the time pass by, maybe get to know your new co-occupant a little more.
At first you slept off the thought, choosing to ignore that voice inside of you. But every night after noticing them outside, it seemed like your body's unable to fully sleep the entire night. One way or another, you'd find yourself standing outside your room, peering out from the window, watching their shoulders move calmly.
This is just me being hospitable, you think as an excuse. Breath getting caught in your throat as you hold the knob of the front door.
You breathe in, breathe out, turning it a quarter of the way when it moves on its own. The piece of wood flies open to reveal a tired Hange.
For a second, neither of you move, stuck in your places. Then, both of your names leave each other's lips in a breathless whisper. The loud chirp of the cicadas filling in the heavy silence.
"I... I noticed you sitting outside for a few nights now," you began, pulling back your arms so your hands rested by your lower back. "I was just, well, y'know, pretty worried. With everything happening, I'm sure you have a million thoughts running in your mind."
They blink at you, face unreadable.
When the words don't find themselves in their mind, you feel a slight tinge of embarrassment. You step back. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have bothered you. I'll head—"
"I would like that."
"What?"
"Your company," Hange admits.
"Oh." Heat washes over the top of your cheeks. "You do?"
The corner of their lips quirk upwards.
"Of course. Want me to say please?"
Despite the dark surroundings, you imagine the mischief brewing in Hange's eye. It was dripping from their tone. The difference from their usual somber and gloomy voice to the one they spoke with now is scarily obvious.
You feel the flutter in your stomach. The rapid beat of your heart felt so foreign, so new. In your years of living in the forest, you never expected feeling this again. Certainly not with the commander of the Survey Corps who had pinned you to the wall at your first meeting, the one you thought was only ever serious.
It takes you a moment to get your wits together. The playful words spoken in that deep voice of theirs definitely was a massive attack on its own. Your heart's still beating quickly but that's a problem for another night. Right now, you have to keep up face.
Carefully, you go out, taking a seat at the wooden bench to the right. It was dark, but the lantern Hange kept at the side illuminated the surroundings just enough.
A body drops beside you with a heavy sigh. Hange's long legs occupying the remaining space there is. Your bare knee touching the fabric of their trousers.
"So, why're you awake?" Hange speaks first, their head straight.
"My body woke me up. Not really sure why." You shrug, "How about you, do you normally sit outside in the middle of the night?"
Hange exhales, "No, I don't... but I can't help it. Staying in a home—away from where I should be, it's, I don't know, keeping me up at night."
"And where should you be, Hange?"
"With my comrades," they answer quickly, "Where the fight is—I should be helping them, planning with them; doing everything I can to fix this mess before it all goes to shit." The frustration in their voice is evident, you could feel the heaviness and pressure weighing on their nerves just from the way their words had hardened.
"I was a coward to run away, but I needed to. Or else Floch and the other Yeagerists would have killed Levi for sure. I... I can't have that happening," Hange continues, shaking their head side-to-side.
You keep quiet, waiting for them to say more, only they don't. You notice the constant bouncing of their knee, shoes lightly scraping at the grass underneath Your hand places itself on top of their knee, putting the joint into a sudden stop.
The sound of Hange's ragged breathing loudens into an audible volume. You do everything you can to resist the urge to look at them, to check for any hint as to what they could be feeling right then.
Suddenly, a warmer, bigger hand comes over yours, bringing you to a total pause. Hange's hand, above yours, enveloping your palm with their own, tightening just slightly. There weren't any words spoken, no other movements—just your hand under theirs, under the blank blue sky.
"It is really fascinating here, do you know that?" Hange began again, shifting the topic.
"Fascinating because of how small it is?" You glance at them at the corner of your eye, resisting that laugh when you see the shy look in their face.
"No! Fascinating because... well, this is the Forest of the Giant Trees. So many things have happened here," Hange blows off a breath, recollecting their memories, "The scouts' first attempt at capturing the Female Titan was here, the Jaw Titan and the Armored Titan went through here as well." They look to their side, you do the same. They were staring at the door, at the direction of the bedrooms. "Levi... him and the scouts tasked with guarding the Beast Titan—the one I told you about. Well, that didn't go quite as planned."
"Many lives have been lost here. Some I know of, some I don't know. Despite that, you had managed to make a life here. A peaceful one too." Hange cranes their head a good one-eighty, facing you now. Locking your gaze with their own. "That's what fascinates me. How you manage to live peaceful life on your own, with little to no contact too. The fact that you even let me and Levi stay here..."
"Well, not really sure if that last one's from the goodness of my heart. You did slam me against the wall twice the first time we met." You're attempt at a lighthearted tease is met with soft laugher from Hange. Your lips mindlessly stretching to a proud grin.
Hange sighs playfully, "I apologized for that, didn't I?"
"Yeah, sorry but a girl still holds grudges."
"Like mother, like son, I see."
"Oh, Sina holds the meanest grudges," you play along, only for the two of you to break out in a fit of laughters.
The small bubble you'd created for the both of you slowly quiets down into a comfortable silence, one where the cicadas sing the words unspoken. You didn't expect for the early morning breeze to be this comforting. Your body unknowingly swaying with the cold winds, eyes slowly dropping down.
You feel a hand on the side of your head, the sudden feeling making you jump out of surprise. Hange's soothing voice enters your ears, "It's okay, you can lay your head down."
Slowly, they push your head to their shoulder, their shoulder's height at a surprisingly comfortable level.
"You sure you don't want to go in yet?" They ask.
"Do you want me to go?"
"...no," Hange's whispering, softer than they've ever spoken to anyone.
"Then no, I'll stay here," you yawn, pulling your knees up the bench, hugging them to your chest. "If you want to talk about anything, just speak, Hange. I'll listen."
Your eyes feel heavier by the second, vision fading in and out, still you try to wait for their words. Unfortunately, just like before, they don't say anything else—but, you do feel them shuffle slightly.
Unbeknownst to you, it was actually Hange kissing the side of your head. A shy press of their lips on your hair, doing everything they can to be as discreet as possible.
They hear your soft snores the moment right after. Their lips curving into a fluttering smile as they wait for your sleep to deepen before doing as you said—speaking.
Ever since that night, it felt like a new door has opened for you and Hange.
They spoke to you comfortably, joked with you, discussed with you; it felt like they've garnered an entirely new sense of ambition with their recent plans on joining forces with the Marleyans to defeat Eren Yeager and the Yeagerists.
Every time they'd map out their plans on that blank notebook you'd given them, it would always be in the room where Levi's in so he could give his own ideas.
At dark, the two of you would always stand outside the cabin and just talk about whatever. Sometimes it's their stories about the Scout Regiment, sometimes it's them teaching you about titan biology or Marleyan technology.
When you find the energy to share about yourself, Hange's ten times more enthusiastic to ask questions about it. Rapidly firing questions until the sun's already right above you two.
You slowly began to see the spark in their eyes. Whenever they arrive at a pretty spotless plan, there's that brightness in them even though sometimes the plan involves things you don't believe to be real.
