#what i don’t get is why no one’s taken it out of the system yet? when i volunteered there i used to get given the dead stock list at least

[fingertipsmp3]

Not to be one of those people who complains but why are the two library books I reserved 3 weeks ago (as the first person in the queue mind you. And both of them are popular books with multiple copies available) still not ready

[donutz]

Yandere Catnap x female smiling critter cat reader

Request from Wattpad—! Here you go Shaymi999☆

You weren’t the only cat out of the smiling critters.

There was another one, Catnap. Though, you were very much like him.

You were barely any different from him! The only difference is that you were a girl(and maybe the color, it depends on what color you want to be).

You were quiet, sneaky, hid in the dark, interacted with others, but not so happily. Even if it looked like you hated being at Playtime co, it wasn’t that bad here.

Other than the abusive workers.

And Catnap stalking you.

You didn’t find it that creepy, but it did annoy you a little bit. Why couldn’t he just interact with you? Yet you caught him looking at you every time.

Cat instincts, that’s all. Y’know, maybe he wanted you gone because he wants to be the only cat critter.

You’ll just have to wait.

There would be times where you tried to talk to him, but he’d just walk away.

You don’t know why, he could at least just listen to you. Makes you feel a little sad.

Of course, somebody noticed. That was Dogday.

“Mew, you’ve been seeming kind of down these days, are you alright?”

“... Yea, it’s just that. Catnap’s been ignoring me. I try to talk to him, but he just walks away.”

Dogday furrowed his eyebrows a little, pretty disappointed in Catnap’s actions.

“Oh alright, I’ll try to talk about it with him..”

“Oh, thanks Dogday.”

After that, you caught Catnap right behind you staring at you. It happened quite often.

… At least he wasn’t hiding in the shadows.

.

.

.

But now, 10 years later, he’s always in the shadows.

And 10 years later, you’re here, roaming the halls just like Catnap. You wish you could check up on Dogday, but you can’t Catnap’s too possessive.

If you even tried to sneak around to talk to him, Dogday would be dead the next hour. Not from Catnap’s hands, but from the smaller critters' mouths.

You wish you could just see your best friend one last time.

But you can, just this one time. Why? So you could alert Dogday that his body will be taken over by the smaller critters.

The tinies were listening in of course, excited to finally get their fill.

Why does the only time you get to talk to him the time where you tell him how he dies? Sometimes you wished Catnap wasn’t so possessive. You feel as if he would trust Dogday but— apparently you were wrong.

“Oh.. I guess I’ll have to prepare for the future.”

You wish you could rub your head against his and tell him it’s okay. You wish you didn’t have to tell him the way he dies. You wish you could’ve just passed like the other critters.

What made you so special?

“...” You would’ve told him you’re sorry, but you know Catnap was watching. He would’ve told the smaller critters to make Dogday’s death more painful and slow.

You just want him to be put out of his misery. He could’ve just agreed with serving the prototype and he would’ve lived.

But that’s not the Dogday you know.

And apparently, the player arrived so you have to go.

Even if they were already dealing with the smaller demonic version of the Smiling Critters, Catnap was determined to kill them. Or, to hunt he says.

Catnap wants to kill the player, but wouldn’t mind you doing it instead.

Unfortunately, there were hiding spots in the play area. The place where there’s different colored blocks and random holes that the small ones come from.

You were looking for the player, and since you saw the hiding spots, you looked in them. After some time you finally spotted them.

You grabbed them and threw them on the ground. They used their grab pack and grabbed at your eye. You tried to stop them by grabbing their face, but the hand took your eye out of its place.

And for some reason that singular eye was heavily connected to the organs in your system.

The player scurried towards a possible exit in the place, and ran, leaving you to die by yourself.

Catnap thought you could handle it yourself. But you didn’t.

Not only did you being dead anger him even more. But he didn’t want to hunt anymore, he wanted to torture and kill that stupid player.

He loved you so much that he didn’t even give up your body to the Prototype. You weren’t just some toy, you were his love.

Thankfully, the Prototype accepted the fact Catnap wanted to keep you.

After that, every way Catnap planned just to spook the player, wasn’t just giving them a little scare anymore. It was supposed to terrify them. To make them feel threatened.

To make them scream whenever he came near them.

He even released his red gas to make them have horrific hallucinations.

He nearly killed them, but didn’t, he wanted them to go through the pain he experienced.

But no matter how much torture they went through, it will never make up for the death they caused.

It will never replace your death.

It will never make him as happy as he was when you made him happy.

[harryslittlefreakk]

after the storm

summary: y/n wakes up in her sworn enemies bed, with a city-wide storm keeping her trapped there. in the time that she’s stuck with harry, can they overcome their differences and build a friendship? 🫢🤷

warnings: smut (oral f receiving, unprotected unrealistic shower sex) some angst, typical enemies to lovers

wordcount: 6.6k

a/n: you guys who likes my lil graphic? its diy!! i’ve been slowly working on story for a long time now so i hope you all enjoy! 🤭

my masterlist is here 💓 love u all

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The headache pounding behind your eyes was the first thing you noticed that morning. Shortly followed by the realisation that you weren’t in your pyjamas, or your bed, and there was a man snoring next to you.

You didn’t even remember coming home with anyone, let alone someone who looked so attractive, albeit from the view you had of the back of his head. There was something familiar about the bedroom, though you couldn’t put your finger on what. The clothes folded on the dresser were the same as every other man’s, the lingering scent of woody aftershave new and yet so familiar. Perhaps it was the memory of whoever you’d met last night, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you knew this man.

You needed to explore, the leftover alcohol in your system urging you to get out of bed and figure out whose bed you’d woken up in.

It didn’t take much detective work, however, because as soon as you sat down on the toilet, the man in question barged into the bathroom. “Oh, morning.”

No way. No fucking way. “What are you doing here?”

“This is where I live.”

“Why am I here?”

“Why do you think?” he smirked.

Harry fucking Styles. Your sworn enemy, the worst man you’d ever met, the worst man you would ever meet. And you were wearing his clothes, after sleeping in his bed. Your skin itched just thinking about it.

“Fuck off,” you growled, throwing the toilet paper at his stupid, sleep-clouded face.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he laughed, staring down between your legs as he closed the bathroom door. All you could do was let out a hoarse scream. How had an innocent Friday night turned into this?

You looked yourself over in the mirror when you were done, Harry’s t-shirt hanging loose on your body. You kicked the door open, glaring at his reflection as you splashed water over your face. “How do I get to the station?”

He shoved his phone in front of you, a severe weather warning flashing up on the screen. Public transport was down, taxis and delivery drivers ground to a halt as the rain and hail pounded the pavements.

“Brilliant. I’ll walk then,” you sneered, barging past him. “Just wait it out,” Harry told you, running a hand through his hair.

“No, I can walk.” What did he not understand about this being the last place you’d ever choose to be?

“You can’t.”

“Watch me.”

Realistically, you knew you couldn’t make the 45 minute walk across town in this weather. You hadn’t even taken a coat out with you, and borrowing clothes off Harry just meant you’d either have to see him again, or hang on to his clothing. Neither was appealing to you at all at this moment in time. Still, you were prepared to risk hypothermia if it meant getting away. The idea of being trapped with anyone while deathly hungover was horrible, but with Harry it became your own personal hell.

He followed you to his bedroom, watching from the doorway as you shoved your belongings back into your tiny shoulder bag. “My fucking phones dead,” you groaned, throwing your head back.

“Just wait until the rain eases off. I’ll drive you to the station later.”

“I don’t want to be here, Harry. What do you not understand about that?” Just the way he was watching you was making your blood boil. You weren’t even an angry or spiteful person, but somehow Harry triggered some red hot rage that usually lay dormant deep inside of you.

He was opening and closing his mouth, scarily similar to a fish. One of the deep sea weirdo ones, with extra fins and holes for eyes. His eyebrows knitted together as he searched desperately inside his dim brain for something to say.

“We didn’t sleep together,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“We didn’t sleep together,” he repeated.

You froze, not quite sure how to respond. You hadn’t slept together. Half of you wanted to thank every God in existence, the other half wanted to punch Harry right in his smug face. “Then why the hell did you make me think we did?!”

He shrugged, tiny hints of regret showing on his face. If you were less pissed off right now, you’d consider this a miracle. “Was funny five minutes ago.”

You glared at him, incredulous. “You swear we didn’t?”

“Promise. Look, jus’ let me shower and then I’ll stay in here out of your way. Don’t even have to talk to me for the rest of the day.”

Finally, you nodded, resigned to your fate. “Fine.”

“There’s a charger next to the sofa,” he told you, slipping past you to grab some clean clothes from the dresser. “So you can tell your boyfriend you’re here.”

“Idiot,” you groaned as you walked away, slamming the door shut behind you.

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You hated to say it, but Harry’s apartment was actually nice. Much nicer than yours. You had no idea what he did for work, but it must have been something good if he could afford a place like this. There was a skylight over the sofa, practically putting you in a trance as you watched the rain drumming against the glass.

You’d been flopped on the beige sofa for what felt like years, your hangover slowly easing off but your current situation not getting any easier. Why, out of all the places you could’ve been stranded, did you end up here? You’d been racking your brains for hours, and as far as you could remember, Harry wasn’t even at the bar. If he had been, he would’ve come over. He’d stopped hanging around your group so much once you’d started bickering, he was irritatingly respectful of your space. But whenever you saw each other, neither of you could resist the temptation of a little sparring match to spice up the night.

You were so deep in thought that you hadn’t even noticed the lights turn off, the tv suddenly flicking to a black screen. It was the deep rumble of thunder that bought you crashing down to Earth, a tiny whimper slipping out when you heard it. Rain and hail were little more than an inconvenience, but you drew the line at a thunderstorm. You’d loved them when you were younger, glued to the windows with your dad as you watched the lightning illuminate the sky. But something changed one day, a new fear set in after a nightmare. You were sitting on top of a hill, a picnic laid out in front of you, when the clouds suddenly turned bright orange and lightning started striking the houses below you. You’d watched in horror as every strike set fire to the roofs, the entire neighbourhood going up in flames and getting closer and closer to you. Then you woke up in a cold sweat as the lightning came nearer, the next strike sure to take you out had you not bolted upright in bed.

“Harry,” you called out as loud as you could manage. You might not like him, but you’d rather have his company than sit through a thunderstorm alone.

When he trudged into the room, you were sitting upright on the sofa, the blanket pulled over your head. “What are y’doing?” he asked, yanking the blanket off of you. “Don’t like thunder,” you told him, squeezing your eyes shut as it boomed overhead again.

“Did the power go out?”

You nodded, watching from squinted eyes as Harry searched across the kitchen counters for something. He walked back over to you with a lighter, and started to light the candles scattered across the room. “Wanna watch something?” he asked you, pointing to his collection of dvds. “You pick,” you told him, too terrified to even comment on why he still owned dvds in 2024. You’d have to save that for later.

He picked one, pushing it into the tv’s dvd player before coming to sit beside you and setting it up. You glanced over at him, your current proximity making your heart race more than the thunder and lightning could ever. You had some sort of problem when it came to men acting as saviours. You were too into rom-coms, too romantic to not develop a sudden and unexplainable mini crush on your knight in shining armour. And clearly, now you had gone a little bit mental.

A clap of thunder shook the room again, and you smacked a hand down on Harry’s arm, your nails digging into the skin. “Harry,” you whimpered. He put his hand on top of yours, grounding you slightly. “It’s okay,” he smiled. “Did no one ever tell you it’s just God rearranging the furniture?”

You loosened your grip as the thunder passed, desperately trying to get a hold of yourself. “No. And besides, that doesn’t help. A reason for the loud noise doesn’t make the loud noise any less scary,” you told him, brows knitted as you looked between your hand and his face. He was about to shoot something back, but lightning illuminated the room, your expression changing quickly back to one of fear.

Harry threw himself down on the sofa behind you, tugging at the hem of your (his) t-shirt. “Come here,” he beckoned, pressing play on whatever dvd he’d chosen. “Why?”

“Because it’ll take your mind off the storm.”

“No.” He was holding out his arms to you. Clearly he’d had a funny turn and was expecting you to snuggle with him. Sleeping in the same bed against your free will was one thing, but actually choosing to cuddle with Harry was something you’d have to bring up with your therapist later. And yet, the offer was somehow tempting. But you couldn’t control your face, and somewhat-accidentally sent Harry a scathing look.

“Fine. Enjoy the storm then,” he grumbled, standing up to stalk back to his room. You stayed silent as he left, waiting until his bedroom door slammed shut to throw the blanket back over your head.

Only, a few minutes later he was back. You could feel his stare burning through the blanket, and he was standing there like a giant dork when you peeked out. “What if I’m scared and I need a hug?”, he asked.

You couldn’t help but laugh. You couldn’t deny Harry was funny, even when you were bickering and snapping back and forth, he’d always make you laugh. And that was more infuriating, because why are you laughing at his jokes when you’re supposed to be annoyed? “Fine. But only because you’re scared.”

You leaned back into his arms, and he was right. It was a welcome distraction. Instead of thinking about the storm and anticipating the next rumble of thunder, you were actually quite content. Although one thing was playing on your mind. “Harry, why do you have the notebook on dvd?”

You craned your neck to look back at him, shifting slightly in his arms so you could see his face. “S’my favourite,” he shrugged sheepishly. “And what time will your boyfriend be home?,” you mumbled, recoiling when he jabbed a pointed finger at the tip of your nose. “Quiet please,” he told you. You turned your attention back to the tv, settling back into Harry’s body.

He was comfortable. That was one more thing to add to your list of irritatingly good qualities about him. He was a good cuddler, caring, funny.. it seemed like that list was growing longer with each minute you spent with him. You pulled his arm tighter around you as thunder crashed overhead, softer this time. “Getting further away now,” Harry whispered, his thumb stroking the fabric of your shirt as if you’d laid this way a thousand times before.

Your eyes were growing heavy, your heart beating in time with each gentle movement of Harry’s thumb. You were too warm, too comfy.

And then a loud vibration practically shook the sofa under you. “Fuck. Sorry,” Harry said, darting to shut off his phone. You rubbed your eyes, still groggy and disorientated. Naps always made you feel all weird and out of sync. You turned around slowly to lay on your back, glancing up at Harry in your peripheral vision. “Missed the whole movie,” he told you, eyebrows raised as he nodded toward the tv. The power was back on, the lights bright against the layer of fog clouding your eyes. “Gonna call them back,” Harry murmured, holding up his phone as he climbed over you.

You were perched on the edge of the windowsill when Harry came back into the room, watching the raindrops drip down the glass. He went into his fancy little wine fridge, pulling out a bottle of red. He held it up to you, eyebrows raised as he silently asked if you wanted any. You nodded before turning your attention back to the rain. The thunderstorm had passed now, the skies finally beginning to lighten up despite the heavy rain. Harry came to join you with two big glasses, as if he’d poured as much wine as he could fit into them.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

Thinking back, you didn’t actually know where it all started. Harry was nice enough the first time you’d met, then somehow rude and arrogant the next. He was the cousin of one of your friends, and started to worm his way into your group when he moved to the area. He was harmless, but he knew he was a pretty boy. Every night out was spoiled by him lingering by the bar, flashing his dimpled grin at any girl who caught his eye. He’d buy her a drink, then leave hand in hand with her, always looking back to see if you’d noticed his exit. Everything he did made you roll your eyes, every glance at your legs when you wore a mini skirt, every time he tried to snake an arm around your shoulders as you laughed with the group.

“You’re arrogant.” Proven by the fact that only arrogant people would ask why they’re disliked.

“No one else has ever told me that.”

“Maybe they’re not as truthful as I am.”

He laughed at this, swilling the wine around his glass. You watched as it stained the sides red, the blood colour dimmed under the grey skies. “If I were that bad, y’wouldn’t be here.”

“I’m not here by choice.”

“No, I mean you wouldn’t have ended up here at all.”

“What do you mean?”

Harry’s eyes were squinted when he looked back at you, some kind of secrecy flashing across his pupils. “Let’s call a truce,” he told you, holding out his free hand for you to shake. “Just for however long this storm lasts, you have to play nice.”

“I am playing nice. You’re the one who played tricks on me.”

Harry sighed, running his hand through his hair when you didn’t reach out to take it. Your gaze was fixed on the window, seemingly uninterested in what Harry was trying to offer. Truthfully, a truce sounded nice to you. You were wasting so much energy on acting indifferent to him. But with the way he looked after you during the worst part of the storm, the way he held in the giggles you knew he wanted to let out as you cowered in fear of the thunder, you were scared you might actually end up liking him. The horror. The last thing you ever wanted to find out was that you’d wasted years hating him, mentally criticising his every move, just to find out he’s a good guy after all.

“Raindrop race,” he said suddenly.

“Hm?”

“We do a raindrop race,” his head nudged toward the window. “If I win, we call a truce. If you win, you decide if you want a truce or not.” Harry had his usual silly, toothy grin spreading across his cheeks. There was something annoyingly cute about his smile, the way his eyes crinkled and his dimples carved deep into the skin. “Fine,” you laughed.

“Okay, pick yours. This is mine,” he pointed to a tiny droplet near the top of the window. Your eyes gazed over the drops near Harry’s, before settling on one just to the right of his. After Harry yelled “go!”, you followed yours with a pointed finger, trailing down the surface of the window as you spurred your little raindrop on. You didn’t actually care who won, but you were far too competitive to let him win.

They were neck and neck, Harry’s tiny raindrop somehow collecting water from those around it to become almost the same size as yours, and surprisingly just as fast. There were little childlike giggles tumbling past his lips, his free hand balled into a fist as he cheered his raindrop on.

