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wannabe-fic-writer · 4 years ago

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All Over Again - Chapter 8

Summary: What was lost can be found.

Warning: 18+ Smut, Language, Violence.

Here’s another holiday chapter. Happy New Years to all! Enjoy!

Ch. 7

* * * * * *

You tap your fingers against the side table, eyes on the tv but not actually paying attention to what’s playing.

Due to the carpeted hotel floor, you don’t hear her approaching, which gives her the perfect opportunity to take you in. Green eyes roll over your seated form, a simple yet classy outfit on your body, tones of silver and black coloring it.

Her stare broken when her gaze lands on your face and she finds you already looking back at her.

Through a smile, you tell her,“ Miss Luthor you are breathtaking.”

You push yourself up off the couch and round it to stand in front of her. A gentle hand raises, your thumb running over the pink tint of her cheeks.“ Ready?” You ask softly.

With a nod from her you both turn to leave. Only for Lena to shake her head and tug on your hand. She drops your hand, leaving a frowning you at the door of her room, and then returning a minute later.

“I’ve noticed you aren’t a fan of coats. While that’s fine in NC, it’s currently snowing and I’d hate for you to be sick if you aren’t already.” She teases even though she’s serious.

Over the past few days, she’s seen the way you leave without even considering grabbing a jacket, as if it isn’t winter in New York.

Smiling sheepishly, you mutter a thanks, and shrug into the coat she’d offered. You don’t dismiss how it fits your overall style perfectly and it’s your size. Then again, you aren’t surprised, Lena pays a great attention to detail.

“Now we’re ready.” As you’re leaving out Lena can’t help but smile at the slightly embarrassed look on your face, nor can she help leaning up to press a kiss to your warm cheek.

It’s not a long walk from her hotel to the restaurant. You thought it’d be nice to take in everything tonight as opposed to driving by all of it.

New Years Eve always gives an exciting and contagious air to NYC and it would be a shame to miss that, especially since Lena isn’t here often.

When she notices the big group of people heading down the sidewalk, she uses that as an excuse to press closer to you. Her arm loops around yours, other hand lacing with your fingers. You smile down at her, a feeling of pride growing inside you at the thought of making her feel safe. And you make sure she sticks close even when they’re long passed, until you’re at your destination that is.

Confirming your reservation with the host, you wait for him to pull it up and then guide you both back to a table. Admittedly you’re noticed by a few people, some who recognize you as an Avenger and others who know Lena. You both ignore the looks, though it isn’t hard when the only people you care about in this moment are each other.

Luckily your waiter arrives quickly, giving you water and taking your drink orders.

The sound of loud cheers and noise makers grab your attention. A group of people then walk by the window, just like the ones you’d passed, there are gold and silver hats on their heads, the number of the new year decoratively placed on each. Their laughter and conversation loud as they pass by.

Your eyes moving away at the soft touch on your fingers. E/c lifts to green and you smile.

“Sorry,” you’re quick to say. Shaking your head and giving all your attention back to the woman across from you.

Lena’s smile matches yours as she says,“ it’s okay. I imagine it’s hard not to be at least a little distracted.” She glances out the window as well, taking in everyone outside and all their festive spirits.

Still looking at her, you remember when Lena told you she’d be staying for the week you couldn’t have been more thrilled. Especially seeing as the news came on the back of Bruce’s and Natasha’s engagement, which you have yet to decide how you feel about. Honestly you hadn’t had a chance to think about it really. Instead, you’d been soaking up every second you could with Lena.

Over the last seven days, outside of you handling Avengers business and her handling L-Corp business, you’d been on a total of four dates. Taking her to your favorite coffee shop, to the restaurants she wanted to try and the ones you loved, and the ice skating rink the city seasonally sets up at the park not too far from the compound.

Which all brought you to now, your fifth date, on New Years Eve. Lena would be leaving early in the morning but you’re choosing not to think of that until necessary.

“Where do you go?”

Pulled from your thoughts, you look to the CEO with a sheepish smile,“ sorry.”

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth as she watches you, her smile still in place.“ You don’t have to apologize. I just wonder what’s on your mind sometimes. You space out a lot.”

“I- well, I was thinking about you,” you absentmindedly twiddle with her fingers, her eyes glancing down at the action as you continue to look at her,“ I couldn’t have imagined a better way to spend the last few days.”

Lena saves the comment that instantly pops in her head. It’s far too soon in your relationship to be making suggestive comments. She chooses, instead, to say,“ me either. I’ve loved getting to know you, like this.”

Your eyebrow quirks, a little smirk tugging on your lips,“ like this? How is this exactly?”

The blush that rushes up Lena’s cheeks is incredibly cute. But it doesn’t stop her from replying,“ romantically. This side of you is-”

“Unbelievably charming?” You wiggle your eyebrows playfully making Lena giggle. You’re sure that sound alone could save your life.

“Not what I was going to say but true. As much as I love all of you, your new found romanticism is one of my favorite parts. While I knew you were sweet before, admittedly, you’ve taken it to another level-”

Lena’s statement continues but you’re stuck on those five little words: I love all of you.

Did she mean that? Or was it just a random choice of words?

Do you love her?

Honestly, you’re falling. There’s no way you could act as if you weren’t, if you did that’d just be denial.

Since the beginning it’s been something about Lena that drew you in, each passing second with her led you to the realization that it’s not just one thing. Everything about her left you speechless and completely taken.

Is it far fetched to think that you both love each other? The romantic aspect of the relationship may be new but you’ve known her for months now.

When you pull yourself from your thoughts this time Lena is already looking at you, her lip settled between her teeth.

“Did you mean to say you love me or am I reading into that?” You blurt, no longer wanting to be the type to push things aside or avoid them.

Lena’s mouth opens and snaps shut quickly. Green eyes take you in: your soft e/c eyes full of uncertainty and a love you hadn’t verbalized, fingers of one hand still absentmindedly playing with hers as the other picks at a napkin, all the while the tablecloth moves just a bit as your leg bounces.

Her shoulders relax as she understands why you asked, then she smiles,“ I meant it. Truthfully I’ve felt it for some time now.”

“I love you too.”

She jokingly asks,“ was it at first sight?”

“Nope.” Her loud laugh, at your quick and honest response, grabs a few people’s attention. You couldn’t care less. Not when Lena looks so incredibly happy.“ I’m just saying. I found you very interesting and very beautiful. But there was far too much going on with me to even consider loving someone at the time.”

“Did it have to do with whatever your relationship was with Miss Romanoff?”

Of course Lena hadn’t missed the awkward stares between you and the ex-assassin during the proposal.

Chuckling quietly, you nod,“ I had yet to let go of hurt feelings. But we’ve talked and I’ve learned to move on.”

A look flashes through Lena’s eyes. One you recognize almost instantly, as it’s how you looked at her when you first saw the way she and James interacted with each other. She looks away, the bread plate in front of her suddenly more interesting than anything else.

“This isn’t-” she cuts herself off to think, settling on asking,“ I’m not some rebound am I?”

“God no.” You give the hand you’re still holding a gentle squeeze, leaning down just a bit to catch the CEO’s eyes, then offering the most sweet and reassuring little smile you can,“ I would never do that to you, or anyone for that matter. I know this is still new but it’s real.”

“Yeah?”

Maintaining eye contact, you raise her hand to your lips and press a gentle kiss to her knuckles,“ I’m very serious. You are not a rebound, in any way.”

Finally, you get her to smile again, and it’s like a breath of fresh air.

The smile stays in place over dinner as well. Stories are traded between you two about the team, her friends, and your family. Lena learns, from the bit that you mention, that your mother wasn’t really around. Why? You have no idea and you never talked to your father about it. It’s now one of those things you wish you’d done before he was gone.

After dinner, as opposed to having dessert at the restaurant, you decide to make something for Lena back at her hotel. So you make a quick stop at a little grocery store and get back before it’s too late.

With the Time Square ball drop on the tv, and both of you in some more comfortable clothing, you set to making the dessert.

Lena rests against the counter, arms crossed as she watches you and sips from a glass of wine.

“I must say, I’m surprised you didn’t want to be down there yourself.” She speaks of the ball drop.

You shake your head,“ no. We would’ve needed to be down there incredibly early and even then it would’ve been chaotic. And most importantly, I’d rather be spending this time with you.” A slight smirk forms at her blush.“ Taste?”

She nods, ignoring the spoon in the bowl, and instead swiping her finger through the mix. E/c follows the way her lips wrap around her chocolate covered finger, hollowing in the slightest as she sucks the sweet mix off.

At this point you’re openly staring, the emotions her actions stirred inside you clear in your eyes. The thought to mask it crosses your mind but it’s flittered away just as her tongue runs across her bottom lip.

Clearing your throat, you force your gaze away from her. With you looking at the bowl, you miss the way Lena smirks at you.

She saw the look in your eyes, quite honestly it did something to her. Something that made her shift just to get a bit of friction between her legs. One look from you and she was ready to risk it all.

Then again one little action from her and you were ready to do the same.

However you both manage to control yourselves. Your distraction coming in the form of making the dessert and Lena’s coming in a phone call from Kara.

Lena’s blonde friend is obviously at least a little intoxicated. Her excited voice sounds loud through the tiny speaker and you chuckle.

“She’s wasted.” You mention to Lena who immediately nods, moving to your side and holding the phone between your ears.“ Heyyy Kara.”

The woman gasps,“ Y/N!!” A small chuckle comes from you at the woman’s excitement.“ I miss you! When are you coming back to NC?”

A grimace covers your face,“ I’m not sure KD, might be a minute, but I am going to come back.”

“You better,” her pause makes you and Lena frown, but it doesn't last long,“ since you and Lena are dating now.” She giggles.

The look that passes between you and Lena is pure amusement. Plus the slight blush on Lena’s cheeks.

Using the last few minutes it takes you to finish up the dessert, Lena talks to her best friend, making a promise to something before hanging up.

“All done?” The brunette asks, pocketing her phone and facing you fully.

With a sprinkle of powdered sugar and the decorative placement of strawberries, you tell her yes. Chocolate lava cakes in hand, you go with Lena into the living room.

“I’ve only made these a handful of times so, if it’s not as good as my cheesecake, I’m blaming it on that.”

Lena laughs softly at your words,“ I’m sure it’s incredible.” She accepts the spoon from you and settles on the edge of the couch.

For a number of reasons, you watch her take the first bite, and your heart legitimately skips a beat at the low moan she gives. She had to know what all her little actions have been doing to you tonight, right?

“5 minutes.” She speaks, pulling you from the trance she’d pulled you in.

“Okay, one second,” you hop up, doing a short jog back to the kitchen to grab the single bottle of champagne you’d bought.“ Can’t possibly bring in the New Year with anything else.”

“Agreed.”

In no time at all, you have the bottle of champagne open, pouring the bubbly alcohol in two glasses, and handing one to Lena.

Suddenly you pause after sitting and the CEO notices. Her eyes take in the look in your eyes.

“Hey,” her hand rests just above your knee,“ what is it?”

Your eyelashes flutter as you blink a couple times, gaze finally focusing on Lena. Truthfully you’d been a little up in the clouds. Holiday’s always make you think of your father. It’s not like New Years was some huge deal to him either, but just having spent it with him every year for most of your life is enough.

“I was just thinking about my dad. Something about the holiday’s makes me miss him more than usual.”

She nods along,“ did you have any special traditions for New Years?”

“Not really,” you shrug,“ mainly, we would make one resolution with each other. It was our way of making sure we went through with it.”

Lena’s eyebrows raise expectantly, a little smile appearing,“ let’s do that then. Share your resolution with me and I’ll share mine.”

From the look on her face you know she’s one hundred percent serious about it. And quite frankly you’re more than happy to be doing that again.

“Okay, um,” it takes you a moment to think of something,“ my resolution is to get the power core working smoothly and help at least one village or tiny town.”

As if she wasn’t already taken with you, your words remind her of how incredibly generous you are, and she falls further.

“Mine is to travel, for fun. I haven’t been on an actual vacation in years.” She admits and for just a moment you can almost see the stress she’s under.

In that moment you decide that if you can find the time to take Lena on a vacation, you just might.

Your conversation leads you right up to the last 30 seconds of the year. Through the tv and the walls, you can hear the loud counting down of other people. The ball inches closer and closer to the bottom with each second.

With the final second of the year: Happy New Year is shouted loudly, the ball finishes its descent, cheers and noisemakers sound through the streets of New York. All while you lean over and press a lingering kiss to Lena’s soft pink lips.

The feeling of her lips pressed to yours and her hand cupping the side of your neck makes warmth spread over you entirely. That coupled with the obvious love passed through the kiss, you couldn’t imagine a better way to bring in the New Year, nor anyone you would rather be with.

* * * * * *

Taglist: @username23345 @depressed-bi-bitch @fayhar @trikruismybitch @marvel-wlw @aznblossom @chicken-wang09 @bitchtits15 @coxmicbabygirl @blackluthxr @starlingelliot

#lena luthor #lena luthor x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #dcu #dcu x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #reader insert #all over again

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dongiovannaswife · 3 years ago

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Tinta, música y tu sonrisa.

CW: suggestive bits but nothing explicit, food/eating, all the stuff that comes with tattoos, death mentions., philosophical talks (?) mentions to past trauma and abuse and small medical talk (one scene). poorlyproofreadedsorrybutimkindasadtodothat

References: Aloe vera tattoo ask.

MASTERLIST.

The sound of baby giggles makes her ears peek as soon as she steps into the kitchen, bare feet padding through the floor when she does so.

Dante and Jovi munch into their favorite puree —banana— as Giorno hums, intentionally loud and off tune in order to make them grin as they attempt to finish their plates.

“Listen, Dante, Jovi;” Giorno doesn’t turn around, busy taking care of the pancakes, arranging two in a plate. “Mom’s gonna come anytime and we need to be ready when she does, ‘kay?”

“Ma’?” Dante interrupts and Jovi giggles, turning to his mom, out of nowhere.

“Yeah, buddy. Mamá. She’ll be here in no time.”

Jovi giggles louder, “Ma’!”

Freezing in his spot, Giorno slowly straightens his back, turning around and following the boy’s stares.

Lena stands by the doorframe, arms behind her back and a bright grin in her face.

“Well, hello. Were you planning something, gentlemen?”

Jovi shakes his head, blurting out multiple no’s in between small giggles as Dante pretends to hide his spoon; drops it on the floor and goes back to staring at his mom. Walking up, she chuckles as she kisses Jovi’s forehead, making him calm down and lean into her touch. Reaching a hand out, she takes Dante’s spoon from its spot, giving it to Giorno and receiving another one, cleaner than the last.

“Daddy’s right, boys.” Taking a seat between both boys, she fiddles for a moment with her shorts, trying to get the fabric down so her thighs don’t rub together and only then Giorno notices her outfit; black high waist denim shorts, white t-shirt and his denim jacket. Seeing this, and remembering the game he started earlier, he gulps down, turning around to take care of breakfast, listening to his wife talk with their boys.

“We’ll be out for a big part of the day,” the boys look up at her, listening intently. “Auntie Trish and Uncle Fugo will come to take care of you, but we want to be sure you’re well fed and okay before we go, okay?”

It has been said twins share an innate connection, but the Giovanna twins seem to be on another level, almost as if something else connects them: the way they turn to look at each other and then at her a surprising and interesting one.

And so they start swinging their feet as their efforts to finish their puree intensify, humming on time—just in the tune Giorno was doing before.

Lena shakes her head as a lighthearted chuckle escapes from her, turning to look up at her husband —Giorno’s already looking at her, leaning on the island with his cup of coffee in one hand and the other holding a fork with the last piece of a pancake.

Gulping down and taking a sip from his coffee, Giorno clears his throat, talking quietly right after, green eyes fixed on her black socks; curious. “You goin’ out on socks?”

Lena fakes a scowl, looking him up and down; black skinny jeans, navy blue t-shirt and black combat boots.

Giorno snorts, turning around to leave his empty cup on the dishwasher; turning around, he takes another plate with two pancakes and a cup of coffee. Walking up to the table, he puts both dishes down before he’s moving by the boy’s side. Lending his hand to help her stand up, he stays there waiting for her to fix her shorts again —with a light squeeze she pulls apart, walking up to the table and taking a seat before her breakfast., shooting him a smirk along with her response.

“Wanna match, vita mia? Why not matching outfits? ‘s been a while since we did it.”