You hated to admit it but, seeing their eyes light up every time they feel intrigued or enthusiastic makes you smile. You love this version of them, so much so that you agree to be of help to them in any way you can.
The first way you could do that, apparently, was to house these two Marleyans Hange found when they went out with Levi.
"This is Pieck Finger and Commander Theo Magath," Hange welcomes you the two new faces.
The former had an approachable smile on their face despite the suspicious-looking marks on the sides of their face. The latter was at the opposite of the spectrum, with their stern demeanor and crossed arms.
Awkwardly, you smile and invite them inside, handing them bread you baked via a specific kind of oven that Hange made for you.
As much as you loved seeing Hange all busy and motivated, a part of you hated the fact that they were always out. You don't get to speak with them as much anymore. Pieck's out with Commander Theo scouting, meanwhile Hange's busy looking for their comrades inside the walls.
Nowadays, you just keep yourself company with a healing Levi.
"Hange's still out?" He asks as you stroll in the room.
"Mhm."
"So you're bored?"
"And how do you know that?"
"Because... when Hange's here, you don't come into this room unless to bring food. They keep you busy, entertained," Levi says, his voice awfully monotonous, "Don't think I'll do the same. I will bore you even more."
Letting out a dry laugh, you sit on the untouched bed beside their makeshift cart. "That's okay, captain."
And so sit in absolute silence, that's what the two of you did. Listening to nothing but the mundane sounds of animals roaming around the forest, Sina walking in every so often just to nap for a few minutes.
"You do know what happens next, right?" Levi's voice surprises you. It wasn't monotonous, at least not fully. There was a hint of concern in his voice. Something careful.
You turn your head to him, waiting.
"Once Hange gathers our remaining comrades, we'll leave to stop Eren," he states, words leaving his mouth in a slower pace, eyes glued to see how you'd react.
"I know that," you say quietly. "Hange told me about that when they were planning. They said it's a big fight going after Eren... and that all of you would have to work together."
Levi hums, nodding softly. "What are you going to do then?"
"What am I going to do?" You echo.
The question hits you like a freight train.
What are you going to do?
You'll be back to being the only occupant of the cabin. You won't have somebody helping you arrange the supplies. Sina's daily walks would be reduced back to once a day. No more I'll cut these, you wash those.
No more late night talking on the bench.
"Huh," was all you could say, the realization slowly creeping in on you. "What am I going to do..."
A bittersweet smile unknowingly draws on your face, one Levi recognizes all too well.
"I'm sorry," he says consolingly. You look at him, quite surprised, only to see him facing the other way.
You feel a streak of wetness fall down your cheek. You rush to wipe it away, sucking in a deep breath as you hear a loud knock at the front door.
"I'll get that," you mumble, rushing out.
When you open the door, numerous foreign faces greet you. You feel slightly intimidated at how they all stared at you with blank faces.
The blond man to the side suddenly steps forward, holding in front of him a bundle of flowers. "Hange said you'd let us in if we give you this?"
"Oh," you resist the urge to laugh, "Well, uh, you guys didn't have to. Please come in."
They all usher in at your word, taking their own space in the small living room. You try your best to hand them water and any leftover food you could give them. You even show them to Levi. Some went and spoke to him while the others remained in the common area.
Not long after their arrival, Hange returns with Commander Theo and Pieck. The raven-haired woman choosing to remain outside, resting in her titan form—which honestly really weirded you out the first time you saw her in it.
"Hey, sorry for not giving you a heads-up," Hange says, pulling you to a vacant room. The one you had made into your bedroom actually. "Have you met them yet? Come, I'll introduce you."
You don't get a chance to protest because they're quickly taking you back out, calling the attention of all of their comrades, announcing your name like it was the winning number of a lottery. They greet you tiredly, offering weak smiles. Hange doesn't bother much with it, still keeping an upbeat look. They do bring you to the same blonde fellow that carried the flowers, introducing you to him specifically.
"Why did you tell them to bring me flowers?" You whisper over at Hange, pulling them to an ear-level by their shirt.
Hange responds, "I was supposed to get them for you but—uh, y'know, plans kinda got sidetracked." They notice the growing bewilderment in your face, quickly assuring you, "If it makes you feel better, you can think of the flowers as payment for dinner tonight! We'll be feeding a lot."
You follow the direction of their eyes, watching the crowd separate into their own little groups. Two boys in particular bickering about the arrangement of the poor flowers.
Numerous barks suddenly erupt from the living room. You and Hange immediately turning to see Sina by the front door, barking alertedly at the unfamiliar people.
"Sina!" The dog immediately runs to Hange, hiding himself in between their legs. "They're friends, sweet boy." They ruffle their hands through the soft fur of the animal, keeping their legs close together so as to not let Sina out while agitated.
As if understanding their words, Sina barks.
"He has one eye too, Hange," the man named Jean remarks, strolling into the kitchen.
"You two look alike." Another, the one with the semi-shaved hair, comments. Hange laughs along with them, whisking them back to the living room, Sina sniffing the two men while his tail wags side to side.
As time passed, you couldn't help but notice the slightly tensed and heavy atmosphere in your own living room. Even with Hange's attempts of lightening up the room, it was clear how uncomfortable they all were in one space.
Once Sina had familiarized himself with the others, now succumbing to the pleasure of belly rubs, Hange returns to you.
"Are you sure they're all okay staying here? I mean—if some of them want to rest, they can sleep in the other room. I still have a few mats and—"
"It's okay," Hange interjects, placing a hand on your shoulder, "We won't be here for long. We... we plan on leaving at sunrise." You don't miss the guilt that flashes through their face, the way they turn their head away to avoid your eyes.
"Oh..." you inhale sharply, "That's fast."
"The Rumbling is moving faster than we had anticipated. If we want to reach Eren before he gets too far, we need to move as soon as possible. The only way to do that is using the Azumabitos' flying boat," Hange looks at you with a sternness in their face, though their gaze held something entirely different.
You do your best not to think too much about what that difference is. It would only make things way harder if you do. The weight of unspoken words settle between the two of you, neither of you brave enough to speak of the obvious.
"I think it's better to cook and eat outside," you turn your attention to the cauldron behind you, "We're not gonna fit at the table anyway."
"Right. I'll have the others to set up the bonfire. I've restocked your supplies before I left earlier so I'm sure there's enough for everyone," the corner of Hange's lips extends into a subtle smile, one that lingers even as you turn your back to pull out the chopping board.
The foreign faces of earlier now huddled in a circle. A bonfire sat in the middle, Hange kneeling beside it as they stirred the cauldron hanging above.
You stood over Hange, dropping in dashes of spices as you taste it every so often to check for the taste. The fact that this could quite possibly be the last meal they'd ever eat in their life has you slightly pressured to give them the best meal you could.
"How does it taste?" You hold the spoon by your mouth, blowing it carefully, a palm underneath it to catch for any drip.
Hange puts a pause to their conversation with the group. They look up at you, opening their mouth for the spoon. "It's good. Better than how you usually make it. Is there an occasion?" They let out a dramatic satisfied hum, smacking their lips together.