Yours took over suddenly, surging forward before it came to rest on the windowsill. You couldn’t hold in your laughter, watching Harry’s face fall in disbelief. “Looks like I get to decide our fate,” you teased, a smirk resting on your lips.

Harry chuckled, his eyes searching your face for any sign of what you might do. “Truce please,” he encouraged, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Fine. Since you asked so nicely,” you grinned, holding out a hand for him to shake. Harry took it, bowing his head to you before hopping off the windowsill and padding into the kitchen. “Last of our supplies,” he told you, holding up one final bottle of wine and a bag of crisps. “Best make it count then,” you laughed, downing the last sip left in your glass.

Harry went back to the sofa, and you trailed after him, plopping down on the corner. “Tell me something about you,” he said, throwing an arm over the back of the sofa. “I don’t know. You know me,” you shrugged, turning a little to face him. “Fine. What was your first impression of me?”

You shrugged again, gaze falling to the wine glass in your hands. “Thought you were funny. Seemed nice enough,” you told him. Harry laughed, a bitter kind of chuckle. “So where did it all go wrong?”

“Harry, even you have to admit that you were a douche.”

“How?”

“How?!” You couldn’t believe he was asking how. “You’d saunter around the bars, always scouting for which girl you’d take home next. You didn’t even greet me the next time you came out because you spotted a girl behind me.”

“Sounds like you’re jealous.”

You scoffed. “Not fucking jealous. It’s gross.”

He held up a hand, faux-stern expression on his face. “Truce! We have a truce. Don’t wanna break it already.” He had a point. You’d called a truce not even ten minutes ago, and you were already getting riled up again. “You started it,” you mumbled, always reduced to the mindset of a child when you bickered with Harry.

“Don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything,” he smirked, miming zipping his lips. You turned away from him, deciding it was better to sit in silence and try to calm down than risk getting into a full blown row with him when you couldn’t even leave.

After a while, Harry set his wine glass down on the coffee table, getting your attention. “You really don’t remember how you got here?” he asked.

“No, Harry.” Honestly, you didn’t. The last thing you could recall was stealing a cigarette from someone on the street outside the bar, and then a freaky flash forward to waking up next to Harry.

“I was walking past O’Connells and you were on the street alone. All your friends had left and you couldn’t get a taxi, they kept refusing you because you were drunk,” he started explaining, setting his near-empty wine glass down on the coffee table. You were finally paying full attention to him now, an ear turned towards the sound of his voice as if he was telling the most compelling story of all time. “I don’t know where you live, you kind of stopped making sense. So I brought you here,” he shrugged. “Sorry.”

You took a moment to fully digest his words, his kindness to you a tough pill to swallow. The tears that formed on your lower eyelashes were unstoppable, regret bubbling up through you. You’d been a dick the entire day, and while it was a little bit deserved after he made you think you’d slept with him, all he’d done since was show you kindness and care. “Don’t have to be sorry Harry. I’m sorry,” you whispered, pulling your glass up to try and hide the blush creeping up your cheeks. He placed a gentle hand on your knee, his touch warm on your bare legs. You hated wearing trousers indoors, a t-shirt, panties and socks the only way you were ever comfortable. Yet now you felt too exposed, too vulnerable in front of Harry. “It’s okay,” he told you, his tiny smile laced with tenderness. “Thank you,” you said, your voice soft and shaky. “For looking after me,” you finished, finally drawing your eyes up to meet Harry’s.

He moved a little closer, bringing his arms up to wrap you in a hug. Only as he started to embrace you, you felt something change in the air. The wine had made your brain fuzzy, your senses heightened and yet muddled. You were struck with an overwhelming desire to kiss Harry, to make it right between the two of you, and that’s what you did. You turned your head just a little, closing the distance between you tentatively, waiting to gage his reaction. But he pulled back quickly, his arms dropping limply into his lap.

“Oh God. I’m sorry,” you mumbled, scurrying across the room before you could do anything to embarrass yourself further. You leaned back against the breakfast bar, eyes fixed on the rain drumming against the window. All you could do was replay the way his lips peeled away from yours, the full body cringe making you want to curl up in a ball and scream.

You could feel Harry’s eyes on you, his gaze silently trailing across your body. You looked back at him, eyes meeting amongst the almost palpable energy clouding the air. And then he was striding over to you, wrapping a strong arm under your hips and lifting you onto the countertop. He paused for a minute, an unsatisfied yearning in his eyes. He reached out with a gentle hand, pushing some hairs from your face as the other snaked around your waist. And then his lips were on yours, slow at first as if trying to taste and explore you. But with every lick of his tongue the kiss deepened, his movements becoming more urgent and passionate. Harry’s hands were roaming across your body, trailing goosebumps over every curve. The heat was intoxicating, the burn almost physical as you wrapped an arm around Harry’s neck, drawing him closer to you.

Your legs were tight around his hips, pulling his centre close to your core. It was electric, so much being spoken through silent mouths. Every touch, every flick of his tongue had you melting into Harry, the walls you’d built up crashing down around you. “Should’ve done that a long time ago,” he drawled as he pulled away, running his thumb along your swollen, wine-stained bottom lip. You nodded in agreement, still dazed from the way he kissed.

He grabbed a hold of the hem of your t-shirt, eyes locked on yours as he waited for you to tell him to stop. When nothing came, he pulled it off of you, throwing it to the floor behind him. You watched the way his eyes darkened as they trailed over you, the goosebumps that dotted your skin disappearing under the heat of his gaze. “Want to know why I act that way with you?” Harry asked, still surveying the sight before him. He rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger when you didn’t respond, his free hand pulling your chin upwards to look him in the eye. You nodded again, totally silenced by the way he was looking at you. His lips found your collarbone, kissing and suckling at the skin. “Because,” he murmured against you, pausing to lick a warm circle around your nipple.

“I,” he suckled at the bud, teeth grazing your sensitive skin.

“Wanted,” he was moving lower now, one hand caressing your other breast as he licked down your ribcage.

“You.” He sunk down in front of you, mouth lingering right at the waistband of your panties, eyes fixed on yours. Your chest was heaving as he bought a hand up to it and pushed you back, the marble countertop cold against your skin.

You closed your eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of Harry’s gaze. His fingers traced slow circles on your stomach, igniting a heat inside of you that melted away any other feeling. You were totally powerless, totally at his mercy as he peeled off your panties, eyes never leaving your face.

“Couldn’t handle this sweet pussy not being mine,” Harry told you, voice husky as he ran a light finger through your glistening folds. His hot breath against your entrance had you squirming, his lips so close and yet not close enough. He was admiring you, almost salivating - until you suddenly snapped your legs shut. “I haven’t showered,” you whispered, suddenly hyper aware of how unclean you felt. “Don’t care,” Harry said, pushing a hand between your knees to open you up for him again. “Just means you’ll taste sweeter f’me,” he groaned, finally making contact with your pussy.

His thumb brushed over your clit, replaced instantly by his mouth. He suckled at it, the sudden sensation drawing an almost carnal moan out of you.

His tongue swirled around your entrance, collecting your juices on his tongue as he moaned into you. Your hands tangled themselves in his curls, the burn of your fingernails digging into his scalp only spurring him on. True to his word, he was licking and lapping at your folds as if they held the sweetest nectar.

You were dripping for him, dripping on him, the lower half of his face coated in your juices. It was the wine, you told yourself, and the forced closeness to him. Not him, not the fact that he was giving you the best head of your life.

“Waited so fucking long for this,” he murmured against your skin, moving to kiss and nibble around your inner thighs as his thumb rubbed over your clit. You were squirming under him, your legs heavy on his shoulders. “Yeah?” you panted, fingers pulling harshly on his hair as his mouth suddenly moved back to your pussy.

“All mine now though,” Harry smirked, his words vibrating into your centre. “All your- fuck,” you cried out, unable to control yourself as he slipped a finger into you, his tongue still working at your core. He added another, then another, filling you until you were bucking into his mouth. He found your g-spot with ease, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk as he watched you writhe and moan.

“I’m-” you started, cut off by a ripple of pleasure moving through you.

Harry released your clit from his mouth with a pop, his fingers unrelentingly thrusting into you as his mouth snaked up your body. “You’re what?” he grinned, his face only inches from yours.

“I’m gonna-”. This time Harry cut you off with another kiss, your juices warm on his tongue as it danced around your mouth. You wouldn’t pair pussy juices with red wine, but on Harry’s tongue they tasted heavenly.

He pulled away, eyes dark as he watched you squirm and buck under him. “Gotta say it for me,” Harry told you. You felt like you were buzzing, hot pleasure vibrating every part of your lower body. “I’m gonna come,” you cried out, the ball of heat in your core threatening to explode.

As soon as you said it, Harry’s lips crashed to your neck, suckling and biting at the soft skin. It was the final bit of stimulation you needed, your pussy clenching around his fingers as you finally reached your high. “Good girl,” he repeated, working you through your orgasm until your back collapsed down, flush to the countertop.

You were panting and heaving as Harry pulled you to sit up, hissing as the cold of the stone hit your clit. You wrapped an arm around his shoulders, your body threatening to crumble if you didn’t support yourself.

“Come on,” Harry whispered, lifting you up. He carried you over to the sofa, resting you on his lap as he sat down. “You okay?” he asked as you stayed silent, totally numbed by the strength of your orgasm. You just stared at the identical triplets of him in your vision, trying to focus on the real one before you. His eyes were raking over your features, your puffy fucked-out eyes and swollen wine tinted pout. Your cheeks were pinked up to match your lips, tiny beads of sweat on the bridge of your nose.

“Thanks,” you whispered, a tiny smile crinkling the corners of your eyes. “For the orgasm.”

“Anytime,” Harry laughed, running a hand up your back. “M’glad we’re friends now,” he told you, moving you over to sit next to him.

“Do you do that with all your friends?” you giggled, swatting at his thigh.

“Oh yeah. Welcome to the club,” he teased. You rolled your eyes, but the two of you settled into a comfortable silence.

“D’you want a shower?” Harry asked eventually, breaking the quiet. You turned back to face him, still dizzy as your eyes tried to focus on his face. “Desperately,” you groaned. “But I’m still a bit wobbly.”

Harry laughed, pushing your messy hair from your face. “M’gonna have one then,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before standing up.

You listened out for the sound of the shower turning on, but Harry’s footsteps had stopped just outside of his living room door. You looked over to him as he stood frozen in the doorway. “What was that asshole’s name?” he asked, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to remember.

“Who?”

“Your boyfriend.”

“Harry, seriously. I’m naked right now and you want to me to think about my ex?” You rolled your eyes at him.

He shrugged, “can’t remember his name.”

“Jamie. Why are you even talking about him?”

“Because you could’ve had this a long time ago if you hadn’t showed up with him.”

You grabbed one of the cushions, launching it in his direction. He strode over to you, picking you up and flinging you over his shoulder as you shrieked. His hand landed a heavy blow on your ass, raucous laughs blending together in the silence of the night.

Harry set you down in the bathroom, pushing the door shut behind you. “Throwing isn’t playing nice,” he tutted, leaning around the shower screen to turn it on. “So now you have to be punished.”

“Oooh,” you teased. “What’s my punishment, a shower? Or are you going to drown me?”

“Y’have to shower with me. While m’all sexy and naked.”

“That’s not a punishment,” you frowned, watching as he stepped under the water. Harry had always had a decent body, but he’d gotten pretty jacked up since you saw him last. If anything, showering with him was a reward.

“Mm, but you have to keep those hands off me, you horndog,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes, following him into the shower. He side stepped past you to let you under the water, trying his hardest to avoid your touch. “I’m not going to molest you,” you told him. “Going to have to touch once or twice since we’re in a tiny box.”

“Fine. Just no feeling me up,” he shrugged, mockingly shielding his cock from you.

“Was it worth it?” you asked Harry as you stepped away from the water, passing the soap to him. “Was what worth it?”

“All the fighting, all your jealousy,” you poked your tongue out at him. “Now you’ve finally got in my pants, was it worth it?”

Harry stepped up behind you, his warm breath against your neck sending a shiver down your spine. “How am I supposed to answer that, sweet girl?” he drawled, pulling you around to face him.

You stepped back, pressing yourself into the cold tiles. Harry stayed close to you, his wandering hands finding a home on your hips. “Can’t say it was the easiest chase, can’t say I really enjoyed it,” his fingertips were trailing up your body again, his thumb pushing past your parted lips. His face hardened at the sight, imagining something other than his digits between your pout. “Would do it all again though.”

You bit down on his thumb, grinning as he pulled it from between your lips with a yelp. “You don’t have to fight me for three years just to sleep with me Harry. Could always just ask,” you smirked, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“Is that right?”

You nodded, watching as his eyes moved over your face. “Or get down on your knees and beg me. Either works,” you shrugged. He chuckled, shaking his head at you.

Harry stayed silent as he lathered up the soap between his palms, hungry eyes fixed on you. “Turn around,” he finally told you, putting the beige bar back in the shower tray. He pulled you back into him, his length solid against your ass. His wandering hands finally put themselves to use, rubbing the soap across your body. He paused at your sternum before one hand wrapped around your throat, the other cupping the curve of your breast. Your breath caught, a tiny moan echoing around your mouth as he squeezed lightly, his cock twitching against your skin.

He took his hand from your breast, reaching between your bodies to push his cock between the tops of your thighs. His tip brushed your sensitive clit, your teeth clenching as electricity surged through you. “Can I please fuck your pretty little cunt?” Harry growled, using his free hand to wash the soap from your body. He was throbbing at your core, his cock likely painfully hard by now. “Please, Harry,” you whimpered.

He grunted at your neck, pushing your upper body forwards until his cock lined up with your entrance. He was nudging into you, your pussy dripping and ready to welcome his girth. You’d never needed more like this before, though you’d never felt as good as Harry had made you feel. He released his hold on your throat, one hand lowering to circle your clit as the other splayed across your lower belly, his fingertips digging into the plushy skin.

Your hips rut into his hand, a cry tumbling from your lips as the quick movement forced his girth into your tightness. Your already shaky legs could’ve buckled right there, your body barely able to hold itself up around Harry’s cock splitting you wide open. It took Harry by surprise too, a shaky moan echoing off the walls as he bottomed out inside of you, the extra lubrication from the water pushing him deep into your core. “Fucking hell,” he groaned, stilling as he caught his breath. “Y’okay?”

You moved a hand down to hold onto his wrist, silenced yet again by his cock. “More,” you whined, pussy throbbing as he started to fuck into you hard. You’d skipped the slow, figuring each other out sex. It was as if you already knew what the other needed. Harry was fucking you, his thick red tip tearing you apart as you both raced for another orgasm, each thrust sending you closer to Heaven. The steam and the sounds of the water pounding the shower floor clouds your mind, unable to feel anything except the fullness Harry’s cock gave you.

You were getting close, the burn in your core spreading down the tops of your thighs, before Harry suddenly pulled out. Just as you were about to question him, Harry spun you around. “Want to see your face when you cum f’me,” he panted, sliding one arm under you to lift you against the tiled wall. He slipped back into you with ease, the new angle forcing his cock into places you’d never even known you could feel so much pleasure in.

Your hand tugged at his wrist, pulling his fingers back up to your neck. Harry let out a dry chuckle, his fingers wrapping back around your throat with ease as he slammed into you.

He was a fucking vision. His wet curls hanging down into his eyes, the shine of the water on his tattooed body. Just the sight of him staring at you with those hungry eyes was enough to have you gasping and panting. “Harry, I’m-” you started, a loud moan cutting you off.

He picked up his pace, hips snapping into yours with the deafening slap of skin on skin. “Not yet,” Harry grunted. “Gonna cum w’me.”

Your walls were already tightening around his shaft, hips bucking into him uncontrollably. You bit down hard on your lower lip, nails digging half-moon shapes into the thick muscle of his shoulders. “I can’t,” you whimpered, throwing your head down onto him. “You can, and you will,” he told you, removing his hand from your throat and instead using it to pull your chin up to meet his eye.

You nodded, face contorting as you tried desperately to ignore the fire coursing through you. “Please, Harry,” you whined. Your walls were clamped around his girth, his thrusts losing their rhythm as he got closer. “Come,” he commanded, wrapping his free arm under you as his legs started to shake. You howled as you finally let go, the stars in your vision exploding like fireworks. The tiny shower cubicle was suddenly full of carnal moans and cries, Harry’s lips spitting out your name over and over and over again as he shot ribbons of white-hot come into you.

You stayed in that position for a few minutes, before Harry slowly let you down onto the floor. He held you up as your legs shook, a light hand brushing over the finger marks left on your throat.

“Are you still on birth control?”

“No. Should I not be holding my legs up right about now?” you asked, watching as his eyes went wide.

Harry pulled his arm from under you, ready to let you collapse on the floor in his panic. He screwed his face up tight, a quiet “fuck, fuck, fuck,” mumbled under his breath.

“Relax, I am. Sorry.” you told him, a tiny smirk playing on your lips. He reached out and pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, grinning as you yelped and smacked his hand away. “Serves you right, bastard.”

He re-washed between your legs quickly, a gentle hand washing away the remains of your juices pooled between your thighs. “Better?” he asked, reaching behind you to turn the water off. “Mhm, just need a good sleep now,” you told Harry. “Oh yes, need to go to bed and think about the beautiful friendship we’ve ruined,” he smirked, handing you a towel.

You dried yourself off before following him to the bedroom, pulling on the clean t-shirt Harry handed you. He was humming a silly tune as he ruffled his hair in the mirror, watching your reflection expectedly. “Used to annoy you when I hummed,” he said, climbing onto the bed to join you.

