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#omg omg omg i finished a fic omg omg omg
iindigoeyed · 11 months
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saw this dress and purse and i KNEW i had to draw this, it's so her!!
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devondespresso · 10 months
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barista!eddie drawing a pentagram or whatever with the table cleaner while closing and accidentally summoning demon!steve, who's absolutely stoked to see a cozy little coffee shop for the first time
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thevirtualvalentine · 4 months
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TAPE SIX : DOWNWARD DOG !
Starring… ‘Black Leg’ Sanji 📸
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SET SCRIPT : “ooo what about sanji and yoga?”
MATURE WARNING(S) : smut, unprotected vaginal sex, dom!reader, mirror sex, yoga teacher!reader, student!sanji, handjobs, cunnilings, semi public sex, fingering, flirting, pervy!sanji, cum eating, femme!reader, minor cum play, “miss” used as a title, reverse cowgirl.
DIRECTORS CUT : for my first tumblr mutual @sanjisjuul !!!! I had to deliver the best for the ceo of Sanji. I got off that vc and started cooking in my drafts, I thought you’d enjoy the fic going in this direction. 🤭
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Sanji did not really know what to expect using his “1 free session of yoga” ticket that zoro ended up gifting him for his birthday (long story). At the very least he was hoping he wouldn’t be there alone. However, of course fate casts its cruel hand and he’s the only one there in the studio.
Occasionally, his anxieties will get the best of him. He began frantically pacing the floors like a mad man and sees you walk in, his entire mood does an immediate 180. Just a second ago he swore he would destroy Zoro, now here he was singing his blessings in fine tune.
“Here all by yourself handsome?” you say smiling while walking through the studio doors to set down your belongings. One thing you adored was teaching beginners how to practice yoga, but it is very rare to have a male student. Especially one this handsome.
To be fair, for all his womanizing it’s rare that Sanji is shown the same energy back. The second your sultry voice slipped past your plump limps and called him handsome, he thought he was going to start hyperventilating or maybe salivating on the spot. You are the most beautiful woman he thinks he’s ever seen in his life, bountiful curls tied up in a silk scarf, a matching set that accentuates your undertones, and a set of eyes that pierce straight through his heart.
If Cupid shot him, he wouldn’t mind one bit. “Is it really just me in here?” He asks turning around the room to see if anyone had appeared from thin air within the last second.
“Don’t be scared, I don’t bite hun,” a shiver runs down his spine, “I’m y/n, your yoga instructor for today, just gonna be me and you so let’s try our best!” You clap your hands in excitement as you queue up some music.
Sanji will try his upmost best to not freak you out with his habit of love bombing and undying adoration for the mere ground you walk on, but only if you knew what he was thinking, ‘A beautiful babe and so radiant, goodness you could be the sun itself… a perfect goddess here before my very own eyes. Thank you stupid moss ball, but only this once.’
As you begin to work with Sanji, you quickly realize he’s excelling at all the physical parts of yoga, just not the mental ones. So, while he may be able to hit the cleanest triangle pose you’ve seen a beginner do due to sheer flexibility, he can’t seem to relax or concentrate at all.
“Deeper breaths Sanji, relax for me honey.” Well, he can’t when you say things like that to him. He is pleased to know you can’t tell it’s a furious blush overtaking his face because he can blame it on exercise and perspiration.
“I—,” your place your hand on top of his diagram, squatting down so you’re eye level with him, “can’t..” the weight of your palm makes his heart rate sky rocket
“Let’s try something different then, yeah?” How could he deny you when you ask so nicely with a pretty smile? He nods, waiting for further instructions. Sanji is an excellent student, what a good listener.
“Kay, I want you to sit on the floor in front of the mirror. Try to breathe in, and out deeply.” You motion for him to follow you to the mats, sitting down behind him as he tries to find his centering.
You curve your body behind him like a puzzle piece, ‘helping’ him by placing your hands on him once more. “Mhm, yes. Just like that.” He’s supposed to be watching himself in the mirror, practicing his breath, not watching your hands essentially grope him. Fuck. He’s going to get hard, he can already feel the blood rushing there with the help of your hot breath on the back of his neck.
You keep talking him through it, pretending not to notice the unruly state you’re leaving him in. He shudders continuously, unable to regulate his bodily functions when your hands begin to trail down his abdomen.
“I can help you relax better y’know, just ask,” your teeth graze the shell of his eat and he can’t help himself from begging for your sweet beautiful mercy.
Sanji is a big man, but he utterly trembles in your hold. His hard cock out in broad daylight as you stroke him for anyone to see if they walked into the studio by chance. You have him practically sitting in your lap with his legs spread wide open, pumping his cock in your hand as you turn his head to kiss you sloppily. He’s panting into each kiss, barely making the timing because he can’t stop moaning like a whore.
“Fu—fuckfuckfuck, ngh— wait slower slower,” he chokes out, his balls feel heavier knowing you’re watching his every twitch and whine in the mirror. You are beautiful but oh so cruel and he loves it.
“Slower? Didn’t you just say you wanted me to go faster? You don’t seem to be very smart Sanji,” you continue to pump him up and down as he feels his orgasm rearing its head already, he hasn’t gotten to feel you, he can’t cum yet.
The way you tut your head to belittle him makes Sanji want to squeal out in mind-numbing pleasure, it was just so perfect. “I’ll cum!! D-don’t wanna,” he pathetically whines.
You decide you’ll reward him for his honesty, slowing your hand to bite the sensitive skin of his neck. “Then switch places with me,” you offer, letting your eyes meet in the mirror. The pad of your thumb swirls over his oozing tip waiting for an answer.
If it wasn’t for the fact he was catching his breath, evident from the steep rise and fall of his chest, Sanji would have already been behind you. “Yes, pl..please.”
He helps strip your shirt over your head, massaging your breasts lightly and twirling your dark nipples between practiced fingers. You sigh into his touch, letting your head rest against his shoulder, “I like it hard and fast, can you do that for me Sanji? I wanna make sure it’ll all fit,” you pur.
