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ekingston · 4 months ago

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also on ao3.

Lena smiles to herself as she watches Kara zip through National City’s most exclusive luxury mall. She’s like a honey-drunk bumblebee, bouncing from aisle to aisle, descending on some random item every five seconds just to mutter hmm and dart off again.

Lena is moving at a more civilized pace. She has long since stopped trying to keep up, both with her best friend’s not-quite-incriminating measure of super speed and her unfathomable decision-making process.

“Lena help,” Kara pouts, suddenly back, familiar and warm at Lena’s side. “Do fifteen-year-olds like anything?”

Lena doesn’t take her eyes off the art books she’s been perusing, but she also doesn’t stop herself from leaning in, her shoulder resting briefly against Kara’s, their hips grazing. A friendly gesture. A welcome back. “You remember Ruby, right?” she teases. “Cute? Bright? Probably six feet tall by next Wednesday?”

Kara huffs. “Yes, but she's—you know. Cool now.” She makes a gesture that’s somewhere between jazz hands and a bomb exploding. “What do cool teenagers like?”

Lena sends her a self-deprecating smile. “Do consider who it is you’re asking.”

Kara’s gaze tumbles from Lena’s face to her chest to her hands, and then she nods. Lena feels like she should be insulted by Kara’s quick acquiescence, but all thought leaves her mind when Kara steps closer, reaching across Lena’s body to play with the head of a fat round brush. Lena watches the fine bristles spread wide around the pads of Kara’s ring and middle finger, and tells herself that she isn’t affected by the situation at all.

“You know,” she breezes, veering away from the wisp of Kara’s breath against her temple, “Ruby’s been sketching a lot more, lately.”

Kara, immediately revived, follows Lena over to a glass case marked with Holbein’s logo. But when she glances up at the price tags, she goes pale. “Seven hundred dollars?” she yelps. “For colored pencils?”

Lena hums. “They’re pastels,” she explains, flipping the case open with a pleasing wood-on-metal snick. “High-grade pigments, no fillers.” She runs her fingers down a length of cobalt blue, watching Kara’s throat bob when she reaches the gold lettering along its side. “I hear they lay down incredibly soft,” Lena hears herself say, her voice low in the narrow space left between them. “Rich and easy. Just a hint of pressure is enough to achieve whatever effect you desire.”

Kara looks up, her glossy pink lips now inches away from Lena’s own. “Since when do you know about art materials?” she rasps.

Lena breaks into a light sweat at the question. “Well, you know,” she stammers, straightening. “It’s. No secret that I’m a patron—” She gestures helplessly, trying to step away again but finding herself trapped between the display case and Kara’s body. “That I—I’ve always had a thing—”

Kara’s eyebrows twitch as she waits for Lena to finally finish a sentence, a smile tugging at one corner of her mouth when Lena fails to do so. Her amusement at Lena’s floundering should embarrass her, but combined with the close heat of Kara’s body and her cocky smirk, Lena finds it alarmingly arousing.

“I have literally never heard you talk about art before,” Kara smarms. “Oh wait! Actually I specifically remember you canceling on Bruce Wayne’s charity gala when you realized he was having it at the Museum of Modern Arts, two years ago.”

“Kara—” She’s still so close. Lena is beginning to feel a little lightheaded.

“You were already in Gotham,” Kara points out.

“Listen,” Lena flusters. “I am a well-rounded—”

Kara’s eyes are dark and sparkling. “You were his date.”

“...I was his friend,” Lena corrects. “Bruce and I were never—not like—” She gestures between Kara’s body and her own, the movement greatly inhibited by their closeness, and ceasing entirely when she realizes where her argument is headed.

Kara bites down on what Lena is sure would otherwise be a maddeningly self-satisfied grin. “My birthday’s coming up, too,” Kara says. And then, her voice gentle, “But you already knew that, didn't you?”

Lena huffs out a breath. Of course she knows that. Kara is her best friend. It’s completely natural that Lena would spend night after sleepless night poring over catalogues and browsing the dark web, trying to find her the perfect gift.

“You got me these?” Kara grins, picking up a viridian green pencil and twirling it between two of her fingers. She looks so pretty and pleased that Lena nods, instantly resolved to trash the one-of-a-kind mini-anti-life-equation she’d managed to place the winning bid on, and gift Kara Holbein’s entire collection, as originally intended.

Kara still hasn’t moved. “Lena,” she says. “You know you didn’t need to spend all that money on me.”