“Still annoys me plenty,” you told him, pulling the duvet over your legs as you settled back into the pillows. “Just too fucked out to care right now.”

part two ??

₊ ⊹ ₊ ✧ ・ 🍒・✧₊ ⊹ ₊

taglist: @sleutherclaw @slutforcoffein @harrysolaf @opheliaofficial07 @dragonslayersupremacy @nikkisimps @michellekstyles @im-an-overthinker @fangirl7060 @indierockgirrl @palmettogal508 @thereunion1d @hannah9921 @harryshotpocket @daphnesutton @tenaciousperfectionunknown @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @mema10 @annageeeezzzz @cicicavill7 @drewsephrry @tswiftsgf @ashleighsss @bikestyles @he6rtshaker @prettygurl-2009 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @teammom4 @chesthairrry @golden-hoax @lilfreakjez @swag13r @cursingatdaylight @s-h-e-l-b-e-e

[mywritersmind]

CAT PARENTS - LN

pt.1

summary : A kitten is all it takes to get two strangers in the same bed for the night. Lando likes how she doesn’t know him, Olivia likes the cat that he’s trying to take from her.

warnings: just lando, olivia, and juna being cute!

word count : 1541

⋆ ˚‧｡⋆

“Oh my god!” I practically scream when I see the cat on the side of the road.

“Oh shit!” Someone grabs the cat before I can even get close. I look up to see who just stole this beautiful creature from me and am a bit taken aback.

He’s not too tall, but quite cute. He's got curly hair that’s cut into a baby mullet and a gray t-shirt that shows off his arms that are holding the kitten.

He blinks at me, making me realize I've been staring for probably too long, “That’s my cat.” I say quickly.

“Oh?” Fuck, he’s got an accent.

“You’re british?” I may have had a few drinks tonight, considering we are on the side of the road in Miami, the cat and the accent are throwing me off.

“You got that from one word?” He looks at me, confused, “Did you really bring your cat to go out and party in Miami?”

“I- No…” I glance back to see my friends who are still in line at the club, “But it’s the cat distribution system!” He laughs at me. LAUGHS.

What the fuck?

The cat snatcher sits on the curb, the cat pushing against him to get away. I sit next to him and snatch the cat right back. “She’s so cute!” I squeal as it stays still in my arms, meowing.

“Tell me more about this… cat distribution system.” I explain how people keep finding cats and it’s meant for them. He’s easy to convince, a good listener as well.

“Right then. I have to bring her home.” He sighs as if it’s a big issue.

“What? You mean I have to bring her home?” I hold the kitten closer to my chest, her light and dark brown fur brushing against me.

He frowns, “I found her first.”

I scoff, “She clearly likes me more. And I saw her first, you just got there quicker.”

He shakes his head, “Love, I still picked her up first.”

I furrow my brows, “Well, Love, You’re a random man and Juna and I don’t know you.” the kitten meows as if she agrees.

“Juna!? You can’t have already named her!”

“Ever heard of Clairo?”

“Okay- I’m Bob. What's your name?” He holds out his hand. I don’t take it.

“Bob?” I let out a laugh, “If you think I believe that, or would let you take Juna with that name, you’re on something.”

There’s something about the small smile he pulls that makes me feel weird and warm. He runs his hand through his hair, his ring catching the light, “My name is Lando.”

“Okay, Lando.” I roll my eyes, “Odd name but better than Bob. Why did you lie?”

His face scrunches up, “You honestly don’t know who I am?”

“Clearly not. If you’re that arrogant then I bet you’re not even known.” He smiles at this and stands up, offering me his hand.

I take it, standing and pulling down my black mini skirt as I do so. “She looks hungry.” My stomach growls at the exact time he says that. “So do you.”

I don’t know what to do. I’m staying with my friend this weekend and she is allergic to cats. I have no car and definitely not enough money to go buy things for a kitten. “Let’s go then.

I register that he’s speaking to me, “Excuse me?”

“If you won’t let me take her then we’ll have to go together.”

His words are what landed me in a pet store twenty minutes later.

I assured my friends that I would be okay and Lando made his friends prove he’s not some freak. His friends met mine and showed his instagram which made them agree way too quickly. He didn’t let me see it.

I gathered that he must be pretty famous or at least rich considering the McLaren we got into could not have been cheap. I saw him cringe when Juna had an accident in the front seat, yet he stayed quiet.

We’ve got Juna in a huge bed in the cart; food, treats, and toys surrounding her. “You never told me your name.” Lando pushes the cart down an abandoned isle, rightfully so since it is five minutes until closing.

We’ve been so busy that I honestly forgot I don’t actually know Lando.“Olivia.” I give in, “Liv, to my friends.”

“Alright Liv, are you from here?”

“Woah- we are not at friend status.” I shake my head, crossing my arms and shivering. I am still in platform boots, a mini skirt, and tube top. The few people working are shooting me dirty looks.

“Come on…” He frowns, leaning against the cart.

“Tell me your deal, then maybe I'll let you.”

“A fact for a nickname? I’m down.” He places the items, minus Juna, on the register. I explain my money situation but he doesn’t even think twice before he swipes his card. After we’re all back in the car he turns to me.

“I’m a driver.” He starts the car.

“Like a limo driver? Lando, you're not very good at this game.” Juna sleeps in my lap after she devoured a can of food and some water.

“A formula one driver…” He pulls out of the parking lot.

I know nothing about the sport except that it’s loved by my father and rich european people. “I don’t believe you.”

He eyes me and hands me my own phone that he’s carrying, “Lando Norris.” He says his last name.

“Quite the name you’ve got. Meant for fame, I fear.” He tries to hide his smile but he’s shit at it. I bite my lip and put my phone down, “I don’t want to look you up.”

“Why?”

“I want to learn about you, from you.” I shrug.

“Alright Liv…” He grins as he uses my nickname, “What do you do?”

I sigh and lean back in my seat, “I work in movies.”

“Really?”

I nod, “Yup. Mostly set design and some background stuff but one day I want to produce my own.” He listens intently, “So Lando… Why did you become an F1 driver?”

We go back and forth like this for thirty minutes until he pulls up to his hotel.

“Oh…” I look up at the fancy building, “You really want to bring a cat up there?”

He doesn’t say anything, just hands off his keys to the valet and grabs all the bags, leaving me with Juna. I’m amazed at everything we see, even the elevator is fancy with a big mirror that reminds me to wipe my under eyes that have mascara on them.

We walk to his room and as he opens the door for me my jaw drops, “Fuck, Norris.” I look around the huge room. It’s got a king sized bed, a bathroom with a tub and a shower, a couch, a huge TV, and the most beautiful view of the ocean.

“I won my first race here. Get a bit of special treatment.” he says like it’s the most casual thing ever.

He shuts the door and dumps everything onto the floor. We end up making a little space for Juna since we’re convinced we will lose her in this room.

Lando is in the bathroom when I text my friends about my night. They ask if he’s kissed me yet and I blush to myself, quickly explaining that it’s not that kind of night.

I’m laying on the floor, next to Juna when Lando walks back in, wearing only sweats. My eyes catch on his tanned and very fit body. “Forgot my jumper…” He says awkwardly, throwing on a blue dior hoodie as I look away and pretend to not have checked him out.

He lays on his stomach, petting the kitten's head and not meeting my eyes as he says, “If you wanna change, You could borrow some of my stuff.” I think I'm going to melt right there.

I check the time, “No… I really should go.” I sit up and he does with me.

“What?” he looks almost… sad? “You can’t leave Juna though.

“I know… But you can deal with a kitten alone.” I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to leave.

I don’t want to leave Juna.

I don’t want to leave Lando.

“Can I?” He raises a brow, “If you really want to go that’s fine. But… It’s late. And an Uber would be expensive. And it’s no trouble! Really you can take the bed.”

“Ok.” I say a bit too quick. His smile makes my heart skip a beat. Shit. Friends, Liv! Friends! Remember!? His adorable face and hilarious personality just comes as a bonus. “But you don’t have to sleep on the floor.” I laugh, “You can take the couch with Juna.”

He smiles and shakes his head, throwing a menu to me, “Order whatever, I can hear your stomach growling.”

-

note :

i love this story sm!! pt.2 coming soon!

[communistkenobi]

something I’ve been thinking about is like, the internet is this magical system of technologies, never before seen in human history, and one of its capabilities is to answer virtually any question you ask of it. Which is not even remotely a novel observation obviously lol. But I’m thinking about this in the context of a point that Adorno & Horkheimer made (in The Culture Industry I think?) about the radio: that to expedience the radio, to live in a social context where there is this vast incomprehensible system of technological infrastructure that you do not understand or control, and which allows you, a mere peasant, to listen to news broadcasts, music, and advertisements, is effectively like listening to the voice of god. Like the average person’s relationship to modern telecommunications is so mystifying, incomprehensible, and abstract that we experience technologies like the radio as an all-powerful, indestructible authority, and this (obviously) shapes our relationship to the information that is shared through it. People make jokes on here about how transmission towers are angels, but like tbh that is essentially how we experience them - vast, incomprehensible, highly dangerous objects whose impact on our lives are at once all-consuming and unknowable. We do not just turn on the radio and listen to the news, we tune into what the voice of god has to say today - right now he’s selling toilet cleanser!

and all that to say, I always find something a bit incomplete about discussions about wilful ignorance online - that we live in an age of mass information and yet people still seem as ignorant as feudal peasants, or whatever. Nobody googles things, nobody tries to branch out and experience new kinds of art, nobody educates themselves on important topics they don’t understand. and like this frustration is very real and well taken, I feel it frequently, but what I’m grappling with is whether this is the correct framing - that maybe “why don’t people just google things” is the wrong question to ask, because I tend to find the explanations offered unsatisfactory. Like specifically I’m thinking of discussions on here that are about like, “anti-intellectualism”, kids these days are so ignorant even though they grew up with the internet, reading comprehension is piss poor, and so on. Recently I’ve seen a lot of weirdly moral-panicky posts about children not knowing how to type on computers because back in my day we were forced to learn how to touch-type by age 8 even though we couldn’t look up any tutorials on YouTube to help us, etc etc. And like I just do not buy that people are individually choosing to be ignorant, that people are “getting dumber,” and that this state of getting dumber is inversely related to the amount of information we have access to (which makes “getting dumber” even more dumb). An unstated assumption that goes into a lot of these “anti-intellectualism” discussions is that “information” is this universal object that has a standardised enlightening effect on the people who interact with it - that the only reason to have an ignorant, sheltered, or ill-formed opinion on something is because you have individually chosen not to Look At Information that will cure you of your ignorance. And so going back to the god radio thing, having regular access to the google search bar is not just having access to an encyclopaedia or dictionary - it is like having a direct line of communication to god, this authority that can answer any question you ask of it. But it’s not just one answer, it’s many answers, more answers than you could ever possibly read through. Google reports the number of hits it returns for whatever you type in - you will regularly get millions of answers to your question. And these answers are embedded with advertisements, just as radio news broadcasts are. Like if god is selling you toilet cleanser while telling you the number for a suicide hotline or news about what’s happening in the world, how do you psychologically deal with that, how is your relationship to capital-I Information shaped by this relationship?

The corollary to “we live in an age of mass information” is “we live in an age of mass misinformation,” but they both show up as answers on google (again, not a novel observation). but in the face of that how do you not simply stop asking questions? & of course this decision to stop asking questions is given form and substance by social circumstance, it reinforces systemic privileges and violences, and so this decision is not one free from consequence, and in many cases it is not an innocent decision. a white person deciding not to read the news because it’s too hard to figure out what is happening/too frightening/etc has the consequence of reinforcing the white supremacist outlook that is foundational to the social context of white people because they’re not reading anything that challenges that outlook. ignorance has many social contexts and many of them are violent. etc. like the consequence of “why does nobody google anything” is just a continuation of the status quo, just with this supposedly glaring and easy fix to it (simply google it). but that just leads us back to a discourse of individual choice, of people individually choosing not to “google shit.” it is a deeply individual fix to a systematic social problem. and so maybe the question is not, why doesn’t anyone google shit, but rather, why is the primary delivery system of knowledge a god that sells you toilet cleanser 

[beenbaanbuun]

different types of dates with ateez

kim hongjoong - studio date

he loves producing but he also loves you and sometimes he has a little trouble balancing the two

absolutely thinks he’s a genius when he realises that he can just combine the two instead and take you to his studio

he loves to sit you on his lap whilst he works, answering all your questions with a pretty smile

will order food to the studio and ask (beg) one of the members to collect it for him so neither of you have to leave the romantic haze you seem to be stuck in

you feed him while he works, pressing mouthful after mouthful to his lips before using the same cutlery to feed yourself

“what does this button do?” you ask as you lean over to point at a circular one that sits just left of his hand. he quirks a brow at you, a smirk sitting pretty on his lips.

“do you actually want to know? or are you going to zone out again like last time?”

park seonghwa - lego date

it’s an incredibly cute concept in theory, but i feel like seonghwa would take over a little when it came to building the lego

you’d have to come up with some sort of system to make sure it’s fair like doing one number on the instructions each before passing it over

either that or the two of you do separate lego sets on opposite ends of the table (which he hates because the pieces get mixed up)

if he sees you do something wrong whilst it’s your turn to built, he doesn’t say anything but gently corrects you with his hands instead

displays it next to his bed and stares at it when he misses you a lot

“there’s a pink piece missing somewhere, seonghwa,” you mutter as your fingers card through the left over pieces that your boyfriend was trying to sort into organised piles.

“well maybe if you let me sort them out, you’d be able to find it easier…”

jeong yunho - city date

he loves exploring cities whilst he’s got your hand tightly grasped in his or a strong arm wrapped around your waist

definitely has a long list of places that he picked out for you, and after each activity he sits you down and gets you to choose the next one

loves taking you on the public transport because more often than not it’s a tight squeeze and he gets to hold you close

lots of stops at cafes in between activities where he’ll definitely buy your coffee

and if he buys you a pastry he won’t actually let you feed yourself because why would you when he’s around to feed you instead?

“i can feed myself, y’know,” you giggle along with yunho as he pressed yet another forkful of cake to your lips. your complaints don’t stop him as he breaches you lips with it.

“why strain yourself when you have a boyfriend to do it for you?”

kang yeosang - aquarium date

he takes you there because he thinks it’ll be calm and romantic but actually there’s actually screaming children everywhere

not that he really minds because the moment he sees your face light up at all the fish, all thoughts of having a calm date slip out of the window

lets you drag him around to each and every tank and listens very intently as you tell him which fish you like best

the two of you name the fish together; you name the cutest one yeosang and he finds the weirdest looking one and gives it your name

you tell him he’s being mean, but he’s quick to shut you up with a kiss

“look at that cute little epaulette shark,” you squeal as your hand shoots out to grab at your boyfriend’s. you’re too focussed on the fish to notice that he hasn’t taken his eyes off of your face the entire time.

“cute, indeed…”

choi san - gym date

he lets you know that you don’t have to go to the gym with him, but you insist on the fact that you want to

you actually just want to stare at him as he works out, which he works out pretty early on when you zone out watching him do bicep curls

it’s a mutual thing though because he absolutely almost drops to the floor when you start doing squats in front of him

the whole date is just you two going back and forth to see who’s going to break first

it’s him and it only takes like 20 minutes because he’s a man after all, and seeing you in those little gym shorts it’s enough to drive him insane

“bet you can’t sit there in silence while i do this,” you poke fun at him as you grab a pair of medium weight dumbbells and begin to squat. you don’t have to see him to know where his eyes are focussed.

“why would i stay silent when i can tell you how hot you are instead?”

song mingi - bed date

it’s exactly how it sounds - the two of you lay in his bed in pyjamas doing absolutely nothing all day long

although you do actually do stuff, but you just do it all in bed with the exception of sending mingi to pick up the take out

he brings it up to the bedroom and lays a blanket out across the sheet

the two sit on it like you’re having a picnic whilst mingi finds a nature documentary to put on so he can ‘create a vibe’

whatever vibe it is, you’re not sure, but you find it cute anyway and you’re more than happy to follow along with his weird suggestions

“the picnic i can cope with, but the bird sounds?” you get cut off by mingi shoving a piece of salmon maki between your lips to silence you. you chew on it gently, trying your hardest not to laugh when a pigeon starts cooing.

“it’s for the atmosphere, sunshine… the vibes, y’know?”

jung wooyoung - hair dye date

the two of you, in his bathroom, surrounded by the smell of chemicals and the feeling of a bleach burnt scalp…

it doesn’t sound romantic at all but as he massages the pink dye into your hair with his fingers, you can’t help but relax against his touch

he refuses to get his own hair dyed because he ‘doesn’t trust you’ and ‘doesn’t want the stylists to yell at him’

but he does get in the shower with you when it’s time to wash your own dye off

and after he’s done washing your dye away, he bends down so you can wash his hair too, even if there’s no dye coating the stands

“there’s either shampoo or hairdye in my eyes, jung wooyoung,” you grumble as you desperately rub at them with the heels of your hands. he rolls his eyes and pulls your hands away from your face.

“i’m not the one doing my hardest to rub it in to your eyeballs, though, am i?”

choi jongho - basketball date

literally in the dead of night he drags you out to the park nearby to play on the courts

he says it’s because it’s ’romantic under the moonlight’ but you’re pretty sure he just likes it when he has the court to himself

even if you’re proficient at basketball, he’ll find some excuse to come up behind you and wrap his hands around yours to ‘correct you’

you actually end up playing worse after his ‘corrections’ but that just gives him even more of an excuse to invade your personal space to help

you end up playing a match together but he keeps playing dirty by kissing you and then claiming ‘there’s no rules against it!’