“Fuck me,” he whispers under his breath, he’s still leaking. Yet he’s no where near as drenched as you are when he slides your panties down your legs.
Pools of it running down your ass crack, he coats his fingers in the white translucent substance. “Help yourself,” you tell him, eyeing the way he plays with it between his fingers. He spreads its before sticking it back together. What a perv.
He almost gags himself trying to taste it all, desperate for the sweetness. He plunges his fingers into your sopping cunt, sticking one knuckle deep while testing the waters. He prods around trying to see what you like, when he finds the one that makes you tighten around him, he smiles; adding in another lithe digit.
You’re leaning against him for support as he works up his pace, pounding his fingers into you like clockwork. Once he starts he can’t stop the inertia, feeling his muscles burn in his bicep and forearm.
But it’s worth it, all worth it when he hears your guttural whines and praises. Your pussy rewards him with even more slick that he stops himself to taste, gorging himself on it. “Let me taste it please, I have to taste the real thing, miss please,” oh and he begs so sweetly.
With a nod he scrambles around to wrap his arms around your thighs, strapping himself to your cunt. His tongue is hot and heavy on your lower lips, lapping at anything he can. “Augg-ahhh Sanji! Oh my god,” you can feel your eyes roll back into your skull as you prop yourself up on your elbows for some stability.
But he doesn’t stop, exploring further, pressing his appendage at your entrance. The smooth ring of muscle no match for his hunger as his tongue guts through you. “It fe—fuck—els so good, don’t stop!” If anyone else needed to come by the studio you’re sure it would sound like murder with the way he was killing that cat, no mercy.
He’ll scissors his digits, press his greedy fingers against your gummy soft walls while sucking your clit. Then maybe prod at that spot that makes you go limp. He’s just so excited he is getting to make you feel good he didn’t even realize he was also moaning. You were just so addicting, he felt at peace.
He stops when he realizes you came all over his face, coating him in the residue that he begins to lick up like an obediently trained mutt. You’re gripping his scalp with your nails to stop him from overwhelming you as he hisses. The sight of him below your mound is enthralling, so you drag his face in your cunt to work off the aftershocks. Grinding into his plush pink tongue.
You decide you’ll mount him reverse cowgirl on your feet (with help of course), he holds your hip as you find balance. You feel him start to stretch your entrance, welcoming the painful burn. He’s long and skinny, hitting a spot inside you that has you saying, “oh fuck,” as you try to take more of him.
You watch yourself in the mirror, his inches disappearing behind your pussy lips, form crumpled over trying to selfishly fit him all inside.
But you keep going, needy to hear more of what you could pull out of Sanji. Bounce by bounce you pick up the pace, swallowing his cock with each clap of your ass.
The view was unreal, your thick curls beginning to fall down your back as you worked up a sweat. Titties bouncing up and down as you rock back n’ forth on your feet. “More! More! Please, need it so bad miss!” His hands help piston you on top of him, wanting to lend you whatever support you might need from him. He’s just hoping you can’t see the way his toes curl from how tight and wet you are.
You place your hands behind you on his chest for even more balance, the new angle making you feel even fuller than before. You both felt on fire, your hot breaths began to fog up the mirror as you made love on the floor.
Sanji, desperate to feel you even deeper, thrusts up to match your pace. It makes his cock drag just right on your clit and the pressure begins to build again in your stomach. It’s not like he’s much better though, a blubbering mess underneath you even if you can’t see his face, the desperation of his hips is evident enough.
A few moments later you’re both a sweaty and convulsing mess on top of each other as he makes you cum harder than before. It knocks the wind out of you as you shake in pleasure. Sanji is left whimpering underneath you, unable to pull out.
“So, same time next week?” You ask.
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Enjoy? Reblog & click to see event masterlist!
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feinv · 3 months
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drooling over the idea of John Wick taking you out for dinner in the early stages of your relationship and you’re confused as to why everyone seems so afraid of him…. and he’s not even scary, you just know him as this soft, romantic, tall guy.. he laughs it off when the waiter trembles and drops the menus but seeing everyone so scared of him is sooo hot 😵😵😵 definitely makes you a little wary of him too but he has no plans of letting that come between you two hehehe
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there is something about dangerous men with soft spot for you that makes me act like a damn dawg.
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you knew perfect men only existed in fairy tales. anyone who was ever close to being perfect had something wicked in them, and so did your john.
he always looked so sinful in his full black suit, tall, jet black hair slicked back, his dark eyes brooding as his baritone voice could make people stiffen in an instant. you weren’t stupid, there was definitely something evilly wrong with him. but that was just how he looked. he was the sweetest man to you, always acting like a gentleman and treating you with nothing less than respect. and he was extremely funny and intelligent too! that is precisely what made him even more attractive to you: his mysterious aura and conflicting outer and inner natures.
he invited you to dinner for the first time, and here you were in a fancy restaurant, having a pleasant conversation with the man in front of you who had his whole attention forwarded to your direction. but you just couldn’t ignore all the other glances too.
everyone around the two of you acted so…weird? anxious, or perhaps scared. even the poor waiter started stuttering when taking the order from him, accidentally dropping the menus from his hand when he was about to leave.
john dryly laughed it off when you mentioned it, explaining how the guy must have been nervous serving his first clients or something, but you didn’t miss out the sinister sparkle behind his gaze before he looked back at you with his warm and loving brown eyes.
he excused himself for a moment, and you could feel and see how everyone just exhaled a huge sigh, relaxing for a bit. you obviously knew nothing of john’s profession, he muttered something about businesses once and never talked about it again, not that you were interested anyway. you figured he must have been one of those CEOs who everyone wanted to have a partnership with, someone who could easily overpower them if they acted wrong.
overpower them john could, you just didn’t know how.
his special treatment towards you was enough to put aside all your worries and confusions, because you were his either way, despite the presence of something morally wrong with him. but you indulged in it as much as he did, if not more ;)
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kuwdora · 5 months
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@perseruna I LISTENED!! I MANIFESTED!!
the lion, the witch, and the audacity of this bitch geralt/jaskier/yennefer ~6k, explicit. d/s, sexual roleplay, banter, erotic massage. more tags on ao3.