Giorno hums, looking around the room pretending he’s thinking about it; Dante and Jovi play with his hands, making his fingers move side to side or curl, small words and blabbering mixing.

“I’d have to change my shirt, then.”

Lena hums, taking the first bite of her pancakes after cutting them with her fork and knife, a light blush covering her cheeks. Gulping it down and with Giorno’s attention fully on her, she motions at the door leading to the stairs, “I’ll take care of them, you go and change.”

Giorno smirks, sending a wink her way. Mumbling something to the twins, they grin up at their father as he stands, exiting the kitchen in long strides.

Standing by them now, fork with a piece of pancake in hand and the other reaching out to wipe some puree from Jovi’s cheek, Lena stands there, trying to finish breakfast between small talk with the boys.

The doorbell rings and she moves aside to try and see the door, but Giorno’s footsteps echo through the staircase as he descends, fixing his shirt at the last minute.

“Fugo, Trish —please come in.”

Trish Una and Pannacotta Fugo appear in the doorway and, as soon as the singer to It’s been a long time spots the twins, her eyes go wide and her grin shoots up to the sky. “Oh, my! Look at them!”

Fugo raises a hand in a gesture for her to calm down when the boys look up at the new persons, curious and bright but alert too. “Calm down, Trish. Don’t scare them.”

Walking up, Trish mumbles to herself, still amazed with the little boys before her. “Lena! I’m so glad to see you again” Leaning in for a friendly hug, both women sway from side to side as they greet each other.

Taking a seat before the twins, Trish makes herself at home, already taking care of them as Lena sits down to finish breakfast. “Okay, first off, you owe me a shopping evening; now, how have you been?”

Lena snorts, calming down to take a final sip from her coffee. “Straight to the point, aren’t you?”

Trish nods and Lena shakes her head, chuckling. “I promise we’ll go tomorrow, if you have time?”

Trish Una was no stranger to busy agendas —her career as a singer had been successful from the start, but along with that, her free time had been reduced to almost none. The pictures she had been receiving from the couple didn’t make justice to the beautiful boys in front of her.

“My day will be free, Lena. Don’t worry.” She tilts her head to the side, “May I ask where you are going?”

“Oh, I’m getting a tattoo.”

Trish’s mouth hangs open, excitement bubbling up in the shape of a bright grin that makes the twins giggle, distracted from the conversation between Giorno and Fugo with them about who was the best character in The Avengers. “What are you getting?!”

Lena winks, “Something that represents Giobaby.”

Trish smirks, “Nothin’ else?”

The way the Donna’s eyes shine as she shakes her head no says otherwise; and her mouth pronounces a lie, but Trish doesn’t care. “Nothing else, for now.”

The singer nods, humming approvingly. “Please tell me how he reacts.” She mouths, pretending she didn’t.

Lena nods, standing from the table. “If you excuse me, I’ll go and put my shoes on,” she directs her glance towards Fugo, “Sorry I didn’t greet you before, Panni.”

Pannacotta dismisses it with his hand, shaking his head softly. “Don’t worry, I understand.”

Lena nods, looking at Giorno now. “C’mon babe, we’re gonna be late.”

Giorno’s eyes darken for a second and Fugo clears his throat, uncomfortable with the sudden tension in the air.

As soon as it came it’s gone, however, and Fugo finds himself wondering what just happened; looking around, Trish coos at Dante, Jovi already on her hip.

Fugo looks up at his friend, nodding to him. Through the years, after that catastrophic way they met again after the events of that week, Fugo had come to find some kind of strength in Giorno, spending time together and chatting.

When Giorno had first met Lena and came back blabbering about a girl, Fugo had been there, sitting back lending an ear to his flustered friend.

And out of nowhere, both men had found out they thought of the other as a brother.

The way Fugo looks at Giorno shows it —at some point he had wished Giorno had been his biological brother, wishing they could have grown together; although he hadn’t been born in a loving family, he had a loving grandmother who didn’t hesitate to comfort him when everyone turned their back on him. Deep down, Pannacotta wished Giorno had been there so he too, could have had a little bit of comfort. Loving words that made him think of something as human and natural as crying not an unnecessary and useless thing.

But he could recognize the man beside him was no longer the inexpert teenage boss he had met back then, but a man who had learned from years and years of observing. A man who no longer saw his emotions as a threat. He was young, just like him, but he was wise.

“You should go now, GioGio.” He finally musters, gifting a soft smile to the taller man. “Good luck.”

And Giorno nods, patting Fugo in the back and walking up to Trish —he gives her a nod, leaning in to kiss the twin’s foreheads.

“Bye bye, Dante, Jovi.”

The twins wave at him, bright smiles and kind eyes. When Lena peeks into the kitchen to wave at everyone and kiss the boy’s cheeks, Fugo leans back, observing the scene with wonder.

Giorno had achieved so many things in so little time it was comforting —maybe, he could do it too.

“Wanna say goodbye to mama and papa?” Trish’s voice brings him out of his daze, and he walks up to carry Jovi on his hip as both stand on the doorway, holding the twins.

A dark green Hummer H2 emerges from the underground parking, leaving behind the sound of the mechanical doors closing and rounding the corner up to the front of the mansion.

Slowing down, the tinted windows roll down just to let the couple wave at the twins, who react immediately with giggles and waves of their own; Trish softens, mouthing a goodbye of her own before the windows close again and the hummer speeds up to the huge front doors, followed by a black Ford Endeavour. Once again, the vehicles stop at the doors, waiting for the guards —Pietro and Vittorio— to open the doors for them.

Pietro stands by the hummer’s side, leaning on the driver’s side and, after a moment of talking, he wheezes out loud, proceeding to wave at them to just go. When the cars disappear and the doors close again, Fugo turns to Trish.

“Let’s go back inside.”

“Yeah, I want to help them walk around!”

Fugo snorts, amused. “Oh, trust me. These two are ‘bout to run in no time —don’t be surprised if that day is today.”

Driving into the avenue after exiting the mansion’s road, Lena hums to herself quietly, asking right after. “What time is it?”

Giorno hums in a negative, shrugging with his eyes glued to the road ahead.

“Oh,” the Donna hums to herself again and Giorno steals a quick glance, “We have more than enough time.”

“Yeah, about that…” Giorno presses his lips together, eyes flickering to the rear mirror, noticing Westwood’s car still behind them. “There’s something you should know about him.”

“…Who?”

“The tattoo artist, Rob. He’s a stand user.” Stopping by a red light, Giorno looks over at his wife —the hand clasped around the gear shifter holds in a little bit tighter for a millisecond.

Helena looks over from the cars before them, blinking slowly; her calm demeanor a genuine one, surrounded by curiosity. “Okay, I have questions; what exactly can he do with his stand? And why didn’t you say it before, if you’ve been his client for years?”

Giorno sighs, relief washing over him. Looking over as soon as the green light comes in, he speeds up slowly, taking his time to let the traffic take its course again. “He can see tattoos that would suit you according to your life; the last time I saw him, when I got the bracelet in the twin’s honor, he said he could see a specific tattoo on my back,” a single fingers uncurls itself from the steering wheel, almost as if he’s asking for a moment to make a parenthesis. “He might suggest something else, but take it easy —when I met him I knew he was a stand user because the arrow told me somehow. But… that doesn’t quit the fact that you might feel vulnerable when he starts blurting out suppositions about your past.”

Helena hums, looking down at her lap, hands intertwined together.

The hummer stops by another red light and Giorno takes the moment to reach a hand out, letting a warm, large palm rest over the skin of her thigh. “It’ll be okay, tesoro —I just wanted to warn you.”

Lena looks up at him, gulping down. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He speeds up again, retrieving his hand from her thigh, “And about your second question; I don’t know. I thought I had said it before but I guess I forgot.”

“Don’t worry about that, now I know.”

Silence settles in, comfortable and warm.

Reaching out, Lena fiddles through the glove compartment for a second, seeming to look for something.

Finally pulling out an USB, she holds it up like it’s a treasure found in the ruins of some kind of Greek temple —a grin lifts the corners of her lips, reaching her eyes; and then she’s looking at him smiling innocently as she leans in to plug it in, selecting the few options needed until the music starts coming from the speakers at a comfortable volume.

Giorno lights up, smirking at her choice. “Really? Måneskin?”

“And why not?” she shoots back, smirk and all. “You know I love it when you sing this song.”

Giorno shakes his head, quoting the lyrics almost in a sing song tune. “Parla, la gente purtroppo parla. Non sa di che cosa parla.”

Helena sighs, humming in joy; a small blush covers her cheeks as she leans closer, mumbling. “Why are you so damn cute?”

Giorno smirks, letting out a small chuckle. “Am I? Have you seen yourself in the mirror?”

“Oh please, you’re far prettier.”

Giorno scoffs, “Liar.”

“Me? Nope, Mr. Don Husband, you are, like, far prettier than me for real.”

The red light comes in again and Giorno slows down, taking the moment to his full advantage.

“Is that so, pretty baby?” the Don leans in, reaching a hand out to cradle the back of her neck with his whole palm, lips brushing against hers when he speaks. “Then I should make it clear more often,” a quick peck, “That you’re just as attractive as you see me; why else would men look at you? You think they wanna challenge me? ‘s because they can’t help it. Too bad for them, ‘cause we both know we belong together, don’t we?”

“Mhm.”

“Can’t hear you, doll. What was that?”

She sighs, stealing a long kiss, “Does that answer your question?”

Giorno hums back, smirking as he pulls back just as the green light comes in and he speeds up again. His tone changes immediately when he rounds into a corner, coming into Naples’s less touristic zone. “We’ll get there in forty, want something? Water? Snacks?”

Lena hums, looking through the mirror with flushed cheeks. “Nope, I’m okay. You want something?”

Giorno shakes his head softly, turning in a corner.

10:56 AM.

Forty-six minutes later, the hummer comes to a stop before a big tattoo parlor; despite the dark color of the outside, the building stands out from its surroundings. At the top of it rests the sign in bright neon lights that flicker, illuminating the shop’s name as they turn in, and leaving only the initials on when they turn off.

Hoping off, and taking a moment to fix her shorts, Lena looks up at the letters, looking over at Giorno as he closes the door to the passenger’s seat, waiting for her by her side. “Did he really name his shop after BlessTheFall? For real?”

Giorno chuckles, taking her hand once she’s ready, taking the first step forward. “I knew you’d say that —yes, he did. In fact, he likes most of the bands you like, if not all of them.”

Lena grins, pushing the door open. “Let’s see.”

The inside of the store is much colder than the outside, with black walls covered in artificial animal skulls; some paintings hang around, all of them perfect copies of the most successful works from Francisco Goya. Right behind the counter, ‘Saturn devouring his son’ welcomes the couple into the empty shop.

The curtain to the artist’s stations in the back moves suddenly, making both look over just in time to see a man with pink hair, gothic clothes and multiple tattoos around his arms and neck come out —a bright grin on his face when he spots Giorno.

“Giovanna! It’s been a while since you came, man! But wait, —” he turns to Lena, squinting as he comes to a stop before the couple in the middle of the reception. “—Aren’t you the lady who scheduled the appointment at eleven?”

Helena nods, answering confidently. “Yes, I am.”

Rob brightens up as the pieces start to come together. “Oh, I see! You did say your husband had come here multiple times,” he looks back at Giorno, smirking up at him. “Man, you could have said you’d tell your wife about this place, I could have set something for her. A lady deserves only the best.” He finishes with an exaggerated bow.

Giorno shakes his head, pride shining through his being. “No need, she loves these kinds of things.”

Rob nods, enthusiastic. “Well, if that’s true then I’m flattered to have you here.” Gesturing at the couch in the reception, he walks up to the one with just one seat, he sinks into the soft cushion, letting his body slide through it until he’s sitting with his back and his legs are arched —his butt hangs in the air, but he doesn’t seem to care as he grins up at the couple, gesturing at the couch before him again. “C’mon, there are some things I’d like to ask before we start.”

Giorno hums, letting Lena guide him to the couch, where they get comfortable soon; his arm draped around her shoulders and her head on his chest.

“Okay,” Rob starts, looking around the studio first, noticing the hour in the clock hanging in the wall behind the couple. “You came exactly at eleven. I’m surprised. No client has done that, except for Giovanna, maybe.”

Giorno chuckles, “She’s really excited; Lena’s a fan of tattoos, but didn’t know what to get until now.”

“I understand,” Rob nods twice, looking down at his hands which are entwined above his stomach. “I like to have a talk with my customers before the actual season, Lena.”

As Rob seems to search his words thoughtfully, Lena’s attention falls on the tattoo on his eyelid —cursive font perfectly done but its message is not something she can read when Rob suddenly looks up at her, finding the words to the question he had wanted to ask. “What kind of person are you when it comes to this, ma’am? I get you might love body art, but there are two types of people when it’s about tattoos; first,” he raises a finger, counting physically. “The emotional; they want something special, something to remind them of their reason to be, or just to feel free after a rough time. I am one of those —I spent half of my lifetime trying to prove to my brother I was worthy of his attention, in the end,” he closes his eyes, pointing at his tattooed eyelid with the hand that is not counting on; the tattoo reads ‘perfect’. “I realized I am perfect in my own kind of twisted way.”

“Two,” he adds another finger to the count, dropping his hands on his stomach now, “The other type is the F-I-I-L-T-T,” he takes his type spelling it, eyes looking up at the ceiling in search of concentration, adding the explanation to the initials right after. “Fuck It I Like This Thing; might as well get it tattooed;” he looks now at the couple, smirking with humor on it, almost as if he’s remembering something. “Crazy shit, catch me?”

Giorno nods, already familiar with Rob’s speech —Rob had been the tattoo artist of all his tattoos; to him nothing about Rob was new. But he knows this is new for his wife and, although she’s open to all kinds of people, he still looks down at her, finding her expression surprising.

A soft smile lifts the corners of her lips as she looks at the paintings around them, thinking of her response. Soon enough, he sees the way she looks back at Rob, determined and strong. Like always. “Emotional, definitely. The lion I’m about to get represents him,” she looks now at him, making his chest tighten with the sudden warmth radiating off her. “When I met him I knew he was someone important, but as we got closer, I realized he had presence, he could stand in the middle of a crowded room and everybody would know who’s him, and they would bow down at him. Like a lion. He’s proud but not insolent, smart, and kind hearted.”

“The flowers represent something —someone— else.” Rob digs in, nodding. “We know.”

Lena looks on, frowning slightly. “Excuse me? ‘we’?”

Rob rubs the back of his neck, “Parenthesis time, ma’am.” He looks at Giorno now, “Are you safe to talk about that here and now?”

Giorno nods, gesturing with his head at the entrance, where Westwood leans on the glass, giving them privacy but keeping track of them, too.

Rob sighs, looking at Lena again. “I am a stand user. But I’ve always been agnostic, and although I know stands are not tied to deities, their existence is not something I can understand yet, even If I’ve been a stand user from birth. I use ‘we’ to refer to myself and my stand, because I can’t accept that my stand is a part of my own being… Yet.”

Lena nods, adding in a small, respectful tone. “But you do refer to it as ‘my’, Rob.”

Rob blinks. Once. Twice. And he laughs, nodding. “Yeah! You’re right! I guess…” he rubs the back of his neck, looking at Giorno now, grinning. “Man, this woman’s just too smart.”

Giorno chuckles, humored. “She is,” he rubs a finger on her arm, looking over at her just in time to catch Lena’s amused smirk. “But she has a point.”

Rob falls silent for a moment. “I guess I do accept it, unconsciously. I never realized that until now.”

Lena nods, humming. “It happens. The mind is still an enigma at some point —that’s why we aren’t done investigating and learning about it.”

Rubbing his chin with two fingers, Rob nods multiple times. “You’re damn right, ma’am. Now, may I ask about your future plans? Are you considering other designs? Because if not, we could recommend some to you.”

“Here we go.” Giorno mumbles, smirking as he watches the blue aura surround Rob, extending down until he disappears. Soon enough, the blue haze disappears and there stands, just by Rob’s side, a creature that resembles an Oni on its appearance; four arms and four legs, two faces and pencils held tightly on his fours hands.

“Mrs. Giovanna,” Robs chimes in, smiling. “This is my stand, Ic3peak.”

“I was told you can suggest tattoos?”

Rob nods, looking over at Giorno. “I see you gave her an introduction?”