“i know how to shoot a basket, idiot,” you giggle as jongho positions your arms from his spot behind your back. he’s pressed in close as he puts the ball into your hands.

“i’m not so sure, baby… you definitely look like you need my help.”

[scremogirl]

☾✧꥟ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ✧✰☀︎︎

𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐧

Yandere! Serial Killer x Reader

Mentions of blood! Mentions of Death! Mentions of mutilation! Mentions of Murder, GN! Reader, NReader/Diolouge uses a lot of black colloquialisms/AAVE *slightlyyyy black coded but only for the speaking bits. NO APPERANCE MENTIONED!* READ THE NOTE AT THE END PLZ! (●’◡’●)ﾉ Part 2 here Part 3 here

Halloween.

The day where people grasp the fact that the summer's over and the seasons have finally changed. Corny decorations on front porches, masks in windows to scare unaware customers, and people dressed as slutty cartoon characters.

You loved the last one. You’ve always worked hard on your costumes; from a small cameo in the school yearbook to entering contests and pageants. You loved fashion, everything about it. The different fabrics, colors, patterns; you cherished it all. So, it’s no wonder that’s what you’ve chosen as your destined career path. You somehow managed to get into the third most prestigious fashion school. I say third because the first one you applied for, was full of egotistical French exchange students who do nothing but compare their lives at home to their lives in America. The second… well, you don’t want to talk about it. Regardless, you’re so grateful your talents have been recognized.

That leads us to now. At the biggest fright fest of the year. Your professor decided that if everyone got at least a 95% or above on the unit test, he’d take the whole class on a field trip to the annual Freak do Shek Carnival. A free trip and creating a new costume? You’ve never studied harder in your life. You spent days working on your costume; hoping to win the annual costume contest.

“Breaking news! The killer know as the “Mask Maker” is still on the loose and is currently suspected to be in the Witchwood area. It is recommended for all residents to stay indoors travel in groups-,”

Your heart sinks.

No, no, no! Why does it have to be now? Why here? The area you lived in was one of the safest in the city! Police patrolled regularly, security systems were available to all, and most people have been traveling in groups these days. So, why? You look at your friend, Malika, who no doubt received the same alert as you did, judging by her face.

“Well what the hell are we supposed to do now!?” She yells in frustration. You all have arrived at the festival and the bus has already taken its leave. Unless you call an Uber, there’s no way out; but then again, with a killer on the loose, no person would be dumb enough to let any stranger in their car. You tell your teacher your concerns, but does he listen? No.

“We’ll be fine,” , “just travel in groups,” , and “make sure you check in with everyone at least every 15 minutes,” is all he says to shake your worries. Great job by the way. With that, he goes ahead with another one of the chaperones, probably on their way to get drunk on cheap beer and look at young girls. Pig.

“I know I ain’t stayin for damn sure,” you chuckle at Malikas abrasiveness and nod your head in agreement.

“Who’s gonna pick us up though? We all came here on a bus and no Lift driver is stupid enough to let strangers in at this time,” you both sigh and end up agreeing that she’d call her boyfriend to come get you. The only downside is he lives in the next county. That means 3 whole hours plus some that you two have to try and rid your paranoia.

“How ‘bout we go check out the costume display for the upcoming show? Maybe scope out some the competition?”

“You know what Malika, that sounds like a great idea,” she holds out her arm and you take it , laughing your way down the hay covered dirt path wearily dodging scare actors. Unbeknownst to you the glowing eyes of one of the masks are filled with anything but fake intent.

“Hey, Mal? Is he on the way yet?” You two have already viewed the display, concrete knowing you’re gonna knock everyone at the park. So you decided that maybe a little sightseeing wouldn’t be that bad.

“Ugh! He said he’s on his way but knowing him, that means he just got in the shower,” with a deep sigh she puts her phone back in her pocket.

“Look,” she continues

“ How about we go get something to eat and enjoy what we can. I mean, we did wait all year for this,” you’re a little hesitant but you end up caving; fried oreos do sound good right now.

The walk to the concession stands is filled with jump scares from actors, Jack, o lanterns illuminating your path and the laughter of children and adults a like. The environment reminds you of why you came here in the first place, maybe there is nothing to be worried about.

Oof!

“Oh I’m sorry! I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going,” to wrapped up in the scenery and nostalgia, you failed to notice one of the actors scrambling by. You hear the muffled laughter of Malika and try your best not to strangle her to cover up your embarrassment. Fortunately , it was just the water that spilled on them; Unfortunately, your oreos lay spread eagle on the ground. However, even with a soaked costume and powdered sugar all over their boots, they remain in character. Only giving you a tilt of the head, a grunt, and tightening their grip on their axe. The eyes that lay behind the papier-mâché mask boar deep into your soul, the white contacts holding something deep and dark. The feeling of guilt is slowly washed away and replaced with anxiousness. Man, they're getting employee of the month. Still, you feel bad so you grab the napkins from your back pocket and gently wipe their mask, some of the fake blood coming off along with the water. Hmm, these effects are off the chain too.

As you clean them up you can’t help but to think that they’ll join the costume contest, definitely giving you a run for your money. You're snapped out of your thoughts when Malika pulls you along the road, whining about how upset she is because she didn’t get to snag one of your Oreos. Making your leave, you look over your shoulder one last time, only to find those same white eyes trailing your figure.

My god, you're even more beautiful up close.

“Personally, if that happened to me I’d kill myself,” once again, your friends laughter snapped you outta your own mind. You just giggle and brush it off.

“Shut up! It’s not like I did it on purpose! Besides he was kinda fine not gon’ hold you,”

“I know right! the way he titled his, had a tear running down my leg not gon’ lie,”

“Girl… don’t you gotta man? Like… on his way here?”

“Shhhh don’t ruin the fantasy,”

Two hours have officially passed, the same old texts between Malika and her boyfriend, this time however he was actually in the car. She had pressed him to turn on his location for safety, you could never be too sure now can you? He should’ve been here by now but with how crowded the festival is getting, you can’t blame him. Thankfully, the contest is just about to start! Going against your better judgment, you and Malika thought that being apart for about 15-20 mins wouldn’t hurt. She’ll be waiting in the audience while you go change anyways.

Rushing to the changing rooms you fail to notice another contestant coming towards you just as fast. For the second time this night you managed to bump into someone.

“I am so sorry! I didn’t mean I-,”

“Watch where you’re going bitch! Y’know how long it took me to make this thing?” You look to the left and then to the right trying to figure out who the fuck they think they’re talking too.

“Look I didn’t mean it, I’m sorr-,”

“Yea yea whatever, just stay outta my way next time. Besides, it’s not like you're gonna win this thing anyways,” just before you were about to give them a piece of your mind, the manager stepped in and separated you two. Jeez now this is gonna take even longer than you expected. You thought it was only fair to let Malika know shoot her a quick text. “No worries, babe! Gill's location says he’s here already so Imma grab us a quick bite to eat before I look for him and we head to you. See ya soonnn❤︎︎!!!”

Good; that buys you just enough time. After getting changed and checking your reflection for the hundredth time, you step out feeling as confident as ever. Just as you exit the stall, you hear the worst blood curdling scream of your entire life. You look over to your right and see that asshole from early and that guy with the really nice axe murder costume. Your eyes have to be deceiving you! One of their legs is completely severed, blood dripping from the stub left behind. Slash marks, deep and crooked, adorn their arms and remaining leg. They Look as if their limbs could snap off at the slightest breeze. They cry and groan as they reach out to you. Following their eyes the crazed murder shifts his eyes to you. Their weapon of choice freezing in their hands mid swing. Their victim continues to moan in pain and crawl away, begging and pleading for someone to save them. But…you just laugh.

“I see what you're trynna do here, and it ain’t workin’. Your costume is good but it isn’t better than mine. Assholes,” the last part is mumbled under your breath as you walk away. Even though you presented yourself in this prideful manner, you can’t help the feeling of disappointment that bubbles inside you. You tried really hard this year, let’s just hope that everyone else thinks you did too.

CHOP

Finally. Holding up the severed head he smiles, crooked and eerie. The bitch wouldn’t stop screaming, but at least he gets to see the look of fear in their face forever.

“Hey! What the hell’re you doing!?” hm? Turning around he sees the manager from earlier, standing before him with wide eyes filled with shock and anger. He can’t have his plans be ruined by a little slip up! He didn’t mean to act so impulsive but he couldn’t help. Nobody talks to you like that; not if he had something to do about it. Swinging his weapon of choice up on his shoulder, he’s about to take a step before he’s interrupted.

“Didn't I tell you guys to keep all spare props in bags because of the fake blood?! It gets everywhere and I’m the one who has to clean it up!” They shoved him to the side before grabbing a large trash bag from the cart they lugged behind them; simultaneously grabbing a mop and bucket. Continue to grumble about how “they don’t get paid enough for this” and “all the newbies are irresponsible”. But hey, free disposal.

“Sh, sh it’s okay; it was never your fault,” you tried comforting her but to no luck. All she can see is red as the burning hot tears streaming from her eyes ruin the makeup she spent so long on

“Okay?! It’s not okay (Y/N)! He said he was stuck in traffic all the while he was toungin’ down some bitch in a slutty cat costume. Very unoriginal btw!” You try to keep your giggle in for her sake. You kept trying to tell her this idiot wasn’t any good for years but nooo “the dick was too good to let go,” and apparently, someone else thought so too. Her weeping continues before she builds up the courage to speak again.

“All I wanna do is go home; fuck this competition,” you smile seeing her personality shine through her sadness just a little.

“Yea, fuck this competition,”sure you’re sad about to being able to participate this year, but with your best friend in distress and a serial killer on the loose, you can’t help but to think that maybe you could wait until next year. Ordering the Uber, you suggest that before it gets here, you should check in with your teacher first. Of course you don’t have his number and you're sure your other classmates are not worried about their phones unless they’re snapping pics and recording for their stories . You send them a quick text to your classes group chat and look for the exit.

“He really is a dick, you don’t need him,”

“Yea, I know. Besides, maybe that axe guy will take care of him for me,” she giggles but you don’t find it funny at all.

“What?”

“Yea, I saw him outta the corner of my eye when I walked in on he who shall not be named about to fuck that other girl,” she rolls her eyes and continues walking but you remain stationary.

“You gotta be joking,“ she turns around and gives you a quizzical look so you continue further.

“He and another dickhead I bumped into put on this whole show to get me to drop outta the contest. Lost limbs, fake blood and everything. I don’t know what his problem is, but he needs to leave me the fuck alone before I get the manager, on some Karen shit”

“Now that I think about it, he has been high-tailing us ever since we’ve got here,” she freezes before looking at you dead on. She wipes away the tear stains and brushes her nose against her sleeve before scanning the area.

“You don’t think it’s Kee-,”

“No! Don’t. It’s not him. It couldn’t be,” she holds up her hands in defense before pulling you along to get the hell up outta here. It goes dead silent, tension filling the air. It couldn't be him! It’s just some rando whos jealous of your skill! But…your mind was just playing tricks on you. That feeling of paranoia started to rise again and the flashbacks felt like they were hitting you in waves. She saw this and decided to speak up before it got worse.

“Hey, I’m sorry for bringing it up. I really didn’t mean to-,” this time it’s your turn to cut her off. You offer her a light smile and hold her hand in yours before squeezing.

“It’s alright. Besides, who needs men anyways. You’re all I need,” she gives you an even brighter one, her usual self returning, before squeezing just as hard, laying her head on your shoulder while you walk.

“Yea, fuck men,” you two laugh in sync before changing the conversation to what you’ll do when you get home; maybe a Horror movie marathon and some junk food will cheer you up. Who cares, the night has just begun for you and there’s no way anything was gonna ruin it.

Watching you walk away a gloved hand slams into a tree. Dammit! You won’t get away so easily. You’re his. Nobody else’s. He’ll make sure of it. Starting with her.

Hello everyone!!!! Hope you enjoyed the first part of my Halloween special. I’m breaking this down into 3 parts because I’m afraid people will think it’s too long if I put the whole thing on tumblr. I will be making an Ao3 and the whole fic will be posted without any split up. When it’s created and up I’ll let you know. Hope you enjoyed Loves!!! ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎.

-Love, Sosa❤️

[suzukiblu]

Day nineteen of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

. . . huh, Tim thinks as he watches Kon rub his thumb over the goat's soft and fluffy fur, suddenly reminded of the cashmere. Okay, maybe his hypothesis about Kon's possible appreciation for nice textures is actually a thing, then. Noted and taken into evidence. 

“It's . . . cute,” Kon says, ducking his head a little and still slowly rubbing his thumb back and forth across the goat's fur as he looks down at it again, his face still all red. Tim makes a mental note about maximizing the amount of nice textures in Kon's life. He is gonna buy him sheets with a very high thread count, just to start. “Um–thanks, man.” 

“You're welcome,” Tim says as he has the incredibly weird thought that Kon has probably never actually owned an actual toy before. Like, maybe video games and things like that? He’s pretty sure he's heard Kon mention a few video games he likes before, now that he's thinking about it, but in retrospect he doesn't know if he even owns a console of his own or just played them with someone else at some point or . . . who knows, really? 

Like, Tim didn't decide to buy him a toy because of that, obviously, he really was just thinking of the idea as a cute little hopefully-the-right-kind-of-flirty reminder of how they “met”, but . . . 

It's a weird thought, is all.

. . . also, additional mental note, he should make sure to buy Kon a console if he doesn't already have one. And maybe a handheld system too, and obviously whatever games he wants for both. Maybe a couple spare controllers in case he wants to have anyone over, Tim has no idea, but better safe than sorry. 

“Let’s pay,” he says, redistributing the shopping bags between both hands again and then nodding towards the register. “Do you like video games?” 

“Sure,” Kon says, glancing sidelong at him again as they head for the counter. He’s doing that a lot, it feels like, though Tim isn’t sure why yet. Just intel to absorb, for right now. “Who doesn’t like video games?” 

“Do you have any?” Tim asks, and Kon looks–embarrassed, almost? Weirdly? 

“I can’t exactly have you over to play, man. No offense, it’s like a security clearance thing with the lab,” he says, which is not where Tim was going with that at all and is sort of . . . flustering, actually. Like, to hear, he means. He’s trying to buy things for Kon, not invite himself over to, like . . . pester him for attention or whatever. 

“Yeah, you'd be kind of hard to explain to my dad,” he agrees, putting on a wry expression. Kon's mouth tightens for a second, for some reason, and then he smiles awkwardly in his direction, not quite meeting his eyes. Tim represses a frown, wondering what that’s about. 

“Usually am, yeah,” Kon says. 

“Well, once we get you a place of your own, that’ll solve that problem,” Tim says reasonably as they wait in line together, though obviously he doesn’t really expect Kon to have him over or–

“You’d actually wanna come over if I had my own place?” Kon asks hesitantly. “Like–to hang out or whatever?” 

. . . Tim wonders who exactly ground all of Kon’s usually-boundless confidence into the dirt, because he’d just like to have a word with them. Or shove a doomsday weapon up their ass; whichever’s more convenient at the time. Considering how Kon usually acts, Tim doesn’t even want to think about how shitty someone had to be to get a reaction like that out of him. 

“I would,” he says. “We could order in and play something, maybe.” 

“I don’t actually have a console or anything. Shit, I don’t even have a TV,” Kon admits. “Which is not a request, for the record, just a statement.” 

“Okay,” Tim says, which as a response is something he’s just gonna let Kon interpret however he likes. He could just have a TV and console delivered to Cadmus for him, probably. Although he doesn’t actually know how big Kon’s room is, so in retrospect maybe that’ll be something to buy once they get to the stage where Kon’s picking out furniture for his new apartment/house/cul-de-sac. Easier to size and scale correctly that way, Tim figures. 

God, how big is Kon’s room? Is it just a room? Like a dorm or something? Is it at least actual normal bedroom-sized? 

. . . he really, really hopes it’s not a barracks situation. 

“I mean it,” Kon says as Tim pays for the goat and they leave the store. “Like, this was really cool of you, but you’ve definitely done enough. I didn’t do anything that special, you know?” 

“I feel like I’m the one who gets to value your effort in saving my life,” Tim says. “Like, monetarily and all. As a whole fiscal thing.” 

“It really wasn’t a big deal, though,” Kon insists. “Like, I didn’t risk my neck or anything. It wasn't even hard.” 

“You put in the time to learn how to do that with your TTK to begin with, even from halfway across the gallery floor,” Tim says. “Just because it was easy to do then doesn’t mean it was easy to learn to begin with. I think it’s really impressive that you even figured out you could do that to begin with.” 

“I mean–well, yeah, I guess,” Kon says, ducking his head as his face flushes again. “I just . . . like, it took a while to figure out how to do it right, definitely. So I wouldn’t say impressive.” 

“If you’re trying to be modest, maybe don’t lead with ‘I worked really hard on improving myself and it worked really well’,” Tim says, flashing him a wry little smile. Kon turns even redder, then grins sheepishly at him. 

“Look, TTK is badass, but it’s way less impressive than punching a giant asteroid into gravel,” he says. “Or superspeeding through all the bad guys in a microsecond.” 

“Why?” Tim asks, tilting his head. “Lots of people can punch an asteroid in half. You could break it down into its component parts and also make sure none of said parts escaped into the atmosphere or crashed any satellites. And you don’t need superspeed when you can keep the bad guys from even moving to begin with, right?” 

“Huh?” Kon says, looking–startled, a little. Tim’s been doing his research, but also just thinking–plus he's pretty sure that talking up TTK as a power is just about the best possible way to get Kon to be into Tim Drake for as long as possible, so . . . 