Trouble is afoot and it will be a long evening for the White Knight.
The White Knight has been in the Queen’s service for more than half his life. He currently stands beside her royal majesty in the throne room, bearing witness to the thorn in the Queen’s side. A thorn he will be called upon to remove.
Whether he was pushing miscreants from the kingdom with his blade, doling out punishments on behalf of the Queen, or sating her majesty’s sexual desires, the White Knight fulfilled his responsibilities every day of his life. However such consistency was not common in all of the Queen's loyal subjects.
This spy in particular, a faun with broad shoulders and a nervous smile, a tufted little goatee and soft, folded ears. He has a penchant for distracting the castle guards with jovial questions about their favorite snacks. He has often derailed the White Knight's retinue from their duties with gossip from the latest winter festival.
Mr. Tammus had come into the Queen’s service only a few short years ago. The White Knight had been on assignment looking for allies to enlist to the Queen’s service. He’d ventured into the western mountains, seeking the brawn of a clan of minotaurs. It was there that he discovered Mr. Tammus beguiling the clan leader and her grandfather with a musical jig. Mr. Tammus had accidentally broken a curse that had fouled their young with human-features. Mr. Tammus could have asked for anything from the grateful clan but instead requested only shelter and their undivided attention while he performed his latest song.
Upon witnessing Mr. Tammus’ charm on the minotaurs firsthand, the White Knight knew the faun would prove useful for the Queen’s service.
Tammus indeed proved to be a valuable asset with eyes and ears in the community and borderlands, able to strike up friendships all due to his cherub-like face and penchant for outlandish tales that could enchant anyone with ears. He found secrets and gossip in the unlikeliest of places that was useful to the Queen and her royal guard.
Yet there are times where the faun’s flightiness has tested the Queen's patience.
Which is why Mr. Tammus is currently on his knees and bowing, snowmelt slipping from his hair onto the floor. read on ao3
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labyrinthhofmymind · 5 months
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utterly invested in only the brave….. i only have a couple of chapters to go and idk how this is all gonna be wrapped up by then
I’M IMPATIENTLY WAITING FOR REGULUS TO TAKE EVERYONE DOWN, DORCAS TO GET HIM GOOD AGAIN, AND THEN JEGULUS REUNITE AND EVERYONE BE HAPPY 😚
also wolfstar is this is soooooo good i love them i love them i love them i love them
ALSO DORCAS MY QUEEN!!!! SHE’S CARRYING!!!!! SO IS LILY!!!!!
@solmussa you icon 🫶🫶🫶🫶
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useramor · 1 year
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only took 47.5k
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wikiangela · 6 months
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tease tidbit tuesday
tagged by @bidisasterbuckdiaz 💖
me impatiently waiting for tuesday to share a snippet bc im obsessed with bucktommy rn and after some editing im loving everything i've written in this fic so far and wanna share every word of it asap lmao
here's a bit more, and yes they are talking about the evan thing bc at first it bothered me so much, but it grew on me (with fics and some takes on it i saw and just the more i saw it and thought about it) and now im kinda loving it lol
prev snippet
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“If you wanted me out of my shirt, you should’ve just said so.” he murmurs.
“I want you out of your shirt.” Buck says without hesitation, and Tommy releases a breathless, surprised laugh.
“Suddenly so forward.” he shakes his head, capturing Buck’s lips again. Well, Buck has been kind of shy and flustered with Tommy, but that’s not always how he is, not how he used to be.
“Oh, you have no idea.” Buck grins, and then, still a little hesitantly, places his palm over Tommy’s thigh where it rests over Buck’s knee. Tommy looks at him curiously, and Buck’s grin widens as he pulls his leg up and over his lap, getting Tommy to properly straddle him now, his shirt falling over his back again, as he releases a surprised gasp. “Now that’s better.” he adds, getting used to the unfamiliar weight, Tommy being bigger and heavier than Buck’s used to with his previous partners, obviously, but it- it feels good, right, almost comforting, Tommy’s steady and firm presence surrounding him now. Plus, it is kinda hot, too.
“Evan.” Tommy just says breathlessly, and Buck’s smile softens, one of his hands moving to the side of Tommy’s neck, just resting there.
“You know you’re one of the very few people who call me that?” he whispers, the mood shifting a bit from hot and impatient to soft and warm, and pleasant, and Buck really feels so comfortable with Tommy.
“Yeah, I noticed.” Tommy replies, settling more comfortably, wrapping his arms around Buck’s neck loosely, but his hands play with Buck’s hair lightly. He sits far enough on Buck’s lap that their crotches don’t touch, and Buck’s not sure if he’s happy about that. “Does it bother you?” he asks with a hint of worry.
“No, no, of course not.” Buck rushes to say. If it did, he’d say something. No, it doesn’t bother him. The opposite, in fact. “I actually-” he can’t help a small awed smile. “I think I like it.”
“Why do you sound so surprised?” Tommy tilts his head curiously, and he’s so cute, and Buck needs to kiss him. So he does. Because he can. And he can’t stop smiling.
___
no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @neverevan @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @exhuastedpigeon @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherbuckley @buddieswhvre @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples @daffi-990 @fortheloveofbuddie @hoodie-buck @tizniz @your-catfish-friend @hippolotamus
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anthonysdemo · 1 year
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jegumarylily? bet you didn’t expect that one
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Cashton @ The 5SOS Show Tour - 21 August 2023
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sboochi · 2 years
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*mwah!*
(based on an illustration by Al Parker)
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eatyourmaker · 2 months
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*waves* pls take this comic version of your fanfic (the confession scene) that i just started working on~ been meaning to show you appreciation thru an ask for a while now, i'm just rly shy 😅 i genuinely enjoy your blog and ideas so much, it's inspiring fr 🥹
also very belated welcome back! ✨
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AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
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bicheetopuff · 2 months
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Happy birthday to this nerd i guess
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pippytmi · 1 year
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spy!au + meet messy + you never saw me ? If not that's fine, I just thought it would be cool. :)
spy!au + meet messy + you never saw me 
“So on a scale of 1-10, how much do we hate the fiancée?”