“Indeed.” Giorno nods, moving a hand to gesture at Ic3peak as it walks up to Lena slowly, a pencil ready with three arms holding the parchment up. “I’m sure you understand everyone has things they need to tough out: to have someone mention them so casually might hurt.”

Rob nods, “We know.”

Ic3peak stops right before Lena, eyes boring into her for a second before it lets out a low grunt —nose cranky when it sniffs her; and then it stops, looking down at the parchment and lifting an expert hand up, tracing quickly.

Grunting again, the stands shows the design to its user first, and then to Lena.

A grinning mouth with a finger over it in a gesture of silence.

“Oh,” Rob starts the explanation, voice low with sadness. “This one… The classical silence; a life so demanding where a family made it clear that the game was about listening to everyone; the price to pay was craving to be heard.”

Lena shakes her head, “I’m sorry, Rob, but I wouldn’t get that. “I’m...” she looks on, although her gaze seems to go far away than that room. “Still recovering.”

Rob nods, speaking a bit louder so he can bring her back. “I understand! So, what about this next one?”

Icep3ak moves to stand between the couple, sniffing both now for a couple of seconds before it repeats the same action from before; this time, however, it discards the parchment onto the small bag hanging around its waist, retrieving another parchment were it quickly sketches something that’s shown to Rob in a matter of seconds.

Rob lights up, grinning like a schoolgirl. “Ah, yes! Your love!”

Ic3peak turns to show the couple the sketch of a small potted aloe vera plant.

“Aloe means healing, protecting and affection —I can see you’ve done a lot of healing together. Besides, just the way you look at each other makes me feel kinda jealous.” The tattoo artist clears his throat, proceeding with his explanation. “I’d suggest you get it on your neck —it’s gonna look pretty and you’ll get to match every time unless you wear turtlenecks, which in my opinion suck. But that’s not the point; whaddaya think?”

Giorno looks down at his wife again, finding her reaching out to Ic3peak. Ever so gently, she asks if she can have the parchment and the stand, with its eyes glowing a gentler shade of purple, gives it up.

“Baby…” she mumbles, leaning on his chest with the parchment in her hands; the sketch fully displayed for both of them to see. “I think this suits us.”

Giorno hums, tracing a finger above the ink almost as if he’s thinking about the way it’d look on both of them. Gazing at her again, he mumbles his answer. “What if we wait until this first tattoo heals? Besides, the neck is one of the most painful areas.”

“I know,” Lena hums, nodding to herself. She puts the parchment on her lap, careful with the way she does it. “I think this is a big yes.”

Rob nods this time, grinning. “You have my number, call me when you want. By the way, does he know?”

Giorno’s quick to reply, “Know what?”

Rob’s mouth hangs open in surprise —even his stand disappears suddenly. And he fiddles, moving uncontrollably until he manages to sit like a normal person and stand up, nervously walking into the back again. “You have something to talk about and I wanna give privacy sooooo! I’m leaving —” before he disappears through the curtain, he adds something else. “Just don’t do ‘the do’!”

When Ungrateful by Escape the Fate starts blasting from the back, Giorno turns to Lena, eyebrow arched in wonder and curiosity. “Is there something I should know, doll?”

Lena looks around, shrugging and smiling innocently. Pulling away, she stands up, that same smile and mischievousness present as she comes closer again.

Squinting slightly, Giorno moves along her, spreading his legs further so she can sit in one of his thighs only: without having to put her legs all across his lap (although he had wished so, the situation and place were not the right ones).

One of her arms ends up comfortably draped around his neck with the pads of her fingers resting against the ends of his hair, which rest by the nape of his neck. Her free hand snakes around his left arm, bringing it up to her face.

She inspects the tattoo around his wrist —two perpendicular black lines, united by one hydrangea in the outside of his wrist; there is enough space for a third line. The hydrangea is detailed enough to stand out from the simplicity of the two lines.

“Gio.” She calls and Giorno looks up from their hands, directly into her eyes. “Do you think this tattoo—” she brings his attention back to the tattoo around his wrist, pressing her open palm against his, “Would look good on me?”

The gears in Giorno’s head turn at the speed of light, realization failing into him with a deep, sudden; “Oh.” And a smirk makes its way to his lips, lifting the corners of them and letting his dimples stand out. Even the light in his eyes grows. “So you want to get this for the twins, too?”

Lena hums, grinning. Intertwining her fingers with his, she looks into his eyes again. “What do you think?”

“It’d look beautiful —not just because it’s you, but because of its meaning. If that’s how things are, then I’d be more than happy to see you get it too but…” he sighs, “Don’t you think it’s too sudden? We don’t know how you’ll do with the one on your thigh.”

She nods, looking around briefly before she’s looking at him again. “You’re right, but I’m positive I can take it.”

Giorno nods, unsure if he should protest, but knowing she has to test the waters first. It’s just normal for her to think so and if she can’t take it, Giorno’s positive she will let him know.

“Okay,” he nods, closing his eyes along with his nod. When his eyes open again, he looks back at her, giving her a soft, understanding smile. “I’m with you.”

Lena leans in, smiling and mumbling into his lips: “Thank you, babe.” Before delivering a quick and sweet peck to his lips.

“So…” Rob comes out, black gloves held tightly in their package and a grin stretched across his face. “Are we ready? I… Just got everything set up.”

Giorno nods and Lena stands up with Giorno following her. He stands before her, shielding her as she fixes her shorts again —masking his intentions with a genuine question.

“Rob, is it okay if I—”

“Yep, yep, Giovanna! You can be there, after all, it’s going to be a hard session; I estimate eight good hours, so!—” he closes his eyes, leaning sideways so he can ‘look’ at Lena, even if she’s done with her shorts. “What kind of music do you like, ma’am? When these kinds of long sessions happen, I like to play the client’s favorite music.”

Lena smiles and Giorno pats Rob in the back, letting him know it’s okay to open his eyes.

“Escape the Fate is okay for now —In fact, I think your music will be more than okay.”

Rob grins, chuckling as he gestures over at the artist stations.

“And Rob?”

“Yeah, Mrs. Giovanna?” he looks over his shoulder, looking back as soon as they make eye contact.

“Thank you.”

Rob shakes his head, smiling. “If there’s something this beast of man taught me,” he points at Giorno like it’s nothing, dropping his hand right after. “Is that being a gentleman costs nothing.”

“Most men think that will melt their masculinity.” Giorno comments, eyes momentarily glued to the perfect replica of ‘The Colossus’ by Francisco Goya, too.

Rob snorts, “Well, they can gladly fuck off. If you ask me, women deserve way better.”

Lena nods, agreeing silently.

“Well,” Rob stands aside, holding a black curtain up for the couple to come into the room first, “This is the Valhalla; the place AC/DC were talking about when they halfway to it; the emancipation of expression; the sexy bitch David Guetta was talking about; the Oasis from Ready Player One; the miraculous LadyBug wishes she could have; Gojo’s Domain Expansion… This is my station.”

Giorno and Lena look into each other’s eyes, puzzled expressions mending together as Rob comes in after them, dropping the curtain.

“Your… Station is cool, Rob.” Lena looks on, trying to find the right words to say after his sudden speech —even if she’s on it, she’s genuinely amazed with the manga panels from different series and franchises that cover every inch of the walls. In the center of it, framed in a deep green frame, Pink Dark Boy’s anime announcement poster. Its colors stand out —but the cherry on top is the noticeable firm at the corner.

“So,” Giorno grins, plotting. “Pink Dark Boy is your new hyperfixation?”

Rob grins, turning to the couple. “Yeah! I’m really excited about the anime!” he walks up to the poster, carefully patting it twice. “This bad boy was signed by Kishibe-sensei! ‘S my baby.”

“I see,” Giorno nods, shooting a compliant smile to his wife, whose expression is the same when Rob turns to both of them in a quick motion.

“Oh for fucks sake, you know him?!”

“Yep!” Lena speaks up as Giorno chuckles, nodding along. “He’s a good friend of ours.”

“I could always get you a signed manga collection, if you want to.” Giorno offers, sitting down at the couch, where his view of the tattoo chair is clear.

Rob sighs, grinning dreamily. “Dude, I could kiss you right now.” He raises a finger, imitating Jack Sparrow’s tone and voice. “But nope.” He drops the act now, gesturing to Lena and then at the tattoo chair. “I’d be forever grateful with you guys, this series means a lot to me… On a personal level, Kishibe’s work makes everything better.”

Lena nods, humming as Giorno listens only. “We understand,” she and Giorno share a look. “We’ll do our best to get you that, and probably more.”

Rob nods, going silent: however, he still walks around with a smile, getting ready.

“Oh,” he lights up, looking at Lena with a wide grin. “I will ask again because I am a compassive man; what kind of music do you like, ma’am?”

Giorno smirks, knowing the answer and predicting Rob’s reaction already.

“Metal, rock and its subgenres; in fact, I like a little bit of everything, but not nightcore.”

Rob claps twice, looking over at Giorno, just like he thought it’d be. “You just became my favorite customers!”

Giorno laughs —the sound rumbles through his chest as he throws his head back and his dimples stand out. His wife chuckles, shaking her head.

“’Kay,” Rob comes to a stop beside his laptop, which is connected to the studio’s speakers. “Anything to start? I’ll play a playlist with diverse music, but I gotta give you the honor for the first song, ma’am.”

Lena looks up, tracing her lip with a finger, deep in thought for a moment. “Let’s see… ‘RX overdrive’ by Crossfaith.”

Rob nods, typing. “Don’t know them, but I’ll do soon; anything else?”

Lena grins, looking at Giorno: he returns the smile, winking as he finishes her sentence.

“Motionless in white and she’ll be more than happy, Rob.”

Rob chuckles, “First; those guys are really good and two; please stop finishing each other’s sentences, it's cute but terrifying.”

The couple chuckles as the chosen song starts playing.

Rob takes the transfer paper with the design already there, coming to a stop before Lena and inspecting the table with the sealed inks and equipment before turning to take a look at the area he’s going to work in; and he nods to himself, mumbling. “Hmh, just gotta prepare the skin.”

Rob looks up, grinning as he looks down to cut open the glove’s packaging, taking them out and putting them on. “Alright, ready? I hope you had a proper breakfast, cause this shit’s about to get real.”

Lena nods, smiling. Turning to Giorno she gives him a thumbs up that he corresponds with the mumbling of a ‘you’ve got this.’

Six hours later, after a few breaks to take a deep breath, manage the pain, bathroom breaks and a food break, Rob leans back, sighing with a wide smile through his mask. “We’re done with this piece, Lena.” He takes a moment, still not used to calling her by her name.

Lena hums, sighing tiredly. “Good, are you still up for the other?”

Giorno stands up, coming to a stop a meter before them so he doesn’t contaminate anything, just in case. “Wait, are you sure you can take it?”

Lena nods, looking between the two males as she responds. “It didn’t hurt that much, but I did get tired from being in the chair.”

“Fair enough,” Rob looks back at Giorno, giving him a kind and calmer smile. “If she’s up to it, me too.”

Giorno looks back at Lena, nodding after a moment of looking into her eyes, noticing her strength and resolve.

“Alright.”

Rob nods, straightening his back, cleaning the area before putting on bandages.

“Okay, Lena. I must warn you first; the wrist does hurt. So…” he retrieves the paper with the transfer paper with the other design. “Feel free to ask for breaks; it might be faster, since it’s a smaller design and I already did it for your hubby over there; but I understand all people are different. Anytime you need a break, just say it.”

Lea nods, giving him a bright smile. “Thank you, Rob.”

‘Hail to the king’ by Avenged Sevenfold starts playing with its characteristic riff —and so Rob starts working on the next piece, a grin on his face and a sigh from Lena’s part as Giorno calls Trish in search of updates about the boys.

7: 23 PM.

“Come back soon! We can go out and drink something!” Rob waves, grinning and, gasping, he adds; “I wanna meet your twins, please let me know when you—” he looks at Lena, “Heal those tattoos. ‘Kay?”

Helena grins, bright and kind; “Of course, Rob!”

Rob nods, agreeing and, clasping his hands together, he tilts his head to the side, exaggerating his gestures. “And please, please, please let me tattoo you something that represents your relationship!”

“We will, Rob —thank you.” Giorno nods as he responds and Lena waves when the Hummer H2 pulls into the street followed by Westwood’s vehicle.

Silence settles in, filled only with the rhythmical tune of ‘Pray for me’ by The Weeknd as Giorno focuses on driving and Lena, by his side, looks down at the wrappings around her wrist and thigh.

Not so long after the The Weeknd’s voice fills the silence Giorno looks over, stealing a glance at his wife. Letting a smirk reach his lips as he looks on, he asks: “Looking good, hm, baby?”

Lena looks up, a sudden blush covering her cheeks and lighting up the few freckles under her eyes. “Yeah! I mean, I love them and… I think they suit me.”

“Of course you look good, Helena.” He slows down just so he can look into her eyes for a moment before looking forward, adding in a gentle tone. “You always look good, whatever you wear… Or don’t.”

Lena snorts, nodding. “Alright, I get it —I guess this is your way of asking what’s on my mind, right?”

Giorno’s smirk widens; a silent affirmation.

“I’m just…” she gestures around, vague and almost as if she’s trying to figure it out. “You know,” she grimaces, “These can get infected if I don’t take great care of them.”

Giorno nods, finishing her sentence for her, seeing her struggling. “You’re worried about an infection. But if I may say, in the hypothetical case you do it the normal way, then I’m sure you’d take care of them just right, because…” he gestures at her with his hand, putting said hand back into the gear shifter. “I mean; it’d be an irony for someone in the medical field to get that.”

“Woah, woah, hold on there, Giobaby.” She raises her hands up, confused and curious at once. “What do you mean by ‘hypothetical’?”

Giorno grins, looking at her through the corner of his eye. “Ups?”

“’Ups’ my ova—“

“Let me explain, doll,” he chuckles, low and full of fun. ��Every time I’ve gotten a new tattoo, Bocelli’s stand gets me something to make the healing process faster; say a normal person’s tattoo was gonna take a whole week in the healing process, mine takes less: four or three days. Doesn’t really hurt and the wrappings are not needed: just your normal hydration routine.”

Lena nods, shooting back a question. “And why did the twin’s tattoo heal in more time? Why didn’t Bocelli help with that one too?”

Giorno shakes his head, “The date... Coincided with one he’s still hurting over.”

Silence settles in again.

“I forgot.” Lena whispers after a while, looking through the window. Perhaps saddened.

“Hey—” Giorno murmurs, letting Gold Experience’s arm manifest and take the gear shifter as his hand reaches over, taking hers carefully. “It’s okay.” He looks on, bringing her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles carefully, avoiding her wrist so he doesn’t hurt her. “The thing is that Bocelli will come home today and help you heal them faster: infections are completely out of the way with this method.”

Lena nods, leaning over until her lips touch his cheek, holding his hand. Scooting closer to the edge of her seat, she takes a moment to unclip her seatbelt and sit at the edge of her seat just to lean her head onto the Don’s shoulder.

“Panni and Trish have been with the boys all day; do you think we can cook something to make up for that?”

Giorno hums, stopping by a red light and turning to her, he dips his head down, stealing a slow kiss from her. “Takeout or cooking night?”

Helena grins into Giorno’s lips, taking a kiss from him before she pulls back, putting her seatbelt back on. “Cooking night?”

“Cooking night. Arroz con leche?”

Lena nods, smiling —until a yawn interrupts her and she covers her mouth with her hand, straightening her back in an attempt to trick her system and forget about the sleepiness.

Giorno’s eyebrow arches, brushing his thumb over the back of her hand. “Why don’t you take a nap? I’ll wake you up once we’re home.”

“Mhm.” Giving him a small smile, Lena shits again, taking her —his— denim jacket off and turning again to lean her seat back, she unclips her seatbelt and shifts back again until she’s laying down into the seat, covering her legs with Giorno’s denim jacket.

“Babe.” Giorno chuckles in amusement, looking over as the red light comes again and he makes sure the flashers are on. “We can stop and let you climb into the back.”

“Mhm, ‘m okay here. Jus’ need a nap.”

“Alright, aright.” Intending to take the gear shifter with his own hand, Giorno’s heart melts when she grasps his hand, holding it as she drifts off.

Only then, when the silence in the car is evident, filled only with the soft murmur of the music in the USB coming to an end Giorno stops it, letting only a comfortable silence linger he notices the way the sunset has started to paint the buildings and people around in warm colors: from reds and oranges to yellows: everything’s bathed into strong and comforting colors.