You look around, feeling awkward at how playful Hange is despite the numerous eyes looking at you two. Doing your best to act unaffected, you roll your eyes and turn your back to them. Hiding the smile that curves at your lips as you walk back into your home to grab all of the bowls you had.
When you go out, Hange's walking over to you, still pre-occupied with briefing the rest of the group about the plans, though not too pre-occupied to not help you out with ladling the soup into the bowls. Armin and Jean helped out in distributing the bowls, while you decided to head to the bushes a few feet away from the main circle, checking in on a sleeping Levi.
Sina's right under his feet, wagging his tail, an easy indicator of how Levi was probably playing with him a few seconds before.
"I know you're not asleep," you call out. "Are you not hungry?"
Levi grumbles out a noise, still having his eyes closed. You huff, heading back to the main circle, immediately getting a bowl placed in front of you when you sat down. Hange scoots back from the center until they're right beside you, slipping their cloak down your head to cover your upper body from the winds.
Your brow creases, "What're you doing?"
Hange doesn't respond, instead they take heaping spoonfuls of their soup and begin eating. The entire discussion opening up once again.
"That was... eventful, to say the least," you walk inside of your room, pushing out a lighthearted laugh as best as you could.
"I apologize. They, well, they're usually better at keeping their emotions in check. Just not tonight I guess," Hange follows you in, the door clicking behind them.
Both of your gazes fall on each other, the silence of the four corners of your room felt way more deafening than usual. Well, to be frank, it is the first and only time you two are alone in your room. To say that the room felt a lot smaller with Hange in it is a pretty big understatement.
Not only does the room feel smaller, it feels a whole damn hotter too.
"It's okay," you tell them, awkwardly playing with your fingers behind your back. "Better they get it out now than in battle, right?"
Hange blinks at you, a light huff leaving their lips, "Right. You're right."
"So, a few hours and you guys are leaving, huh?"
They say your name, regret lacing their voice.
"It's okay, Hange," the smile you show don't reach your eyes, it doesn't even reach your throat as your words sound more apologetic than it is assuring, "After everything I've heard tonight, and from all the stories you've told me, there's no one else that can do this if not you guys." You let out a deep breath, easing your shoulders down. "As much as I hate to think of how dangerous it is, I can't keep you in this small cabin, Hange."
"It's not small," Hange argues back, their voice low but playful, lifting either sides of their lips to a sheepish smile. "It's the perfect size, actually."
"For you?" You couldn't help but scoff, arms crossing over your chest.
"For me..." Hange steps forward, drawing out their vowels, "...for you..." they take another step, keeping their hands behind themselves. "...for Sina." Their breath hitches as they take one more step, crowding in your space, eye falling down to your lips before they capture your eyes.
You look up, suddenly feeling weak in the knees, "Hange."
"I would give everything I can to stay here for a night longer," they whisper your name.
Time seems to slow down as every movement right after hits you tenfold; the way their head drops down, staring deep into your eyes with nothing but affection. The end of your lips twitch, your eyes betraying you as they fall down to Hange's own mouth, the way it parts for you so pliantly renders you senseless.
At least only for that moment.
Their lips touch yours, careful and unmoving, the shape of it slotting perfectly in yours. Feeling your heart beat louder, you throw every inhibition out of the window and move your lips. Inexperienced as you are, Hange smoothly maneuvers your head to the side, letting themselves in your mouth as they explore it willingly. The hand that cradles your cheek runs a gentle finger across the skin, guiding your movements as much as they could.
You taste the savory soup you'd made earlier. You taste the sweet long nights you spent talking about the future with them. You taste the bitter future you no longer have with them.
A small moan slips out of your throat as they bite the skin of your mouth, running their tongue along the line of your lips reverently. You grip the fabric of their top, pressing yourself to them, desperate to have them closer.
Hange pulls away before it could get any further, the area around their lips now shinier with your saliva. The air feels oddly lighter, like a momentary breath of air. Literally. You look away for a split second, pressing yourself closer to the wall and away from them, feeling a bit self-conscious.
"I want you to have this," Hange clears their throat, pulling out an envelope.
You say nothing, keeping your attention on them and not on the object in their hands.
"This is a letters patent," they begin, "I spoke with Queen Historia on one of my trips inside of the wall. If... y'know, I don't come back to the cabin, I wanted you and Sina to have a home inside of Wall Rose. You can buy fresh bread in the morning, pick out flowers－"
"Hange, you are coming back." You cut them off, horror flooding your features. "You will come back, Hange, don't think about whether or not you will because you are."
Before your words tremble any further, Hange pulls you into their arms, pressing you to the wall as they overtake every one of your senses.
You smell them, hear them, see them; they're all that you can think of at that moment. The way their arms tighten around you in a way you have never felt before, the way their fingers run through the ends of your hair, soothing you like how they do Sina when he's agitated.
The two of you stay like that for a few moments, at least until they feel your breathing even out.
When your eyes press together, tears dropping in rapid streaks, you hear them speak, "I will always be here."
That morning, you don't even think about going outside the cabin.
Not then, and certainly not the week that follows after.
The envelope Hange had told you about that night remained on top of your bedside table, underneath your lap, untouched. You can't bear the thought of ever opening it and deciding you want to abandon this place you've built from the ground up, the very place where you met them, and their friends.
You just can't.
This is what remains of your memory of them, of their warmth. Every night you wake up to stare at the vacant bench through the window, constantly reminding yourself of the many nights you'd spent with them talking about anything and everything.
Even Sina isn't safe from the longing. Whenever you come back from gathering supplies, Sina's always by the table, wagging their tail patiently as if waiting for Hange to stroll in and organize the supplies. Sometimes you'd find Sina staring blankly at the wall of the room previously occupied by Levi, head bowed, scraping the floor with his paw.
"I know, boy, I know," you murmur, dropping your chin on Sina's head as you clipped his nails. "I miss them too," you frown at them, gazing to the far out lands.
Before you know it, three months passes by just like that.
In those three months, you've thought about taking Queen Historia's envelope and actually taking the house in Wall Rose exactly two times. In those two times, you were on the bench outside your cabin, letting the green cloak Hange had given you shield you from the harsh winds.
In those months as well, Sina's got a dog-wife of his own and a litter of four pups. You named them using the four names you remember from Hange's team: Pieck, Armin, Jean, and of course, Levi.
You practically gather supplies for a whole family and one now. The whole family being Sina's wife, June, and pups, with you as the plus one. You still do gather flowers every other day, arranging them in different ways to keep the imagination flowing. Sometimes you pick out specific flowers that remind you of Hange, though it usually changes considering Hange's own spontaneous nature.
"Pieck! You can't keep on biting your brother," you scold the dark-haired pup, pulling her away from her sibling, Levi, who snarls angrily.
Glancing over at the side, you see the two other pups resting on their mother's belly, way too sleepy to deal with Pieck and Levi's roughhousing. You call over Sina, the older dog now walking with a pretentious sense of duty.