Lena huffs out a humorless laugh. If Kara thinks the pencils are pricey, ditching the anti-life-equation is definitely the right call. It’s a shame—apparently it’s super effective against fruit flies and fungus gnats, both of which Kara has been unsuccessfully battling in her kitchen for the past couple of months. “You know me,” Lena says, something bitter twisting at the corners of her mouth. “Always going overboard.”

“No,” Kara tells her. The surety of her tone draws Lena’s gaze back up to those ludicrously blue eyes. “I do know you,” Kara says. “And you always get it exactly right.”

The silence that ensues stretches taut between them, stretches thin, fraying Lena’s nerves along with it. She should get Kara some canvases too, Lena decides. In fact, why not make it a set? Add some new brushes, and oil paints, maybe a new easel—oh!

“Mechanical erasers,” she blurts, and darts away.

Kara isn’t quite as quick on the uptake this time, taking long seconds to rejoin her on the other side of the aisle.

“Not like what?” Kara asks.

Lena blinks at her, puzzled by the non-sequitur. Kara’s eyebrows twitch together again, but this time they stay there, a tiny divot in the skin between them. Lena doesn’t know what to do with—well, any of it, quite frankly. “Since the secret’s out,” she says, pointedly looking away from the curious expression on her best friend’s face and gesturing at the collection of erasers, “do you prefer the—”

The feeling of Kara’s hand at her waist is highly unlikely and profoundly baffling. But when Lena looks down, trailing off, there it is; Kara’s thumb, settling against Lena's hip bone, her fingers sliding—sure and steady—into the gap of Lena’s open coat.

“You said you and Bruce were not like you and me,” Kara says. “What are we like?”

Lena’s heart is slamming in her chest like Kara is playing tennis with it. She’s so frustrated that Kara won’t just let it slide and allow Lena to escape with her pride intact; she’s so enamored with the way Kara looks at her, open and curious, as if she honestly doesn’t know what Lena is trying her best not to say for fear it will ruin their friendship.

The situation is so impossible that Lena doesn’t register the movement of Kara’s other hand until she’s slipped it around the back of her neck. It rests there—joining the other in its exploration of formerly firmly out-of-the-way places—with just the barest hint of pressure, her fingertips settling warm against the vulnerable skin of Lena’s nape.

Lena flusters, suddenly forced to address Kara’s question in a far more certain shade than she’s allowed them both to get away with over the years. If Lena opts for “the kind of friends I thought I’d never have”—a bitter, but familiar favorite—will Kara still help her blend the outline between the soft tones of their friendship and the vivid hues of what Lena is pretty certain is their mutual desire?

She swallows, watching the quick flash of Kara’s tongue as she wets her lip, reveling in the sight of it up close, struggling to maintain her solid form beneath the feeling of Kara’s hands on her body.

“There’s…” Kara whispers, swaying closer, “...probably a couple of things we really should talk about.” Her nose brushes Lena’s cheek before resting there, her eyes falling closed, their foreheads just barely touching. “But do you think it would be okay if—just for now—” She’s muttering the words almost directly into Lena’s mouth. “If I kissed you, first? Before, I mean, the rest of—”

Lena tugs herself up by the lapels of Kara’s jacket before Kara even finishes her question, the darkness behind her closed eyelids sparking into bright technicolor at the soft press of Kara’s lips against her own. They’re warm, and yielding, and slightly sticky—probably from the fresh-baked cinnamon roll she’d scarfed down before entering the store. Just before they pull apart, Lena catches the slightest hint of sweetness with the tip of her tongue.

Lena hums.

Kara is right. They really should be talking about this, and not necking in the middle of Eulalia Literature & Arts like a couple of boarding school kids on a school trip. But Kara is looking at her as if Lena is a wonderful secret freshly revealed, so Lena really can’t be expected to keep herself from being pulled back into Kara’s orbit. Can’t be blamed, even, for doing it lips-parted, so eager for another taste of what feels like the one bright spark of undiluted joy she’s ever felt she actually deserved that she shamelessly licks into Kara’s mouth, her entire body lighting up in oversaturated iridescence when Kara meets her with similarly unselfconscious sincerity.

Kara doesn’t let her go, even when they pause for air, both of her hands twitching against Lena’s body, as if keeping herself from pulling Lena back in is a tremendous effort. “Can we just stay here for a minute?” she hushes, her breath mingling with Lena’s own.

Lena smiles. “I think the security guard may have a couple of things to say about that,” she tells Kara, flashing an embarrassed glance over her shoulder at the woman in question.