A wry laugh escapes before Kara can even try to quell it, and she briefly removes the unlit cigarette from her mouth to muse, “You know, I've heard a saying that goes ‘never judge a book by its cover.’ Fascinating stuff, I might have to send it to you.”
“Ugh. Journalists—so idealistic.” But Nia is grinning as she snags the barstool at Kara's right. “Where is the elusive Lena Luthor anyway? Do we finally get to meet her?”
Kara shrugs. “Beats me,” she says. “Last I heard, she was running late.”
“Late to her own engagement party? Finally, someone I can get along with,” Nia says. Before Kara can even get a word in, Nia's attention is immediately stolen by the bartender coming over. “Hey M’gann, can I get an amaretto sour?”
“Sure thing,” M’gann says absentmindedly, her gaze otherwise zeroing in firmly on Kara. “Danvers, you better not smoke in my bar.”
“I won't,” Kara swears, raising both hands in a show of innocence, and M'gann rolls her eyes.
“Journalists,” she echoes Nia's earlier sentiment, but with an entirely exasperated deeper meaning. “I'm putting Nia's drink on your tab.”
“Well in that case…” Nia twists around, already waving her hand as if to beckon someone over. “Make it two, Kara's buying a drink for the bride to be. Alex! Don't—I know you can see me, come here.”
For as much as Alex stressed the importance of everyone showing up tonight, she doesn't seem very…well, happy. And while Alex is not typically one to gush, Kara had expected at least a smidgen of joy on her sister's face, not the harried expression she's currently sporting.
“What?” Alex asks, eyes them both suspiciously while fidgeting as if she’d rather be anywhere else.
“Um, hello to you too,” Nia says. “Clearly, you need this. Where's your soon-to-be better half?”
Alex accepts the drink when Nia presses it in her hand but frowns, however slight, at the question. “She's—on her way,” she says, pausing to take a sip from her glass before her gaze falls on her sister. “Oh, gross, Kara. Since when do you smoke?”
“I don’t!” Kara pouts, feeling like a broken record. “Can’t I be edgy and have a cigarette to look cool?”
“That’s the most pretentious thing I’ve ever heard you say,” Nia says, delighted, while Alex just groans.
“Come on, Kara, not tonight. Just be normal for once in your life,” Alex sighs, already distractedly glancing back to the front door like she is willing her fiancée to just walk through any second.
“You guys don’t understand the intricacies of being a method actor,” Kara argues, waving her cigarette in the air to make her point. (And also, because it is kind of awkward to keep it in her mouth without doing anything with it, not that she’ll admit that). But it’s clear she only has half the audience she had a second ago; Alex is half a world away the second her phone starts to ring.
“I’ll be back,” Alex says, handing off her glass to Nia who is more than happy to finish it.
Kara dejectedly puts the cigarette back in her mouth. “I just realized something.”
“What?”
“I don’t actually know how to smoke. What if someone expects me to, like, smoke with them?”
Nia presses a fingertip to her chin and  ponders the question seriously. “Either you're screwed, or they will just think you're a dork. The reaction will depend on the person, really.”
Kara's shoulders slump. “So I won't be cool?”
“Journalists generally aren't cool,” Nia unhelpfully offers. “But I'm sure you could make it work for you. You'd be like…one of those grizzly story-seeking sleuth journalists.”
Kara groans, thumping her forehead on the bartop. “That seems more like a private investigator thing,” she says. “Darn it. I'm going to have to start from scratch.”
“I'm all in favor of quitting method acting for one night,” M'gann chimes in, still eyeing Kara's cigarette distastefully. “Now do you need a refill or are you going to fall asleep here?”
“Yeah, sure,” Kara says, lifting her head in order to sheepishly push her emptied club soda over. “Pour me a double.”
That joke never lands—M'gann just rolls her eyes and refills the glass, wiping her hands off before moving down to another patron. Nia scoots her stool closer to Kara once she's gone to reassuringly say,
“I like the pretentious cigarette. It makes you look like a hipster…they’re coming back into fashion, you know. Just like leg warmers.”
Kara wrinkles her nose. “I don’t think anyone really liked leg warmers.”
“That’s how I know you were unfashionable in high school,” Nia says. Then, apparently already bored with the topic at hand, she turns around in search of their former company. “Hey, where did Alex go? I haven’t even bought her a round of shots yet!”
“That’s a good question,” Kara says thoughtfully. “Maybe Lena showed up?” But when she swivels her chair to aid Nia’s search, she can't spot her sister either; considering Al’s Bar is a hole in the wall with not many patrons, that can only mean Alex has stepped out. “I'll go find her.”
All things considered, the night is pleasant—when Kara emerges without her jacket, the air isn't quite cool enough to make her go back in to retrieve it. She walks around the corner to the alley where everyone goes to smoke, but Alex isn’t there. Alex is also not in the 7-11 across the street, nor is she two doors down at the diner. (Kara orders a donut to go just to be 100% sure Alex won’t emerge from somewhere inside, of course, like a diligent sister).
Eventually, her pointless search leads her right back to Al’s. Nia has apparently had enough alcohol to drag Kelly to dance; Winn and James have begun a spirited game of pool; Querl has commandeered the jukebox and is studiously adding 80’s dance music to the queue. Alex, however, is still notably missing.
With a groan, Kara collapses at the bar again. “Can I get a water, M’gann?”