When he gets in your arms, though, he goes back to being the same one-eyed puppy you found knocking on your door. Pieck and Levi joins in their father, playful yelps and barks filling the quiet home.
That day, you decide on taking Sina's wife out on a walk, not really needing to clip on her collar. She happily carried the small straw bag you made for her some time ago, putting in it what light harvest you had from the mini garden you'd set up way before.
Unlike Sina, June was a more timid, more gentle being. Her coat was golden, almost blonde actually.
She quietly nuzzles her head to your calf when you two walk, not really straying away and throwing herself to the bushes like Sina does. You think her and Sina are the perfect balance of parents for the four pups.
When you two head back, your baskets were all filled to the brim. The universe seemed to bless you for today as you manage to catch two chickens while June manages a bulk of five fishes.
Sina and the pups all run to June as the two of you come in. June lovingly letting her pups go under her, bending her neck to sniff them all one by one. Her and Sina nuzzle into each other, the male dog licking her snout playfully.
You roll your eyes at the sweet couple, though something catches your eyes.
There were only three pups there. Out of the two dark-coated pups that take after Sina—Pieck and Levi—there was only one there.
It was Pieck under June. You figured that from the red collar you handmade for her.
"Levi! Where are you?" You call out to the walls. "Hey, where's your sibling?" you ask the bundle of three this time, squatting down to their level as they run around you without a care.
You sigh, standing back up and walking into the main bedroom. You look around to an empty room, no traces of the small pup anywhere. Dropping yourself to the floor, you look underneath the bed. "Levi, you better not be hiding in—"
Tch.
Your neck whips back, your blood running cold.
"I can't believe you named a pup after me," comes the disapproving voice of Levi.
Not Sina's son Levi—definitely not—but the cart-ridden, one-eyed, bandaged-up Levi that you'd only spoken with maybe a few times the entire time he and Hange were staying with you.
This Levi was standing now. He wore a white button top and black slacks, one arm on a sling, holding in that arm the guilty pup you've been looking for.
You rise up, analyzing his face in silence. The previously bandaged portion of his face now sported numerous healed scars and stitches, his right eye was nothing but white, out and for every person to see.
He looked... well, he looks perfect for someone that just saved the world that's for sure. Each scar had clearly earned its place on him.
"You're here," you say slowly, eyes drifting to the doorway just in case somebody would want to follow up. "Only you... wow."
Levi scoffs, "You could at least act a bit more happy, you know?"
"Sorry—I am happy," you laugh nervously, "I just... I don't know, didn't expect you to be the one returning back here." You twist your fingers together, feeling your worry grow at each second.
"I'm sorry," Levi looks down, his voice nothing but a whisper.
Your heart aches.
So that's why.
"I'll make you some tea. Hange had told me you drink black tea, nothing else," you do your best to look away as you walk past him, walking into your kitchen to start brewing some tea.
Levi takes a seat by your living room, gently letting down Levi the Puppy as he rejoins his siblings. He watched the group of pups bolt around, running after one another whilst their parents laid down on the cool floor.
"So, I take it the Rumbling was stopped?" You question.
He hums, "It was rough, but it was stopped. Did anything happen here while we—ehem—I was gone?"
"That happened," you nudge your chin towards the dog couple at his feet, pulling a small smile from his lips. "Aside from that, nothing. I would have tried travelling to the walls but... it's rough there. When I go there, I wanted it to be for good. Not for just a trip."
The envelope previously hidden by your nightstand was now placed on top of your coffee table. It's been on there since the last time you've thought about bringing the letter to Queen Historia, where you could honor Hange's last selfless wish for you.
"I'm glad you're still okay," Levi shares after a moment's silence.
"I should be the one saying that," you joke, "But, uh, not to be too nosy or anything, but where are the others? How come you're the only one back?" Another question pops into your mind as well, "What happened to the actual Rumbling?"
Levi shifts in his seat, taking the tea you placed in front of him, letting his palm absorb the heat from it. "One at a time," he says, taking a slow sip. "The others remained in Marley. After the Rumbling, all of the survivors decided it'd be best to stay in a singular residence and rebuild the community as opposed to everyone going on their own."
"Some did go on their own, but a lot remained. Armin kept his position as commander too, Hange had passed it down to him before anything happened." Hearing their name was like a trigger word for you. The mere mention of it was enough to have your heart beating quicker.
He continues, "Armin and the others were on their way here for a meeting as peace ambassadors. I figured I'd tag along. See what you're up to." He glances at the pair of dark-coated puppies near Sina, "Had I known you named one after me, I would've never came back."
You laugh at him, the way his words remain spoken in monotone even when he jokes. A subtle smile tugs at his lips, the two of you settling in a comfortable silence as he finishes his tea.
Conversation flows through the both of you so easily you'd think you two were childhood friends. Contrary to how Levi presents himself, he is pretty talkative. He's talked about the recent developments of the gardens in their refuge house, how Onyankopon took him and the others to a nearby Marleyan town, how advanced yet undeniably similar their way of living is to Eldians.
Despite the long hours spent talking, it is clear the two of you tiptoed around a specific subject. More specifically, a particular person.
you decide to just rip off the bandaid.
"Look, Levi, I appreciate the visit, but please. At least let me know how Hange is doing," you push out the next few words, "or if they even made it through... alive."
Levi stares at you, his lips pursing into a thin line. His silence deafened you to the point of almost insanity, the many thoughts of what could be filled your mind.
It takes him a while, but he speaks. "I'm sorry."
You stop him right there. "Thank you," you let your head fall, letting a lone tear fall as you wipe the rest away. "Should I—are you staying for the night?"
Levi sighs, "I came here with Hange's last request in mind."
"What do you mean last request?"
"Hange made me promise to take care of you should anything happen. To speak plainly... would you want to move to Marley with me and the others?"
Oh.
Marley is nothing like you imagined.
It is just as advanced as how Levi had told you. Transportations that needed no horses, delicacies you couldn't even dare to imagine, and garments that made your eyes shine in interest.
Everywhere you look, there's something new to see. A new color to discover, a new food to taste, a new flower to smell; it was all so overwhelming. Sina, June, and the four pups were definitely as excited as you are when Levi finally lets them out from the open-top crate.
"Keep a close eye on 'em, Onyankopon's coming to pick us up," Levi tells you, guiding the way to a less crowded sidewalk.
You nod, keeping the dogs' leashes close as they hurry to sniff the people around. Apologies spill out of you, excusing their behavior every time someone twists their body to check what it was at their feet.
This is really it.
Even as you stood at the helm on the ship on your way to Marley, you couldn't believe you were truly leaving your cabin for good.
Levi helped you pack years of your life into boxes. Keeping you company the entire time. You learn more about him as you packed away; he was born in the Underground, at a brothel, where he had experienced the difficulties of life even before age ten.
His first introduction to the scouts, those that had fallen, and many other anecdotes that has you wondering how he had lived through them.
A nudge to your elbow gets you out of your thoughts.