Looking down to make sure his wife is not bothered by it, he instead finds a better image.

Features relaxed and hair sprawled under her head, it's only her hair the one under the warm light, turning into a mix of blond and red hairs framing her.

Like a halo, he thinks, before Westwood speaks up through the radio, bringing his attention back.

“My god, Lena, please write down that recipe! It’s so good!”

Lena chuckles, raising a finger in a ‘wait’ signal before she disappears inside, leaving Giorno and Bocelli with the twins and a confused Trish by the door.

“What is she doing?” Bocelli mumbles, glancing down at Jovi, who’s drifting off.

“You’ll see.”

Walking up to the door, Lena lifts a small container up —Trish reacts out of surprise, holding her hands forward and taking the glass container from Lena, she lifts it and inspecting its contents, her face lights up as soon as realization hits her.

“But Lena! I can’t accept this —I mean, is this okay for you?”

She waves it off, “Please accept it as a gift, plus, I’ll send you the recipe soon.”

Trish chuckles, shaking her head. “Okay, see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah! Send me a text to plan it all?”

“Sure!” Trish walks down the stairs, turning when she seems to remember something. “We gave them a bath, that’s why they are so sleepy!”

Giorno nods, letting a rare smile show. “Thank you, Trish.”

Trish waves goodbye one last time, walking down the stairs and into the backseat of Fugo’s car.

Waving them off, Bocelli stays by the door until Fugo’s Cadillac disappears from the mansion’s doors.

“Well,” the old man comes back in, holding the boy closer now that he’s asleep. “You should put them to bed so we can take a look at your tattoos and get Type O Negative to work.”

“Of course. And Enzo?” Taking Jovi from him, Lena gifts him a kind, warm smile.

“Yes, Donna?”

“Thank you for coming.”

Bocelli bows his head, sitting down on the couch —reaching up to the necklace hidden under his suit. Pulling it out, he holds both items between his fingers; a heart shaped locket and a ring.

“Lena.” Giorno calls and Bocelli looks up, startled with his presence. “I’ll put them to bed, you can take a shower just so you can be ready for the procedure; that would be the best, no?”

Bocelli looks up, almost grateful for Giorno —had it not been for his intervention, he’d be drowning in his memories.

“Yes.” He looks at Lena now, letting his necklace fall, unbothered about hiding it. “Just follow your artist’s instructions.”

She nods, walking up to Giorno and mumbling something before both walk upstairs.

“Well,” a green haze surrounds Bocelli as his stand, a group of small creatures dressed in green nurse uniforms appear around him and in different spots of the living room. “We’ve got work to do, Dermatologist.”

The chosen one stands up, running up from his spot on the coffee table and stopping by Bocelli’s feet, it jumps until it lands on his thigh, nodding frantically.

“Let’s wait for our patient, shall we?”

“Yeah, about that —I’m pretty sure the Foundation will need to look around for doctors and specialists.” Giorno’s voice is laid back as he speaks up and Lena gets to hear while she walks downstairs, dressed in a comfortable black silk nightdress.

“When the time comes I will lend her a hand, don’t worry.”

“Gentlemen, can we take a break from work?” Stopping by the couch Giorno’s sitting in, Lena smiles at the men as they look up at her.

“Of course, Donna. Let’s talk about your treatment instead —I have an update regarding this.”

Giorno gestures over, draping an arm over the back of the couch when Lena sits down by his side.

The Dermatologist jumps into Bocelli’s shoulder, bowing at the couple in a silent greeting while its user explains. “We’ve made this treatment effective enough to be able to heal overnight; however, the effect won’t kick in as it did before. Do we know what prolonged release is?”

“Yeah,” Lena speaks up. “When a dose of medication is administered but its release in our system’s slower, extending the period of administration. It can help when we want to reduce the possible side effects. Pretty effective.”

Bocelli nods, “That’s what we are doing.”

Giorno speaks up this time, not so versed in the medical language. “So this means she’ll get to heal overnight without having to be put to sleep right now, when your stand’s starts working?”

“Indeed, Gio.” The old man nods again. “If you agree, we can start now. I’ll leave as soon as we are done.”

Giorno stays silent, looking over at his wife; any decision she takes, he will support it.

Finally, Lena responds. “One condition; it’s late and I don’t want to risk any of you. Please stay over for the night —the guest’s room is there for you.”

Bocelli chuckles, eyes lighting up with the Donna’s kindness. “That’s fair. So,” The Dermatologist jumps from his shoulder and Bocelli’s hand is there for it to stand on his palm. “Shall we start?”

“Sure.” Shifting, unsure of what to do, Lena just watches as the small specialist runs up to her, climbing onto the couch and running up to her.

“First,” Bocelli scoots closer, inspecting the thigh where the lion’s head is. “This one. It’s a big piece, since it covers all your thigh.” He looks back, looking between them. “But nothing we can’t fix.”

The Dermatologist’s little hands inspect the area too, nodding after a moment. Calling for the nurses at the other side of the room, the small creatures rush over too, circling her.

After a moment of inspecting, the Dermatologist reaches a hand out to the closest nurse, who fiddles for a moment until another nurse passes a small potted cream.

Looking up at Lena, the Dermatologists motions her over. It gestures multiple times until Lena looks back at Giorno, unable to understand.

Giorno, in the same situation, looks over at Bocelli. “Something wrong?”

“Oh no,” the old man shakes his head. “It’s just warning you they will start the procedure now.”

“Oh.” Giorno and Lena nod, both in acknowledgment and realization.

The Dermatologist’s hands take a small portion of the cream, starting to apply it in circular motions; first in just a small area to see and taste for any side effects or discomfort. When it looks up and Lena nods in silent consent, it keeps going.

When both tattoos are covered and Lena yawns, leaning into Giorno’s shoulder, the old man hums in approval.

“There it is —it’s starting.” He looks down, accompanied by the Dermatologist, who nods and jumps in excitement.

“Thank you, Enzo.” Giorno’s free hand reaches out for a handshake that Bocelli accepts.

“Always a pleasure, Gio. Now,” he groans when he stands up, watching the Dermatologist and the nurse run up to him and disappear in a green haze. “If you excuse me, I am in need of a long night of sleep.”

“Of course, let me show you the way.” Lena pulls back, sitting straight so Giorno can stand up —until they’re cut off by Bocelli, who’s glancing at them through kind, warm eyes.

“No need, I know the way. Please take care of her and rest.”

Lena looks up, smiling through her tiredness. “We will, thank you. Sleep well, Bocelli. I hope the boys don’t wake you up at night.”

“Don’t worry about that, I love them as if they were my grandsons…” he trails off as realization hits him, but keeps going on trying to pretend he wasn’t taken off guard by his own comment. “I wouldn’t be bothered by them; if anything, please let me know if there’s something I can do for them.”

“Of course.”

By the time he goes back to bed after checking the security cameras, the locked doors, the guards and making sure the boys are asleep and safe, Giorno finally opens the door to their shared bedroom, closing it behind his back with a tired sigh.

Tiptoeing to the bed, he sits on his side, taking his shirt off and letting it by the bedside before he’s rolling into his side of the bed —an arm reaching out to her. Finding the warmth of her body and the deep curve of her waist, he pulls her closer, humming when she shifts to mend into his body, passing an arm around his hip.

Dipping his head down blindly, he gets to press a soft kiss against her temple, mumbling into her hair; “Lena?”

She murmurs some sort of acknowledgment, mixed words in two languages —loving and wondering, still.

Giorno shits, humming low as his mouth finds her neck. There, he presses another small lingering kiss; voice barely a whisper but oh so deep and tired at once when he mumbles. “I think there is something we left unfinished… This morning.”

Lena hums, agreeing as her arm runs up and down his hip and thigh, sincere caresses given through clumpy hands. “Mhm, ‘s right.”

“But…” he murmurs once again, rolling onto his back and bringing her along with him in a sudden wave of strength, wrapping her in his arms until he shifts again until he’s in the middle of the bed. Only then he lets go, keeping his hands on her back and hip, holding her there; Lena then shifts, getting comfortable on top of him.

Only when she hums approvingly he finishes his sentence. “We’re all worn out —might as well finish that later.”

“Please.” Lena barely pronounces, ear presses into the place his heart rests, lulled by the rhythmical tune of it.

Giorno hums again, giving into his need to sleep. With one last glance into the baby monitor and Lena’s sigh, he finally closes his eyes, falling into deep slumber.

#GioLena #read the warnings pwease ;w;#and do not let this floop it took way too long ;w;

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wizardofahz · 4 years ago

Text

Introducing Grim

A/N: Just a little bit of silly to get back into writing. This is a follow up to Fulfilling the Lie.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“I think someone’s going to die.”

The panic in Nia’s voice has Kara shooting straight up out of bed though she manages to stop before crashing into the ceiling. Still hovering in the air, she asks, “Did you have a dream? Are you okay? Where are you?”

It’s the middle of the night--3:52 AM according to her phone--which makes the dream scenario most likely. Hopefully that means Nia is safe at home. Still, Kara mentally prepares herself to change into her super suit and fly out the window.

“I’m at home,” Nia responds, speaking a mile a minute. “I dreamed that there was this big black dog, like you know the Grim in Harry Potter? The omen of death? And I think Alex was there, but I don’t-- I didn’t get the sense that she was in danger? But I don’t know. It’s the Grim, right? I keep thinking about Ron’s Uncle Bilius and how he saw a Grim and died. And I know that’s Harry Potter, but, I mean, the messages in my dreams come in symbols, right? So maybe my powers are finally trying to communicate with me in a language that I’ll understand, and maybe that means that someone else is going to die even though I saw Alex, and--”

“Oh,” Kara says once Nia’s words register. All the adrenaline dissipates from Kara’s body, and she sinks back down onto her bed. “No, you dreamed about Alex’s cat.”

“Oh thank goodness,” Nia sighs with relief. “I was really worried. Like I said, I didn’t think Alex was going to die, but I’d really hate to be wrong about that. You know how hard it can be to interpret my dreams.”

“I get it,” Kara says, and she means it. If there was any sign that something would happen to Alex, anything at all, and there was something Kara could do to stop it, she would. “I’m glad you called.”

“Me too,” Nia says with a shaky laugh. “All that freaking out, and it was just Alex’s cat.” A brief silence. “Kara?”

“Yeah?”

“Since when does Alex have a cat?”

Oh, right. After they left the animal shelter, their day had been a whirlwind of pet supply shops and cat-proofing the apartment, and with Alex and Grim’s matching lack of enthusiasm for attention, they hadn’t really told anyone other than Eliza, J’onn, and Kelly. Oops. Well, the cat’s out of the bag now. Almost literally. “Today, or I guess, technically yesterday. It’s a long story, but his name is Grim.”

“Okay,” Nia says in a tone that indicates that she doesn’t really understand but she’s willing to go along with it for the moment. “No one’s going to get hurt, and that’s what matters.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Kara mutters, thinking about the unfortunate mismatch between sharp claws and soft human flesh.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

...

Kara’s breakthrough moment with Grim comes entirely by accident.

Her mission for the evening is to keep Grim away from the kitchen while Alex and Kelly finish preparing dinner. Unaware that Kara is an invulnerable Kryptonian, Kelly had given her an apologetic look upon hearing her assignment. Kara doesn’t mind the teeth and the claws. She just hopes Grim doesn’t get too mad at her. She’s still trying to get on his good side.

“I’m sorry. You can’t,” Kara says, intercepting Grim as he wanders in the direction of the kitchen. She crouches in front of him and tries to redirect him. “Alex is busy. How about the cat tower? Want to climb on that instead?”

He does not.

After a few repetitions of this, Kara brings Grim to the couch, holding him in her lap as he tries to wiggle free. He meows his discontent and begins to claw at her.

“No, no, no,” Kara whispers quickly, grabbing a blanket and pushing it between them. “You can’t. Kelly doesn’t know.”

Normally accustomed to a Kara who’s willing to play scratching post, Grim looks up at her in consternation. He paws at her tentatively, testing her reaction. His claws sink into the blanket instead. He pushes into her and then pauses as if processing the feeling. He flexes, stretching his toes out before grabbing the soft material again.

Kara joins him, running her hands through the blanket as well. “I know. It’s nice, right?”

Grim begins to knead the blanket in earnest.

“They’re so cute,” Kara hears Kelly whisper from the other side of the kitchen island.

“Yeah,” Alex whispers back.

It’s one word, and a quiet one at that, but it’s so full of love and happiness. Kara knows how important family harmony is to Alex, and Grim is part of the family now. She knows, without Alex having to say anything, that Alex has been waiting for this moment.

She is going to hug Alex as soon as she can.

...

J’onn J’onzz is a cheater. Of this, Alex is convinced.

After meeting Grim, he initially keeps his distance, but after a while, J’onn seems to know exactly when Grim will tolerate being pet--not to mention exactly where he wants to be pet--and when he’s feeling antisocial. Alex has no doubt that J’onn is reading Grim’s mind.

Because of this, J’onn and Grim establish an understanding faster than anyone other than Alex.

That is until her mom arrives.

“Mom, this is Grim,” Alex says. Grim is currently in her arms for everyone’s safety and comfort, but Alex kneels and places him on the ground between them.

Eliza kneels opposite her. “Hi, Grim. It’s nice to meet you.”

Grim looks to Alex, who nods with approval. “It’s okay,” she says. “It’s just Mom.”

Grim takes a tentative step towards Eliza. She reaches out a hand to let him sniff her, and it’s not long before she’s allowed to pet him, scratching him gently behind the ears.

“What? How?” Kara whines. “That’s not fair.”

“Apparently Alex is only deferential to Eliza,” J’onn says. “He can sense it.”

Alex’s eyes narrow. There it is, evidence of her suspicions. “How do you know that? Are you reading my cat’s mind?”

“I may not work for the DEO anymore, but I still find it prudent to investigate and track potential threats.”

“Hey!”

“He’s a sweetheart,” Eliza says, joining Alex in coming to Grim’s defense. Years of raising Alex has taught Eliza to recognize when someone is reaching their limit. “It’s okay, sweetie. You can go.”

Grim scampers off for the moment, but he returns to her regularly throughout her visit for more head scratchings.

...

Trust has to be earned.

As a therapist, Kelly is very well aware of this. She has a lot of practice ensuring that her patients grow to trust that they will be listened to and not judged.

The problem is that she has done this by communicating in English, a language that Alex’s cat Grim does not speak, and Kelly, being allergic to cats as she is, does not have a lot of experience speaking cat.

“I’m not trying to hurt her,” she insists to Grim, who is scowling at her from Alex’s side.

Kelly is using her lunch break to check on Alex, who has had a long couple of days vigilante-ing. Sure enough, upon letting herself into the apartment, she was met with the sight of Alex asleep on the couch, still in her outfit with the tight suit and boots on.

Kelly had simply thought to wake Alex just long enough to get her to change and into bed, but Grim seems to be taking offense to the idea of disturbing Alex’s rest.

Ironically one of his growls nudges Alex into consciousness. She drowsily blinks a couple of times before recognizing her visitor.

“Kelly?”

“Hey,” Kelly says gently. “I thought you might want to change out of that outfit and get into bed. You know, be more comfortable?”

Alex looks down the length of her body. “Oh, yeah, that’s a good idea.” She instinctively reaches for Grim. “Come on, dude.”

When she slides into bed, Grim settles beside her again.

“Do you need anything?” Kelly asks before she leaves. “I can refill Grim’s bowl. I noticed it was empty.”

“Ye--” Alex yawns. “--ah, that’d be great. Thanks. You’re the best.”

After several repeat occurrences, Kelly can tell that Grim is growing to trust her more.

The ultimate show of acceptance comes when she’s staying at Alex’s because of a cold. She wakes up feeling better but with a weight on her chest. That weight is Grim, curled up and purring up a storm.

Kelly smiles and reaches out a hand to pet him. “Thanks, Grim.”

...

Grim backs away from Nia with a hiss.

“Maybe try again with a little less enthusiasm,” Kelly says. “Less is better with him.”

Alex keeps an eye on the three as she talks to Brainy. She has finally been coaxed into bringing Grim to game night to meet the rest of the Super Friends. She trusts Kelly to make sure Grim is all right, the only reason she isn’t glued to his side.

Brainy is a question machine. He asks if Alex met Streaky, the differences between Grim and Streaky, the differences in cat personalities, inherent cat behaviors, and the logistics of cat care. Alex is sure Brainy has additional questions, but Kara and J’onn are approaching from the kitchen area with the drinks, and Grim is starting to look overwhelmed by all the people.