“You got it,” M’gann says, filling a fresh glass from the tap. She moves on immediately after to another customer, and Kara’s question about whether M’gann has seen Alex dies before it even forms. Kara sighs, takes a much-needed sip of her water, and resolves to just melt into her stool when all of a sudden she hears:
“Is this seat taken?”
It should be noted that, in the past, Kara has encountered situations far worse than this one. Moments where her life was in danger, even. She likes to think she has mastered the ability to remain unfazed in the face of the worst surprises at this point of her career.
But then again…she’s never actually met her sister’s fiancée before. And in a truly horrific turn of events, Kara ends up spit-taking all over her shoes.
“Oh crap, I am so sorry,” Kara says, making a mad grab for napkins off the bar and crouching down to pat at Lena’s heels. “Are you—okay, can I get, er, anything—” She doesn't even know how to apologize at this point, so tongue-tied she is just about to offer her own shoes off her feet.
Lena Luthor doesn't answer right away. She takes a delicate step down, and her hand covers Kara's in order to make her pause. When Kara musters the nerve to cautiously meet her eye, Lena gives her a small smile.
“It's fine.” Lena looks much more <i>vivid</i> than the photographs. Everything about her is sharp; the angles of her jaw, the eyeliner she wears, the intensity of her green eyes when they're trained on Kara. Even her voice edges on the sharper side, not quite cold but almost. “Kara, right? I recognize you from Alex's pictures.”
Kara barely remembers to nod. “Yes, I…recognize you too,” she says. “It's nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Lena draws her hand away immediately after, and Kara hastily rises up in order to put some space between them.
“Can I buy you a drink?” Kara asks quickly. “M'gann makes a great…sour.” She cannot for the life of her remember what it is that Nia ordered, and from the strange look on Lena’s face, she has 100% gotten the name wrong. “I don’t really drink.”
Somehow, that awkward confession makes Lena’s face twist, like she is trying not to smile. “Alex mentioned you’re sober,” she says. “I hope it’s alright, that she did.”
“No, yeah, it’s not a secret,” Kara says, but in her mind she’s thinking Alex and Lena talk about her? About what? Hopefully not embarrassing stuff. Shoot, knowing Alex, it’s 100% embarrassing stuff. “And I wouldn’t expect you to have any secrets with Alex either way, so.”
“Right.” Lena takes a careful seat besides Kara, her expression since gone entirely blank. She orders a scotch, Kara sticks to water, and they immediately maintain an awkward silence that M'gann raises a judgmental eyebrow at Kara for.
Kara clears her throat, desperate for any attempt of making nice she can muster. “So have you seen Alex?” she says.
“Today?” Lena has her glass raised to her lips, but she doesn't drink. “Not yet.”
“Oh. Well, I'm sure she's around here somewhere,” Kara says, and tries not to find it weird that Lena and Alex did not see each other at all today despite apparently living together.
This time Lena takes a long, thoughtful sip of her drink, and she turns her head to regard Kara silently. “Kara,” she says, as if testing the name all-too-carefully, practiced and halting like she wants to call Kara literally anything else. “Would it be a fair assessment to assume you don't like me?”
Kara’s grip on her glass falters in a single blink-or-miss-it second before she manages to control her surprise. “What?” she says weakly. “I know we don’t know each other, but, if Alex likes you of course I like you.” Flustered, she backtracks to say, “I mean Alex loves you. Obviously.”
Lena doesn’t put Kara out of her misery. At least, not right away. No, she just smooths out the imaginary wrinkles of her form-fitting dress that she has chosen to wear to this dive bar, drums her fingertips against the sticky wood of the bar counter, and gazes pensively beyond her company in a way that can only be described as lost. Then,
“I’m sorry. That wasn’t meant to be an accusation,” Lena says. “What I meant is, I'm sure you must despise the idea of me.” An attempt at a smile crosses Lena’s lips, but it’s a sad one. “Today was mostly about putting your mind at ease over any misconceptions you might have.”
“Well, I’ve only known about you for like a week, but I can honestly say I have zero thoughts about you,” Kara says quickly. Then frowns. “Wait. That was supposed to sound reassuring. Can I start over?”
The engagement ring on Lena’s finger shimmers even in the poor lighting, and she rests her cheek against her palm, gazing at Kara with a curious, half-amused kind of look in her eyes. “The floor’s yours.”
“I’m not the kind of person who assumes the worst about other people,” Kara says, reaching for her water again, if only to tip it towards Lena reassuringly before taking a quick sip. “And if you make Alex happy, then I can only assume you’re a good person. Also, you might be a saint to even put up with her.”
Lena’s mouth twists into a proper smile, however small. “The way you two talk about each other is so…” She shakes her head as if she can’t quite finish that thought. “You two are clearly very close.”
“Unfortunately, yeah, I'm stuck with her,” Kara quips, and that at least feels normal—talking about Alex is a safe topic. Even if she hasn’t bothered to come back to her own engagement party. “Do you have any siblings?”
“A brother.” Any semblance of a smile vanishes entirely at that, and Lena hastily finishes the remainder of her drink.
Kara gets the feeling she has said something horribly wrong. “And are you two also…close?” she finishes her train of thought awkwardly, even if she already knows the answer.
“No.” The stony way Lena clenches her jaw suggests that Kara isn't winning any brownie points, here, and she has to bite her tongue to stop from pushing on. “Excuse me, can I get another?” Lena beckons M’gann over when she has a second, and M’gann gives Kara another questioning look but doesn’t say anything to her directly.
“I’m sorry,” Kara feels the need to say. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“Oddly enough, I believe you,” Lena muses. “You did mention your sister has hardly talked about me.”
“I'm sure she would've,” Kara tries to reassure her. “I just don't see her too much nowadays, with my work.”
“Mm. You’re a journalist, right?” Lena asks, and there is something in her gaze that makes Kara feel hot under the collar. “Or was it a kindergarten teacher? I know you and your sister have an affinity for switching careers.” Something about the calculated way she pauses to take a sip of her drink, gaze expectant over the rim, causes Kara's heart to plummet into her stomach.