The automobile had already arrived, an approachable man with a familiar buzz-cut sat at the front seat with the circular wheel. You assume he's the one controlling the mobile itself.
"Nice to meet you, Onyankopon," you greet, shaking his extended hand. "These are my dogs: Sina, June," presenting the two big dogs first, you pick up the smaller ones in your arms. "Jean, Armin, Pieck, and—"
"Oi, that's enough. Get on here," Levi cuts you off, glaring at you with furrowed brows. The mobile door was already pulled open, waiting for you and the dogs now.
"This one's Levi," you whisper, breaking into a cheeky smile as you raise the grumpy puppy up.
Onyankopon lets out a laugh, happily taking him from you, teasingly glancing at actual Levi.
He rolls his eyes, helping Sina and June up the mobile, "Brats."
The trip took about a half an hour before it concluded. A large, multi-windowed home appearing in the horizon with numerous people coming in and out of the front door. To the side of the house, there was a massive garden. Two—three people were crouched down, mini shovels in their hands.
A few signages were propped in front by the fences:
Newly planted trees. Do not step.
"They don't bite, right?" Onyankopon questions, carrying the four puppies in his arms while the other two crowded at his feet.
"The parents don't, but the pups do have to be acclimated to their surroundings first. Levi's a moody one, Armin's shy but doesn't bark, Jean loves being pet, Pieck's more of a watcher than anything so she shouldn't really get into much trouble."
"That's enough," Levi grunts, slinging your bag over his shoulder.
You scoop up June into your arms, "Is that where we're staying?" Pointing to the massive home, you look to Levi for an answer.
"No," he answers, "You and these dogs will be staying at the bungalow right there," his arm darts out to point at a spot not far-away from the main house, a big enough plain between the two houses.
Its exterior was similar to your original cabin. Pointed roof, wooden logs for pillars, neutral painted colors. There was a bench to the right of the front door, a prettier and more well-made version of the one you made yourself.
There's something awfully nostalgic of it. That little nostalgia that grows in your chest the longer you look at it from a far, the more you miss them.
"And here I thought I would finally have housemates again," you laugh dryly, "How come there's a bungalow there anyway?"
"I think you know why."
"Don't tell me Hange had you guys make this for me," you shake your head in disbelief, shifting your gaze from Levi to Onyankopon. "Are you serious?"
"Don't look at me, I didn't make it," Levi confirms.
Onyankopon butts in, "Guys, we better start walking now before Levi here pees on Levi's shoes."
"Ha-ha, very funny." You put down June with a chuckle, taking the rest of the bags from the car and following the two men's trail.
The volunteers working at the compound watch as you walk by. You were already thinking of what to do to help soon as you get yourself settled in. You expect to spend more time in the main house than at the bungalow alone, and you think the dogs would also enjoy running around the main house as well.
It was a ten-minute walk from the fence, five minutes if you come from the main house itself. By the time you reach the front door with Levi and Onyankopon, they exchange a look before dropping off your bags by the bench. Onyankopon whistles, getting the dogs' attention, "You should look inside first. We'll take the dogs to get them acquainted with the other animals in the compound."
"He'll do that. I'll give them a thorough wash after." Levi digs into his pocket and suddenly hands you a handkerchief, head turned away, "Don't cry too much."
Some part of you felt thankful at how blunt Levi is, at least you didn't have to overthink anything. What he thinks, he says.
So you take the piece of fabric from him, thanking him. "How thoughtful."
You wait for them to reach the gardens before you go in. Your hand enclosing the copper knob, twisting it as you push the door open.
The layout was just like your cabin. It was a whole lot bigger though, with many storages and additions of technology. The kitchen was way more spacious than the one you had, counters with foreign machines above and underneath, stovetop now integrated to the surface themselves. It still overlooked the living room too, perfect for cooking with guests.
If only they could've been there with you, exploring the three-bedroom bungalow with you; their laughter and unfunny jokes keeping you entertained even on the most boring days. Taking off some of the chores from your shoulders.
You check each of the rooms, frown growing deeper with each ghost of them that you see; Hange would have loved filling the empty bookshelves in the small office in the home. Hange would have spent day and night by the desk in the common room, planning or developing something all the while you re-read a book or journaled.
A new invention of Hange's making would always be in the kitchen. Some new piece of tech to make your cooking life a bit easier.
The bench outside would be worn down with how much time you and Hange spend there. It was at the perfect spot to gaze up into the sky too, no tall trees and thick leaves to disrupt your view.
You go back into the cabin, glancing to your right. The dining table was there. Just like the one in your cabin as a vase sat in the middle of it, holding a fresh arrangement of flowers.
Hange must have really given them a long list of things to do, the thought makes you smile, imagining Hange sitting them down and writing out a bazillion things for them to do when they... leave.
The happy thoughts end there as the memories come flooding in. Every last bit of it, albeit short and sudden, made life alone in your cabin a lot more bearable. You didn't expect something so... unexpected would make a lasting impact on you until now.
Could it have been the universe's way of giving back to you for all the cruelties it had caused you? Well, then again, why'd they take it back?
The universe gave you a glimpse of a life with somebody—your somebody—and they took it away from you as easily and quickly as it came.
Now you're left here in the emptiness of your home, standing in front of the door, waiting for something that won't—
"What—fuck!" Your eyes water as your back hits the wall with a loud thump. The back of your head smashing against a firm palm as opposed to the firm concrete of a wall.
You feel your heart stop.
One eye on the right, the left one covered by an eyepatch; that same mess of brunette hair, those silver glasses; darkened marks on the side of their face... and yet, that same grin that made your heart fall all over again is still there.
"Hange?"
Their grin widens, moving their arm to pin your shoulders. "I don't think we should keep meeting like this." Hange's gaze drops to your lips, then back to your bewildered eyes.
For a moment, the world is nothing but a mere figment of your imagination.
Your eyes close weakly. This can't be. Hange's—they're dead. Levi said—
The moment you feel a pair of lips press against yours, every doubt in your mind disappeared, the arm holding you to the wall following suit. You throw your arms over their shoulders with an overjoyed call of their name, pulling them down as you impatiently deepened the kiss, tilting your head just as how Hange had the first time they kissed you.
A pair of hands hold either side of your waist, carefully guiding you to the nearest room. When your back hits the soft cushion of your mattress, you pull away for a moment to check if it really is Hange.
“Your…” words drift past you, unsure of how to bring it up. Thankfully, Hange understands you perfectly. They let your hand hold the burnt side of their face, the taut skin at your palm. They assure you with a whisper, “It’s okay.”
No other words are exchanged. Instead, you lean forward, pressing a delicate kiss on that side of their face. Another on their patched eye.
You brush away the stray lock of hair falling to their face, your heart swelling in its cage as that warm smile grows on their bite-ridden lips.
"I'm assuming you missed me?" They jest, cocking up one eyebrow.
"God, I have so many things to say to you right now," you respond back, staring deeply as you memorize each feature on their face. "But all I can think of right now is how long we have before Levi and Onyankopon come back with the dogs."