Alex is about to rescue him when she catches the look on Lena’s face.

Lena is looking at Grim with an expression of horror in multiple senses of the word, maybe half foreboding horror like one watching a horror movie and half distasteful horror like someone being given a rancid fruit and being told it is an exquisite solid wine.

Alex finds that latter half offensive.

“You cannot use my cat as an excuse to restart Non Nocere,” Alex says, startling Lena.

“I wasn’t thinking about it,” Lena says, her voice entirely lacking in conviction. In fact, her face says that if she hadn’t been thinking about it before, she’s started thinking about it now.

William is running late, and by the time he arrives, Grim has disappeared into the shadows.

That’s not to say that William doesn’t meet him.

Sort of.

When William goes to the bathroom, the sound of the door closing is followed by a scream of surprise from William and a series of yowls from Grim.

Kara and Alex run for the bathroom and skid to a stop as William stumbles out of it.

“Kara, you were right about the cat.”

...

By the time Andrea comes to her first game night, Grim has gotten used to socializing and learned how to let people know he’s had enough in a non-threatening manner.

Kara helps Lena welcome her to the group and introduce her to the few people she has yet to meet. Alex and Grim give Andrea identical wary looks. It is one of the cutest things Kara’s ever seen. That doesn’t stop her from steering Andrea to the other side of the room.

“Uh, maybe you should sit over here.”

#supergirl #alex danvers #kara danvers #nia nal #eliza danvers #j'onn j'onzz #kelly olsen #et al.#moments in the life of superfam #i'm sorry i barely stopped being lazy enough to write this #i still have enough laziness to not tag all appropriate parties

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briinstardust · 4 years ago

Text

Part 2.

The monster, calls Evan, with the offer from the City. Buck goes over there, and the monster informs him the city wants to settle, he writes down a number on a piece of paper, and the monster, is confused by Evan’s shock.

“This is all they’re offering?” Evan says and the disappointment on his entire face is astonishing. He then launches into telling the monster, the only reason he did this was to get his job back. He wants to go back to work for the LAFD. He doesn’t want their money.

to which I think to myself, Evan why? why did you think you could take this on on your own, or that you even needed to take this on on your own? Evan why are you here?

“I did this so I could go back to doing what I love, to be back with my team.” is how Evan responds to the monster. This by itself...I just need to reference my previous thought of, Why the actual fuck, are we here right now? Evan has said he is alone in this fight. Has completely forgotten that he’s said this apparently. His team, he says. His team. His team who consists of Eddie Diaz, Henrietta Wilson, Howie Han, and Bobby Nash. Evan wants to be back with his team. okay. um. yeah. I’m going to reference my previous thought of Why the actual fuck did you think could take this on, on your own Evan? So your team, your family even. Why were you unable to turn to them when you were going through it, and when you were up in your feelings? These people are literally the only thing he is thinking about, and I’m confused. (I’m not completely confused, we’ll get it in a bit.)

So the monster takes takes what Evan says, and responds with the reason I refer to him as a monster, and the reason I referred to him as a predator in pt 1 “You really think they’re gonna welcome you back, kid?” and there’s a bit to unpack here.

This monster calls Evan kid. This is some straight disrespect. A man who’s just paid you probably a lot of money (bc lawyers are expensive), you just called kid.

So let me get this straight. The entire time you’re working on this case, Evan looks like a kid to you. So you saw a vulnerable kid, picked at him, targeted him, made him feel some feelings with your disgusting trash mouth. This is predatory behavior. This is why this man is a monster. The monster then follows up his previous statement with, “I raked your friends, over the coals, pretty hard.”

and wow.

Evan’s response to this is “I told you that stuff in confidence, for information, not to use it against them.” and Evan says something about Attorney Client Privileged, and the monster replies with “Yeah, that doesn’t work the way you think it does.” to which I must reference back to my question of Why the actual fuck did you think, you could take this on, on your own? These are absolutely huge life decisions, and you didn’t even think you could talk to your sister about this shit? Excuse me Evan Buckley, what the fuck?

The monster says they’ve won and Evan should be happy. Evan’s response to this is “This doesn’t feel like winning.” and the monster replies, “it’s probably as close as you’re ever gonna get” and I am going to say I don’t think I’ve ever seen Evan Buckley look more disappointed in himself in 3 entire seasons, than he looks in this scene right here.

So we’re about to get into the grocery store scene, but before I do that, I need a moment to stop, and wonder what this story line was actually for. I need a minute to stop and think about who this story line was for. I need a moment to wonder what this story line accomplishes. What is the actual purpose of this story line? Why is this story line here?

Now that I’ve taken that moment.

“I just think Bobby needs to let go of being pissed off at Buck.” Henrietta Wilson, a woman, who Evan Buckley just drug though an arbitration, took time out of her whole day, time she could have been spending with her wife, a woman who has always been supportive of Buck, says. the conversation continues with, “I know that, and so does Bobby,” Howie Han, a man Evan Buckley has known for years, a man who also dates Evan Buckley’s older sister, a man Evan has called a friend, says.

So Evan’s at the grocery store 8 miles from his apartment, bc that’s where I shop for all my groceries too... and Evan says he’s come to apologize, and Holy shit.

The minute Evan says he came to apologize. Eddie’s face. wow. oh boy, wow. “Oh you came to apologize rn? Let’s hear this and it better be good.” That what that face was. Eddie says “What did you think was going to happen?”

Well I’ll tell you what Evan thought was going to happen. Evan thought he would get his job back. I’m convinced he has no idea how lawyers work, but that’s what he thought would happen. (I need to reference back to Evan’s earlier quote of “I did this so I could go back to doing what I love, to be back with my team.”)

I need to say that I don’t think I’ve ever seen Eddied Diaz as angry as he is in this scene. Understandably so. You can tell how thrown off he is by seeing Buck here, and is so uncomfortable about this entire thing, but damn is he out here with his feelings in the open.

I am going to say Evan is up in his feelings right now. maybe he’s thrown off by how upset Eddie is with him right now, but Eddie says “You told your lawyer everything about us. personal things.”

And I am left wondering if Evan is naive, because he next says, “You’re supposed to be truthful with your lawyer.”

I just don’t know if he knows what to do with the emotions that Eddie is throwing at him right now. It’s all coming at him at once and maybe he just can’t process it quick enough? But honey that was just the wrong thing to say.

Before anybody has another thought, Evan spits out, “Why are you so pissed at me right now?” to which I have to say. Holy shit. Evan Buckley’s got balls out here. Evan’s getting angry now. In the grocery store.

And excuse me, my entire chill is gone.

Really?...Really? Holy shit! Seriously? Excuse me, Evan Buckley, are you fucking listening to the people you came to apologize to? Are you fucking listening? Because Eddie said exactly why he was pissed. I’m not sure how you missed it Evan. Eddie Diaz, just said, “You told your lawyer everything about us. personal things.”

This means there were personal conversations that happened, in private, between two people, and one of those people, thought a private conversation means it stays between the conversation participants. Not it stays between the conversation participants unless your lawyer asks.

Evan Buckley does not have the right to be angry at Eddie. Evan Buckley does not have the right to be angry at Hen. Evan Buckley does not have the right to be angry at Chimney. Evan Buckley does not have the right to be angry at Lena.

“Because, you’re exhausting,” is the answer Eddie Diaz gives Evan, for Evan’s absolutely out line question of “Why are you so pissed at me right now?”

Do we need more context here? I don’t. Eddie has been going through it. Eddie has clearly been doing some emotional heavy lifting here, and couldn’t talk to his best friend about it. goddamn.

“We all have our own problems, but you don’t see us whining about it. No, somehow we just manage to suck it up. Why can’t you?” Eddie says before anyone else can get a thought in.

The look on Evan’s face, he’s crushed right now. He is so upset, and I’m still processing this absolute look, bc he is angry and disappointed and sad, and other things are written on his face rn this lip tremble that is happening. Evan has 100 different emotions rushing through his mind and body as soon as these words leave Eddie’s mouth, and he can’t process this quickly enough.

Luckily for Evan, he does not have to process that final thought, as Howie Han, Evan’s friend for many years, who also dates Evan’s older sister, supplies Eddie with, “That’s kinda harsh. It’s not like the guy asked to be crushed by a ladder truck.”

This is correct. Evan did not ask to be crushed by a ladder truck.

“No, but he filed a stupid lawsuit, and now I can’t even talk to you because of it. You know how much Christopher misses you?”

so, this is that reference I referred to in part 1. This reads like anger from hurt feelings. Eddie’s been through this arbitration, he’s been going through his own shit, he’s going through it. in the arbitration we see Eddie come off as upset, but to me it did not look like anger. This looks like anger, as a result of, “can’t even talk to you because of it” his feelings are hurt that he can’t talk to his best friend, and it’s coming out as anger.

You know how much Christopher misses you? I’m referencing back to part one again, Eddie has to deal with the fall out of Evan’s impulsive, selfish behavior and one of the things is that Eddie’s son is now upset, because he can’t see Buck.

So Eddie’s personal feelings are hurt, that Buck didn’t even think he could talk to him about something like this, and he’s upset that his son is upset, because of Buck.

“How could you? You’re not around.”

His son’s feelings are hurt, and Buck did a thing while only thinking of himself. Buck came into their lives, and got them through some times, was with them through some shit, and Buck instead of talking to Eddie or anyone about what he was going through. This man internalized all of his fucking feelings “I’m in this alone” are you fucking really? This man internalized all of his fucking feelings, filed a lawsuit and ripped himself out of all of their lives in a single moment.

Christopher needs Buck, and Eddie can’t give his son what he needs, and is rightfully angry about it.

“I didn’t realize that.”

Honey I know. You weren’t really thinking about anybody but yourself. You were up in your feelings, and mad at Bobby, and ran to a lawyer, instead of your support group. Maddie, Your sister. Eddie, your best friend. Hen, someone you’ve known for years, and who’s supported you every time it counted, Chimney, who’ve you’ve known for years, who’s bedside you sat beside and cried when you thought he wasn’t gonna make it through. These are people that you refereed to as your family, not co-workers, not friends, but your family, and you thought that you couldn’t turn to any single one of them when you got some devastating news and when you were spiraling, and when you were going through it? You couldn’t turn to your own family?

“No, it prevents me from reaching out to you, I couldn’t even call you to bail me out of jail.”

Eddie was in jail, and was only thinking of one person he wanted. He could not have the person he wanted to be with him during this time. while he was in jail. bc he was legally not allowed to contact his best friend, Evan Buckley. Someone Eddie expects to understand him, but he’s unable to contact him.

”Look, man, Why can’t you see my side of this?”

“Because that’s all you see.”

Evan did you stop and think about how what’s happening to you, isn’t just happening to you? But to those around you? Did you stop and think how you being off work is effecting people who care about you? These people your family, are now barred from contacting you. your family, is now having to take time out of their personal lives, and days, to sit in arbitration's with you and your lawyer. your family are having their private conversations exposed to lawyers.

Eddie is absolutely not wrong here. And has every right in the world to be angry with this man right now. Evan has no ground to stand on, bc he caused these feelings that Eddie is having right now. And god forbid anyone other than Evan Buckley get to have an emotional response to a situation that is upsetting.

Evan has been having emotional responses to literally everything around him, everything that happens to him, everything that happens to others around him, this entire goddamn time. the fact that Evan Buckley can sit here, see an emotional response from his best friend, and not think that maybe he needs to talk to his best friend about it. but instead, this elicits an additional emotional response from Buck. this is more telling than anything Buck’s said thus far. Evan doesn’t understand how emotions work, and needs some perspective.

“Because that’s all you see.”

#9-1-1 rewatch #9-1-1 #9-1-1 episode discussions #9-1-1 character discussions #lawsuit stuff part 2 #most of the time these are rhetorical questions but I'm sure my inbox will have some messages after this #and fine if you need to talk this out with me or at me okay. come to my inbox.#I feel like I'm saying some controversial stuff out here #I also feel like I'm out here talking some mad trash about a beloved character so I feel like I might get hate for this idk #I have to ask bc I've fucked some my own ff this way before. but when it gets this out of hand. I start the fuck over #what actually is this story line? and why is it fucking here?#text post #long text post #very long text post #long post #very long post #Evan Buckley does not have the right to be angry at anyone but Bobby and himself #now I'm probably gonna get some hate for this but ok I guess I'll have to take it #bc these are my thoughts and feelings on the matter.#um yeah this was a little harsh or very harsh

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jungle321jungle · 5 years ago

Text

Forms of Family

No one alive knows how Dee manages to raise five kids primarily on his own. He's not sure himself, but having some of the best kids in the world makes it a whole lot easier.

~~~~~~

Part One

“Oh my.”

Dee looked up from his shopping list to see a woman standing before him. He forced a smile on his face as he nodded to woman, “How are you Brenda?” He nodded towards the baby in her carriage. “And how is Liz today?”

“She’s doing fine as ever,” Brenda smiled down at her child. “And I um...”

“Hmm?”

“I notice you have Virgil in his pajamas.”

Dee nodded once, “I do.”

“But it’s the middle of the day.”

“I’m aware.”

“But I read that babies should be-”

Dee gave her another forced smile, “Babies should be comfortable and happy. He’s old enough to have an opinion and he enjoys his pajamas. Some kids love a blanket or a bear, V here loves his pajama shirt. I have errands to run and four other kids to take care of. When you have more than your one, then maybe- but I highly doubt it- but maybe I’ll take your parenting advice.” He took in her shocked face as he began to walk away. “Now, which way was the cereal?”

There were many things which annoyed and angered Damien Elias Ekans. Many of those things surfaced as a result of acting as a single parent the majority of the time, due to his husband traveling for work. But the things which caused him the most strife were without a doubt, other parents.

Whether it be Brenda who after having her first baby suddenly was the expert on all things children and criticized him for putting the “wrong” shirt on Virgil. Or Lena who always sent son Tyler to school when he was sick allowing him to become walking Petri dish who somehow always managed to get Patton sick too. Or Margret, Kaleigh, and Marcus, who seemed to think their children were perfect gifts that and could never do anything as cruel as pick on Logan. And of course he couldn’t forget Carrie Ann who always packed nuts for her daughter to bring to school as if the twins weren’t allergic, and as if there wasn’t a rule against it.

He really didn’t like other parents.

~~~~

“How do you do it?”

Dee looked up from where he was finishing dinner to look at Miranda, “Do what?”

“Manage five kids on your own, I struggle with the one.”

Dee chuckled and continued what he was doing, “Quite frankly I don’t know how. Logan certainly keeps me on track though. I gave him the super special job of being ‘King of the Calendar’. Well until I changed it to ‘Curator of the Calendar’ because Roman wanted to be a king, and Logan wanted to use a word of the day.”

She gave a chuckle before her phone went off, “Ah and that’s my cue.”

“Work?” He guessed.

“Work,” she sighed.

“Must be terrible being such a good doctor.”

She rolled her eyes, “Do you mind if Ash stays here while I’m gone?”

“Course not. There’s a reason I have an extra bed in that room.”

“Thanks. I’ll buy you a drink when you finally get free time.”

“You’re up to eight drinks now.”

“What is there interest?”

“Course.

“Whatever, I’m gonna go tell her bye then head out.”

“Can you send them all down actually? By the time they get down here I’ll have dinner ready.”

“Will do.”

Ashley staying over wasn’t something unusual. The girl and her mother lived two houses down and with her mother’s sporadic hours and her father traveling she stayed over a lot. But what was unusual was dinner being interrupted by loud banging on his door.

Dee jolted in surprise as he rose from the table and made his way to the front door as the banging came again.

“I get it!” He shouted back before he opened it and frowned at Leah on the other side. “What?”

“Your sons!” She started loudly. “Why would you ever reach your boys that it’s okay to push a little girl?” She yelled.

Dee paused to take in her angered appearance and her daughter standing behind her. He forced his tone to be calm, “Someone pushed her?”

“Don’t sound stupid! One of your unruly twins! I want them both to apologize!”

“Roman! Remus!”

He could hear the scrambling as his children tried to pretend like they weren’t eavesdropping before the twins entered.

“Did one of you push Rebecca?”

“I did,” Remus answered crossing his arms. “And I’ll push her again.”

“Ha! He even admits it!” Leah proclaimed seemingly satisfied.

Dee gave a sigh as he bent down to look his son in the eye, “Why did you it?”