“Oh, shoot.” Kara flinches, flushing an irresistible shade of pink Lena doubts even Holbein’s pigments could emulate. She rarely wears her glasses anymore, but Lena watches her reach for them out of habit, her movements jittery and raw.

“It’s alright, darling,” Lena soothes her, thrilling privately at the endearment as it falls off her lips. “I’m sure all will be forgiven when the cashier runs my credit card.”

And she’s right; when they exit, the guard gives them a nod that may even signal some mild approval. Whether that’s about the fortune Lena just spent on art supplies or their impromptu public exhibit, Lena isn’t sure.

Later, after weeks of conversations, after numerous tiny discoveries and world-shattering revelations—one of which has Kara confessing to once helping a fifth-dimensional imp create a half-dozen miserable alternate realities in which the full, vibrant spectrum of their love for each other went unacknowledged, and never led to a kiss—Kara blows out thirty-one colorful candles, and unwraps first (in the company of all of their friends) her gifts; and then (in the company of only her lover) Lena’s wrap-around A-line dress.

Lena’s legs are already trembling when Kara finally glides her fingers to the seam of her thigh, the pad of her thumb nudging gently at the patch of darkening cotton between Lena’s legs. “Could I try something new?” she asks, and Lena, who has discovered that Kara’s ideas only ever fall into one of two categories, one being complete absurdity and the other unmitigated brilliance, sighs.

“I want to paint you,” Kara says.

It so figures, Lena thinks. All of these new toys, and Kara can't decide which one she wants to play with first.

“Okay,” Lena says, driven to impatient acquiescence by Kara’s thumb, now moving in gentle, tiny circles against her.

“Okay?” Kara confirms, hand stilling, sitting up.

Lena clasps Kara’s teasing fingers and presses them down hard where she needs them, her back arching into the touch of their joined hands. “After,” she demands.

This was written for the multi fandom (and original!) flash fiction challenge, using the prompts ‘vignette/slice of life’, ‘shopping for a gift’, ‘friends to lovers’ and ‘colored pencils’. You should give it a whirl!

#i couldn't whittle this down from 1200 to 1000 words so i doubled it. 'cause i'm sane that way #alternative title: in which easter is a fucking tease because her word counts refuse to cooperate #supercorp fan fiction #fic by ekingston #art by ekingston #in this house we still celebrate supercorp sunday!#multi fandom (and original!) flash fiction challenge

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teastainedprose · 1 year ago

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Lap Cat

I blame @ghoulphile for this because of her reply that I stole and this ask she got. [A03 link]

“better behave yourself now, kitten. I thought we learned what happens when you use teeth.” 🔞 1,242 words | Pre-War, Post Divorce Cooper, Sometimes a lady just wants to be a good little kitten for Mr. Howard. Sorta. (established relationship, kitten pet name OBVIOUSLY, light fingering, light oral sex)

It's a lazy sort of afternoon where the warm sunlight and humidity leaves you languid. Mellow and sluggish. Being well fucked will do that to a gal. You're sore in all the right places and utterly content to sprawl out on the couch beside Cooper.

The TV drones on, a distant buzz to your ears as you let your consciousness slip in and out. You're comfortable, settled on the couch with Cooper's thigh as a pillow and an arm flung over his lap. He's reclining back, casually puffing on a cigarette as he watches the TV. You don't know that he's watching your serene expression just as often as the screen.

His other hand relocates every now and then as Cooper smokes. First at your shoulder with his thumb idly rubbing under the sleeve of your dress. Then swooping down the curve of your side to repeat the same languid stroke at your thigh. Occasionally he'll let fingers wander to tease down the soft flesh of your thighs or give your ass a playful squeeze as you murmur and burrow closer.

You don't dip fully into sleep until Cooper starts playing with your hair, fingers combing through it while his even breathing lulls you. It's soothing, being nestled against the warmth of him while Cooper pets you. His scent envelopes you fully from where your head rests, every breath making sure your senses are full of him. The faint smell of horses, leather, stale smoke, and the woodland scent that's uniquely him. It makes you nuzzle your face against his thigh affectionately, seeking more of his scent.

You blink, time skipping ahead in an instant as you look up. There's his cigarette in the ashtray, stumped out before you glance up to catch his eyes. "There she is," He rumbles with lips turned up in a smile.

"Mhhm? Did I fall asleep? Sorry." A sigh escapes you as you rub your cheek against his lap, having scooted closer in your sleep.

"Not long. Only a few minutes, sweetheart." The hand that had been motionless on your thigh squeezes. There's a telltale twitch against your cheek.