Kara, in turn, promptly chokes on air. “What? You—you know? About—” She stops. “I’m not sure Alex was allowed to tell you that.”
“Not even if we're going to get married?” Slowly, Lena begins to smile. It's a real smile, one Kara hadn't realized Lena was capable of until now. “Your sister might be the most by-the-book person I've ever met. Unfortunately for her, I was able to connect the dots about you myself.”
“Ah.” Kara drums her fingertips against the bar counter, feels her cheeks warm slightly with embarrassment.
Lena places a hand on Kara's forearm—a warm, gentle heat Kara can feel through the thin sleeve of her T-shirt. “That was no fault of yours,” she says reassuringly. “She slipped up talking about your job. It was fairly easy to connect the dots.”
Somehow, that does nothing to dissolve the dread slowly building up in Kara’s chest. Alex never slips up. Kara is the resident Danvers sister fuck up (Alex’s words exactly), and all at once Alex’s disappearance tonight becomes decidedly unsettling.
“When did she tell you about my job?” Kara blurts out. “Do you remember?”
“Yesterday, I think,” Lena says, and she regards Kara questioningly. “She was telling me about everyone who was going to be here today and what your friends do for work. Why?”
“Was she working? Looking at her computer or her phone or anything?”
“Yes, that’s all she ever does.” But it’s odd, the way Lena says it, like she’s not bothered in the slightest.
It could be nothing. It probably is nothing. But Kara still scans the bar with a renewed vigor in search of that familiar scowl that she cannot find. “She was just here,” Kara mutters aloud. “She wouldn’t have left without telling someone.”
“Alex?” Lena watches Kara carefully, no doubt trying to decide what to say. “Has she not told you if she’s running late?”
“No, she was here already,” Kara says. “I don’t think she would have—” She shakes her head to herself, cursing inwardly. She can’t assume that Alex has been dragged away for a work reason. Maybe it has something to do with Alex getting cold feet. Either way, telling her sister’s fiancée that the woman she’s supposed to marry has abandoned her engagement party doesn’t seem like it would do Alex any favors. “I’m sure she’s just in the bathroom or something. Uh, I’m going to just…” She pulls out her cigarette in a poor cover and says, “Go outside, for a smoke break, if you don’t mind?”
“Not at all,” Lena says. Then, “Would it be alright if I joined you?”
If Nia knew that Kara’s stupid cigarette would have led to this moment, she would laugh her ass off. Repeatedly. Kara supposes it’s a small mercy that Nia is still dancing with Kelly, so she is spared of any and all jokes at her expense.
It’s not until they’re outside that Kara sheepishly confesses: “So full disclosure…I don’t actually smoke.”
Lena doesn't look particularly surprised at the fact. “It's an odd thing to lie about,” she says, and tilts her head, surveying Kara with a sharp look. “Oh,” she says afterward. “I’m sorry. Clearly, you lied to get away from me, and here I am following you around.”
Kara swallows. Hard. “It’s not that,” she says, even though it kind of is. 
“It's okay.” Another touch, this time gently to Kara’s shoulder. Lena has a strange, half-wistful look on her face. “Take your break. I’ll go inside…I should introduce myself to Alex’s friends and keep it convincing.”
That is such a peculiar way to phrase an otherwise normal statement, and Kara feels her brow furrow subconsciously. “What?”
But Lena has turned away by the time Kara even forms the word, and Kara watches, bewildered, as Lena takes two steps forward before immediately whirling back around. There is no other way to describe it, but—Lena has gone sickly pale in the moonlight, as if she’s seen a ghost. Before Kara can ask what’s wrong, Lena has hurriedly bridged the gap between them and grasped Kara’s face with cold, shaking hands.
“Can you turn around?” Lena asks quietly.
Kara does, but she knows her cheeks have gone hot and red by now, so unaccustomed to both the proximity and the specific person before her. “Lena, what’s—”
“I have something very urgent to ask you, and please don’t overthink it,” Lena rushes to say.
“Okay.” Kara tries not to fidget; she has had a gun held to her head several times before and yet, this is the most overwhelmed she has felt in years.
“Can I kiss you?” 
Kara blinks. “What?”
“Please,” Lena adds on, as if that makes the question any saner.
And maybe it’s the desperation in Lena’s voice, in her eyes, in the way she keeps on trembling, but Kara recognizes someone in danger. She doesn’t understand what on Earth is going on, but she slowly nods, and trusts that if Alex kicks her ass later it will be for a good cause.
(Kara is not, however, prepared for Lena to immediately kiss her like she’s starving, hands still tight against Kara’s cheeks, dragging Kara so close that Kara is essentially caging her against the wall). 
It feels like forever, but not in a bad way. Kara hasn't kissed someone in so long that she feels clumsy, almost like she is outside of her own skin, hands falling against the gravel of the bar’s outside walls in order to stop herself from grabbing at the inviting curves of Lena’s waist.
When Lena gently pushes her away, Kara hastily steps back, digging her fingernails into the palms of her hands to keep from doing something dangerous (like reaching back in). Lena looks as if she's calmed down enough at least; she blushes when she meets Kara’s eyes, glancing down at the floor for a brief moment.
“Thank you,” Lena says. “God, if I was recognized out here of all places Alex would have lost it.”
“Recognized?” Kara echoes. She follows the way Lena jerks her head to the right, where the shadow of a man is disappearing into the alleyway. “I…don't follow.”
“That man used to work for my brother,” Lena sighs. “I don’t know if he would have remembered my face, but better safe than sorry.”
Kara opens her mouth, pauses, and then shuts it when she realizes she has no clue what to say. Her phone buzzes in an all-too-welcome distraction, but her blood runs cold when she sees it’s from Alex.
SENTINEL:
Can you tell everyone the party’s cancelled? Lena’s sick. Also let the cat back in before the night’s over.