A mischievous glint sparkles in their eye, lips pulling to a smirk as they dip down and capture your mouth once more. Hips grinding against your core, the roughness of their trousers as opposed to your skirt was enough to have you breathing even heavier. Each kiss feeling like a tousle of tongues, one where you willingly let them win.
Your legs cross behind their back, caging them in. Hange makes quick work to unbutton the shirts on your vest, throwing it away along with the white inner you had on. Now left in your bra and skirt, Hange shoves their head in between your breasts, wet open-mouthed kisses left all over the valley of skin.
You pull them down yourself, exposing your nipples to the warm air. Hange locks eyes with you, hunger and longing in their eye. Their lips close in on one tit, tongue lapping and suckling around your nipple like a babe.
"Oh—that, ohh, that feels good," your eyes screw shut, the foreign feeling sending shivers straight down your spine, into your coiling center.
Hange hums, the vibrations making you bite your lip all the more. "I missed you," they move to your other breast, licking a trail from the base up to the peak in a lewd display of tongue, letting you watch as they twirl the stiff peak around before sucking it in their mouth. They pull away, a string of saliva connecting your nipple to their lips, "I wished we could've did this before I left, sweet girl."
There it is. That nickname.
They'd always call Sina sweet boy whenever he does something, and a part of you wondered how it'd feel being called the same by them.
Now you know how—it was addicting.
Very fucking addicting.
"More, Hange, please," you plead with them, grabbing their face in your hands. "I need it now."
The deep chuckle that leaves their throat has you tightening your legs around them, arching your chest to feel them.
"We have time, sweet girl, don't worry. No one's going to come to this cabin. I made sure of that." They brush your hair behind your ear, capturing the needy look on your face. "Now take this off of me, now."
You didn't need to be told twice.
Both of you are naked in a second. Clothes scattered all over the empty bedroom, curtains shut and covered.
Your body was a painting of Hange's devotion. They made sure to pay every part of you with the attention owed from their three months of absence.
Blossoming love bites were all over your body in so little time. Over your collarbone, on the valley, in between, and under your breasts. Down to your pelvis, to your inner thighs; Hange didn't want to leave any part of you spotless.
"Hange, I haven't done this before. Can't we go with something more—I don't know, normal?" You can't help the crease that forms on your forehead, nervousness and arousal growing at the same time as you feel their breath directly against your cunt.
They run their palms over the globe of your ass, watching from below as the muscle jiggles with each time they move their hands.
"This is normal," they argue back, voice sounding throaty and rough, "I'm—I'm just having a quick drink. Nothing too out of the ordinary!"
"You just asked me to sit on your face! How is that any normal?"
"It's gonna be normal the moment we live together, sweet girl. I'll have you sit on my face every time we have nothing to do," you feel their smile across your southern region, mouth gliding against your dripping lips teasingly.
"I'll get this view every fucking day. Maybe have you sit on my face every morning before I help out in the main house, get some motivation in me before I start the day, huh?" They press a kiss in your inner thigh, chasing hungrily when you try to lift yourself up.
"You're—hey!—you're not listening to me, Hange," despite how much their words affect you, how erotic the sight of them is, you can't really dismiss the possibility of—"Hange!"
Your hands immediately shoot up to try and claw at the wall, a loud and high-pitched moan escaping your lips as Hange had pulled you down their face without any other warning. Their tongue sinking into you, exploring your gummy walls with such hunger and curiosity that you can't keep in your sweet sounds anymore. You could feel their nose bump into your clit with each time they lick up into you, the simultaneous stimulations driving you insane by the second.
Eyes screwed shut, you feel saliva drip from the corner of your mouth, falling somewhere on the pillows as you drop one hand to grab at Hange's hand. They had their arms around your thigh, strong muscles keeping you still even as you shake and tremble.
Their tongue slides up to suckle at your clit, twirling and flicking it around before enclosing it in their warm mouth. Satisfied groans leaving their mouth, vibrating through your insides.
You could feel the coil in your stomach tightening, the muscles in your thighs spasming as you slowly lose control, legs squeezing their head. Curses leave your lips, desperate pleads of Hange's name as every sensation seems to grow stronger by the second.
"H—Oh, god, s'good... so good, Hange. Shit. I—I can't," your sobs increase in volume, eyes rolling to the back of your head, cunt clenching uncontrollably around their tongue.
"You can, sweet girl," they pull away a second to mumble that, diving back in hungrily.
You look down weakly, letting your forehead touch the wall as you watch them. Their head moved up and down vigorously, tongue-fucking you so messily that you could see the tip of their nose shining with your wetness. Each thrust of their tongue hitting all the right spots.
It doesn't take long for you to feel that sensation Hange had told you about before they made you straddle their face. That delicious peak that consumes your mind, the one that has every part of you clenching and shaking pathetically, the pleasure running through your body in waves upon waves.
You couldn't feel anything for a moment. Your weight dropping entirely into Hange's arms, trusting them enough to hold you up as you slowly drift back down.
Hange watched every moment of that. The way your legs convulsed around their head, the involuntary thrust of your hips against their mouth, desperate to chase your own pleasure for you.
They ease you down from the orgasm, slow and gentle licks until you slowly open your eyes again. The hoarse question of what're you looking at? making them grin.
"You okay?" They ask, licking up the remnants of your release, chuckling whenever you twitch away.
"That... That was insane," you say for the first time. You had one hand holding your hair away, the other on your forehead. "You're insane, Hange."
"No, actually it's just your orgasm," they say as-a-matter-of-factly.
You blink at them, not really back to your sanity.
They laugh, tapping your thigh, "C'mon, up," they gently pull one leg away, careful to catch your waist as you drop to one side, "I want you to lay down for me."
"Hange." The start of your complaint is met with a shush from them, arms snaking around your torso.
They take matters into their own hands as they maneuver you down the mattress all the while letting you taste your own release from their lips. "Taste that? Your sweet cunt?"
With one last kiss, they move away from you. Crawling down until they sat in between your spread legs, spreading their own to give you a glimpse of their gleaming arousal.
Their cunt was dripping. Begging. Enticing you with each second Hange sat with their legs spread.
You watch as Hange takes two fingers into their mouth, bringing their slender fingers down to circle their clit. The vulgar display of their own neediness igniting the fire in your core.
"I'll need your help with this one, sweet girl," they grunt, biting their lip roughly.
"What is it—what do I do?" You ask, too aroused to worry about how pathetic you sounded.
Hange scoots forward, holding up your left leg and letting it rest on their hip, intertwining their legs with yours. Both of your cunts face each other, a few inches away, equally desperate.
"Fuck," you let out, sitting up on your elbows to get a clear view. Your eyes widen as you look at the sensuality of your positions now.
"I know, sweet girl," they breathed out, voice just as gruff as yours, "Tell me how it feels, alright? This'll feel a million times better if you enjoy it too so," their eye locks with yours, one more devilish grin on their lips, "Don't hold back, okay?"