That brings a wicked smile to your lips as you turn your head, nuzzling more insistently at the fly of his jeans. Cooper inhales sharply, palm skimming up your thigh to slide under your dress as he takes up a handful of your ass.

"Now, now. Quit your squirmin' before I make you do something about that."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Mr. Howard." You grin, shifting to turn wide innocent eyes up to him while stretching out. Which in turn presses the swell of one ass cheek further into his palm. You sigh mid-stretch, letting your nails dig into the fabric of his jeans before easing yourself back down across the couch and his lap. As content as a cat.

"Mhm, brat." Cooper's chuckle is a low rumble in his chest that vibrates down to you. There's a moment of consideration, his fingers flexing into the fat of your backside before he smiles indulgently down at you. He shifts his free hand off the arm of the couch to press the knuckle of his pointer finger insistently between your lips.

You part your lips willingly as he twists his finger, pressing down on your tongue. You promptly clamp teeth about his knuckle with a tiny growl. Defiance flashes in your eyes as you turn your head minutely to catch his eye.

“Better behave yourself now, kitten," He tuts, a stern expression settling on his face. "I thought we learned what happens when you use teeth.” There's a certain tone creeping into Cooper's voice that sends an electric jolt of arousal through you. It's the sort of tone that unconsciously pulls compliance out of you.

He smirks as you relax your jaw and promptly curl your tongue about his finger, sucking diligently as commanded.

"There's my good girl," He croons while stroking the curve of your ass.

At the praise, your eyes roll back in pleasure before squeezing them shut, squirming eagerly against him. Cooper's palm slides silently under your panties to cup your sex. He hums his approval, middle finger tapping against slick folds.

"So eager for me, ain'tcha kitten?" Cooper rasps out as he takes you in contently sucking on his finger. He continues to tease between your legs with his other hand, middle finger pressing insistently between slick folds. The honey brown and deep forest green of his eyes darken as he watches every reaction he pulls from you.

You can only moan about the fingers in your mouth in response, fisting up as much of his jeans as you can. He slides another digit between your lips and presses harshly down on your tongue. Automatically, you swallow about his fingers while taking care not to bite out of reflex. A disgruntled sound escapes you all the same. There are better things to have your lips wrapped around.

As if to reward you for the lack of teeth, he presses his middle finger between your folds while spreading them wider with ring and index finger. That index finger teases at your entrance, ghosting over but never slipping in. You huff about his fingers, hips canting to press into his palm only for Cooper to pull back. You need more. Either Cooper needs to start rubbing at your clit or sliding fingers inside of you. Even better if he'd let you crawl atop his lap and ride him properly.

He clicks his tongue as you clamp teeth about his fingers in clear frustration, promptly moving his hand from between your legs. He gives your ass a parting pat as you glower, his fingers still pressing insistently against your tongue until you release your teeth.

"Frustrated, baby?" He croons down to you. "Want something else in your mouth?"

Pulling his fingers from your mouth with a sudden pop, Cooper wastes no time as he unbuttons his pants to free his already straining erection. In moments his cock is bobbing mere inches from your face.

Biting your bottom lip, you lean closer as one hand comes to wrap fingers around the base of his shaft. It gets his cock twitching as Cooper huffs.

"Kitten, you're gonna need to take care o' this before you get anything else. You can do that for me, can't ya?" He drops a hand to stroke over your hair, nudging your face closer.

You're all but purring in excitement. You're over eager as you pop the head of his cock into your mouth, tongue pressing against the crown to taste him. It earns you a groan out of Cooper as he drops her head back. His cock twitches between your lips as pre-cum dribbles freely against your tongue. The taste is bitter salt on your tastebuds, but it makes you moan in pleasure all the same as you lap it up. That gains you a second groan out of Cooper, fingers digging into your hair briefly. Your eyes roll up to meet his as you smirk about his cock like the wicked little creature you are.

"Mind the teeth now." He murmurs, hand sliding into your hair to guide your mouth further down his cock. "How 'bout you show me how good you can be? Earn that reward, sweetheart."

What exactly your reward will end up being is a mystery, but you're eager to earn it all the same.

#Cooper Howard x Reader #the ghoul x reader #Pre-war Cooper Howard #fallout fic #x reader #x you #pure self-indulgence #..cause I'm a nibbler #sucking finger is for DOGS #cats BITE #CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP #woman with a cat avatar is into pet play? SHOCKING I know #actually I'm not LMAO #the gif not loading fully makes it look like he's sneezing LMAO

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