“Shit,” Kara involuntarily curses when she sees that familiar code phrase. Suddenly everything makes sense: the secrecy, the mysterious brother, the fact that Lena cannot be recognized in the streets outside of a dive bar used as a front for the average spy (or average drunk that security allows in for the cover). “Lena, are you in witness protection?”
Lena squints at Kara like she is the one dropping a bombshell. “Yes? Did you not know that?”
“No! What the—why would Alex bring you here?!” Kara frantically texts her insane sister back.
SUPERGIRL:
Is there a curfew?
SENTINEL:
The sooner the better. I’m at Dad’s house right now or else I would do it myself.
That next coded message makes Kara exhale, finally, to at least know Alex is safe. Something big must have happened if she is dragging Kara into this without so much as a briefing, sure, but Kara also knows that Alex would not have trusted her with anything less.
“Lena,” Kara says, “can I ask you something urgent now?” She pauses when she immediately remembers the firm pressure of Lena’s lips, and quickly adds, “It doesn’t involve kissing.”
“Fair enough,” Lena says, enough amusement coloring her tone that Kara briefly flushes all over again.
“Can you trust me to get you home tonight?” Kara doesn’t wait for an answer before she goes on: “I know you don’t know me. But you know Alex. And I swear on my life, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for Alex, and by extension that means there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
Lena nods along with every word slowly. “You take your job very seriously.”
“I do,” Kara says firmly. (And, hopefully, comfortingly).
“Then I trust you, Kara Danvers,” Lena says. “If that’s even your real name.”
And for a brief moment, Kara’s not a spy fighting a clock on a mission she knows nothing about; she is, instead, a normal person who is capable of seeing the humor of her almost-sister-in-law who definitely knows more than she has clearance for.
“It is,” Kara says—even deigns to smile before she can quell it. “By choice.”
“That sounds like there’s a story somewhere.”
“I’ll tell you all about it sometime,” Kara promises. “Maybe even tonight, if in exchange you tell me your real name.”
“Unfortunately, Lena Luthor is my real name,” Lena says. “Alex said it was fine to tell her friends, so, this party was her idea. She even came up with the marriage idea so when my last name is changed, no one will care.”
The cogs finally start turning in Kara’s head far slower than she cares to admit. “Hold on. So you and Alex aren’t actually engaged?”
Again, Lena stares at Kara like she’s grown two heads in the last thirty seconds. “No. You seriously didn’t know? I thought you were just being weird, Alex says you get really into your method-acting stuff.”
“No.” Strangely, the first thing Kara feels is relief; she doesn’t have to actually tell her sister that she kissed her future wife. The second thing is, quite reasonably, alarm. “Okay I don’t know what the hell is going on with your case, but you mentioned someone who used to work for your brother, right? How bad is the threat?”
Lena hesitates. “It’s…kind of a long story.”
“So really bad,” Kara fills in the blanks. “Crap. We need to go.” She quickly shrugs off her jacket and presses it into Lena’s hands. “Put this on. There are no cameras in this area, but we’re going to hit some when we get to the parking lot.” 
“Is everything okay?” Lena asks, though she hurriedly does as Kara says.
“I’m sure it is,” Kara tries to assure her. “But it’s just a precaution until we can reunite you with Alex and confirm.”
Lena doesn’t seem like she believes Kara entirely—or at least, the way her expression remains a fraction confused definitely indicates as much. But at the very least, she does not argue, though she does make a point to ask, “Where is Alex?”
“She just got tied up at work.” Kara leads the way to the parking lot, careful to hover at Lena’s side on the off chance any threat might  materialize. “I don’t know where your current safe house is or if it’s been compromised, so I’m going to take you somewhere else. Is that okay?”
“Not like I have any choice,” Lena says wearily. “So am I not allowed to know when everything’s gone to shit? Or will everyone just keep telling me it’s okay when it’s not?”
Kara swings open the passenger side of James’s car (he’ll forgive her for this later) and waits for Lena to sit down. Lena doesn’t. “It’s—complicated,” she says.
“How so?” Lena crosses her arms and still does not move. Kara is still holding onto the car door, inadvertently standing too close; she feels strangely helpless when Lena looks right at her with eyes dark and determined.
“Full disclosure,” Kara reluctantly admits, “I…have no clue what’s going on with your case. I’ve been in the dark and Alex can't exactly  share the details through a text, so, the truth is I have no idea if everything has gone to shit. I know that is the very last thing you want to hear since I’m supposed to be protecting you, but—”
“Actually,” Lena says, and her look has softened, “that makes me trust you.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I appreciate that you will tell me upfront you don't know,” Lena says. She sways slightly closer, enough that Kara stiffens, but it's only to duck into the car after all.
Kara shuts the door only after a very brief pause. This should not be as hard as it feels. For a week she has been associating the idea of Lena Luthor as her sister’s fiancée and it’s tough to wrap her head around the fact that the opposite is true.
(And it has absolutely nothing to do with how attractive Lena is. Or that kiss. For the record.)
The dashboard of James’s car reads 7:19 PM; his radio is playing a news station; the gas tank is half full. Kara makes note of everything and decides she will drive as far as she possibly can before it hits empty.
Lena is quiet, at first. And while there is nothing special about the bumper-to-bumper traffic or the hazy street lights or the clouded night sky, Lena keeps her gaze trained outwards, head resting against the tinted window.
But then, “My brother killed twenty people.”
Kara grips onto the wheel and tries not to outwardly react. She has, of course, always had a terrible poker face. “Oh.”
“It gets worse,” Lena says uneasily. “I designed the technology he used to kill them.”
There is no possible response Kara can imagine which might be appropriate. In the end she settles for: “That actually doesn’t seem like a long story after all.”
“I assumed Alex would have told you that, at least.” Lena begins to drum a pattern with her fingertips against the center console. “Do you think the worst of me now?”
“I guess that depends,” Kara says slowly, “on whether you designed that technology for the purpose of killing people.”