“What’s it matter?”

Dee meanwhile gave Remus a nod, “Well?”

“She made fun of Roman’s skirt!” Remus told him. “She said he’s a sissy ‘cause he wears it so I pushed her in the mud.”

“He is a sissy,” Rebecca commented unhelpfully.

“Am not!” Roman yelled back.

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Roman you’re not a sissy,” Dee interrupted standing. “Rebecca it’s not okay to call Roman one just because he has the skirt you wanted. And Remus it’s not okay to push. Everyone understand?”

“Yes Dad.”

“Yes Mr. Dee.”

“I didn’t ask you to discipline my child,” Leah told him icily.

Dee put a hand on the door ready to close it, “Well someone clearly needed to. Jealousy isn’t a reason to be rude. I would think you’d be best at teaching that.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused, we do have dinner to finish. Good night.”

He closed the door before she could respond.

“Are you mad?” Remus asked after.

Dee ruffled his son’s hair. “I’m only mad that dinner’s getting cold.”

~~~~

“Dad can I ask you something?”

Dee looked away from the TV to his son as Logan walked in. “That depends, is this a way to stall bedtime?”

Logan rolled his eyes as he came in the room and sat on the bed. “I’m not Roman or Remus.”

“Sorry, sorry. What’s up Logan?”

“Do you know when Dad’s coming home?”

Dee paused in thought, “I‘m not sure, he told me but I can’t remember... Why? Need him?”

“Yeah...”

“Is there something I can help with?”

Logan shook his head and looked away, “No.”

Dee held back a few questions as he took in his son’s disappointed face. So against his better judgement he reached for his phone, “Well I think he might be out of his meeting... Want to try to call?”

Logan took the phone eagerly, Dee let him be and waited as Logan put the phone to his ear.

“Hi Dad!” Logan said suddenly, gaining surprise from Dee. As much as he hoped the call was answered, he didn’t expect it to be. “I- no it’s Logan... I wanted to ask you something... I said I’m Logan and- ... Okay, sorry... Yeah, I can do that... okay, night... Love you...”

Dee gave a sigh, “Meeting still going on?”

Logan nodded and handed back the phone.

“Sorry Lo. Why don’t you try to call him again tomorrow after your field trip?”

“He’s always in a meeting,” Logan complained getting up and walking out into the hall. “Night.”

“Logan wait. I-”

“Virgil climbed out of his crib,” Logan interrupted walking out. “I’ll put him back.”

Dee gave a sigh, the conversation would have to wait, “Night Logan.”

~~~~

“Mr. Ekans, come in, come in.”

Dee entered the teacher’s classroom adjusting Virgil on his hip as he did. “Is everything alright with Patton?”

The teacher nodded, “Yes, I actually have the opposite issue with Patton than most kids.”

Dee frowned as he sat and set Virgil on his lap where he began to grab at things on the desk. “What’s the issue?”

“Most kids won’t share, Patton meanwhile shares so much so I worry that other kids are taking advantage of him.”

Dee paused, that’s not what he had been expecting to be called in about. “Patton shares his toys so much other kids just take it from him?”

“More or less? I’ve also noticed him being talked out of his snack.”

“So... what do you suggest I do? Tell my five year old not to be nice? Shouldn’t you be talking to parents of kids who are using him?”

“Oh I intend to,” she said quickly. “I just wanted you to know.”

“Well uh thank you, I guess.”

Dee was running through possible conversations in his head as he got Patton in his car seat.

“Is Ashley staying over?” Patton asked him.

Dee shook his head, “No, it’s just family tonight.”

“Why were you talking to Ms. Siena?”

Here it was the question he was dreading. How would he warn his son about people?

Thankfully it was delayed by the sound of Virgil babbling about something which drew Patton’s attention.

“But why, Daddy?”

It wasn’t a long enough delay.

“She was telling me that you’re a good sharer,” Dee answered. He glanced in the mirror to see his son smile, before he continued. “But I need you to know Patt, that you don’t have to give away all your snack. You need to eat too.”

“But I wasn’t hungry.”

“Well- uh when you are. Okay?”

“Okay.”

~~~~

“Thanks for helping me with the kitchen Logan,” Dee told his oldest putting the last of the dishes away. “Can you just wipe down the table for me?”

“Okay.”

“You okay? You were pretty quiet all dinner?”

“Fine.”

“Is this about your Dad not calling back?” Dee guessed after a short pause. When he saw Logan stiffen he gave a sigh, “Lo, I’m sorry. I’m sure he meant to. It’s just work is-”

“You don’t have to lie to me anymore.”

Dee froze and gave a hard swallow, “What do you mean?”

Logan kept his gaze on the table as he cleaned, “About him being at work.”

“I’m not lying,” Dee responded- his words more delayed than they should’ve been.

“I’m not mad you are,” Logan continued. “It must be easier than trying to explain that Dad is with someone else.”

“How...?”

“The field trip. When we were leaving the museum I saw him across the street. I was gonna call to him but then I noticed who he was with.”

Anger, sadness, frustration, and confusion filled their way within Dee’s chest.

“You said he was across the country. But he’s right in the city... At first I thought maybe you didn’t know. But then I remembered how you never try to call him unless one of us suggests it. So you know and you lied, because you’re not sure how to explain it to us.”

Dee grit his teeth as he tears pricked at his eyes- he wouldn’t let them fall- he wouldn't let his son see. “You’re too smart,” he said finally.

Logan gave a shrug, “Do you think he’ll finally talk to me if I tell him I know?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “When he left I assumed he’d come back for you guys- that was almost three weeks ago.”

Logan turned around and faced him with a look that screamed how mature he was. His arms slid around Dee’s waist and Dee instantly hugged him back.

“If it means anything, I always preferred you to him,” Logan commented.

Dee couldn’t help but laugh, he was going to reply when the distinct sound of Virgil’s cry sounded from upstairs. Instead he gave a sigh as he pulled away from the hug.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Logan promised.

Dee couldn’t help but smile as he ruffled Logan’s hair- knowing the boy didn’t like it. “You’re too good to me Lo.”

“I know.”

~~~~

Part One • Part Two (1/2) • Part Two (2/2) • Part Three

Also on ao3

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unnecessary-database · 6 years ago

Text

Supergirl receives multiple promposals every spring and you can’t tell me otherwise

J’onn hates these with a passion, ok. Too much attention. Too many cameras. Alex thinks they’re cute and funny but gets annoyed at the sheer volume after a month of the season. Winn compiles the best into a montage in his free time. James is oddly tight-lipped on the subject until after he comes out as Guardian and someone actually asks him too (it’s actually a gay boy who said he gave them the courage to be himself too, James is super touched, he takes the boy to dinner to chat but begs off prom with “a Guardian emergency”) and then James thinks it’s cute.

And Kara? Kara... well, she doesn’t know what to make of all of them. Not after a while. At first, they’re heart-breakingly precious.

Promposal No. 1 is a high school freshman boy. He’s Asian and his girlfriend is this popular cheerleader who he couldn’t believe went out with him in the first place. But they’re really cute together and it’s precious and she’s really into him. But her parents won’t let her go to prom due to the crime rate being up (by 2%, but they were honestly just looking for an excuse to not have her go to a high school prom filled with “hormonal boys”). The boy happened to be saved from a car crash by Supergirl three weeks before the prom and his eyes lit up and he asked her in a trembling voice if she’d escort them maybe to make her parents feel that she’d be safe so he could dance with this girl he’s so hopelessly in love with? It’s her first few months being Supergirl and she’s having a rough time believing in herself right then but with this boy believing she’ll keep them safe Kara just melts. She walks with him to pick up his girlfriend (her parents are floored) and the three of them walk to prom and Supergirl chills in the high school gym in between rescuing drunk drivers, etc, all night. Someone snaps a pic of her chatting with the pair of them and it goes viral. Naturally.

Promposal No. 2 is a year later, a short Latina girl who just came out at school and is having a rough time. Her parents kicked her out for being gay. Supergirl finds her on the roof of the school gym, leaning over the edge and crying. She talks the girl down. Talks to her for an hour about what’s going on. The girl slowly begins to smile again before she remembers prom is coming and if she goes alone she’ll be miserable and made fun of but she already bought tickets and maybe Supergirl would like to go with her? She immediately looks horrified she just asked a superhero to prom but Supergirl looks at her and assures her she’d love to go while Kara’s inner voice chants Maggie, Maggie, Maggie. A photo of them laughing with ice cream cones, the girl in a prom dress as they sit on the curb with Supergirl’s arm slung around her shoulders goes viral. Naturally. (Maggie calls her in tears the next day thanking her for doing that.)

Promposal No. 3 is a couple weeks later that year, and comes from the quarterback at Carter Grant’s prestigious school. He’s black and he’s the only black kid and he’s there on scholarship for his athletics and while he’s smart he’s constantly reminded that the only reason he’s there is cause he can throw. He’s had enough and when someone dares him, since you’re so popular, to ask Supergirl to prom, he does. Makes a YouTube video where he just tells his story and asks her humbly if she’d go with him and he’d buy her ice cream and he’d really love to hear about Krypton and what it’s like being a superhero and being the only one of her kind around here if she’d like to talk? Kara cries. He looks so handsome in his suit when she picks him up and They accidentally skip prom and the ice cream shop owner brings them free sundaes all night while she talks with him and they both cry.

Promposal No. 4 comes next year, from a semi-popular group of kids, very obviously all class clowns and very obviously nervous. They make a hilarious video filled with super puns and bad pick up lines that they don’t really expect her to take note of, but Kara laughed so hard milk came out her nose when Winn brought it up at game night and declared with a light in her eyes that she was going to that prom and Winn cheered and Alex sighed. She made an appearance without telling them she would and touched down in the middle of their group and their eyes went wide and then they asked her if she’d mind redoing that so they could film it. She obliged and they made a vlog that went insanely viral, episode one being Supergirl cracking a grin at a really bad super pun. She left a few minutes later still chuckling. But the word was out. Ask Supergirl to prom, and she just might show up.

More promposals flood in. First it’s genuine kids that Kara does her best to escort to and from prom, only dropping in for a couple minutes.

Then it’s more jokesters. Make Supergirl laugh, she’ll show up.

Then it becomes a badge of honor. Who can get Supergirl to prom? You’ll be the most popular kid in school if you can. She flies by all the extravagant shows that have no real feeling without a second glance.

Lena eventually teases her about it too—and Kara has to admit after her eighth year of doing this that each one seems less genuine than the last, and she’s getting about sixty a season now—and sooner or later Kara stops accepting. It’s an alien attack here and a visit with the president there—convenient and real excuses. But still. She could have made it work if she wanted to.

Less and less kids ask. Kara doesn’t show up to any more proms, but makes an effort to thank the more genuine proposals for their thoughtfulness. She forgets about it for several years, and soon Supergirl showing up to prom is nothing but the stuff of legend.

But one day it’s been a decade since she’s been to a prom. And she’s watching the news. And she sees a statistic that less and less kids are going. They cite reasons of cliques and expenses and triviality and unhappiness. And who happens to be there to share a personal anecdote of an amazing prom but her very first prom date. He’s married now, to that same girl. He tells how amazing it was that she went out of her way for him.

She remembers the smiles of the kids. She remembers talking all night with the quarterback she skipped prom with. The gay girl that was Maggie Jr. The boy who asked James, how James still stays in touch with him. And she gets off the couch.

Supergirl’s Prom Night Program is launched soon after.

For completely free, students can sign up to spend the evening with a mentor. Someone a few years older. A lot of DEO agents sign up. A lot of college students. A lot of teachers. They’re vetted by Supergirl herself (and Alex, who’s a much tougher crowd to please.) and they’ll pick up the kid for dinner and they’ll talk. They don’t have to go to prom. They don’t have to dress up. They’re all just there to have a good time.

A lot of lasting mentorships are formed, but plenty just have a good fun night and say goodbye. Social media explodes, naturally. And every year several stories are run on the resurgence of prom being a good time. Numbers aren’t necessarily up in sales. But Kara remembers how Lena told her she was alone on prom night. How Winn said the same thing. How Kara and Alex stayed home together and pretended not to think about it while they played board games because the music would be too loud for her.

And she gets a letter from a parent a week after the first prom of her program, thanking her. Her introverted, shy daughter with not a lot of friends and a mild case of sensory processing disorder had an amazing time with some woman named Alex from the program. They went to the dance for a few minutes but came home early and played board games all night while this Alex asked her questions like she really, really, cared, and this woman hadn’t heard her daughter laugh like that in forever. This Alex won’t say what she does, but her daughter has a new hero, and more importantly, a new friend. They’re going to get ice cream next week and the woman couldn’t be more grateful for the program.

There’s another letter from a parent, this one a single parent whose daughter builds robots in her free time. The daughter’s mother is in prison for attempted murder and she hasn’t been able to make friends at school since. But the most amazing man named Winn showed up at their door for prom and and complimented her latest robot’s engineering and gave a few tips and was the most gentlemanly and chivalrous person, showing their daughter the most amazing time. She said that Winn wowed her with his dorky dance moves and was on the floor with her all night making her smile and stood up for her when someone asked her something awful about her mom. Winn took her out for ice cream afterwards and told her the most hopeful and wonderful story about how his father was in prison for something similar and he found the most amazing family after a while, and she’s just gotta hang in there, okay? People still care.

Another letter comes in from two parents of a sheltered, shy, adopted kid. They could never get him out of his shell but he loved to build. Some wonderful woman named Lena took him in for the night and while they didn’t go to prom, she’s a scientist and took him to her lab and they played with science all night. He came back glowing because he made sixteen different explosions and she offered him an internship and the next week he had made three new friends with the other interns.

Kara has the letters framed. Supergirl may not show up to proms anymore, the invites swirling around in the old rabbit holes of the internet, but she still gets happy whenever she thinks of all the kids who won’t spend prom night alone and dejected.

#supergirl #kara danvers #supergirl headcanons #national city #prom night #i couldnt help it and i like to think she wouldnt mind

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weerd-overwatch-imagines-blog · 6 years ago

Note

Could I request Tracer, Widowmaker, and Sombra nervously trying to reveal their feelings to their S/O and how they go about doing it?