You nod, the anticipation builds in your core as Hange moves closer, their fingers helping in spreading apart their pussy lips. Their clit press directly to yours. Even while perfectly still, you could feel the pleasure buzzing through every nerve on your body.
The first roll of their hips has your head falling back, the slippery drag of their slit against yours was heavenly.
Hange whimpers, gripping your thigh for leverage as they began to move, snapping their hips to grind against yours. The wet sounds of your cunts sliding together fueling the fire in you, pushing you to move your own hips in tandem with theirs.
This is new. This is sonew.
You've never thought of something like this to bring you pleasure, not in this kind of position definitely.
Each time your cunt meets theirs in a rough grind, your breathy whines turn into crude moans. Hands clawing to hold Hange's, desperate to feel them hold you in any way they could.
"Talk to me," Hange demands, gentle yet commanding.
"W-what—ah!" your eyes roll back, unable to think of anything else but the pleasure. "More. More—Hange, more!"
You hear them huff, their free arm reaching over to pull you close to them. "More?" Their hips grind against yours with more force, teeth clenching together. "Is this enough? Is this good? Tell me, sweet girl. Use your words."
Your forehead drops to theirs, eyes peeling open to gaze straight into their hooded eye, your eyebrows jerking inwards. "Yes!" You scream, lips falling apart as you struggle to put together words, "Fuck—feels so good, Hange. I-I... need more, please."
"Huh," they let out a laugh, leaning forward to lay down kisses all over your face. Licking the salty tears before they even fully reach your jaw. "Didn't expect you to be this greedy, baby," they whisper, holding you by the back of your neck, closing the distance as your nipples touch together.
The two of you were nothing but a tangle of passion, desperate to drive each other to the very peak. Your cunts filling the room with lewd noises, almost enough to rival the loudness you both made with your moans and whimpers.
Your arms wrap around Hange, the last of your energy now spent on taking what you want, what you desperately need even though you just got off of an orgasm a few minutes ago.
Hange pulls you away just enough to get you to look at them. "Together, okay? I'm right with you," they grip you at the hips, using their strength to grind yourself against them until the two of you come together in a mess of cries.
Your hips jerk weakly, body falling to the mattress as you stare up at the ceiling with a daze look. The stars still present in your vision.
A body drops on top of you. Your sweaty bodies on top of one another, their head resting by your shoulder, face into the mattress.
The two of you lay there in silence, the tiredness seeping in. Thankfully, it wasn't long before Hange pulls their body up from yours, propping their elbow on the cushion.
They smile at you, toothy and playful, completely ignoring the sweat that's dripping from your neck to your naked chest.
You weren't as disciplined as them, so your eyes immediately drop to stare at their tits.
"Eyes up," they whistle.
"Oh," you say playfully, "I kind of got distracted."
Hange scoffs at you, taking your chin in between their fingers and pulling you into an open-mouthed kiss. Their skillful tongue subduing yours and exploring your mouth.
"You really gotta to teach me that some time," you comment once you pull away.
"Oh, I'll teach you a lot alright," they grin changing both of your positions before the room erupts in giggles and, probably, more moaning.
"You should've told me they were alive! You watched me cry and lay my heart out for nothing," you hit Levi on the shoulder the moment you see him again.
Both you and Hange were fully clothed now, having just entered the main house where you spot a lot of familiar faces. The dogs were out in the garden with Hange, freshly bathed according to Onyankopon.
"Hey, you cut me off every time I talked about Hange. Not my fault you're impatient," Levi responded back, snippy in his tone yet you don't miss the slight amusement curling at the corner of his mouth.
"Oh really? You didn't think to tell me Hange's alive even when we got to the boat?"
Levi shrugs, drinking his tea. "Must have slipped my mind."
hearts, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! if you liked my work, you could consider commissioning / supporting me <3
summary: freshman year of college has you going insane. good thing clark has a knack for knowing exactly when to sweep you off your feet, way before any unwanted crashouts happen.
pairing: clark kent x fem!reader (same universe as the alchemy and so high school)
warnings: fluff then pure smut / established college relationship / penetration (f) / teasing / public stuff?? idk u do it with another person in the room / clark being a sweet (and horny) bf / dirty talk / foreplay / alludes to cockwarming
a/n: i’m bad at tagging warnings so forgive me if i missed anything else
A choir of relieved sighs—including yours—echoed throughout the auditorium-styled classroom.
You had already packed your stuff five minutes before the bell rang and so you literally dashed out of the classroom as soon as you could. You don't think you could spend another second in that wretched classroom without going insane.
You already spent an all-nighter last night trying to finish your research. Earlier this morning, you slept in. If it weren't for Chloe waking you up with a cup of coffee, you would have definitely slept through the day.
Walking through the halls of the building with a frown on your face until you reach the entrance door. Your phone rings the moment you stepped out. The ringing sound making you cringe as you put it close to your ear.
"Hello?"
Instantly, a voice you've been waiting for comes through. "Hey baby."
"Clark." You melt into the phone, sighing relievedly as you sit on the steps, running your hand through your hair. "I missed you."
"I missed you even more, sweetheart. How was your day?" Clark's tone softens even more, his voice bordering a mother's cooing.
You don't respond to him, simply shaking your head side-to-side as if Clark could see you do that. You're on the brink of going into a mental breakdown when you hear Clark speaking again. Only this time, not through the phone.
"I'm guessing it wasn't good, huh?"
An overly joyed yelp leaves your mouth as you lunge yourself at him. Clark's strong arms wrapping around your body as you nuzzle yourself close to him. Your eyes close, letting his scent infiltrate your senses as you forget about the world for a second.
"You couldn't even imagine," you groan, placing your hand on his chest.
"Good thing I have something planned for us," Clark smiles, placing a gentle hand on the back of your head before you pull your head away from his shoulder. "I'll take you back to your dorm, okay? I have DVDs in the truck, take-out, weighted blankets—everything. It'll be fun."
You look at him confusedly, "Sounds like the perfect night-in, Clark, don't you have classes tomorrow?"
"Well…" he trails off, glancing at your lips before flicking back up to your eyes. "I may have a free day tomorrow."
"You're kidding."
"And, I asked Chloe for your schedule—looks like I'm not the only one with a free day tomorrow," Clark's tone held a tinge of teasing to it. His hand pinching the naked skin of your hip affectionately. "So, what d'you say? You up for a movie night with take-out?"
"That's like asking me to marry you, Clark," you pause, narrowing your eyes. "Of course, I would!"
Clark grins, pulling you in for a sweet and longing kiss in front of all the students walking in and out of the building.
Clark's own definition of a movie night and take-out date is simply you and him, underneath the weighted blankets, eating chow mein while your favorite comedy movie plays in your laptop.
You had pretty much the same definition as well, the only difference is that Chloe's in your definition.
"I can't believe you invited Chloe," Clark says, snaking his arms around your stomach, resting them on your belly button while you leaned back comfortably on his chest. "Wasn't she busy interning?" He takes a glance at Chloe at the other bed—focused on the movie, busy eating a dumpling.