Lena gives a curt, kind of disbelieving half-laugh, half-scoff. “They were nanobots,” she says. “I was trying to use them to cure cancer. But my brother…well, he didn’t see half the potential I did.”
Kara casts a quick glance at Lena, finds her staring straight ahead with a stony expression on her face. “Lena,” she says gently, “that doesn’t sound like it was at all your fault.”
“Everyone tells me that.” More rhythmic drumming, each beat more hesitant than the last. “I don’t know when I’ll start to believe it.”
When she was a kid, Kara had been thrown into the foster system with little more than heartache and a wish to find the cousin she never would. She had never felt so helpless—so unsure—and something about Lena’s guilt right now brings her right back to that moment. Like she’s just a little kid, knees pulled up to her chest, waiting for a sign that would never come.
“It’ll be hard,” Kara says softly. It has begun to drizzle rain, and she mindlessly sets the wipers, watching them flick back and forth as they wait for the light to turn green. “But it will get easier. I promise.” 
“Odd thing to promise,” Lena notes, but Kara can feel her gaze burning against the side of her head, and Lena sounds…lighter, somehow. “Can I change the station?”
“Sure.” James will hate it, but Kara doesn’t mind. Lena chooses a jazz station that frequently breaks with static, and it’s by far the most peaceful hour-long drive Kara has had in a while. 
They pull up to the safe house when the clock reads 8:34 PM and the rain has petered out; the air feels damp and thick with residual humidity, but otherwise, the tranquility of the quiet gives Kara a good feeling. Lena has fallen asleep in the passenger’s side, and Kara softly nudges her awake.
“Here,” Kara says, handing her James’s emergency bag once they make their way up the house steps. “This should have a change of clothes. They’ll be too big, but better than your dress at least…if you’re hungry there will be granola bars in the pantry. We can’t risk ordering anything else right now, unfortunately.” She digs into her pocket for the batch of safe house keys she has on all times and locates the right one, pressing it surely into Lena’s hand. “Until we know for sure if I’ll be briefed on your case or not, just…assume you’re going to be moved tomorrow. Also, you never saw me. Like, officially.”
Lena wipes at her eyes with her palm, absentmindedly smearing her mascara. “You’re going to leave me here?” she says, hugging James’s bag to her chest.
“No, of course not. I’m going to be sitting in the car, out here,” Kara says. “I just mean like in general, you know, if I don’t end up getting briefed on your case it would be all kinds of not-allowed to be talking to you. So if anyone asks…”
“Ah,” Lena says, “right. I’ll just make up a cover story for my cover story.”
“Yeah, you know, we need to protect the bureaucracies and all that,” Kara says. “If I'm even using that word the right way.”
“And you're supposed to be a journalist?” Lena smiles ever-so-slightly. “Good thing you're decent at your day job.”
“Only decent?” Kara feels her own mouth twitch with the promise of her own smile. 
“I'd give you five stars on Yelp,” Lena says confidently, and Kara laughs, unable to stop herself from full-on grinning.
“Well if you need anything,” Kara says, and gestures over her shoulder to the car. “You know where I'll be.”
“Thank you.” Lena places a hand over Kara’s wrist, and just squeezes there briefly, her hand slightly cold but her touch overwhelmingly gentle. “Um. Would it be—would it be allowed to ask if you can stay with me inside, instead? I don't really want to be…alone.”
“That would make plausible deniability much harder to fake,” Kara tries to protest, but Lena is biting her lip and looking at Kara underneath mascara-smudged lashes and really, there is no other option but to cave. “…but I guess I could break a rule or two. Or twenty-seven.”
Lena smiles fully this time with obvious relief. “And here I thought I'd have to work harder to corrupt you.”
Kara pushes her glasses up her nose and says, “I’m a little concerned you were planning to corrupt me, but I mean. It’s one night.” She follows Lena inside when she opens the door, surveys the untouched room with a quick, satisfied glance. “Just as long as you don’t get me into trouble.”
“I’ll try my best not to,” Lena says, making a beeline for the couch to inspect James’s emergency bag; she pulls out an oversized T-shirt with an exhausted sigh. “Can you unzip me?” Already she’s pulling her hair off her shoulders, exposing the graceful slope of her neck, and Kara almost forgets to lock the door behind her.
“Y-yeah,” she stammers out, once again fiddling with the glasses that she doesn’t need, and she knows it right then and there: Lena Luthor will undoubtedly get her in trouble. And judging by the way Lena gazes so shyly at Kara over her shoulder, she knows it.
(But, well. In the grand scheme of things, Kara figures a little trouble never hurt anyone).
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candyriku · 6 months
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So I've been thinking way too much about my ice skating Soriku AU....
Pose based on this video, I've been watching ice skating videos every night for the last few weeks because I can't stop thinking about Sora and Riku skating together.
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magalidragon · 3 months
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hands of fate | chapter 5: i never saw you coming
WHAT!? I posted this!? Hee hee. It's all done, epilogue will be posted in a few days. ENJOY! (To anyone who still cares about this).
Olenna reached one of her hands across the desk and patted Dany's wrist, squeezing it gently. "My dear, you know what you need to do then. You need to figure out what you most want in life...do you want to be mourning your brother for the rest of it? Or will you realize that the man walking around with his heart is just that...a man? He's a man with his own feelings and his own brain. That didn't get transplanted." Not that she was aware of at least. She was confused. Thoughts tumbled and jumbled in her mind. Her soul seemed to be at war with itself, both sides screaming for dominance. The side that told her to go find him, to confront him, work through this as painful as it might be. Then there was the other side, the scared side, who was fearful of what might happen, who just wanted to burrow away and pretend none of this ever happened, go back to how it was before. At least that was familiar to her. Daenerys had never felt love, not truly. Just her brother and that was family, that was a brother who had to become a father to her. All the other men that had come before-- as few as there were-- not a single one was love. Until Jon. How could she love someone so much in so short a time?
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