Thank you for being patient I am a very busy person and school is starting up again for me at the end of the month, that on top of my normal work and I will only be able to do complete a submission every once in a whileAlso please leave your criticisms in either the notes or in a DM I am always looking to improve

(digressing aside) Your request is granted HAIL 2 U

Tracer- Tracer was never good at telling people how she really feels, especially people she cares about so telling them was going to be quite difficult - Tracer had feelings for them for quite a while, it was just something about them but she didn’t know what it was- She decided it was time to reveal her feelings so that she could either face the music or the rejection without sacrificing her pride- Tracer took them into a room one day to settle this “Hi, okay I need to talk to you about something a bit.. sensitive” she had only started and the weight of anxiety was already crushing her- Why is this so hard? Tracer thought but she already knew why, it was because she didn’t want to be rejected “Okay this is kind of hard to say, especially to you but… ah hell” - This should be simple and easy but it is impossible just to say three words that mean a whole lot “Alright I just need you to know this, I kinda like you a bit.. no not a bit a lot” that was it she finally said it- but when they smiled Tracer’s worries began to fade “Thanks I like you too, very much. It all began a few months ago when we got assigned together and I just kind of gravitated towards you”- Tracer’s anxiety was dying out at this news “So what do I call you? Tracer?” but with her normal chuckle she replied with “No just call me Lena” when it comes to being happy, two heads are better than one

Widowmaker- Widowmaker was very well known for achieving what is thought to be impossible but they were just very difficult, now loving someone without even having emotions that is impossible but somehow she achieved that.- They weren’t someone in high command or wealth they were just a normal citizen but for some reason Widowmaker felt completely allured to them. She had tried to introduce herself on a few occasions but for some reason they never questioned it, not even her blue skin.- It was tough not feeling emotions but she supposed that if she had them then it wouldn’t be so bad, to that assumption she laid out a plan while walking down the street but in the middle of her planning the bumped into someone or to be more certain.. them- “Oh I’m so sorry miss” they said while extending a hand to help Widow up “ya know, we’ve met quite alot is a coincidence or should I assume that you’re doing it on purpose” which actually made her laugh a bit- “Hey do you want to go get a coffee” uh oh this wasn’t part of the plan but she was too deep in now “Okay then” Widow couldn’t say that things were exactly going to plan but the show must go on- Widow followed them to a nearby coffee shop, made their order and then sat down “Hey I should probably ask for your name, mine is (insertnamehere)” and so keeping along with them she said “My name is Amelie Guillard” and to hearing this they smiled “huh, I dont meet very many french people around here”- “Ya know, I made the joke earlier about meeting on purpose but that’s kind of what I’ve been doing” this was definitely not to plan, she was supposed to say this “Thats wierd because I’ve been doing the same”- This confused them quite alot “Why, there’s not exactly anything interesting about me, unlike you” they were probably referring to her blue skin or her golden eyes “And that’s what I like about you, its because you are generic but I was born into a wealthy family and so I was expected to marry some rich or incredibly smart guy but I didn’t want that” - “So you’re saying that you like me” they said with a smirk which then made Widow realise the corner she backed herself into “I.. ah I suppose I do.. like you�� she said with sweat dripping down her forehead and she felt like time stopped but it then resumed when they replied to her “Thats okay I actually like you too”- They had reached an impasse of neither knowing what to do after this until Widow spoke up “Hey.. Do you maybe want to go on a date some time” and yet again their cheerful personality reassured her “Yeah I’d like to” and so they exchanged phone numbers. It was slow and painful but they got there and Amelie actually expressed her feelings in a non-hostile way, it was progress- “Hey why’s your skin blue” “Science”

Sombra (btw this was kinda influenced by the anime ‘Erased’)- The two had been friends since childhood and were orphaned by the omnic crisis and so as they grew into adults they ended up moving into the same apartment not knowing the other had feelings for the other or that Sombra worked for Talon- The day went as it normally did until later on in the evening when Sombra was watching a romcom movie “Okay what the hell, these people are childhood friends and neither have the balls to tell each other that they love the other” but her room-mate just chuckled to themselves “its kinda like us… except with the love part” - Both of them had a sigh of relief at that because neither felt that they were ready to tell the other that they actually liked them “Do you ever think that there might have been someone that you liked but you never told them until it was too late” and this created a sharp pain in Sombra’s heart, what if she would be too late when she decided to tell them “I’m going to bed, see you tomorrow”- This was just an excuse for her to be alone with her thoughts and she couldn’t get it out of her mind that she would be too late to do it and it was eating her up inside so after a hour of coaxing herself she decided to tell her room-mate that she liked them- Sombra walked across the apartment living room to her room-mate’s room and upon walking in she saw them sitting in their bed on a laptop “Hi I need to talk to you about something, urgent” - Sombra sat down on the bed “I feel that its time that I had told you something quite important to me” it was time to tell, but with every word that came out of her mouth it became harder to speak- And so before she gave up Sombra decided to spit it out with no worry of rejection “Okay I like you very much” and upon saying that time for her divided in two and she felt like it was time, things are now going to become awkward and soon they’ll become farther apart and the final judgement was in their next words- “You know, I was actually gonna come into your room to tell you the same” a smile creeped onto Sombra’s face as she was speechless “I was actually on my laptop trying to come up with a line on how to tell you” - This was easily one of the best moments in her life, who else to be in a relationship with but her best friend and so she came closer to them and told them “thank you” before settling in a kiss

(to requester: I don’t know where your dad went, sorry)

#Overwatch #tracer #lena oxton #widowmaker #amelie lacroix #sombra

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royaltyjunk · 8 years ago

Text

Candlelight in the Shadows [T, Fire Emblem: New/Mystery of the Emblem]

Summary: Only when Minerva shuts the door does she realize that Michalis had been hiding from the slanting sunlight pouring through his window. Written for the FE: Community Design challenge on Tumblr.

@fe-communitydesign

Author’s Ideas: The theme was light/dark. I love me some FE1/11/3/12. Also, Minerva’s great, I would die for her. So have both. Bonus of a family/sibling theme. [Minerva was my first five-star in Heroes and I’m so glad she was she’s great and you bet your ass I was on Team Minerva] I may or may not have been so busy writing this I forgot to memorize my lines for an upcoming show… let’s pretend that never happened :^)

As always, readable on FanFiction.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Fire Emblem - obviously.

Minerva knocks gently on the wooden door in front of her, the sound reverberating through the empty hallways.

“Michalis?”

The clock in the hallway ticks away furiously as she waits for a response from her brother. His gruff voice doesn’t respond from the other side of the door, and she knocks again.

“Michalis? Are you in there?”

Still, silence. She’s knocking desperately now.

“Michalis!?”

There’s a soft noise from the other side of the door, and Minerva leans against the door, calling loudly, “Michalis!? What’s happening? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Go away.”

“Michalis…!”

When she hears her brother’s voice, she’s filled with relief, but it dies down as soon as he tells her to leave. With a huff of impatience and annoyance, she shoves open the door. “Michalis, you can’t just-”

“I said go away!” Michalis screams.

Minerva squints, spotting her brother squished up against the wall. “What are you-”

She pushes the door shut behind him and rushes to Michalis, but stops halfway there, catching a glance of her brother.

“Stay away, Minerva… go away… I don’t want to hurt. I don’t know what I could do like this, but… I don’t want you to suffer because of it.”

There was something majorly wrong with Michalis ever since the war ended - Minerva could tell, but she didn’t know it could amount to this - to this hideousness that’s crawling up along the left side of Michalis’s body.

His entire left side is a splotch of purple darkness, a mess of violet, lavender, magenta. His left hand is no different, and his entire hand has warped, now only a wrinkled palm with gnarly fingers and long, curly nails. His sclera is black, and he stares at her with a pleading red iris, a clear contrast to his remaining brown eye. His hair is dotted with black, red, and purple, like strands of the shadows themselves.

“It’s been seven years… I don’t understand. It was only supposed to last for that first war,” Michalis gasps, his form trembling violently.

“What was?” Minerva asks, her blood growing cold.

“Medeus’s darkness…” he whispers, “was his powers. He gave me some… he said he would take it away when I was defeated.”

“But… I defeated you,” Minerva says. “I defeated you… I know I did!”

“I know you did!” Michalis cries. “Something is wrong!”

She takes a step back shakily, a hand ghosting over her lips in shock.

“I have to tell Sister Lena… and Maria…” Minerva murmurs. “They’ll know what to do, they-”

“Just leave me alone,” he hisses, glaring at her from his position, pressed up against the wall. “Leave me alone!”

Only when Minerva shuts the door does she realize that Michalis had been hiding from the slanting sunlight pouring through his window.

~ / . / . / ~

The sunlight grows stronger the next day, when Michalis refuses to leave the shadows, and Maria spends the morning helping Sister Lena.

“Maria?” Minerva calls into the sanctuary tentatively.

“In here!” Her sister responds from the inside, and she follows Maria’s voice.

Minerva walks in on Lena, Julian and Maria, measuring a white dress.

“Who is that for?” Minerva asks, watching Maria collect a few pieces of ceremonial wear off the floor.

“We made it for you!” Maria says, rushing out the sanctuary and down the hallway, her ceremonial robes in her arms.

“But you didn’t have to-”

“Oh, come on, Minerva. Let us pamper you for a bit,” Julian grins, and Lena elbows him gently. With an “oof”, Julian leaves the room, a playful expression on his face. His wife sighs before holding out the white dress in front of Minerva.

“It looks wonderful. Why don’t you try it on?”

Minerva sighs in defeat before trudging off to her room, and Lena stifles a laugh behind her hand.

She emerges back into the sanctuary a few minutes later, a gentle expression on her face.

“It’s a very nice dress,” Minerva murmurs, spinning. “I couldn’t tie the strings on my back. There were too many.”

The red-haired bishop reaches forward, grasping at the strings and tightening them. “How is it?” Lena asks, gently tugging at the fabric strings along Minerva’s back.

“It’s fine. You can tie it.”

The strings are fastened along Minerva’s back, and she reaches for her red coat, slinging it on. Lena stands back, looking her over before smiling warmly.

“You look wonderful.”

“Sister Lena!”

Maria rushes up the sanctuary’s halls, her ceremonial bishop robes flowing behind her. There’s a veil in her arms and her bishop’s pendant is clutched in her hand.

Lena takes the veil from Maria and fastens it onto Maria’s head with a smile. Maria clips on her pendant and smiles back. Lena gives her a gentle kiss on the forehead. “There you go. Go on, now.”

“We’ll be back before you know it!” Maria grins and pushes open the doors. Lena watches Maria go before turning to Minerva, helping her button up her coat.

“It’s been awhile since we’ve had some orphans to care for. Keep an eye out for some, will you?” Lena asks, smoothing out Minerva’s coat when the last buttons click together.

“Alright,” Minerva gives Lena a slight curtsy, and the bishop smiles before leaning in.

“Keep an eye on Maria, too. I don’t know if it’s best for her to be outside after yesterday’s occurrences.”

Minerva nods, a wave of fear crashing over her. Shaking off the strong emotions, she follows Maria out of the church and down the streets that are crowded with people and vendors.

“The princesses of Macedon!”

“Over here, lovelies! I’ve got just the thing for you both!”

They ignore the calls of alluring shopkeepers and curious shoppers, looking upon the bustling city.

“Here you are!”

A light voice drifts from a certain stall along the edges of the city, and the sisters glance over. There, behind the makeshift open tavern, is a young brown-haired girl, her hair tied into a high ponytail with a pink hairband, a similar shade to the pink dress she wore. She hands off a red book to a customer, and looks up. Surprise lights in her eyes, but melts to happiness, and she waves, a great laugh bubbling from her lips.

“Princess Minerva! Princess Maria! Hello there!”

“Lady Linde? Why are you here?” Maria asks.

“Don’t call me ‘Lady Linde’! It makes you sound so formal, Maria. We’re friends!”

“Yes… yes, you’re right, Linde,” Maria beams. “But why are you here?”

“Selling tomes. Merric had way too many in his dusty academy in Altea, and I needed to raise some money to help rebuild Pales. It all worked out with this festival coming up, anyways.”

“Why come here? Surely there are better places to sell, where there are more purchasers?” Minerva asks.

“Oh, of course. I’m just covering as much ground and meeting as many old allies as I can in these few festival days.”

“Where have you been so far?” Behind her, Maria scuffles away, flipping through the pages of the tomes Linde has on sale.

“Altea, to visit Merric, Marth, and Caeda… Archanea, if you can still it that, to visit Jeorge, Midia, and Astram… I bumped into Sheena in Pales, with that mercenary friend of hers. Samson, I think? They were selling flowers and baskets, so if you need some, head on down there!” Linde winks, holding up a finger.

“It sounds nice. We’ll probably visit soon. Maria-” Minerva turns over her shoulder to speak to her sister, only to realize that the tavern is empty aside from her and Linde.

“Huh? Where’d Maria go?” Linde asks, tilting her head.

A pit of despair opens in Minerva’s stomach, and she excuses herself quickly, bursting from the small store Linde has set up and glancing around the stands. There’s not a sign of her sister, and Minerva rushes down the streets.

Panicked, Minerva opens the door to a nearby makeshift shop, and the bells on the door chime as she looks inside. In the corner of the store is a head of red, veiled by white. She rushes to the redhead, ignoring the smell of medicine and herbs, something that would have normally disturbed her greatly.

“Maria!”

Her sister slams a box in her hands shut and whips around. She stands abruptly, a guilty look on her face. “Minerva?”

“Why did you run off like that?” She notices Maria’s expression and reaches out, readjusting the veil around Maria’s head. “Is something wrong? What were you looking at?”

“…Herbs. Healing herbs,” Maria murmurs, clasping her fingers around her bishop’s pendant. “I wanted to see if there was anything that could help him.”

“Oh, Maria…” Minerva hugs her sister tight, and Maria tenses up before relaxing, squeezing Minerva back.

“He’ll be fine,” the older sibling whispers. “He’ll be fine, he’ll be okay.”

“I wish he would be,” Maria murmurs, and Minerva starts, pulling away.

“What do you mean?” She demands.

“Not knowing his symptoms doesn’t help,” Maria rambles on. “What caused that darkness? Why on him? I don’t know how to cure shadows. Even if staves use magical power, they can’t dispel the darkness. And herbs don’t help either. Michalis isn’t hurt physically, internally, or mentally - at least, it doesn’t seem like it.”

“Maria-”

“And I know, there’s no way to cure darkness. Darkness can only be slain by light, and to use light magic against Michalis wouldn’t just purify him, it’d remove him from the world along with the darkness in him, and I don’t want that to happen, I don’t!” Maria’s voice pitches to a breathy and high whisper, her words barely comprehensible with the multiple wavering in her voice.

“Maria… you need to rest. We’ll talk about this later. Let’s go back to the church for now,” Minerva murmurs. Thankfully, Maria just nods mutely, biting her lip. Her eyes are moist, but there are no tears - at least, not yet.

The bell above their heads chime as they open the door and walk down the cobblestone street that leads to the entrance of the wooden church. Lena is out front, washing a set of white dresses that belong to Maria. She glances up, surprise reflected on her face when she sees the Macedonian siblings.

“What are you two doing here?” She asks, standing and smoothing out her skirts. “I thought you were going to stay in the town square until night. There are many more shops this year than last year, aren’t there?”

“Maria needed a breather. Most of them were selling the same thing,” Minerva responded, lifting her white skirt to avoid trailing it in the mud around the stone path.

“What sorts of things?”

“Clothing, herbs and medicines, crops, weaponry, products like that. Although, we did run into Lady Linde. She was selling tomes on behalf of the people in Pales.”

“Linde? That’s interesting. I’ll have to stop by and give her my greetings.”

“I do believe Naverre was there,” Maria pipes up. “He was with another mercenary who looked much like him.”

“Samuel and Naverre?” Minerva asks, frowning. “They were here?”

Maria ponders on the thought, and responds, “I think they just came to look at the swords, though. They didn’t hear me calling out to them.”

Lena smiles, a nostalgic look in her eyes. “I’ll leave once I finish washing these, then. Can you two make sure you take them in at sundown if I’m not back by then?”

“Of course, Sister Lena,” Minerva nods before pushing open the large church doors, greeted by multi-colored light that pours in from the stained glass windows of the church sanctuary..

Julian is sitting in the back pews of the sanctuary, and looks behind him when he hears the door crack open. He smiles, standing and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Back already?”

“Maria needed a breather,” Minerva repeats, shedding her red coat and hanging it up on the coat hanger beside the doors. The strong smell of herbs and flowers tells her that incense was recently burned. “Lena’s going out soon. You should join her.”

“Maybe I will,” Julian responds, brushing past them as he exits, whistling a soft tune.

The sisters share a knowing glance before exiting the sanctuary through a side door that leads into a carpeted hallway. The hallway is lit with small candles and sunlight streaming through the small windows. Minerva wrenches her gaze from the door on the far side of the hallway, a room too recently flooded with bitter darkness.

Maria opens the door to her room, and Minerva makes to leave, but her sister catches her hand. Minerva turns and Maria lets go of her hand.

“I’m tired of this, Minerva,” her sister murmurs, leaning against the doorframe. “I’m tired of these wars. Even if it’s over, the consequences still affect us and I dislike it so much.”

“I know, Maria,” Minerva coaxes. “I dislike it too. But we have to endure it.”

“Why us?” Maria cries loudly. “We fought hard and experienced heartbreak! We were just like the soldiers that fought alongside us! And yet… we have the worst consequence upon us! That we will lose-”

“Hush!” Minerva yells over her sister, and Maria stares at her, wide-eyed and mouth shut. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. It’s just… Michalis…”

“I know, Minerva. I’m sorry for raising my voice too.”

Maria glances up at her sister anxiously, and Minerva smiles.

“Make sure you get some rest, Maria,” Minerva commands, stroking her hair.

“I want to see him,” Maria says. “Can I go with you tonight?”

“Maria…” One look at her sister tells Minerva that Maria is not going to be swayed. “Alright. I suppose. I’ll stop by your room when I go to visit him, at moonrise. Get some sleep by then, okay?”

Maria gives her a soft smile, but the light in her younger sister has disappeared somehow, and before Minerva can question her, the princess-turned-bishop closes the door on her.

~ / . / . ~

Her sister’s white dress glows under the candlelight, and Minerva huddles into her red coat self-consciously.

“Do you really want to come along?” Minerva whispers hushedly. Maria nods firmly, but doesn’t say anything. Minerva sighs. “Listen, Maria-”

“What are you girls doing up so late?” Julian’s voice rings from above them, and the sisters glance up to see the former thief leaning over the wooden railing of the staircase. “It’s almost night, and you know how active the little critters are around here.”