“I’m just saying, you seem really versatile. Like, you’re obviously not just a bruiser,” he says reasonably, though the more time he's spent trying to think about TTK lately, the more aware he's become that Kon tries very hard to be one whenever possible. Like–much more often than he actually should, in fact. “Your powers are really flexible, from what I’ve noticed. You can be a scalpel and a hammer. Possibly simultaneously, depending on your multitasking skills, I don’t really know how that works.” 

“Oh,” Kon says, the startled expression turning flustered even as he grins a little helplessly and ducks his head, twisting the handles of the shopping bag the clerk put the goat in around his fingers. “Uh, I mean, it depends, but . . . kinda, I guess.” 

Okay, well–he looks a little less boisterous and smug than Tim would've expected him to get over direct compliments to his TTK, honestly, but he does still seem flattered. Tim had just been prepared for annoying bragging and overblown pride as a reaction, not that helpless little grin Kon's currently trying to hide. So that's . . . weird, yeah. Huh. 

“Well, I think it's impressive,” he informs him with an easy shrug, and watches maybe a little bit too curiously as Kon's grin widens and he ducks his head lower. He looks so–not proud or arrogant, still, but pleased. 

It's definitely weird. 

Tim can't pretend there isn't an equally weird part of him that thinks it's cute, though. It's a little strange being the one hyping up the exact same superpower Kon's usually incapable of shutting up about while he tries to downplay it, but he guesses it's not that different from being the one carrying most of the bags right now. Just a little bit of a temporary role reversal while Kon's wearing a soft cashmere sweater instead of his usual heavy leather jacket and Tim's not wearing a mask. 

Well–at least not a domino, anyway. It gets a little more complicated going with the metaphorical definition, obviously. 

“I'm still buying you lunch whatever you say,” he says. “And a bigger wardrobe. You can't always show up in your superhero gear, somebody's gonna notice you eventually.” 

“Geez, man, how many times are you planning to see me in civvies?” Kon says, and if his accompanying laugh didn't sound a little forced, Tim would assume Kon was saying he was going to be bored of him before that was a concern. That laugh makes it sound more like Kon thinks it’s likelier that Tim is going to get bored of him, though. 

No, Tim is pretty sure that's wishful thinking on his part. It's too tempting to attribute evidence like that to mean something he'd like it to mean, is all. 

“I don't know,” he says, giving Kon a smile. “How many times are you planning to let me?” 

Kon stares at him for a moment, turns red, and then laughs self-consciously and looks away. 

His flirting standards are still extremely low, yeah. Thank god, because Tim absolutely sucks at this.

[miyuhpapayuh]

back at the office.

“Well, at least you two are on a first name basis, now. Improvement!” Mercedes pokes Mya in her side. She swats at her friend’s hand in feigned annoyance.

The pair are seated on a park bench across from the office, munching on fruit before they have to clock in for the day.

“Girl, gon’ somewhere,” she says with a laugh, “We work together and that’s about it. He’s probably not even from here!” The aloof tone of her voice betrays her actual feelings.

“Ma’am, that accent is thicker than chunky peanut butter out the freezer. Of course he’s from here. Or at least near here! Plus, I seen him at the poetry spot downtown, he could be pretty decent,” she says casually, while chomping on a chunk of watermelon.

“And just what the hell are you doing at a poetry spot? Last book you read had a big cat on the front,” Mya jabs at her friend.

“First of all, fuck you,” she’s interrupted by Mya’s snort of a laugh. “Second of all, didn’t I tell you? I met my new boo down there,” she finishes with a shimmy of the shoulders.

“How many felonies does this one have?”

“I’m gonna let that one go ‘cause I’m in a good mood. And if you quit being a punk, you can snag yourself a man, too.”

“I’m not a punk. I’m just not in the market for a man right now.” She shrugs as Mercedes rolls her eyes.

“Chile, a lie don’t care who tell it. Ray Charles can see you want his ass.”

Mya can’t contain the burst of laughter that leaves her lips.

“Why would you say that??”

“I'm just sayin’!” Mercedes continues through her own laughter.

“I’m not ‘bout to play with you today,” she dabs the tears that formed at the corners of her eyes. Glancing at her phone, she notices she’s dangerously close to being late.

“Oh shit,” she pops up from her seat grabbing her things, “Savannah’ll have our heads if we're late again.”

“Please, Savannah loves us. She’ll fire that shiftless ass Colin before she fires you,” Mercedes responds as she gathers her things at a more leisurely pace.

“Either way it goes, I’m not tryna make a habit outta being late.” She says, as they make their way inside.

“Nice of y'all to join us,” none other than Savannah herself greets them both just as they punch their timecard in the lounge.

“Hey auntie!” Mercedes cheeses, before heading out.

“So, what lil’ boy done caught your attention and got you showing up late now?” Her boss teases.

It never fails to surprise her how nothing gets past her boss, not that he was the reason for her tardiness.

“Nobody. Only thing that has my attention is work,” she lies casually, trying to breeze by her and back towards the lobby.

“Hmm. You sure it’s not that handsome young tender with the strong arms that’s always breakin’ his neck to catch a glimpse at you?”

Her ears perk up at the new piece of information, and she deftly pivots on her heels.

“He does?” she responds a little too earnestly for her own liking. Clearing an imaginary blockage from her throat, she adjusts her tone.

“He does?” She repeats, cooler this time, as she tucks a freshly straightened, cherry red tendril of hair behind her ear, a nervous tick.

“Mhm.” The all-knowing smirk on her boss’ full lips makes Mya’s cheeks redden even further.

“All the time. I’m surprised he hasn’t asked you out yet. Must be shy like you. Lord knows if I wasn’t married and old enough to be his mama…” she trails off.

As if her poor cheeks couldn’t get any rosier.

“Alright! I’m gonna start workin’ now.” She starts to back her way out of the hall toward the printer room to save herself further embarrassment.

“Hey! You're coding, for the next hour. Grab the big stack of card stock from the back to refresh your signs, before you get started.”

Grabbing her tools for the day, she heads to the big printer in the middle room, closing the door behind her.

She’d taken it upon herself to color code the system, helping everyone navigate through it just a little easier, as well as replacing the faded, white company signs with brighter, more colorful ones.

Pulling up her stool, she gets started.

A knock sounds at the door, before Isaiah steps inside, heading towards the supply closet.

“Mornin’, didn’t mean to interrupt,” coming out with a stack of copy paper in hand, he looks up to see the pretty brown girl with bright red hair that’s had mind jumbled for the last few weeks or so.

She looks up from the screen and smiles. “Mornin’,” she responds, “I’m knee-deep in this screen, I didn’t even hear you come in.”

“S’alright. Just came to refill the printer.” He replies, gesturing towards the big contraption she was currently sitting in front of.

“Oh! Let me move out of the way, sorry.” He chuckles, watching her grab her laptop and work on her feet, before he moves in to refill the tray.

“It’s alright. What you workin’ on, today?” He asks, printing a few documents.

“Coding the system to make it easier for everybody. Then, I’ve gotta redo the signs, out front. Savannah’s finally letting me loose in here.” She giggles, typing away on her keyboard with one hand.

Gathering his paper, he moves out of her way. “Sounds like a project. Can I see?”

“Sure!” She sits her laptop down and shows him the screen as she types away.

“Our plans are in green, projects are in pink and tasks are in blue, now. Holidays are highlighted, as well employee birthdays. Ooh! I really loved doing that, because I get to choose different colors for that, as well.”

He hums a laugh. “This your avenue, yeah? Projects?”

“Projects can be fun,” she turns toward him. “Imagine if she let you use photoshop on the ads that you create? It would take them to the next level!”

“You’ve seen one of the ads I’ve done in photoshop?” He asks.

“Mhm. It was up on the main computer, the other day. I didn’t know it was yours, until I saw the little eye you placed in the corner.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “It’s like my watermark, for now.”

“It’s cute. But, your ad was nice!”

“I appreciate that. Especially, coming from you.” She blushes, as he heads toward the door.

“See you later?” He asks, hope burning behind his brown eyes.

“See you later.” She nods, mirroring his smile, before they get back to work.

About an hour and a half later, all ten of her fingers are cramped to hell and her back is killing her, but she’s finally finished with her project.

Closing the door behind her, she sighs and heads towards her own office, bumping into Savannah.

“Oh, Mya! The system is running so smooth, now! And the signs look wonderful!” She praises.

“Thank you! I’m always happy to help!”

“So am I.” She smiles.

“What do you mean?”

“I may have put a bug in someone’s ear about someone.. you can thank me, later, sweetheart.”

“A…what? Savannah, what are you talking about?”

“Your secret admirer is about to become not so secret, anymore.”

Her heart begins to beat triple time.

“Oh, God… I think I’m having a stroke.”

“Oh,” Savannah starts laughing. “You are too much, girl! Just relax! I know he’s pretty, but he’s a sweet man who’s sweet on you!”

Isaiah conveniently walks down the hall, his sight set out for Mya.

His eyes light up as he spots her talking to their boss.

“Afternoon, ladies.” He greets. “Can I steal Mya away?”

“As long as you give her back,” Savannah pats his shoulder, before heading back down the hall.

“Hey,” she waves, that intoxicating cologne of his hitting her nose.

“Hey,” he smiles, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I was kinda hoping that you would join me for lunch.. that is, if you didn’t already have anything planned, of course.”

The corners of her mouth lift into a smile. “Well, seeing as we like the same kind of food, I would love to join you for lunch. Let me just grab my wallet.”

She moves for her office door, until he speaks, again. “I was actually hoping that I could buy your lunch, as well.”

“You’re doin’ a lot of hoping, today.” The smile never leaves her lips.

“Looks like I’m doing a whole lot scorin’ today, too.” He humbly brags.

“Does this work for you, often?”

“I don’t know. This is the first time I’ve tried.” He laughs.

They share a laugh. “Lead the way.”

☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.☆:☆: .☽ .☆: .☽ · 。ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆

“So, where exactly are you from?” Mya asks, biting into her sandwich.

The pair had decided to head over to Panera for a quick lunch.

“I’m from Texas. Dallas, to be exact.” He replies.

“Ah. I told my friend that you weren’t from here, I knew it!” She giggles.

“How’d you tell?”

“Well, no offense… but, your accent is rather thick. They don’t really sound like that, down here, too fast.”

His smile takes over his entire face at her comment. “None taken. I’ve gotten that, a lot. I like the accents out here, though.”

“Well, at least y’all sound like you come from somewhere.” She rolls her eyes.

“What do you mean? You’re from here, ain’t you?”

“Yeah, but I don’t sound like it.” She frowns.

“Yes you do,” he snorts. “You got a lil twang.”

“You’re only sayin’ that.”

“Honest,” he holds his hands up. “You do. It’s subtle, but it’s there.” He assures.

“Really?” Her brows raise. He nods.

“Mhm. Don’t trip, pretty.” He says, popping a chip in his mouth. She blushes.

Catching the three minute warning on her phone, she begins to gather her trash.

“Almost time to head back?” He eyes her movement, reluctantly doing the same.

“Yeah,” she sighs, “rest of the day’s filled with paperwork.”

“Well, we can’t all be God’s favorite and color code the system in the mornings.” She laughs at the crack he takes at her.

“It’s not just about making it pretty, mister big  arms.” She playfully rolls her eyes.

“My broadness distractin’ you, little lady?” He asks, amusement coloring his tone.

Yes. God, yes.

“We should head back.” She stands up from the table to toss her trash. His eyes travel to her derrière.

“Mm.” He remarks to himself, standing from the table to throw his own trash away, before they head back to the office.

Making plans to catch back up once the day was finally over, Mya sinks down in her chair.

Her phone begins to ring.

“Hey, mama,” she answers, turning her laptop back on.

“Hey, baby. You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just ready for the workday to end. It started pretty great, though.”

“Yeah? What’s going up at Vannah’s that’s got you in the good spirits, besides the angel, herself?” Her mother speaks fondly of her beloved boss.

“She’s finally taken me up on my offer to brighten up the place!,” she cheeses like her mother could see her face. “I started color coding the system to make everything easier to navigate, because it was starting to give me a migraine! Nothing on this earth should ever be that dull.”

Her mother laughs. “You are something else. But, that’s amazing, sweetheart. I always knew you’d be able to showcase your talents.”

“Thanks for always believing in me.”

“Always. Now, who’s this boy that Mercedes was goin’ on about?”

Sighing aloud, she sits up in her chair. “I gotta call you back. We’ll talk about it later, I promise.”

“Is she in trouble?”

“She’s about to be. Love you.”

“Love you too, baby. Bye bye.”

Hanging up, she quickly facetimes Mercedes. “Look, I know you and my mama are cool and all, but why would you tell her about Isaiah?”

“Girl, I honestly just told her that you got a crush on somebody, like you always do! And she was like “is he cute?” And I was like “do you know your daughter? The men are always fine!” And she laughed and that was that.” She shrugs.

“You two are gonna give me grey hair.” Mya shakes her head, beginning to type away at her keyboard.

“Now, I know you FaceTimed me to spill somethin’, so please get on with it.” Mercedes laughs. Her infectious laughter grows as Mya turns her attention back to her best friend.

“Ooh, I knew it!”

“Cedes, be quiet,” Mya giggles,” he asked me to join him for lunch and offered to pay for it! So, we went to Panera and talked. He’s from Texas, by the way.” Mercedes’ mouth falls open.

“I was wrong??”

“You were! I told you, too!” She whisper yells. “He’s from the south, but it ain’t here.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. So, you got you a Dallas cowboy, then, huh?” She says, the look on her face makes Mya wanna hang up on her.

“I really don’t like you.” She tries to hold back the smirk.

“It’s okay! Cause, I really love you!” She cheeses. “And, that’s cute, seriously. He bought you lunch and made you fall in love!”

“I’m not in love!” She laughs.

“What was in that sandwich? Bacon?”

“Mercedes.” Mya calls, it falls on deaf ears.

“That bacon must’ve been extra crispy.”

“It was. Goodbye.”

“Ride ‘em, cowgirl!”  She quickly hangs up, shaking her head.

“That girl is a mess.”

Grabbing her keys, she locks her office door behind herself and heads towards the front of the building to wait for Isaiah, like they’d planned.

“Yeah, she’s great.” He smiles, telling his friend and coworker, Jane, about Mya.

“I knew you two would hit it off. She’s been eyeing you for a while.”

“Well, she wasn’t alone.”

“Don’t I know it. You’ve talked my head about her for months, Isaiah.” She laughs, patting his shoulder.

“That’s what friends are for, right? Don’t I listen to you when you go on and on about uh, whatever his name is, this week?”

She rolls her eyes. “Tell your girlfriend to enjoy you, cause I’ll be killing you, soon.”

He laughs. “Don’t be me like that, Jane Doe. I’ll catch up with you later.” They hug and part ways.

He finds Mya with her head in her phone. He walks over, her eyes locking with his as he approaches her.

“Hey, pretty.” He greets, enjoying the view of her reddened cheeks as she twists her lips up.

“Hey, handsome.”

“Can I walk you to your car?” He offers.

“Sure.” She accepts, allowing him to lead the way, opening the door for her. She mentally checks manners off her list.

“Thank you, Isaiah.” She unlocks the driver side door.

“You’re more than welcome. Before I let you go, I’d like to ask you somethin’.”

She leans against the car door. “What’s up?”

“I been meanin’ to ask you, if you’d like to accompany me to this new spot, Friday?”

Completely taken aback that he was actually asking her out, her immediate yes jumped out, before she could contain herself. Their smiles are identical.

“I would love to. What kind of spot are we talkin’?”

“S’called Tropic. You know, one of those clubs with the disco lights, like we’re still in nineteen seventy-five and the drinks got them tiny umbrellas in ‘em.” He chuckles, rambling on as she dazedly stares at him.

“Sounds like fun.” She cheeses.

“It’s a date, then," grabbing her hand into his own, he softly caresses her skin. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me, too.” Her voice came out smaller than she liked. He doesn’t tease her about it. Kissing the back of her hand, he releases her. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She nods.

Waving goodbye, he heads to his own car, leaving her to slide inside of her own and squeal.

“A date?!”

[wrens-writings]

The Monster’s Gone

: ̗̀➛ Percy Jackson x platonic! child of Poseidon! reader

: ̗̀➛ in which big brother Percy saves the day

: ̗̀➛ oh gods, folks. here it is! my first piece of writing posted to tumblr. i have absolutely zero clue about what it is that i’m doing, but here we go!

: ̗̀➛ WARNINGS: bad writing (probably), allusions to angst. i don’t think anything else? lmk if i missed anything 🫶

percy adores being a big brother. someone that only he gets to pick on? that’s a bonus, yea, but the real reason he loves it? watching his little siblings grow up and experience the things their lives would offer.

with tyson, percy was his friend before he was his brother, but he still helps him to understand the world above the sea when applicable. tyson is like an overgrown puppy, a comparison that many people, including sally jackson herself, have pointed out.

and then of course, there’s sweet little estelle, who has her whole life ahead of her that percy just cannot wait to be a part of.

but then comes the outlier. you. don’t get him wrong! he loves you as much as he does all of his siblings. but you’re so traumatized that he just… doesn’t know what to do with you?

when he got to camp for the summer, excited and eager for a killer two and a half months with his girlfriend and his best friends, he was taken aback. normally, himself and tyson were the only two to be in poseidons cabin. yet there you were, a small 11 year old wringing their hands together in cabin 3.

percy had looked at you, eyes wide and full of confusion. “annabeth.” he murmured to the pretty blonde who stood beside him.