You crane your neck to look at him, meeting his eyes despite the lack of light in the room. "Clark, Chloe was the only reason I got up on time today. It's the least I could do after practically zombie-ing around the dorm.
Clark sighs, rolling his eyes as he went back to watching the movie.
You shifted quietly in your position, scooting up just a little bit so you could rest your head on his shoulder, the rest of your body nestled in between his legs. Clark clenches his jaw, moving his hands to rest on top of yours.
"You sure she doesn't have things to attend to?" Clark asks, still keeping his voice low as to not disturb a focused Chloe.
"Clark, I'm sure. She wouldn't agree to this if she had things to do, obviously," you reply back sassily, voice just as quiet.
Clark inhales sharply, thinking of a way he can continue his original plan now that there's one more extra character. A light bulb pops in his head, prompting him to lean down to your ear, his nose bumping with the shell of your ear.
Clark only notices now how engrossed you've gotten with the movie when you don't even move. The subtle crease in your forehead giving it away.
He removes one hand from yours, trailing it just an inch lower from your belly button before he begins to rub soft circles on the flesh. Clark kept his eyes glued on the wall, eyebrow arching ever so slightly the moment he felt your stomach tense.
"I've already asked Chloe if we could spend the night, though," Clark whispers in your ear. His neck stretched in a way that he can still watch the movie while keeping himself close to the open space by your neck.
You spare him a glance, a quick one that barely even lasted a second. "Clark, watch the movie."
Clark clenches his jaw, this time because of the way your body rubs on his lower region. Again. Like you didn't even notice his hand tightening its hold on yours, or the way blood starts rushing into his cock the more you keep the warmth of your back on it, completely unaware.
He inhales, licking his lips before pressing it softly on the side of your neck. "Fine."
You thought that'd be the end of it, that Clark would finally let the subject go and actually watch the movie with you. However, you quickly realized that he had other plans the moment you feel his free hand play with the garters of your pajama.
You swallow on nothing—clenching on nothing, trying to keep your breathing calm and steady as you did your best to focus on the movie.
"Clark, what're you doing?" You try to move your hands but the hold Clark had on it kept you from doing so. His other hand—the one by your pajamas—slipped underneath the fabric.
His eyebrows shoot up in sheer surprise when his hand is met with the soft skin of your pussy, bare and naked, seemingly waiting for him all this time.
"You're not wearing panties," Clark says, not as a question, but as an observation. The amusement evident in his tone as he keeps himself from chuckling loud enough for other ears to hear. "You planned this, didn't you?"
You ignore him, doing your best to focus on the movie despite his hand descending lower and lower.
He swipes a finger through your slit, smiling contentedly as the answer to his prior question comes in the form of your wetness. His eyes focus on the way your features twitched with the subtlest of movements, how your breathing slowly changes into labored breaths, and how your heart starts thumping even louder.
Clark pulls his hand out of your pants carefully, watching the way your shoulders relax as he did so. You keep yourself calm, still trying your best to wriggle out of his one-hand grip that's restricting you from using your hands.
"Can't believe you told me to focus on the movie when you didn't even bother wearing panties…" his voice drops, the deeper timbre of his voice has you squirming in place. "Are you giving me mixed signals or what?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," you say through gritted teeth. Never moving your eyes away from the projector.
Clark chuckles softly, licking the shell of your ear before he moves his hand underneath your pants. He wastes no time searching for your clit, rubbing soft circles on it the moment he does. "I think you do, baby."
You melt into his touch involuntarily. The pleasure he's giving you with just two fingers on your clit was enough to have you mewling like a cat in heat.
He lifts his fingers from your clit, sliding them down your slit once more to gather the wetness seeping from your hole. He moves back up, slathering it on your clit messily, this time rubbing figure 8s.
"Looks like you really got some stress in you, sweetheart," Clark says, picking up the pace while you drop your head weakly, his legs moving to rest on top of yours, keeping you wide and open for him. You look up at him, locking into his eyes when he smirks at you. "Let's take some of it off of your shoulders, yeah?"
The coil in your stomach tightens, lips falling open as quiet moans left your lips. Quiet enough that Clark only heard it through his superhuman hearing.
You turn your head to Chloe’s direction, watching her watch the movie in utter silence. Completely unaware of the absolute filth going on between two of her best friends.
Your eyes squeeze shut when you feel yourself release all of a sudden. The pleasure coming onto you in one strong wave, not even a warning before it snaps. Clark helps you ride it out as he slows down, whispering sweet nothings in your ear while leaving kisses on your neck.
Clark smiles proudly. Gathering your release from your hole before slipping his hand out of your pajamas and into his mouth. Your eyes round as you watch him suck it hard and hungrily, as if making sure to remember the taste of your sweet release until he gets his next fill.
"You're welcome," Clark whispers, releasing your hands from his grip.
Just as you opened your mouth to respond, Chloe lets out a loud groan, her bed creaking loudly. Both you and Clark turns your heads to the projector, noticing how the movie had gone static.
"Sorry guys, give me a sec, I'll fix it." Chloe, who had suggested the idea of a projector, felt burdened to fix the situation.
The exact second Chloe turns her back to the two of you, Clark's pulling you up, strong hands lifting you like you were nothing. You shake your head continuously at him, eyes widen and clearly nervous. Clark simply grins at you, contradicting your head shakes with a nod.
"It'll be fun." Was the only thing he says before he quickly moves up your bed. Once more reminding you of his superhuman speed as he has you on top of his hips, cock resting on your cunt, blanket covering both of you—all in record time.
Chloe turns around with a smile, one that says she successfully fixed the projector. You two return the gesture, though for very different reasons.
When the movie began again, picking up from where it left off, Clark's back to having his way with you.
"I already gave you one release, baby. This next one, you're gonna have to cooperate with me—so tell me, what do you want me to do?" Clark's heavy cock twitches in between your pussy lips, aching to be inside of you.
You sigh, the arousal clouding your brain. "Whatever you want, Clark, just…" he lifts his cock before letting it fall back down. The sound of it colliding with your cunt easily drowned out by the movie. You bite your lips, continuing, "Just make me fucking come, please."
A liquid substance then drips on top of your cunt, sliding down onto his length as it left a cooling sensation everywhere. You look to Clark with a question, while he only smiles at you reassuringly.
"I may have snatched a few things from your drawer."
Then, you feel his cock push into you. The liquid he poured a moment ago letting him slip through your walls with ease.
You gasp, hand slapping on your mouth to stop the sound from going into unwanted ears.
"Clark," you struggle to get out. "You're… It's so big."
Clark chuckles, shushing you with a kiss. "I know I am, baby. But you can take it, right?"
"Yes." You say breathlessly.
"Good girl," he thrusts up carefully, hearing your soft moans from underneath the hand on your mouth. "Because this is the only thing you're gonna get from me tonight. After all, it was you that wanted to invite Chloe, right?"
When you nod, head dizzy with his cock inside of you, with his fingers continuing their attacks on your clit, Clark already knows he's gotten you exactly where he wants you⎯underneath the covers.
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