“We were just going to see Michalis,” Minerva calls back. “We’ll get to bed as soon as we finish.”

“Alright. Just don’t make Lena fret again, you hear?”

“Yes, Julian. Good night,” Minerva says, and Maria reiterates her sister’s words before hurrying down the hallway.

The candle in Maria’s hand glows, leading them past the corridors and the door to the sanctuary, where the smell of incense floats from. They stop at a door at the far end of the hallway, Michalis’s room, where Minerva takes a deep breath.

“Listen, Maria… I don’t know if it’s good for you to be here. Michalis didn’t want to see anyone last time I came by, but… if anyone, you deserve to see him. Don’t step out of line, alright?”

Maria squeezes Minerva’s hand, and she smiles before opening the door.

Michalis hisses as soon as he sees the door open, and presses himself closer to the smooth stone wall. His eyes soften for a moment when he realizes who had stepped into his room before hardening again, an angry look in his remaining brown eye.

“Michalis?” Minerva asks cautiously. Maria blows out the candle in the holder, and sets it down on the small table in the middle of the room before following Minerva closely, an unidentifiable look in her eyes.

“Why are you two here?” Michalis narrows his eyes, pulling his black cloak around himself and blending into the shadows, his head, half full of red hair and one brown eye the only things that stand out in the blackness. “I told you to stay away.”

“I-”

Minerva’s cut off by Maria, who lets out a noise, akin to the sound of choking. Minerva turns to her sister just before Maria collapses to her knees in front of Michalis. Minerva catches a glimpse of Maria’s face, and knows the look on her sister’s face - her eyes rimmed red and familiar hiccuping movement in her throat tells Minerva that she’s been crying, or is about to start.

“Maria!?” Michalis cries out, his eyes filled with worry and voice pitched with emotion. Yet, he only reaches out his unaffected hand from the shadows, but Maria takes his outstretched fingers, holding his hand tight as she cries into her other one.

“Maria…” Minerva sits beside her sister, tucking Maria’s stray hairs behind her ear.

Her breath is inconsistent from her, trying to hold back her tears.

“Maria, it’s okay. You can cry.”

“But-”

“We’re your siblings,” Minerva and Michalis both respond immediately.

Maria glances at them both, a lost look in her eyes before tears spring up, tears that fall too fast for her to stop, and soon she’s crying and crying, like she’s never cried before.

Stroking her sister’s hair, Minerva embraces her as Maria cries. Michalis squeezes her hand, and Maria gives him a gentle smile through the tears welling up in her eyes.

“What happened?” Michalis coaxes his sister, in a hushed voice.

Maria glances at Minerva pleadingly, and she nods to Maria, tightening their embrace for a second. Her younger sister lets out a gentle breath, nodding to Minerva.

The former Dragon Lord looks Michalis in the eyes, swallowing down the lump of fear and hesitation in her throat. Maria had entrusted her with this task.

“Maria… she was looking for ways to cure you.”

“You didn’t-”

“She couldn’t find one,” she says bluntly, and turns her head away, not bothering to hide the pained expression she knows is being displayed on her face.

“I can’t cure you. I can’t cure you,” the youngest of the siblings repeats softly to herself like a mantra, and then silences herself with another half-stifled sob. Michalis scoots forward a little bit.

“It’s just like that time,” Minerva murmurs under her breath.

“What time?” Michalis asks, looking at his sister.

“She’d stay up all night, just to make sure you were okay,” Minerva ignores his question, “and she’d work herself sick. It came to the point where I had to stay in her room to make sure she didn’t sneak off during the night to your room. She’d hug you and pray with tears streaming down her face. I remember it so vividly, like it was yesterday.”

“Maria… I know you saved me, but… you tried that hard? You were just…” he trails off, turning his gaze to the black cloak draped around him.

“A child…” Maria murmurs, squeezing Michalis’s hand. “Still… they wouldn’t let anyone treat you… they wanted to leave you for dead. Then, and even now… I don’t understand why. But…! I wanted to save you, I really did! That’s why I tried so hard! Minerva never said it, but I knew it was all up to me to save you. So I tried! I really did! I wanted you to get better, just like now! But now… I don’t know…” Maria breaks off with a sob.

“Maria…” He clenches his shadowed hand, and then Michalis looks up at Maria, a determined look in his eyes.

“I’ll go tomorrow. I’ll go with you two, and we can look together. Just us, as siblings. Like before that war…”

“Brother…! Thank you!” Maria wipes her tears from her eyes, and pulls Michalis to his feet, taking his other hand. The moonlight pours through the window at the moment, and in a grand moment of light and dark, Michalis, with a body half afflicted with shadows, is standing under white brightness, and Maria is covered in shadows.

Yet, Michalis doesn’t flinch, and neither does Maria. They embrace, and Minerva slips from the room then, feeling the silence around her drag on as she exits the room.

When she leaves, she takes the candle with her. As she relights the candlestick, the red of her cloak and hair is reflected against the bright white moonlight and the dark patchy shadows of the church walls, like Maria and Michalis themselves.

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jedifighterpilot2727 · 8 years ago

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I'm not sure if you write smut, but would you consider continuing the Kara/Lena cooking lesson? I'd love to see possessive Kara in bed ;)

I got a LOT of prompts for this so I figured I’d try my hand at writing smut again. I tweaked it a little but I figured it would still serve its purpose! And it was supposed to be just smut but then feelings got involved, so … *shrugs*

This Chapter is rated M for sMut

You’re Wearing What?! - Eyes Like Kryptonite Ch. 25

Read it on AO3 - http://archiveofourown.org/works/9100903/chapters/21606734

The whole thing is completely unintentional.

Well, mostly unintentional.

She doesn’t expect Kara to react quite like … this.

She knew based on the books that Alex had given her, and from her time spent pouring over the massive amounts of information from the Alura AI that House crests were pretty important. According to the literature, wearing another house’s crest was kind of like wearing someone else’s letterman jacket.

Only something must have gotten lost in translation, because she did not anticipate Kara reacting like this.

Not that she’s opposed.

Not at all.

Quite the opposite actually.

She’s pretty sure she’s never been this turned on in her life.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It all starts when she’s browsing online, doing a little late night shopping while she waits on Kara to get back from saving the world. She was aware that there was Supergirl … paraphernalia out there. She had offered to put a cease and desist on the companies that were profiting from the House of El crest, but Kara had resisted.

“The people need someone to look up too, and that symbol is a symbol of hope. They should be able to look at it and wear it. Stronger together.”

There’s something just so … Kara about it all. About adopting all of these people into her ‘family’ - a family that no doubt Kara thought died on Krypton.

So Lena acquiesces, instead talking Kara into at least demanding that a portion of the proceeds go to charity. Kara’s eyes light up at the thought, and she spends hours pouring over charity reports until she finds one that she deems worthy -one that is no doubt flooded with donations as it unwittingly becomes the 'Supergirl charity’ and earns National City’s favorite alien as the face of their donation page.

Still, other than the legal aspect, she’s never really looked into Supergirl swag. There’s a lot of it out there, decals to t-shirts, to coffee mugs to miniature Supergirl costumes so that every little girl can be there favorite superhero for Halloween.

She’s 12 pages deep in the Supergirl section when she finds them, a little blue swath of cloth with the red and gold ’S’ on the back.

Supergirl underwear.

She barks a laugh, because honestly, Kara should see these.

And then she quits laughing because she realizes Kara should see these. On Lena.

It’ll be a cute little joke, and maybe Kara will be a little extra attentive because she’ll find it adorable that Lena has her House Crest plastered on her ass. It’ll be funny, and maybe a little hot; and she laughs to herself as she adds them to her cart and moves to the checkout - purchasing it under a fake name and address that she keeps handy for her more … sensitive purchases.

If the world ever finds out that Lena Luthor has a Supergirl kink, things could get a little unpleasant for everyone, not to mention the risk it would pose to Kara’s secret identity.

Five to six business days later, she goes down to the Post Office to check her PO box, grinning when she sees the nondescript little package.

She forces herself to wait until she gets home to open it, but as soon as her apartment door is closed, she rips into the package. She laughs a little maniacally as she pulls the panties out and runs her finger over the glittery ’S’. This will do just fine.

It’s incredibly difficult, not to just call Kara over right then and there, to be laid out on the bed with a 'look what I got’ smile.

But Lena is nothing if not a woman of patience and she most certainly has a flair for the dramatic, so she puts it off until that night, when Kara will be over for movie night.

They used to split it, sometimes at Kara’s apartment, and sometimes at hers; but after an unfortunate little incident that involved the Super friends walking in on them making out on Kara’s couch, they’ve taken to spending more night’s at Lena’s. It’s entirely too early in the relationship for them to moving in together, but Lena can’t help but feel a little flutter in her heart when she thinks about the second drawer in her armoire, specially reserved for Kara.

Her eyes trace back over the underwear as she remembers the wedding robes that Alura had shown her from their archives. She thinks about how the upper House symbol is etched into the material right over the heart, and her breath catches in her throat. This is far different, and they aren’t ready for marriage, not yet; but she still shivers just a little - maybe someday. But for today, the little bikini bottom will have to do, and she laughs giddily when she thinks about how amused Kara will find it all.

Kara is not amused.

She waits for the perfect timing; dinner is over and some cheesy romantic comedy that Kara picked is flashing across the television. It’s warm under the blankets, with Kara’s Kryptonian body heat, and she figures that’s as good of an excuse as any.

She rises gently from the couch and hears Kara pause the movie. Once she’s sure that her girlfriend’s eyes are firmly planted on her backside (like they so often are)- she slides her sweatpants down her legs, lingering with her ass in the air as she works the material down her legs.

“Lena.”

Kara’s voice is stiff.

“Yes?” She attempts to sound flirty, even though her heart is slowly sinking.

“What are you wearing?”

“Oh, these?” She glances over her shoulder at her girlfriend to see her jawline clenched, body practically vibrating with tension as her eyes linger on Lena’s ass.

The flirtation dies in her throat.

“Just… something I found online.”

Kara’s eyes are darker than Lena has ever seen them, and dread settles in her stomach as Kara’s nostrils flare.

“That’s the House of El crest.”

“I’m aware.”

“You’re wearing the House of El crest.”

Lena turns fully to face Kara and the reporter’s eyes snap up to lock on to hers.

She can’t help but feel a little miffed. This is not going the way she planned.

“Lot’s of people wear your crest all the time and you don’t have a problem with it.”

“Other people aren’t you.”

There it is, Lena thinks. Her last name coming back to haunt her. She had hope they were past that, but of course Kara has a problem with a Luthor wearing her crest - that a Luthor would ever consider the possibility of joining the House of El-

“Other people are just random people, but you -you’re - you’re -”

“A Luthor.” It’s barely a whisper, and tears spring to her eyes as she says it.

Kara’s brow furrows in confusion.

“You’re Lena! And other people - but you, you have the potential; and - and I’ve thought, but I’ve never seen - oh, Rao!” A fluttering hand passes over her girlfriend’s face, and she feels a surge of pity. Whatever is going on in Kara’s head certainly has her flustered.

“Talk it out.” She whispers gently, settling a hand on the superhero’s back.

Kara’s fingers flutter to adjust glasses that aren’t there before she takes a shuddering breath.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought, no dreamed, about you wearing my crest?”

She feels the block of ice that’s settled in her stomach slowly begin to melt and she shakes her head.

“Way too often. And I know it’s wrong because you probably don’t understand what it means and it’s way too early to even think-”

“I know what it means.” She whispers softly. “I know that if we were to ever get married I would wear the House of El crest over my heart. That I would become a member of the noble House of El.”

She hears Kara whine in the back of her throat, and blue eyes trace over her face, lingering on her lips.

“I’ve never felt like this before.”

“Like what?” All of her trepidation from earlier is gone, replaced with a fluttering sort of want.

“Like I want to claim you.” Kara looks almost embarrassed by the words, even as they send a heat between Lena’s thighs.

“And I know that I shouldn’t, because you can’t claim people but I just-” Her words peter out into a groan and Lena laughs as realization dawns.

“You’re confused because you want me to be yours and you feel guilty?”

Kara nods slowly, looking ever so remorseful.

Lena hums, leaning forward to brush her lips against the Kryptonian’s ear.

“I’m yours, sweetheart.” Kara whines again. “Claim me all you want.”

“Lena…”

“I’m yours.” She repeats, and she feels Kara shudder. “Show me how that makes you feel.”

Before she can blink, she’s on her back, Kara’s weight settled between her legs and Kara’s lips on hers. The tongue that’s on hers is demanding and searching, and normally Kara’s kisses are soft and gentle and they make Lena melt; but today they take and take and Lena feels a fire ignite in her belly.

“Is this okay?” Kara whispers breathlessly.

“Yes.”

“Tell me if it’s not?”

“Yes, I’ll stop you if it’s too much - just let go.”

She tries to tug Kara back down, but her girlfriend has other plans, and she’s soon being tugged up from the couch.

“Bedroom. Now.”

She shivers at the authority in Kara’s voice, and she practically runs down the hall to the bedroom. She’s barely inside before Kara slams her against the now closed door, hand cradling her head protectively.

“Can I mark you?”

“Please.” Lena chokes out, and Kara’s lips latch on to her neck. Light kisses at first and then there’s a sharp bite and her legs melt - Kara’s weight against her the only thing holding her up.

She buries her fingers in blonde locks, tugging as hard as she can. She knows it doesn’t hurt Kara, knows that the superhero can barely feel it; but she needs something to ground herself.

The lips move lower, over her collar bone, and for a moment her shirt is in the way but Kara rips it easily; the shreds of material scattering around their feet. Not so gentle hands come up to her breasts, tugging and pulling, and she thinks for a moment that she may orgasm just from foreplay alone but then Kara is lifting her, strong hands spreading her thighs and wrapping her legs around a slender waist.

“Kara, please.”

Teeth sink into the tender skin of her chest and she cries out, hips bucking and then slamming back into the wall as Kara pushes against her tighter.

The hands under thighs have migrated, and she can feel fingers dancing at the edge of her underwear. She’s afraid for a moment that Kara might rip them (they’ve quickly become her favorite pair), but then the fingers are brushing the underwear aside and slipping into her heat without warning.

“Ka-Kara.” Her chest is heaving, and she can’t suck in enough oxygen, can’t pull Kara close enough.

The fingers inside of her twist, and somehow Kara’s thumb brushes her clit. She cries out, can’t stop herself if she wanted to; and she pushes up on Kara’s shoulders, trying desperately to ride the fingers inside of her.

Her girlfriend must sense her desperation, because within moments she’s on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as Kara shimmies the panties from her hips.

“Save these.” is the demand, and then they’re tossed across the room as Kara lowers herself to trail kisses along Lena’s stomach and hips.

“You’re so beautiful.” She whispers reverently and Lena shivers as the breath dances across her skin.

“I’m yours.”

Kara whines again, a primal sort of sound that makes Lena even wetter than she already is.

Insistent lips settle on her clit and fingers seem to fill every inch as they curl inside of her. Kara is moving almost too fast for her to keep up, but she doesn’t care, her entire being turned into a needy mess.

She whimpers as Kara hits just the right spot. The hand that doesn’t have fingers buried inside of her makes it’s way up her torso, pausing at each breast to trace the nipple and give it a sharp tug. It inches higher, past her collar bone until it’s curled around the base of her neck, fingers dancing along her pulse point. There’s no real pressure behind it, just enough to let her know it’s there.

She can feel herself teetering, just on the edge of release.

“Don’t stop.” She chokes out desperately and Kara’s fingers clench ever so slightly- the ones inside of her and the ones around her neck- and it reminds her of white water rafting, the way her body cascades into an orgasm; hips jerking of their own accord. She eventually comes back to herself, Kara’s fingers slowing inside of her until they slip out, and she groans at the loss of contact. Kara braces herself on the bed and hovers over her, soft lips working their way up her body until their lips meet once again in a searing kiss and she can taste herself on Kara’s tongue.

“Was that okay?”

She wants to scoff, wants to demand how that could have possibly been anything other than okay; but instead she flips them, silencing Kara’s insecurities with her lips before pulling back to look into bright blue eyes.

“My turn.”

Suggestions? Comments? I’m always super (ha!) insecure about my smut writing capabilities, so let me know!

#supercorp #supergirl #fanfiction #kara danvers #lena luthor #tumblr prompt

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