“yes, percy?” she responded carefully, seemingly already knowing what he was going to say next.

percy turned to his girlfriend, his face twisted with conflicting emotions. “why is there a child in my cabin and where did they come from?”

and thus begins the summer of percy jackson awkwardly tiptoeing around his new sibling. annabeth had explained to him that the poor kid was chucked into the foster system at a young age, forced to be exposed to more horrors than he would’ve liked for a sibling of his. but with those horrors, came a small issue.

how was he meant to get to know you if you were scared of your own shadow from the trauma you experienced? he knows firsthand just how terrifying this world can get. hades, he fought the chimera when he was just a year older than you and would’ve died if it weren’t for poseidon himself!

it isn’t all bad though. percy knows a handful of things about you. he knows that you like the beach (which, hey, so does he!), he knows that you like spicy food, reading, drawing, and he knows that you’ll probably shit bricks when you inevitably encounter your first monster.

the poor boy has this innate desire to protect you in the way you’ve never been protected before, but he’s so afraid to make you upset or uncomfortable. he’s stuck at a crossroads. so, what does he do?

wallows in his own mind because adhd is a bitch! eventually, despite his whining and complaining at the idea of hurting you, annabeth and grover manage to talk some sense into him.

“guys, i- i don’t know. they’re so young and so scared of everything. how would i even-“

“percy!” grover cuts him off, his eyes narrowing at his best friend. “think of it from y/n’s perspective. they show up after getting exposed to a world they are actually so scared of, and the only thing that makes them feel better is the promise of a big brother.”

percy sits in silence, his ears burning red with shame. annabeth puts her hand on his arm softly with a kinder approach. “just go talk to them. i promise they won’t bite you.” she reassures him. ever the daughter of wisdom, that one.

percy nods and stands up, intent on finding his new sibling, wanting to put them at ease, even just a little bit. he sets off, initially heading towards the beach.

when he arrives, his lips tug down into a frown. despite the beautiful scenery of camp, especially the view from the beach, you aren’t here. he peers through the pretty, looming trees, trying to catch a glimpse of you. his frown only deepens at the sight of your book bag, but no you. “y/n?” he calls out, his voice laced with fear.

when he gets no response, he scoops up your bag and carries it with him towards cabin 3, figuring you just forgot it like the absent minded kid he hopes you are. except, you aren’t in the cabin either. now he’s starting to worry.

he puts your bag down on your bed neatly before rushing back out. he double checks the beach— nothing. he checks the dining pavilion— also nothing. he looks around the arena, the climbing wall, the archery range, even stopping into the infirmary to see if you’re laying there injured and no one thought to tell him. but he turns pale as a sheet when will solace tells him he hasn’t seen you.

percy runs into the forest, uncapping Riptide as he leaps over a fallen log. of course, you probably just wandered off by accident. after all, why would you leave your book bag at the beach?

a scream that sounds heartbreakingly like you echoes from further in the woods and instantly he heads in that direction. didn’t anyone tell you that the woods are full of monsters?!

he breaks through the trees, slashing his sword clean through a hellhound as it lunges towards you. after a terrifying few moments alone while he secures your safety, percy takes you into his arms.

the hug is tight, protective, full of warmth and love, fear and panic. “shh, i’ve got you…” he whispered in your ear, trying to soothe your fearful blubbering. “the monster’s gone. he’s on the run, and your big brother is here.” he reassures you, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head.

he doesn’t care about the tears that soak his shirt, or even the snot that does the same thing. all he cares about is that you are safe and not injured. he pulls back from the tight hug briefly. “hey, kiddo. you hurt anywhere?” he whispers, his voice strained and fragile.

“n-no. ‘m okay…” you stammer out, your own voice matching his. he kisses your head again, breathing out a sigh of relief. “thank you, percy…” you whisper quietly in his ear. you can’t do much besides whisper at this point, and who is he to judge?

percy squeezes you tighter, his body shaking from the fear of you being hurt “always, kiddo. i’m always gonna be there when you need me. rain or shine, day or night. i’m your big brother. that’s my job.”

soooooo…? gimmie your thoughts, pls!! bare in mind that i’m scared shitless of constructive criticism tho 😭🤚

i’m not the greatest at writing fanfiction but i’m really eager to learn more. your feedback is much appreciated 🫶

[kaizokuniichan]

Discord and also this post of mine got me in my Kid feelies so I finally got the courage to write a lil somthin for my angry little flower 💋

Not super smutty but MDNI as always.

The first time Kid has sex he blurts out I love you and vows to never say it ever again. He remains emotionally immature and it’s especially apparent when you join the crew. His attraction to you annoys him, and he makes it everyone’s problem including you. He is. Insufferable. Everything you do seems to piss him off, and yet even when you do your damndest to stay out of his way he always seems to find you.

It gets to the point where you complain to Killer about it, and he tries to calm you down and convince you it’s not personal (it is). Killer tells Kid he needs to get his shit together and sort out his feelings (Kid denies) or he’s going to lose you. Kid doesn’t care if you stay or leave, not until the day you get so fed up with his barrage of insults that you begin to pack your bags.

But he stops you before you can hop off the ship at the next island, and he drags you back to his workshop where he forbids you to leave (him). You start to yell how you don’t understand what his problem is, you’ve done everything to stay out of his way what more do you want? Clearly you’re not good enough—not for him or his crew. And this makes his eyebrows raise—or at least the place where they should be. What do you mean you’re not good enough? He’d handpicked you himself, obviously you’re more than capable. Kid doesn’t allow any slouches in his crew.

“So? What is your problem?” His brain short circuits as he’s finally faced with dealing with and accepting his feelings for you in the span of 5 seconds. And then, he snaps. Grabbing your face and crushing his lips with yours, the kiss is surprisingly not as rough as one would think. You’re shocked, taken aback, and absolutely turned on. Of course you’d noticed how hot your captain was, it’s one of the reasons that made this all so frustrating. Beyond the scowls and barking orders there were heated looks and shortened personal bubbles. So you sigh and lean into the kiss because finally this man whom, despite his brutish personality and you’ve begrudgingly been infatuated with, has at last revealed that he wants you.

You don’t immediately tear each other’s clothes off that night or onward, but there’s an obvious shift in your relationship that becomes more than obvious to everyone else. No longer does he grumble when in your presence—he shows the utmost patience and respect for you. And whenever you’re not around he’ll drop whatever he’s doing to come find you and bring you back with him.

When he drinks he becomes much more handsy, wrapping his flesh arm around you and whispering in your ear how hot you look and to come by his room later, which you do.

And before the lock on his door clicks the two of you crash into each other like waves in a storm—fitting for a man with the power and might of a hurricane. He picks you up and you revel in the contrasting touch between his arms—one flesh, and one that represents the very essence of him. And as the two of you rut against the wall, mouths spilling intermingled gasps and groans and curses, Kid realizes in that moment why he’d been so afraid of accepting you. You were the veins crawling throughout his nervous system, starting at his heart. You’d taken hold of him and held every bit of it in your hands. And frighteningly he was going to allow you to keep it.

[storm-angel989]

So I love the way you write about the Vee’s, so I wanted to see how Val and the others would react to (Val’s daughter) reader getting a motorcycle.

Hi there,

The answer to this question is the same as when I tried to get my motorcycle license.

They do not react well.

Enjoy the angry Vee parents (and Reader is her Mom- because this is PRIME OTO material)

<3 Mandy 

Valentino couldn’t believe what he was watching. And if he wasn’t sitting in Vox’s office, watching footage taken with Vox’s technology, he would be inclined to believe it was fake- a sick joke created to get him riled up. 

“A fucking motorcycle, is she god damn serious?” Valentino snarled as he lit a cigarette. “I told her no, I fucking said…”

“And did you really think you would stop her?” Vox asked as he leaned back in his chair. “I mean honestly, Val. She’s got your little rebellious streak.” 

“Why the fuck do you sound so amused?” Valentino demanded as he slammed his fist into the control panel below the screens. “This is blatant fucking disrespect, when her mother finds out she and I will…” 

“Hey! Val! Val,” Vox’s tone dropped. “Back away from my computer. Calm the fuck down. You’re looking at footage from three hours ago. It’s already safe, and waiting for us.” 

Valentinos expression dropped. He stared at Vox and Vox grinned as he spread his arms. 

“Vel’s got her exactly where we want her Val- no need to worry!” Vox said as he stood up. He clasped Valentino’s shoulder and held up a set of keys. “Now that you’re angry, let’s go have some fun.” He paused, “oh, and I did text your wife. She won’t make it for this part, but she’ll be home tonight.”

Valentino sighed. Great. His wife had to leave her job early because his daughter apparently couldn’t accept the word no. Reluctantly, Valentino followed Vox down to the lowest level of the V tower- the garage. There, amongst the limos and sports cars, sat the brand new, black and red bike. Next to it stood a furious looking Velvette and Valentino’s daughter, looking dejected. 

“We don’t ask you for much, do we?” Valentino heard Velvette admonish. “Anything and everything you ask your father for, he says yes. This is the one thing- the one fucking thing he told you no. He explained to you that he didn’t feel it was safe. He told you why he didn’t want you on this fucking death trap and instead of listening to him, instead of respecting him, you straight up…”

“Alright Vel, we’ll take it from here,” Vox interrupted.

“Daddy, I’m…” his daughter began.  

Valentino crossed his arms and looked his daughter up and down. “I don’t want to hear it. Not yet. What I want to know is how you got it in the first place? There are rules in place bebita- classes you need to take, hours on the road to be completed. Not to mention the overhead cost of the bike itself.”

She hung her head and muttered something Valentino couldn’t quite catch. 

“Louder, baby. None of us could hear,” Vox told her firmly. “Come on now. You did it. Take ownership.”

“I…I’m sorry!” She sniffled and crossed her arms. “Daddy, I’m sorry.”

“Allow me to help explain,” Vox said as he walked towards her. He placed a hand on the bike and glared at his niece. “You hacked into my system, registered yourself as a licensed driver, forged and uploaded all the official documents and then went into the bank, upped the limit on the debit card we allow you to use and purchased this…this death trap. Not only did you blatantly disrespect your father, you lied, cheated and stole to get your way.”

Valentino watched as his daughter tried to wipe tears away. He could feel his blood begin to boil. 

“Is this how your mother and I raised you? A spoiled brat who can’t accept the word no- even if it's for her own good? What is your mother going to say when she gets home?”

“What does mom care when she has all of heaven and hell to deal with?” She snarled. 

Valentino gritted his teeth. “Bebita, that isn’t true and you know that.”

“Just  fucking ground me already,” she snapped. 

“Oh, you’re more than grounded,” he shot back. “Give Uncle Vox your credit cards. We will discuss further punishment when your mother gets home. Go to your room.”

Valentino watched as his daughter stalked out of the garage. As soon as she was out of ear shot he turned to Vox and Velvette.

“What do we do next? She’s grounded? We take her cards away? What else can we…”

“Therapy,” Velvette said with a shrug. “Sounds to me like she needs a session.” “And we have someone coming to pick up the bike. The digital effects are already sorted,” Vox added. “The biggest thing is getting her mom home and finding out why she felt the need to act out like this. Because between us- as angry as I am, and as much as I want to believe that its her acting like a brat, I think Velvette’s right. There is a deeper reason than just teenage defiance. But hey,” he clasped Valentino on the shoulder. “Reader should be home any minute. Let’s figure this out like we always do-as a family.”

[skelly-words]

more bf!sukuna hcs, but he’s insufferable and stuck in my head. this is part 4…

warning: some NSFW, slight intox, minors DNI

NEVER lets you drive. he’s so misogynistic. “females are bad drivers” ass bitch. "you're gonna wrap us around a tree."

claims to despise when you baby him e.g. forehead kisses, scratching his back to put him to sleep, even fucking cuddling. don’t believe that shit for a second but pretend to and stop until he starts acting grateful.

way too confrontational to be taken out in public. just pretend you don’t know him when he’s pulling a gun on someone who stepped on his shoes.

you’d be broke if you bailed him out of jail every fucking time. at least let him marinate there all night before folding or call his dad to do it instead.

so messy. it's unintentional, but sukuna just leaves a trail of disorder in his wake. throw pillows on the floor, shoes in the walkway, and always leaving the lights on despite complaining about the utility bill.

throw him outside to do yardwork or something. he loves that shit. putting in a couple fruit trees, maybe stepping stones. by the end of the summer you have a tiered garden with slate retaining walls and an automatic irrigation system.

why does he have a green thumb? he's in a secret competition with the neighbors for prettiest lawn. and yet, you manage to kill the little succulent garden he planted for you.

a minimalist (derogatory). sukuna is always trying to throw your trinkets and knickknacks away when you're not paying attention.

he loves getting a little fashion show after you buy new clothes. it's one of the few cute things he'll admit to enjoying. it doesn't matter if the outfit is skimpy or modest, hearts are popping out of his eyes like in a fucking cartoon.

doesn't apologize under any circumstances. the word 'sorry,' isn't in his lexicon. however, he will leave his card on the counter before heading to work and pick up flowers on the way home and make reservations at your favorite restaurant. don't expect to hear a real apology though.

super duper tender-headed. you can't even detangle it without him whining. might cry if you try to do braids, twists, any kinda style. fucking pussy

irritating asf. actually hate him, idk why i’m writing this. i'd probably poison him and collect the life insurance.

UMM nsfw

calling sukuna something corny and dominant in bed (sir/daddy/king/etc.) out of the blue would make him nut. and he isn’t even embarrassed about it at all.

incapable of pulling off a quickie. i think this is more endearing than aggravating. he can't hit it right in just ten minutes. he'll ask for more time. and a little more. then it's been an hour and you're likely running late for something.

thinks you're hottest bent over (i'm not even projecting rn bc my ass is flat). don't worry, he thinks your face is cute, missionary is great too. but if you wore one of those pillow case ass house dresses with no panties he'd go crazy. i hate to air him out like this, but it's true. i gotta link this shit so you know what i'm talking about. makes him feral. maybe i am projecting bc i luv those dresses.

but anyway, he'd fall for the 'bend and snap' so bad (legally blonde reference). these are basically crack, sorry

occasionally forgets that foreplay is a thing and tries to go straight from light frenching to stickin it.

i feel like sukuna’s sunday nights are spent getting really high and kissing on you for hours. he just gets the munchies dude. leaving dewy spots of saliva on all your exposed skin. once he’s tasted that, your clothes is peeled off so he can drool on the rest of you. he doesn’t even realize how much of a tease he is. his mouth suctioned to your inner thigh… maybe i should just write this as its own thingy

p sure i said this already, but he’s a biter. gnaws on you like a mf chew toy. it’s an oral fixation thing, if you don’t like it buy him lots of lollipops and tic tacs.

ok i have to stop before i gross myself out. tyty for reading <3<3<3 have a wonderful day.

masterlist if you wanna read the rest

[foreverrandomwritings]

Hi can I request this [ STAKE ]  for one muse to protectively and/or possessively stand behind the other to intimidate a third party with rooster from the jealous prompts? Thanks 😊

Car Troubles

Summary: An issue with your car leads you to dealing with sexist mechanics. Will Bradley be there to help you?

Pairing:Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x afab!Reader

Warnings: Arguing, sexism, intimidation, a little angst if you squint and swearing.

Word count: 1006

Masterlist M's Hundred Celly Masterlist

Rooster had been watching you from his spot in his Bronco as you stood inside the mechanic shop talking to the guy behind the desk. Your car had been making a weird noise and had ended up breaking down. So you had taken it to Maverick and he gave it a once over telling you what was wrong and what parts you would need. He unfortunately wasn’t able to do the repairs himself because of a vacation he had planned with Penny and Amelia. 

Rooster had volunteered to do the repairs but once he got under the hood of your car everything was a lot different than his beat up Bronco. He had fixed most of the stuff in his vehicle with pure dumb luck. He didn’t want to take a chance of fucking up your vehicle with a hope of luck so he left the fixing to the professionals. You were supposed to pick your car up from the shop today. 

He figured it would be a simple task. You would go in, go over what the final cost of repairs were, pay the bill, get your car and be on your way. But the way things were looking inside the shop he wasn’t sure that’s how it was going. You had been in there for almost ten minutes now talking to the guy at the desk. Bradley thought for a while that maybe there was an issue with their system. 

As another five minutes went by he began to worry. He could see your toes tapping violently against the floor of the shop. Your arms were crossed along the expanse of your chest. He could tell even from behind you had to have had a look of fury on your face from the way you were standing. He debated on going inside when he saw you let out a deep breath. But he thought against it knowing you liked to handle things yourself. 

His thoughts changed quickly when he saw you throw your arms in front of you. As if asking what the fuck is this while shaking your head sharply. Turning off the Bronco he quickly made his way out of his front seat and towards the front door. Upon opening the door he was greeted by your voice. You hadn’t seemed to notice him so he remained quiet. 

“What the fuck do you mean I need a whole new engine? The car is barely a year old and has less than ten thousand miles on it. There is absolutely no way it needs an engine replacement.” You seethed out as your hands grabbed the papers in front of you harshly. 

“Miss, as I have been trying to tell you. Your entire engine has quit working. We would have to order so many parts it would just be easier and cheaper for you to replace the whole engine.” the middle aged mechanic spoke to you in a monotone voice and his expression bored. 

“My father-in-law has been working on cars pretty much his whole life and made me aware that the only part I would need is a new timing belt because my old one seemed to be faulty and possibly an oil change.” you pointed your finger at him sternly. Bradley felt pride swell through his chest as you referred to Maverick as your father-in-law. Yet his mood soured as the mechanic spoke again. 

“Well miss I’m not sure what to tell you other than the fact that he was clearly wrong. Why don’t you let us replace the engine and we'll throw in five discounted oil changes. I’m sure a young lady such as yourself could use someone else doing them.” He spoke to you blinking slowly. 

“I don’t need to replace my fucking engine. I will have my car towed from here and take it somewhere else if you don’t stop being a sexist piece of shit.” The anger in your voice scared Bradley a little as he had never heard it before. But the mechanic didn’t react at all. So Bradley finally decided to intervene. He came to stand behind you glaring at the balding man in front of you. He crossed his arms over his chest and flexed his muscles. 

Thankful he was still in his uniform from work so it gave him an extra bit of authority to his stance. The man’s face paled slightly at the sight of him. With one more pointed look from Bradley the man started to speak again.

“Actually ma’am now that I think of it, replacing the timing belt and getting an oil change should fix the issues you were having.” You let out a deep breath as the man finally seemed to have reason. But that wasn’t good enough for Bradley and he shook his head at the man. 

“I will also throw in five oil changes, free tire rotation and a discount code for a set of four tires.” He spoke quickly looking to Bradley for approval. Bradley raised his eyebrow and the man spoke once again.

“I also want to apologize for the misunderstanding that occurred today and can promise that you will be getting better service in the future.” That seemed to satisfy both you and Bradley. So he slowly slipped back out the door making sure to stare daggers at the man inside until you were done and heading back to the Bronco. You got in with a loud huff buckling the seat belt and reaching your hand out towards your fiancé. You laid your head on the window beside you as he grabbed your hand. 

“I didn't get my car today. I don't want to talk about it right now. Can you please just take me home Bradley. I have a raging headache from dealing with that bullshit.” you said as you closed your eyes. 

“I’ll take you anywhere you like sweet cheeks.” he replied to you, giving you a quick kiss on the back of your hand before pulling out of the parking lot.

A/N: Sorry this took forever darling anon! Thank you so much for the request!

Tags(open): @wkndwlff & @sylviebell

[givemequeen]

little miss perfect: draco x slytherin!reader

request: draco malfoy x littlemissperfect slytherin!reader and the pair swears they hate each other but at a pureblood party the tension breaks and they end up making out? maybe like blaise or theo or daphne or pansy (their bffs) walk in on them and they’re just like ok at least i don’t need to listen to u guys argue anymkre a/n: i loved this request. might write another draco soon! warnings: sexual tension, make out sesh word count: 1306

Going to this party was a mistake.

You realised that the moment you walked in through the doors and saw Malfoy standing in the middle of the room with a drink in his hand and girls surrounding him. Yet, you still walked in and got yourself a drink and made your way to the dance floor to greet your friends who had dragged you here. Why? Who the fuck knows.

Malfoy was a pain in the ass and despite sharing 90% of your friends, you could not stand him. He was arrogant and snobby, always acting as though he was above everyone else. You never understood why the rest of the guys allowed him to act that way.

"That is just the way he is, honey." Pansy had laughed when you had asked her one day, before turning back to the mirror and putting on another layer of lipstick.

"He's been that way as long as I've known him and, trust me, I've known him for a long time." had been Theo and Blaise's response.

You, being part of a pureblood family, had also known Malfoy for a long time and though he had always acted this way, it seemed it had only gotten worse the older he got.

You were dancing with Pansy and the three drinks you had taken had made you forget Malfoy was even at the party. That is, until his cold drawl came from behind you.

"You call this dancing?" he smirked.

You spun around, skirt swishing in the wind, and scowled at him.

"What do you want, Malfoy? Isn't there some slut out there for you to snog?" you placed your hand on your hip, eyebrow raised in defiance.

"Why would I do that when I could be here, annoying you?" his smirked deepened, intensifying your urge to slap it off of his face. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, I'm only joking."

"You're such a cunt, Malfoy, you know that?"

"Of course I do, how could I not if you keep reminding me every bloody minute?" he clenched his jaw.

"Piss off, I'm dancing with Pansy."

"First of all, you don't own the dance floor and, secondly, there's no way you actually consider what you were doing dancing. Did you fall off a broomstick?"

You huffed and pushed past him, sick of his bullshit.

You needed a break, some fresh air and maybe a fag to get him out of your system. He was always doing this, doing or saying something to get under your skin, to get you riled up.

You made your way out of the common room, away from the deafening music, and up towards the Entrance Hall. Being a Sixth Year had its perks, you were allowed to stay up until later.

As soon as you stepped outside, your regretted not bringing a coat with you. You quickly cast a warmth charm over yourself and though it helped, there was nothing like a good, thick coat to ward off the cold.

Even though you hadn't grabbed a coat, you had grabbed a fag. You placed it between your lips and lit it using your wand, relishing in the way the smoke brunt your lungs. You inhaled that heavenly first puff and closed your eyes as you slowly let the smoke escape your mouth.

You leaned against the castle wall, the stone cold against your bare back, and took another drag, forcing yourself to forget about that git, Malfoy.

"Running away from me, are you?"

Speak of the Devil.

Your eyes shot open and you immedieatly rolled your eyes. Standing in front of you was none other than Draco fucking Malfoy. He, too, had a fag in his mouth and was taking slow, dragged out puffs.

You were about to snap at him, call him names or something, when an idea popped into your mind. You took a long drag and pushed off of the wall.

"You're a bit obsessed with me, aren't you? Following me around and all…" As you spoke, you let the cigarette smoke lazily curl out.

You smiled as you saw the way Malfoy's cheek lit up. But that shocked expression quickly disappeared, immediately replaced by a mischievous grin.

"Lets say I am." he said, taking a step towards you. "So what? You're a fit bird, why wouldn't I be obsessed?"

Your eyes widened in surprise. What the fuck was he saying.

"What is it now, little miss perfect? Cat got your tongue?" he took another step towards you, forcing you to take a step back. You made contact with the stone wall and this time you weren't sure if it was the look in his eyes or the coldness of the stone that made you skin erupt with goosebumps.

"You fuck around, you find out." he was so close to you that you could smell his aftershave.

The atmosphere was charged with tension so thick you could feel it pressing against your skin.

"What are you doing, Malfoy?" your fag was long forgotten on the lush grass. "Go away." but even you could tell how big of a lie that was.

He wrapped his fingers around your chin and forced you to look up at him. His grey eyes were penetrating and invasive, and you were sure he could read your mind, sure that he could see the ways you were imagining him on top of you.

"I don't think you want me to go away." he said, his tone made you shudder. His hair had fallen from its carefully constructed facade, now framing his gorgeous, sharp face.

The air between you crackled with a charged energy, and as he held your gaze captive, the unspoken tension between desire and restraint became palpable. You looked up at him, blinking like an idiot, your mouth half-opened, waiting for him to do something, anything.

Then, when you least expected it, he grabbed your face and kissed you, hard. You gasped against his cold lips and his hands went to your waist, pressing you against him and holding onto you like a lifeline. Your own hands flew to his hair, tugging at the strands.

You bit his lower lip in anger, how dare he kiss you so perfectly? But that just gave him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You moaned as his tongue met yours, gladly giving in. His hand slipped up under your top, quickly gliding over to your left breast.

He squeezed your breast and you moaned, arching your back. His cock was hardening against your inner thigh and you shifted so he would be against where you needed him most. You rolled your hips forward, moaning his name as his thumb went over your hardened nipple-

"Holy fuck."

"Seriously, guys?"

"So, your entire feud was just a lie? You were just horny?"

You pushed Draco away, quickly pulling your shit down to cover yourself. Behind Draco stood Theo, Pansy and Blaise, all with disbelief written all over their faces.

Well, except Pansy, who had a knowing look. She had one hand on her hip and a perfect eyebrow raised in a perfect arch.

"I knew it. Theo, you owe me 20 galleons." she stuck her hand out, a smirk on her face.

"You bet on this?" Malfoy snapped, whirling around. "Can you lot just piss off?"

But he was complete mess and no one could take him seriously; his hair was completely dishevelled, lips red and raw, shirt untucked and crumpled.

No one said anything for a minute until Theo burst out laughing.

"Yeah, mate, we can tell you two are a bit busy." he laughed, his eyes sliding down to Draco's obvious erection.

You couldn't help but laughing as well.

"Well, at least we don't have to listen to you two arguing anymore." Blaise said.

[chaotic-super]

Joining The Superfriends - Chapter 28

AO3 Link

“Alex, where’s Lena?”

Alex pushes back on Kara’s shoulders, stopping her from trying to sit up and get out of bed for at least the sixth time in less than two hours. “She’s got a lot on her plate and I think she needs some time to come to terms with everything.”

“What do you mean?”

“She sat by your side for five days straight, Kara. She spent most of that time doing nothing but worrying about you and hasn’t taken the time to properly process what happened with and to Lex. Her brother just died and that will impact her life massively.”

Kara closes her eyes, trying to get the image of Lex’s corpse out of her mind. “Yeah. That’s a lot. Is she mad at me?”

Alex looks down at her sister’s panic-stricken face. “No, no, of course not. She understands, and she actually told Kelly that she’s grateful it wasn’t her that did it, even if she hates that you now have to carry that burden.”

“So she’ll be back?”

“I’m sure she will be,” Alex confirms. “I’ll text her soon and see if she has an approximate time, but hopefully she’s decided to get some proper sleep in her own bed. She’s been pushing herself to the limit to be with you while you were unconscious. I think it’s probably all just caught up with her now.”

Kara nods slowly. “I get it. I still wish she was here, but she should look after herself.”

“It’s ok to want that, Kara. There’s no shame in wanting things. It’s only when you push someone else’s feelings aside for your own that you’re being selfish. Hell, sometimes we deserve to be selfish. As much as I want to push you to do that right now, Lena needs some time. She really does.”

“Ok…just,” Kara pauses momentarily, trying to find a nice way to word her next sentence. “Can you keep everyone away from me for a while?”

“Everyone or Mon-El?” Alex raises her eyebrow at her little sister.

“Both. I don’t want to deal with Mon-El right now and I don’t want to be interrogated by Winn either. I just want to rest for a while and try to wrap my head around everything.”

Alex squeezes her hand softly. “Ok, I can do that. I’ll tell everyone you’ve gone back to sleep. You should actually do that.”

Shaking her head, Kara snuggles into her pillow. “I don’t know if I can do that. I’m pretty achy and my mind is just everywhere. “I might read for a while. Can I borrow your tablet?”

Alex grabs it and swipes away all her open windows before handing it over. “I’ll leave you to it because you’re obviously not ready to talk yet and I’d be wasting my breath trying to get you to. Shout me if you feel weird. We’re pretty sure the kryptonite is all out of your system, but you’re not fully healed yet. It’s important you do.”

“I will, I promise.”

“Good. Now, I’m going to go and entertain everyone so they stay out of your hair. You owe me one.”

“I think I owe you more than one.” Kara smiles at her softly. “Thanks for taking such good care of me.”

“Always,” Alex promises, backing out of the med bay.

“Oh, and Alex?”

“Yes, Kara?” Alex sighs fondly.

Kara clutches the tablet to her chest as she peers over at her sister, her hair falling in her eyes and blocking her vision somewhat. “Are Sam and Jack coming?”

Alex shrugs. “I don’t know, why?”

“Lena should have her friends here to support her. Especially now. I know Sam works at Luthor Corp, so there’s probably a huge mess for her to clean up now Lex is gone, but surely at least Jack can come?”

“I’ll give them a call.”

“Thank you.”

“Now rest.”

“Ok,” Kara replies softly as Alex finally retreats out of the room.

With her sister gone, Kara leans back, not even turning on the tablet in her grasp, too preoccupied thinking about the mess Lena has to deal with now. Between Lex’s death, the destruction of the city, the deaths of all the civilians and dealing with Luthor Corp, Lena’s plate is so full it’s overflowing. She just hopes Lena will let her be there for her through it all.

-

Lena pulls the duvet around herself more firmly, then takes a moment to flick her damp hair out of her face. The shower was nice, but trying to reach over her shoulder to coat her healing wounds with anti-septic cream afterwards wasn’t. It’s done now though, even if it did wear her out. She really wants to be back at Kara’s side, but now that she knows she’s awake, she doesn’t feel as panicked. There’s not the same pit in her stomach or the little voice in her head telling her that Kara might not wake up. She just feels lighter. Lighter but tired.

She knew as soon as she made it back home that she would end up in bed for a while before going back to the Tower. She just needs a breather. It doesn’t help that she knows that when she does go back, she has to fight against Kara’s ex, who apparently hates her. The revelation that Kara once bitched about her family is neither here nor there. She couldn’t care less really. After all, who hasn’t bitched about her family at this point? What bothers her is that Kara’s ex decided it was alright to try and start a fight over Kara’s bed right after she just woke up from a five-day coma. That she can’t overlook.

Personally, she’s got nothing against the guy. He can say or think whatever he wants about her. What he can’t do is make Kara’s life harder or make her uncomfortable in any way. Who even comes to visit their ex after a near-death experience anyway? Someone who wants to worm their way back into her life, that’s who. Like hell is Lena going to sit back and let that happen. They might not have had the chance to make it official yet, but she’s pretty damn sure they’re at least seventy percent of the way there.

Allowing her eyes to droop closed without resisting the urge to sleep for the first time in days is a kind of bliss Lena can’t describe. It’s been long awaited just as much as she dreaded it. She doesn’t get to enjoy it for long though because she barely lasts five minutes before she’s off into the dream world.

Her mistake comes with not silencing her phone before going to bed. She should know by now that if Sam and Jack can make her life worse in any way, they’ll do it.

“What do you want?” A groggy Lena answers her phone, pissed that she’s barely slept at all and she’s already been awoken.

“That’s not very nice.”

“What’s not very nice is being awake for almost five days straight with only crappy naps between. I just got to sleep. I’ll call you back when I wake up again. Good night.”

“Oh no, the fuck you don’t.” Sam harshens her voice. “As much as I hate that you’ve barely slept, this is important.”

Lena huffs and rolls onto her back, kicking her legs against her mattress like a stroppy teen. “But Sam…” She whines.

“No, this has to do with Luthor Corp. Lex’s death certificate has been filed now. That means that legally, the company is now yours. You just have to come and sign on the dotted line. You’ll have to come to Metropolis though.”

“And you couldn’t have waited a little longer for me to sleep before asking me to come to another city in the midst of nobody being able to get anywhere due to the fact that National City’s airport literally got flattened by the weird-ass leg of Lex’s spider ship?”

Sam clicks her tongue and sighs down the line at her. “Lena, I appreciate that you’re not having a good time right now, especially knowing your brother is dead. I know you cared for him even after everything. I’m sorry for that. I’ve bought you as much time as I could with Luthor Corp, but there’s already talks of your mother trying to find a way to get her hands on the company.”

“Let her have it, Sam. I don’t want it.”

“I know you don’t, but you can’t let your mother have that power. She’s just as bad as Lex was, and look at what he did.”

Sam can practically hear Lena’s brain whirring down the phone.

“I just don’t know if I can do it, Sam?”

“Not even just for as long as it would take for you to find someone you trust to run it?”

“I trust you.”

“I can’t run it, you know that. I have Ruby.”

Lena sits up with a frown, propping her pillow up behind her haphazardly. “I know. I just…I don’t know how to run a company. I can build things, I can fix things, I can give a mean right hook. I don’t know how to run a company.”

Lena can hear the shuffle through the line as Sam shrugs. “That’s why you’ll have help. I know you’ve got a damn good team on your side back in National City, but you’ve also got a pretty good one here too. I’m with you, Jack is with you, and you’ve got a whole team of literal superheroes with you. You can change the world for the better now, Lena. Don’t waste your shot.”

There’s a brief silence on the line.

“Ok, fine. I’ll figure out how to get to Metropolis as soon as possible.”

“I’d say just use Super-air. I can say first-hand that she offers a first-class experience.”

Lena clears her throat. “I’ll ask J’onn. She’s…”

“How bad?”

“Pretty bad. She only just woke up.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” Lena sniffs quietly. “I’ll text you when I’m leaving.”

“Good. I love you.”

“Love you too, Sammy.”

-

Lena rubs her eyes, still awfully tired but feeling at least a little better compared to when she went to sleep.

Grabbing her phone, she sees that she managed to get almost six hours of rest, and that’s much more than she was expecting, so she is happy with that. She just has to get through her list of things to do that’s a mile long.

She squints at her notifications and sees that she has a handful of texts to answer, most of them from the Superfriends just checking in with a couple from Jack too, telling her that if she doesn’t let him know when she’s in town so they can get drunk together, he’ll throw a hissy fit.

Alex’s text sits right on top, so she figures she can answer her and she’ll let the others know. Jack takes days to answer texts so he can’t say anything about a bit of tardiness in responding. She can handle him later.

She drags herself out of bed, stretching out her stiff back and dripping her jaw to let out a yawn that makes her jaw crack. “Ok, so I just have to make sure Kara is alright, potentially fight her ex and take over an entire company before coming up with a way to help rebuild the city. That’s only four things. That’s not too bad.” Staring at her reflection in her bathroom mirror, she sighs. “Who am I kidding? This is going to be hell.”

Lena rolls her shoulders, trying to get rid of some of the stiffness there, and then she nods at herself in the mirror. She’s got work to do and moping won’t help anyone.

She gets dressed as quickly as possible before brushing her teeth and washing her face. The quicker she can get to the Tower, the faster she can get things rolling, and the quicker it’ll all be over.

As quick as she wants to get there and sort everything though, she still has a lot on her mind and she needs to take a moment to take everything in. Walking to the Tower, she stares at the damage left on the city. Damage that definitely wasn’t there when she moved here. Damage that she is partly responsible for. If she hadn’t moved here then none of this would have happened. If she hadn’t moved here, her brother would be alive. If she hadn’t moved here, Kara wouldn’t be hurt.

“Lena, I’m so glad you’re here.” Nia bumps into her as she walks out of the front door to J’onn’s P.I. firm. “Everyone is upstairs. We’ve spent the past hour or so figuring out the best way to help with the clean-up of the city. I think your big brain could do us some major favours in figuring out the best place to start.”

“Sure.” Lena nods. “Where are you going?”

“Just grabbing coffee and breakfast. You want me to grab you some too?”

Lena forces a smile onto her face. “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, I won’t be long.”

“Take your time.”

Nia grimaces. “I absolutely won’t do that. Alex gave me a very colourful threat because she’s caffeine-deprived and hangry. It’s better for everyone if I hurry.”

Lena chuckles and the fake smile turns genuine, just for a second. “That’s probably for the best then. See you soon.”

“Bye.” Nia waves, the door clicking shut softly behind her.

Lena’s shoulders sag as she wanders across the room and watches the elevator appear before her, glancing behind her for a moment before she steps inside.

Peering through the elevator doors, she realizes it’s in full view of the front window. She should really tell J’onn to do something about that. Anyone could walk past at the wrong moment and see something none of them want some randomer to see.

She sinks against the back wall as the doors close, letting her eyes fall shut as the gentle motion reminds her of the sleep she missed out on. Now, she kind of wishes she’d tried to get a couple more hours of rest before coming in, but she figures there’s no rest for the sister of the wicked.

Alex and Kelly are sitting in the main area as she steps out into the space. “Hey.”

“Hey, how are you?” Kelly asks, nothing but kindness and sincerity written across her face.

“I’ve been better. I managed to get a few hours of sleep so I’ll count that as a win.”

Alex frowns at her, her arms folding. “Why am I sensing a but?”

“Because there is one.” She shrugs. “With Lex dead, Luthor Corp is now mine, as we already knew. What I didn’t realize was how little time I have to get over to Metropolis to handle it all.”

Kelly’s eyebrows lift in shock. “You have to go to Metropolis?”

“Unfortunately.” Lena sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, stressed at the very thought. “I’ll have to see if J’onn is willing to fly me over. Sam called and told me there’s already talk of my mother trying to take the company. The only way I can stop that is by going over and making the switch official. My mother might not be quite as bad as Lex, but I can assure you that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. She’s trouble and shouldn’t be in control of a multi-million dollar company.”

Alex uses her foot to nudge out the seat beside her. “Come on.”

Lena does as she’s told, plopping down gracelessly. “Sam is doing everything she can to buy me time; that’s pretty much all she’s been doing for the past few days. Luckily, she’s CFO, or else I’d have had to try and find a way to Metropolis even sooner.”

“Is there anything we can do?”

She shakes her head softly. “I doubt it. Just…take my mind off it, just for a few more hours. I saw Nia downstairs, and she said you’re trying to figure out how to handle the destruction. Let me see your plan. I can help with that.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? Trading bureaucratic destruction for city-wide physical destruction doesn’t seem healthy.” Alex challenges.

“And running around the city in masks fighting bad guys with alien technology is the healthiest thing a person can do, right?”

“Touché.”

“Can you guys go ten minutes without arguing?” Kara staggers into the room, one arm wrapped protectively around her middle and the other using the doorframe to help her balance.

Alex shoots up to her feet immediately, rushing to her side, Lena not far behind. “You’re not meant to be up yet. You’re still healing.”

“But Alex—”

“No buts, you need more rest and more sunlight. You might be out of the woods kryptonite-wise, but you still have some pretty gnarly wounds that need to heal. Look at you, you can barely stand without wincing.”

Kara pouts at her, hoping to win her sister over, but all she gets is a hard stare in response. That’s not going to get her anywhere. She changes tactics, pouting over at Lena, hoping to garner her sympathy and protection. “I just want to come and sit with you guys.”

Lena shakes her head. “We won’t be long. Why don’t you head back to the med bay and we’ll come and join you soon?”

“If you’re going to be done soon, I might as well just hang out with you guys until you’re done.” Kara bats away the two sets of hands attempting to steady her and usher her back towards the med bay.

Shaking her head, Lena sighs. “Come on. We’ll be ten minutes tops, and we’re just doing boring planning anyway. We just want you to heal as quickly as possible.”

“I know.” Kara swallows harshly and lowers her voice, talking through gritted teeth. “I just don’t think I can heal very well when my ex is busy talking shit about all of our choices right outside the med bay where I have to listen to him bitching.”

Alex rolls her eyes. “Of course he is. Kara, what did you ever see in him?”

“A partner whose nose I wouldn’t accidentally break.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Lena’s eyes widen.

“It doesn’t matter.” Alex waves her off nonchalantly. “I’ll handle it, Kara. I’ll walk you back to bed and then you won’t have to worry about him, ok?”

Kara’s shoulders drop and she catches Lena’s hand. “Will you come sit with me when you’re done?”

“Of course I will. I won’t be long.”

Kara’s pout disappears, her face brightening like she’s just stepped outside on a sunny day.  “Good, see you soon.”

“See you.” Lena waves her off, worry building in her chest when she notices just how unsteady she is on her feet as Alex guides her away.

-

“Just keep your mouth shut, Mon-El. Now isn’t the time for you to come waltzing in acting like you know everything because you’ve been in the future for a whole five minutes.”

“I just happen to have read the history books, and I know that Luthors just happen to be on the wrong side of history.” Mon-El’s indignant tone cuts through the air and into the med bay, making sure that Kara won’t get any rest today.

“I’ve literally never seen you read a book before.” Winn’s confused voice at least brings a smile to Kara’s face. She’s missed the guy, even if he can be a little annoying and is terrible at keeping her secrets.

Mon-El’s offended gasp rids her of that momentary joy. “I once read Romeo and Juliet. Just ask Kara. There’s your proof, and so what if I haven’t read any history books? I still know that the Luthors aren’t good people. Why are you people acting so dense?”

A loud slap rings through the air, the sound making Kara wince. That was definitely an Alex slap, and Alex slaps are spicy, to say the least.

“What was that for?”

“For one, I know you’ve read that book, and you defiled it by writing nonsense all over the pages, and secondly, we’re not the ones acting dense. You’re the one being prejudiced against someone you don’t even know. You’d think the prince of Daxam would know that your family doesn’t define your beliefs or your morals. That is unless you’ve gone back to your slave-owning ways?”

Kara can just picture him shaking his head cartoonishly and backing away from Alex, trying to escape her harsh words. “Of course not! I would never do that.”

“But you did. Does that mean you’re still a bad person? Does that mean that because of who you are, you’ll forever be a bad person?”

“No! I’m good! I saved the world.”

“So has Lena, but you’re too busy calling her out for actions that aren’t hers that you can’t see that you’re only hurting the people around you. Kara is still healing. She got very badly hurt by Lex and Lena is the one that saved her. Lena protected her. Lena is the reason she’s still alive. You’re just the person stressing her out so badly that she keeps leaving the med bay just to get away from you and your incessant whining. Pull yourself together before I send you back to the future by whatever means necessary.”

If Kara were a betting woman, she’d put money down saying that Mon-El is quivering in a corner looking like a kicked puppy right now. She’s not entirely sure what she saw in him before. Sure, he was kind of like having an excitable border collie around. Cute at times but so energetic and chaotic, he leaves nothing but damage in his wake. Unfortunately, what she saw was his potential to serve the herd. The herd being the people of Earth.

“Let me go apologize to her.” She hears him say, sadness coating his words.

“She does deserve an apology, but you’ve kept her up long enough with your bullshit. Move into another room away from here where you’re bothering her and let her rest. She needs to sleep and recover, not listen to you acting like you know best for everyone around you.”

“But—”

“No buts, get your ass up and get out of here. I don’t care where you go, but you’re not going anywhere near either Kara or Lena unless you have my permission. Understand?”

A silence follows that makes Kara nervous, anxiety bubbling in her chest.

Alex clears her throat. “Understand?”

“I got it.”

“Good.”

Footsteps echo as the three of them filter out of the room and further away from her until she can’t hear them at all. She kind of wishes that her powers weren’t still gone. Clearly, the kryptonite caused a lot of damage if she solar flared, but she’s kind of grateful. There’s no impending crisis right now, which means she has to be on edge without them. She can just enjoy the moment without overthinking it too much. That’s something she doesn’t get to have often, and she intends on basking in the glow of not having the pressure of the world sitting heavy on her shoulders.

She lets her eyes slip closed, but just as she starts drifting off with the warmth of the sunlamps keeping her nice and toasty, she hears footsteps return and with those footsteps comes dread. She knows those footsteps.

“Kara?”

She keeps her eyes closed, praying he’ll get the hint and leave her alone.

“Psst, Kara.” He tries again.

Still, she makes a conscious effort to keep her face relaxed to not give away the fact that she’s awake.

Then her shoulder is grasped and she’s being shaken hard enough to make her gasp out in pain, her eyes finally popping open.

“Ah, fuck!” She grabs at her wounds, now thoroughly pissed and in pain. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I just need to talk to you.”

“Like fuck you do.” Lena’s sharp voice comes from the doorway. “I don’t know what was running through your obviously pea-sized brain, probably nothing of substance, but you’ve got some wires crossed. You just hurt her and woke her up for no good reason when I know that Alex just kicked you out of this part of the Tower.”

“With all due respect, this is between Kara and me.”

“Kara and I.”

“What?”

“It’s Kara and I, not Kara and me. If you’re going to start talking shit, at least be grammatically correct about it.”

Mon-El’s fists clench, and he turns fully towards her, standing directly between Kara and Lena. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? You’re just like him, and you’re only going to hurt her.”

Lena’s eyebrow raises, her face nothing short of icy. “Like you just did?”

“You didn’t see what happened. She’s not hurt because of me.”

“So she just yelped in pain from what? Just lying there?”

“Must have done.”

Lena shakes her head as she lets out a short laugh. This guy is a piece of work. She takes a step back and turns her head towards the door. “Alex!” She shouts at the top of her voice.

Just like that, Mon-El turns white. He might be a lot stronger than the average human, but if there’s one person he’s scared of, it’s Alex, and he just went behind her back to do exactly what he’d been told not to do.

Lena can hear Alex’s hurried footsteps getting louder and louder as she approaches, drawing closer rapidly as Mon-El gets visibly more anxious with each step, his hands gripped into tight fists. At the same time, his eyes dart around the room in an attempt to find a way to escape.

Alex storms into the room, not knowing what’s waiting for her but intuitive enough to know that whatever it is, it’s not good.

She spots Mon-El facing off with Lena and knows right then and there that this isn’t going to be a pretty fight. “Who wants to tell me what in the actual fuck is going on?”

Lena clenches her jaw, remaining silent. She wants to see what kind of shit this complete and utter asshole is about to spout.

Mon-El does something Lena wasn’t expecting. He squares up to Alex, his shoulder back, his spine straightening and his fists held firm at his sides as he glares down at the redhead. “She’s dangerous and Kara’s not safe around her. I was doing what I had to in order to keep her safe. She can’t be here if you’re allowing someone like that to be around her. Look at what her brother just did; she could kill her at any moment, and the only one to blame would be you because you let it happen.”

Alex doesn’t hesitate to react. Using her Hand of the soldier, she summons up a boxing glove lined with lead and hits him squarely in the face, knocking him back and right onto his ass.

He cries out in anguish when blood starts to pour from his nose, not broken, unfortunately. “What the fuck, Alex?”

“Stay the hell away from us, Mon-El. I told you to stay away, and yet here you are, coming back where you’re not welcome to accuse someone you don’t know of something they’re incapable of doing. You’re a mess. You’re dangerous. Get the fuck out.”

“You’re not going to ask her what happened?” He throws his hands in the air. “You don’t want to ask her what she did? You seem to like attacking me, but you haven’t even got the full story.”

Alex sighs, dematerializes the boxing glove and folds her arms before turning to Lena. “Is there more to the story, Lena?”

“Yes, he grabbed her and hurt her.”

Alex’s eyes darken instantaneously. “Brainy!”

The Coluan comes scuttling in quickly. “How can I help?”

“Get this piece of shit out of the Tower now before I kill him.”

There’s the barest hint of a nod before Brainy pulls Mon-El off the floor and ushers him to the door.

The Daxamite doesn’t go easily though, pushing back against Brainy’s hands to turn back. “I was getting her out of here because you’re not keeping her safe.”

“I suggest you leave very quickly because I estimate that the next weapon Alex materializes won’t be a boxing glove.”

Mon-El snarls before huffing his way out the door, barely turning his head to spit out one last line as he leaves. “You’re going to regret this when she turns out to be exactly like her brother, just you wait.”

Lena shakes her head at the man, infuriated by his saviour complex and need to villainize her when he doesn’t know a single thing about her other than her last name.

Her gaze meets the side of Alex’s face and she’s shocked by the amount of pure rage she sees there before she remembers that she just told her that he hurt Kara. Kara, who she needs to check on. She turns quickly, rushing to Kara’s side, panicking as she finds the woman on her side, her back to the door. She’s curled in on herself, her hands thrown over her ears protectively and her knees to her chest.

“Kara?” Lena round the bed, crouching next to her so her eyes are in line with Kara’s closed ones. They’re shut so tightly little lines are spreading across her face from the force.

She reaches out carefully, her fingertips just barely brushing against the cowering woman’s wrist. The tiniest bit of pressure causes her to rear back and pretty much fling herself off the bed, landing on the floor in a pile of useless limbs.

“Kara!” Lena cries out, rushing to get to her side. Her eyes instantly rake over Kara’s body in search of injuries. “Are you ok?”

Kara’s hands remain over her ears, but now her eyes are wide open, looking like they might pop right out of her skull at any moment.

“Kara, you’re ok. I promise you, you’re ok.” Lena creeps closer, afraid to touch her in case she reacts badly again.

Alex sprints into the room, and it takes Lena a second to realize that she must have made sure that Mon-El really left this time, or else she would have been in here with them a lot sooner.

“Alex, I don’t know what’s happening. She was on the bed, but when I touched her wrist she threw herself off the other side to get away from me. I don’t know what to do.”

Alex holds her hands out in front of Kara, moving slowly so she can clearly see her intentions. Her hands slowly descend to land on Kara’s forearms, and Lena watches with rapt attention.

Alex’s eyes flicker between Kara’s and Lena’s for a second before she addresses Lena whilst looking deeply into Kara’s eyes. “She’s alright, Lena. She’s going to be just fine. She’s just panicking and overwhelmed.”

Kara stares back at Alex, unblinking and seemingly frozen. Lena can’t help but find it a little odd. Her breathing appears normal, if not a little deeper than usual, but she’s not gasping for breath, not struggling against whatever is happening. She’s just embracing it and riding her way through it.

“What’s happening, Alex?” Lena whispers.

“She’s fine,” Alex responds in a hushed voice, carefully prying her hands down and away from her ears. “She’s just fine.”

“Alex?” Kara whimpers.

“I’m here,” Alex reassures, taking that as her cue to pull her sister into a hug. “Both me and Lena are here and we’re not going anywhere. I promise.”

Lena nods despite the fact that Kara can’t see her face. “We’re not leaving, Kara.”

Tentatively, she reaches out to press her hand to the centre of Kara’s back and lets out a heavy breath of relief when she doesn’t shy away.

They sit like that for several long minutes. Alex holds her tightly while Lena strokes her hand up and down the centre of her back in a slow, purposeful rhythm, completely predictable. Then, Kara leans back, sniffling a little and wiping her eyes before tears can fall. “Thanks.”

“Are you ok?” Lena murmurs.

Kara nods shakily. “Yeah, sorry. It just…I was…I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to know,” Alex says, standing up and pulling Kara with her, urging her to get back on the bed. “Lie down. I’m going to have to check you over.”

“I’m good.”

“I’m sure you are, but I’m not going to stop worrying until I’ve seen it for myself, so just humour me, alright?”

“Ok.” Kara doesn’t put up a fight, and it’s clear that she isn’t in the right state of mind to be able to for some time yet. “That’s ok. Lena, will you stay with me?”

Lena moves to her side, taking her hand. “Yeah, I’m here.”

Kara hums. “Can you stay with me tonight? I don’t want to stay here alone, and I don’t think Alex will let me out of here yet.”

Lena had to stop herself from agreeing, guilt already building up in her chest, heavy and uncomfortable. “I can’t, I’m sorry.”

A heavy silence fills the room.

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry, Sam called and she can’t put off everything going on with Luthor Corp any longer. I have to go or else the company could fall into my mother’s hands, and she’s just as bad as my brother.”

Kara blinks slowly before tightening her grip on Lena’s hand. “You have to go then. I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Just call me?”

Lena’s eyebrows pinch together in worry. “I’m sorry, Kara. If I could stay, I would. I don’t even want to go. If I could just leave it and not have anything to do with Luthor Corp or anything to do with the Luthor name at all, I would. I really would.”

“I know.” Kara forces a smile, one that both Alex and Lena can see through.

“I’ll look after her and stay with her.” Alex squeezes Lena’s arm, seeing the conflicting emotions hiding behind emerald eyes. “You do what you have to do and then come back to us, alright?”

Lena hums her agreeance and raises Kara’s hand up, kissing the back of it softly. “I promise I’ll be as quick as I can. This is my home now. National City is my home and I don’t really want to leave.”

Kara holds their joined hands on her belly, her free hand holding onto Lena’s wrist, preventing her from leaving, and Lena’s not about to pull away. Sam can wait a while longer.

Inevitably, she’ll have to go, but she’s happy to stay for as long as she can in the meantime.

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